I gave orders for immediate fitting of my new craft, and delivery on
the spot; and within the hour, although regarded with much suspicion
by the town marshal and many leading citizens, I set out for our
bivouac, with the aid of the late owner of the boat, to whom I gave
assurance that no evil should befall him. When we chugged along the
shore, and slackened opposite our camp, I heard the stern voice of
Lafitte hail us: "Ship ahoy!" (Perhaps he saw me at the stern sheets.) "Aye! Aye! mate!" I answered, through my cupped hands. "Bear a hand
with our landing line." Whereat my hardy band came running and made us
fast.
"What has gone wrong, Black Bart?" demanded L'Olonnois, uncertain of
my status. "Hast met mishap and struck colors?"
"By no means!" I rejoined. "This is a prize, our first capture. And
since she has struck her colors, let us mount our own at her foremast
and ship our band to a bigger and faster craft."
The late owner, who bore the name of Robinson, looked on much
perplexed, and, I think, in some apprehension, for he must have
thought us dangerous, whether sane or mad.
"Who'll run her?" he at length demanded of me, looking from me to my
two associates. Then forth and stood Jean Lafitte; and answered a
question I confess I had not yet myself asked: "Ho! I guess a fellow
who can run a gasoline pump in a creamery can handle one of them
things. So think not, fellow, to escape us!"
I reassured Robinson, who was apparently ready to make a run for it;
and I explained to Lafitte and L'Olonnois my plan.
"We'll by no means discard our brig, the original Sea Rover," said
I, "and we'll tow her along as our tender. But we'll christen the
prize the Sea Rover instead, and hoist our flag over her--and paint
on her name at the first point of call we make. Now, let us hasten,
for two thousand miles of sea lie before us, and Robinson is also five
miles from home."
But Robinson became more and more alarmed each moment. He had my
money, I his bill of sale, but ride back to town with us he would not.
Instead, he washed his hands of us and started back afoot--to get the
town marshal, I was well convinced. It mattered little to us; for once
more did sturdy Jean Lafitte more than make good his boast. With one
look at the gasoline tank to assure himself that all was well, he made
fast the painter of the old Sea Rover, and even as L'Olonnois with
grim determination planted the Jolly Rover above our bows, and as I
tossed aboard the cargo of our former craft, Lafitte cranked her up
with master hand, threw in the gear, and with a steady eye headed her
for midstream, where town marshals may not come.