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CHAPTER VII
THE BUCKET OF YEAST

"Say," whispered Caleb, as soon as they were out of hearing of the store, "that Ledyard Barrow is a Tory."

"That is just what I have been thinking myself," replied Enoch, who was so surprised that he hardly knew what he said. "We have got to be awful careful about this thing or it will get out on us in spite of all we can do. I did not say anything wrong while I was talking to him, did I?"

"No, indeed, you did not. The first thing you know we will have Tories all around us, and the next thing will be for that vessel to trip her anchor and go farther off down the bay. Say, Enoch, I shall have to borrow a little of that powder of you until I can have – "

"You may have it," interrupted Enoch. "There is more here than I want. But to think that we have unearthed another Tory. That is what gets to me."

"It looks to me as though every neighbor was going to have to fight the man who lives next to him," said Caleb, taking off his hat and scratching his head furiously.

"Well, I would rather they would make themselves known so that we may know just what we have to expect. I wish Zeke would happen along here just now. I would like to know what he thinks about it."

But Zeke had business to attend to where he was, and the boys did not get a chance to speak to him that night. When they came to Caleb's house, Enoch turned in with him to give him what he thought he should want of the powder, and found Caleb's mother engaged in knitting with her Bible open on her knee before her. The boys looked for success in the size of their crowd to enable them to overcome the schooner's crew, while Mrs. Young, like Enoch's mother, looked for it to a source from which it was sure to come if she asked for it in the right spirit. Enoch hastily took off his hat when he entered the house. The presence of that open Book upon her lap called for all the reverence he was capable of.

"Well, Enoch, are you one of the few who have agreed to take the Margaretta?" said Mrs. Young, greeting him with a smile. "I hope you have got your gun cleaned up, for Caleb thinks there is bound to be a fight."

"I don't think so mother," answered Caleb. "I know so. Machias is all right now, that is, there is not any mourning here, but you will see some when we get that schooner."

"When it does come we shall have the satisfying knowledge that we tried to do our duty," said Enoch.

"You forget that there is a penalty for piracy," said Mrs. Young.

"No, I don't," said Enoch, promptly. "They will have to capture every provincial in town before they can begin hanging us. When they try that, you will see a fuss here in Machias."

"That is right, my boy," said the mother, reaching up with the endeavor to pat Enoch on the head. "If you undertake this thing, I hope you will come out safely."

Caleb had by this time produced his powder-horn, and Enoch proceeded to give him half the quantity he had purchased. When he had filled it half full Caleb put in the stopper and slapped the horn into his open palm, giving Enoch a mysterious wink as he did so. Enoch had no trouble at all in interpreting that wink. By it Caleb said that when he was face to face with the schooner's crew he would get at least one shot, if he did not get any more; and Enoch knew what he meant by that. He was almost sure of the redcoat he pulled on, and there would be one less for them to encounter when the order was given to board her and clear her deck.

"But, Caleb, we don't know who our captain is," said Enoch, giving utterance to the thought that had been uppermost in his mind ever since the capture of the schooner was proposed.

"I don't care for that," said Caleb. "When we get to work everybody will be captain. We all want the schooner, and the one that does the most is the best man."

Enoch was obliged to be satisfied with this, and as there was nothing further to detain him he made his best bow and went out. The boys now had nothing to do but various little jobs around the house until the sun rose the next morning. Enoch did carpenter work, fitting some chinking into the walls where the winter's cold came in during severe weather, and Caleb cut some wood and brought it into the house for fear that to-morrow night he might not be there to attend to it.

"There is nobody except me that knows we are going to have a fight before we can claim that schooner," said he, as he paused with his ax raised in the air and glanced toward the place where the Margaretta was lying at her anchorage. "Because we have always been friendly with those boys it is no reason why they will not fight us when they see us coming. I know what I should do if I was there."

With this thought Caleb drove the ax into the log with all his force as if he felt that there was some enemy in there and he wanted to get rid of him, and then his mother called him to supper. He looked up and saw that it was getting dark. He put his ax away in the woodshed and went into the house, and when he was through with his meal his mother said to him —

"Caleb, I wish you would take that little tin bucket from the third nail behind the door in the buttery and go over to Mrs. Crosby's, and ask her if she can spare me some yeast for to-night. I want to bake some bread early on Monday morning, and I should thank her for a little."

