deck, there! What in the name of Davy Jones is the matter?”

“That’s Terror Carson!” cried Noddy. “Come on, let’s get forward. No escape for us to-night.”

The two boys rushed toward the bow just in time to avoid Carson, who came rushing on deck followed by his mate. They bolted into Noddy’s sanctum in time to avoid the crew, who came tumbling up the fore-hatchway, and hastily removed their shrouds and washed off the phosphorus. Then they ran out and mingled with the crowd on deck as if they had just been aroused by the confusion.

It was a wild scene on the deck of the Polly Ann. Carson himself had seized the tiller and was holding the craft on her course, but two sails had been ripped and a lot of water shipped over the bow. The boys came out just in time to see some sailors dragging Pompey aft from the galley, where he had taken refuge from what he thought were supernatural visitors.

The black was beside himself with fear of Terror Carson and alarm at what he had seen. He stammered out incoherent explanations about being scared from the wheel by “ghostesses.” Carson roared savagely at him. He declared he had a good mind to have him flogged. But finally he commuted the sentence to two days in irons. The boys felt conscience-stricken at having involved poor Pompey in such a quandary, yet they could not have made explanations without making matters worse.

Fortunately for them, the confusion and crowd on deck were so great that nobody noticed from what direction they came when they appeared, and it was taken for granted by all concerned that both had rushed from their bunks when the general alarm that followed the “broaching to” of the schooner took place.

And so ended their first attempt to escape from the seal poacher Polly Ann. Both lads were bitterly disappointed at the way Fate had turned her face against them, but both determined to try again at the first opportunity. Meantime, the Polly Ann forged northward, and destiny was weaving strange threads which were fated to form an important part in the fabrics of their lives.

CHAPTER XI: A FIENDISH PLOT.

Captain Briggs, in a sheepish sort of way, tried to make friends with Jack following the episode on the dock. But Jack had little use for the man and kept on with his own devices, paying little attention to Captain Briggs, except in the line of duty.

On the night before which they 

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