But I knew that I was not heavy enough to hold it down. Would he think of the roof? If he did, and if he came up the ladder, of course he would find the scuttle unlocked, and he would know that I was on the roof. The thing to do was to wait there until he raised the scuttle and then bat him over the head. But unfortunately, I had nothing to bat him with.

Sure enough, here he came up the ladder! I retreated down the slope of the roof,--it was a ticklish job, but again my rubber- soled shoes stood me in good stead--and crawled around to the other side of the broad chimney, and hid behind it.

I had not been there more than a second before he raised the scuttle. I could hear him puffing. Once more my heart began to thump and my throat to contract. He stepped out upon the roof and I suppose he decided immediately that I was behind one of the chimneys. At any rate he started down the roof in my direction.

The instant that he did so he slipped and came down on the roof with a crash. Several shingles must have come out, and he clawed and sc.r.a.ped at a great rate. I thought--and hoped--that he was going to slide right off the roof, but he managed to save himself.

His slide was checked somehow, and he commenced to crawl back toward the scuttle. As he did so he uttered a string of curses that would have horrified his friends in Lanesport very much.

I heard him descend the ladder. It struck me that he was going down to the side of the house, to look up to the roof and see if I were really behind the chimney. I hurried out from my hiding-place and crawled on my hands and knees up the slope of the roof. But when I reached the scuttle I found it closed and locked. I could not raise it. He had caught me now,--I might stay on that roof forever, for all that I could do.

Unless--and I already had my jack-knife out--unless I could cut through the scuttle and get at the hasp. The wood was old, frail, and half rotten,--in three minutes I had the point of the blade through. In five, I had cut a hole large enough to admit two fingers. I knew that I was safe from being seen,--anyone on that part of the roof would not be visible from the ground near the house. After cutting for a little while longer I put enough of my hand through the hole to unfasten the hasp. Then I raised the scuttle, with the pleasant sensation that this was quite in line with our escape from the jail at Bailey's Harbor. Even better than that,--I was alone here, and cutting my way out,--or rather down, with a jack-knife. It gave me a thrill like some of the adventures in "The Rifle Rangers," and various other story-books.

No more of the roof, no more of the attic for me! I was tired of being chased about like an animal in a cage,--I was going to get down stairs and outdoors if I possibly could. I preferred to take a chance with Mr. Snider in the open.

So I went down the ladder very cautiously and listened in the attic. Then came the attic stairs, at the foot of which there was a door to open. I got it open, and stepped into the pa.s.sage-way. I could hear nothing. Mr. Snider thought I was safely locked up there on the roof. Little by little and pausing for two or three minutes on each landing, I crept quietly down stairs.

When I reached the lower hall I was in doubt whether to go out the front or the back door. But the back door was open, and so I chose that. I walked quietly out, crossed the back yard, and nearly ran into Mr. Snider's arms, as he came out of the woodshed with an ugly looking club in his hand!

He was more surprised than I, and that gave me the start I needed.

He was after me in a second, but I ran around the corner of the house and headed for the front yard. Coming through the driveway was the Professor! I suppose that he had just come up from his hiding-place beneath the wharf, for his arms were full of his boxes. As soon as I saw him I turned sharply to the right, ran through the side-yard by the speakers' stand, and climbed a rail fence on the far side of the garden.

Then I ran down a little slope toward a clump of trees. As I did so, I looked back and saw Mr. Snider crawling through the fence.

The trees stood on a little hummock,--there were about a dozen of them, with some undergrowth. I ran through this, and came out on a rough ledge of rocks, which ended in a little beach. I had come to the sh.o.r.e on the other side of the island. Here was a small bay, not more than a hundred yards in width.

Sailing slowly out of this bay was a cat-boat, with a skull and cross-bones pirate-flag at the mast-head. It was the "Hoppergra.s.s"!

CHAPTER XI

PIRATES IN TROUBLE

"Hi! Captain Bannister!" I shouted, "hi!"

Someone--not the Captain, but a boy in a blue shirt--looked up from the wheel. Then I heard Mr. Snider come crashing and floundering through the underbrush, so I waded into the water until I was waist-deep and then struck out to swim. Before I had made a dozen strokes Mr. Snider emerged, and ran down to the water's edge.