Caleb at once put on his hat, took the bucket from the third nail in the pantry, bid his mother good-by, and went out. What a difference there was between him and the boys who flourish in our time! Boys in our day would say "yes, ma'am," and loaf around and wait until they got a good ready to start; but to Caleb, his mother's command had to be obeyed right away. He struck up a whistle when he went out, one of those old-fashioned songs that boys do not know in our day, telling himself in the meantime that it was about as dark as he ever saw it. But Caleb knew the way, and he went on his road without a misstep. He arrived at Mrs. Crosby's house, made known his errand and came away again, not forgetting to exchange ideas with his friend Enoch about the cheer that was to sound on the morrow.

"I have not heard anything like a cheer since I have been out of the house," said Caleb. "If I had heard it, you would not have seen me here. The fun will begin to-morrow when we follow them into the church. I hope we shall not do anything wrong by arresting them in their seats."

"Mother has not said a word about it, so I guess it is all right," said Enoch. "It will show them that we are in earnest."

Caleb struck up another whistle and went on his way, and he had almost reached his home when something startling occurred to him. A man suddenly appeared before him and barred his way. Caleb stopped and waited for him to make known his object, but seeing that the man did not speak, he turned out to go by him when the man suddenly reached out his arm and brought him to another standstill.

"Don't be in too big a hurry, my lad," said he, and it shot through Caleb's mind on the instant that he must be a seafaring man, for the tone of his voice indicated it.

"You don't know where Caleb Young lives about here, do you?"

"Well, if I do, that is my own business," replied Caleb, once more making an effort to leave the man behind. "Why don't you go to some house and inquire?"

"Because I think you are the man we want to see," was the reply. "Come on, boys. Keep still now, or it will be worse for you."

In an instant three other men appeared as if they had risen from the ground, and Caleb became aware that he was in the hands of the Tories. It was too dark to see whether or not the men were armed, but something that stuck out by their sides made him think that each of them had a cutlass strapped to him.

"Look here," said he, backing off a pace or two. "Do you mean to arrest me?"

"We will tell you about that when we get you aboard the vessel," said the man who stood in front of him. "You rebels – Head him off, lads. Knock him down."

The words "rebels" seemed to quicken Caleb's ideas. He saw it all now. He was to be arrested and taken on board the Margaretta and be taken off somewhere so that the magistrate could collect the fine he had imposed upon him. To think with him was to go to work. As quick as thought he ducked his head, not forgetting to throw his bucket loaded with yeast full into the face of the officer, for such Caleb took him to be, and dodging the grasp the man made at him he ran furiously toward his own gate. But he had to deal with men who were as cunning as he was. A fourth man, who stood a little distance behind the officer, clasped him in his strong arms before he had made a dozen steps and threw him to the ground.

"Help!" shouted Caleb, with all the power of his lungs.

"Stop that noise; quick!" exclaimed the officer. "Choke him down."

Caleb did not have time to say all he meant to say when he lifted up his voice in shouting for help, for at that moment the man who had thrown him down changed his grasp from his arms to his throat, and the boy was rendered powerless. It was but the work of a few seconds to tie his hands, and scarcely more to jerk him to his feet and start him down the road toward the harbor. Caleb went because he could not help himself. Two Tories followed close behind him. Each one had hold of his collar, which was drawn so tight that he could not utter a sound. A boat that was drawn up on the beach was ready waiting for them, and Caleb was thrown into it and dragged aft until he was brought up by the stern-sheets. The man whom he took to be an officer turned out to be one sure enough, for he took his seat beside Caleb and went on brushing his coat with his handkerchief to wipe off the yeast.

"I will get even with you, my lad, before we get to New York to pay you for throwing that stuff at me," said he, with something that sounded like an oath. "What was it, you rebel?"

"It is something that won't hurt you any," replied the prisoner, striving to get his throat in order so that he could speak plainly.

"What was it, I ask you!" said the officer, kicking Caleb with his foot. "Do you hear?"

"It is nothing but yeast," said Caleb. "I hope it will raise you up so that it will put a little sense into your head."

It was evident that the rough treatment to which he had been subjected had not taken all the pluck out of Caleb Young. The officer was astonished and gave him three or four kicks in the ribs to show that he did not admire such talk; but the position in which he lay, together with the narrow limits of the boat, rendered the kicks comparatively harmless.

"Shove off," commanded the officer. "Give-away strong and let us get rid of this rebel as soon as we can."

In a few minutes the boat was alongside the schooner, where they found Captain Moore and the other officers waiting for them. A lantern held over the side showed them that the officer had not come back empty-handed.

"You got him, did you?" said the captain, and his voice sounded very unlike the polite tones in which he was accustomed to greet the villagers who came there to see him. He did not live in Machias, but he had been there so often that he was pretty well known to all the towns-people.

"Yes, sir, I have got him," said the officer, touching his hat. "And the rebel threw a bucket of yeast on me when I took him."

"Well, you will pay him for that when we get him to New York," said the captain. "Hoist him up here."

This was the worst part of the treatment to which Caleb had thus far been subjected since his capture. Two of the boat's crew seized him, one at the head and the other at the feet, trying to take him by the clothes but not being particular if they caught up flesh with them, and raised him over their heads, from which position he was received by two more aboard the schooner, who hauled him over the rail and deposited him on the deck as if he had been a log of wood.

"You have got his hands tied, have you not?" said the captain. "Well, release them, and bo'son bring up a set of bracelets and put them on him."

"Do you treat all your prisoners this way, captain?" asked Caleb.

"We treat all rebels this way," was the answer. "The next time you do anything to bring you a fine, be sure you can pay it."

"But, captain – " began Caleb.

"That's enough," said the captain, fiercely. "I know what you have done and so do you. If you talk any more to me I will put a gag in your mouth."

Caleb did not know what a "gag" was, but he came to the conclusion that it was something to add to his punishment, and so he did not say anything more.

CHAPTER VIII
UNDER WAY

The boatswain speedily returned with the "bracelets" which he had been sent to bring, and by that time some of the crew had untied his hands. They proved to be irons, one for his wrists and another for his feet. In less time than it takes to tell it the irons had been put on and now Caleb was a prisoner, sure enough.

"Now, then, take him down and put him in the brig,"⁶ said the captain. "See to it that he does not get anything to eat or a drop of water to drink to pay him for insulting his Majesty's officer by throwing a bucket of yeast at him."

Captain Moore acted as if he were mad about something, and for fear of the "gag" with which he had been threatened Caleb was unable to say a word to him. The boatswain took him by the arm and hurried him forward. The prisoner was pushed rather than led down the gangway to the brig, which was ready to receive him. He saw that the grated door was open, and when he came opposite to it he was shoved headlong into the dark, not knowing where he was going to bring up. But the brig was not deep enough to permit him to fall. By putting his manacled hands in front of him he brought up against the bulkhead with stunning force, and for a moment he stood there not knowing where he was or what to do.

"There, you rebel," said the boatswain, "I guess you will stay there."

The door was closed and locked behind him, and then Caleb turned about. There was a lantern outside which threw its beams into the brig, and by their aid Caleb was enabled to take a view of his prison. It was about six feet square, large enough to hold all the members of the schooner's company who were liable to be put there for various misdemeanors, and there was not a thing in the way of furniture in it – no stool to sit down on and no bed to sleep on. Caleb drew a contrast between that room and his plainly furnished little apartment at home and drew a long-drawn sigh.

"Yes, I guess I will stay here," said he, as he seated himself opposite the door so that he could see all that was going on on deck. "Am I a rebel because Zeke Lewis would not let that magistrate fine me? The magistrate did not care what James said, he wanted to know what I did; and if that is justice I don't want to see any more of it. And I must go to New York. And what is going to become of mother in the meantime? I tell you, I hope that the boys' attempt on this schooner to-morrow will be successful. How I can pass the night waiting for them I don't know."