But I had no idea he would follow me now. He didn't look like a person who could swim,--nor even like one who enjoyed cold water much. I glanced back at him over my shoulder,--he was simply standing there, gazing after me, and rubbing his hands together excitedly, clasping and unclasping them.

"Captain Bannister!" I called out again, "the Hoppergra.s.s! Wait!"

The boy who was steering put the helm over a trifle, altering the course of the boat a little more in my direction. Another boy came up from below, and stood there staring at me. In three minutes I was alongside, and reaching out for the tender.

"Let me come aboard!" I gasped,--"that man--"

But I was too much winded to say anything more. With some difficulty--for I had been swimming harder than was necessary--I crawled into the tender, and sat down to get my breath. As I sat there, one of the boys said:

"Why, that's Mr. Snider!"

Then he pulled the tender alongside, and I stepped on board the "Hoppergra.s.s."

"Now, I know why you were running," said he,--"anyone would run to get away from Snider. Has he been advising you to be good?"

"He's been trying to--I don't know what. Kill me, I guess. Do you know him?"

"Don't we!" they both exclaimed together.

And then the one at the wheel said: "Has he g-got his g-gold machine here?"

"Yes," I said, "he and another man. They're a couple of crooks, and they're cheating people out of stacks of money. How did you know him?"

"Oh, he's b-been at the house. But after the first t-time we always s-skun out, over the back f-fence when we heard he was coming. Mr. Chick brought him,--to talk b-business with F- Father."

The "Hoppergra.s.s," still sailing slowly, had drawn near the point of land at the entrance of the little bay. Mr. Snider, who had walked a few steps along the sh.o.r.e, stood near this point,-- watching us. We pa.s.sed so near him that I could easily have hit him with a base-ball, if I had had one, and felt so inclined. It was curious to be so near a man who, five minutes earlier, had been chasing me with a club. He was still clasping and unclasping his hands nervously, but he said nothing, and neither did we.

After about half a minute he turned, and hurried through the trees in the direction of the house.

"I think I'll get some dry clothes," said I, starting toward the cabin. Then I stopped,--it occurred to me that there were some questions to be asked. Up to this moment I had been so glad to get away from Mr. Snider, and to find the boat again, that I had thought of nothing else.

"Say--look here--you know,--how do you happen to be on this boat, anyhow? Where's Captain Bannister?"

Both the boys turned red, and looked silly. They were twins evidently,--exactly the same size, and almost precisely alike in the face. Each of them had bright red hair, a great many freckles, and a snub nose.

"Are you one of the fellows that was on this boat?" asked one of them.

"Yes," said I. And I told them my name. "That's my shirt you've got on, by the way."

"T-t-tell him about it, S-S-Spike," said the one at the wheel.

"Tell him yourself!" growled the other.

"W-Well," said the steersman, giving the wheel a twist, "you s- see... you s-see... oh! I can't t-tell him,--it makes me s- stutter so d-darned much!"

"Go ahead!" returned Spike.

"Well," he began again, "you s-see, we were all going to B-Big D- Duck for a month, an' F-Father said--oh! our name is K-K-Kidd, you know,--the K-Kidd kids,--th-there! everybody has to spring that old chestnut about us, because they think it's f-funny. It's so old it's m-m-mouldy, but we might as well s-say it and g-g-get it over with! W-Well, we were all going to Big D-D-Duck, s-s-same's we do every s-summer. B-But F-Father got awful cranky 'cause we f- fell behind at s-school last year, and he m-mapped out a p-p- programme of entertainments f-for us this s-summer that didn't strike us as--as--as exactly oh! as exactly b-b-bully, you know...

In f-fact, it was b-b-b.u.m! S-Studying about all s-summer... S-Say, w-won't you f-freeze?"

I thought I might do so, myself, so I took off my wet clothes, and spread them out in the sun. Then I went below, found my bag, brought it up on deck, and began to dress again. He went on, in the meantime, with his story.

"Well, F-Father didn't c-c-confess his f-foul p-plot till the very d-day we were going to Big D-Duck. That was--it was--oh, when was it, S-S-Spike?"

"It was--er--I'm all mixed up about time," said Spike.

"S-Same here," replied the other.

"It was day before yesterday,--Tuesday," Spike finally remarked.