The first thing that attracted Caleb's attention was that his irons were too tight. They pinched him in every way that he could place them, and he first tried to get them off; but his hands were too big. He did not think he could live that way until he got to New York, and he appealed to the first sailor that came along to take the irons off and replace them with some others; but the sailor smiled grimly and shook his head.

"You threw some yeast at the officer, did you not?" said he.

"He tried to take me while I was minding my own business," said Caleb. "You would have done the same thing if you had been in my place."

"Well, you had better let the irons alone. They don't pinch half as hard as the rope will when you get it around your neck."

Here the sailor turned his head on one side and made a motion with his right hand as if he were pulling something up with it.

"I will not be hanged for that, I tell you," said Caleb. "If the officer wanted me, why did he not come up to the house and arrest me?"

"You have insulted one of his Majesty's officers by throwing that stuff on him, and you don't get anything to eat for a day," said the sailor as he turned away. "You will be hungry before you get your next meal."

"Then I have nothing left for it but to go to sleep," said the prisoner to himself. "That is, if I can go to sleep. If I was master of a vessel I would not treat a captive in this way."

That was a long night to Caleb, but he picked out as comfortable a position as he could on the brig's floor and fell asleep while thinking of his mother and Enoch Crosby. He was as certain as he wanted to be that Enoch and Zeke would turn the village up side-down to find what had become of him, and when they had made up their minds that he was on board the schooner, they would not rest easy until they had rescued him. He was aroused by the changing of watches, and then he did not know anything more until the boatswain called all hands in the morning. He straightened up and took his position opposite the door where he could see the crew as they passed to and fro engaged in their duties of the ship. He knew when the decks were washed down, and when they went to breakfast. There was a mess chest standing on the deck right where he could see it, and the Tories took no little delight in biting off their hard-tack and eating their corned beef before him. But Caleb knew that there was no breakfast waiting for him, although he was as hungry as he ever had been.

After breakfast the decks were swept down, and then an order was passed which Caleb could not understand; but he soon became aware that the crew were getting ready to go ashore. It was Sunday, and of course the men dressed in white on that day. Pretty soon an officer passed, and he was got up with all the gold lace that the law allows, but he paid no attention to the prisoner. Presently a boat was called away, and then another, and Caleb could hear the men scrambling down the side in order to get into them, and he knew that the crew had left barely enough men on board to look out for the safety of the vessel. What a time that would be for the men on shore to capture her! While he was thinking about it a sailor came up alongside the grating which formed the door, and after looking all around to make sure that no one was watching him, he put his hand into his bosom and slipped a small package in to the prisoner.

"There you are," said he. "Eat your fill."

The sailor moved away as quickly as he had come, and Caleb was not long in taking care of the bundle. He took it back out of sight, so that if any one chanced to look in to see what the prisoner was doing, he would not have seen him eating the contents of the package. For there was a good breakfast in there, and how the man had managed to steal it was something that Caleb could not understand.

"I wish I had taken a good look at him," said Caleb, with his mouth full of hard-tack and meat. "I believe that when the attack is made, and it will not be long now, I can do him a favor. He is not a Tory. He belongs on our side easy enough."

Caleb did not want as much to eat as he thought he did, for he stopped every few minutes to listen. But he did not hear any sound to indicate that an attack had been made on the schooner's crew, nor any cheer to tell him that all was ready. An hour passed – such an hour as that was, Caleb hoped he should never live over again – and then hoarse commands were heard on the deck and then a commotion arose which was greater, if possible, than when the boats were called away. The prisoner arose hastily to his feet and pressed his face close to the grating to see if he could discover anything that created such a hubbub; but he could not see anything. But the men were all on deck, and pretty soon he heard the dropping of hand-spikes and the dash of ropes above him as if the crew were getting ready to train a gun upon the town.

"Bussin' on it!" whispered Caleb, who was so excited by what he heard that he repeated Zeke's favorite expression before he knew what he was doing. "It has come. The boys have made the attack and I shall soon be free. There are two persons I want to remember; one is the boatswain who threw me into this brig, and the other is the man who gave me my breakfast. It is coming sure enough."

After the men had got their gun trained, for Caleb was certain that was what they were doing, there was silence for a few minutes, and then he heard the splash of oars in the water. He heard Captain Moore's voice pitched in a loud key, and then he was sure that all of the crew who had gone off in the boats came aboard. That was something for which he could not account. If the attack was made it had failed, and the crew were on the lookout.

"Now, it is mighty strange how those men came aboard," said Caleb, to himself. "And what was the reason they did not arrest them there in the church?"

If Caleb had been in the habit of using strong language he would have used it now, but he did nothing but stand there and wait. The men had taken the alarm, there could be no doubt about that, for presently he heard the vessel moving a little as if springs had been got out to her cables, and she was being moored broadside to the town.

"I wonder if they are going to fire on the village?" said Caleb in great alarm. "If she does, I wonder what will become of my mother? Why can I not escape?"

He seized the grating with both hands and exerted all his strength upon it, but, although he could make the gate rattle, the locks still held firmly in their place. Fifteen minutes passed in this way, and then he heard a roar over his head as if heaven and earth were coming together. Another followed it, and the prisoner, firmly believing that the schooner had opened on the town, for the purpose of setting it on fire, left the grating and seated himself once more in the further end of the brig. The firing continued – how long Caleb did not know; but he realized that he was shutting his ears to all sound of the guns.

"This thing has commenced war with me at any rate," said he, to himself, "and if I ever get free and have a gun in my hands that I can use, I will kill a person for every person in Machias that has been struck by their shells."

Finally the firing ceased, and a sound was heard like a man's steps coming down the companion ladder. When he came nearer Caleb saw that it was the man who had given him his breakfast.

"Say," said he, in a low tone. "How many of them did you kill?"

The man looked around to make sure that there was no one in sight and then replied —

"None of them. We just fired a shot or two over the town to show them that we are on guard. Have you got some relatives there?" he added, noticing that Caleb drew a long breath of relief.

"I should say so. My mother is out there."

The prisoner was about to ask him what was the reason the attack on the schooner had failed, but he happened to think that by so doing he would let out some things that Zeke had cautioned him particularly to guard against; and another thing was, the sailor passed on about his business. He did not have time to exchange another word with him.

"It is lucky that I did not have time to ask him about the attack on the schooner," said Caleb, once more returning to his seat. "He is not a Tory, but I don't know that he is friendly enough to us to keep still about it. Now I want to know what is the reason I did not hear that cheer."

Caleb did not have more than two minutes to turn this matter over in his mind, when some more sailors were heard coming down the ladder. They proved to be the watch who had been granted shore liberty that day, and their business was to change their holiday clothes for their working suits. They worked as if they were in a hurry, paying no attention at all to the prisoner, and as fast as they put on their working clothes they ran on deck. Some more hoarse orders greeted them, and this time they were followed by the creaking of halyards and the singing of men, which told Caleb that they were getting the ship under way. In a few minutes the rattling of the windlass joined in, and by listening intently Caleb heard a man ordered to the wheel. This was as much as he cared to know. He covered his face with his hands and for a moment groaned aloud. He was off for New York, he would be put in jail there for not paying his fine and there was no telling what treatment he would receive after he got there. And his mother too, who was wondering all this time what had become of him! He did not know what to think about her. Enoch and Zeke would have to look out for her, for the chances were that he would never come back. While he was thinking about it, a sailor passed by so close to the grating that Caleb put out his hand and stopped him.

"Are we going to New York now?" he asked.

At this moment an officer, who had stood a little back out of his sight, stepped into view. It was the boatswain – the very man of all others of whom he had learned to stand in fear.

"Look here, you rebel," said he, shaking his brawny fist so close to the grating that Caleb instinctively drew back. "If I hear another word out of you I will start you in a way that will make you open your eyes."

The prisoner released his hold on the door and retreated to the opposite end of his cell. He knew what the boatswain meant by saying that he would "start" him. If he had taken pains to cast his eye about the schooner's deck when he was brought below, he would have seen the dreaded "cat" suspended from the main-mast. Its thongs were all knotted to render the blows more severe, and they were covered with blood. The "cat" had evidently been used upon somebody's bare back, and Caleb did not want to bring it into further use. The only thing he could do was to keep still and let time show him what was coming.