The First Capture; or, Hauling Down the Flag of England

A REBELLION IN THE COURT-ROOM.

"Father, look at my face," said James, who was the first to begin the conversation. "Just look at it."

"Yes, I see it," said the old gentleman, angrily. "You have been having an argument with some of those young rebels and you have got the knock-down end of it. I will wager that Caleb Young and Enoch Crosby know something about it."

"They were both there," said James, seating himself on the steps, "but Caleb was the only one who struck me. Now, father, what am I going to do about it? I can't go around with my face this way."

"Do you mean to say that you gave up to Caleb and that he struck you only once?" exclaimed Mr. Howard. "You would make a pretty fight, you would."

"But, father, you don't know anything about the strength in that fellow's arms," whined James. "I would just as soon have a horse kick me. I want to see the magistrate about this."

"Let us go up there at once," said Mr. Howard, putting on his hat. "We don't want to let the grass grow under our feet until this thing is settled. These young rebels are getting altogether too brash. They want to be shut up for a while. I wish I had them in England. When they were there, they would find themselves among gentlemen, and they could not talk as they pleased."

"Do you believe you can put him under lock and key for hitting me?" said James. He began to be all excitement now. To see Caleb Young put in jail for what he had done would be ample recompense for him.

"I assure you that I am going to try it. How did the argument begin in the first place?"

James hesitated when his father propounded this question. When he came to think the matter over he found that he had given Caleb good reason for knocking him down. He might have to make the complaint under oath when he came before the magistrate, and he concluded that it was best to tell the truth while he was about it.

"I said that all those who were in that massacre would be hung some day," began James.

"Good enough. You told him the truth."

"And I told him that if he were there I would be one of the first to grab the rope and haul him up," continued James. "Caleb or Enoch, I have forgotten which one, replied that if he went and talked that way about his neighbors, he ought to be hanged."

"And he knocked you down for that?" exclaimed Mr. Howard. "You did perfectly right in saying what you did, and if I were magistrate I would shut him up for two or three days at least."

These last words were spoken as they were passing along the streets toward the magistrate's office. There were many people loitering about, for the news of the battle of Lexington had not been thoroughly discussed, and the inhabitants of Machias could not get over it. Every one knew what was the matter with James without any telling. The provincials smiled and nodded their heads in a way that showed young Howard that he was served just right, while the Tories grew angrier than ever, and insisted on hearing all about it. Before reaching the magistrate's office James began to think that he was something of a hero in town, and fully expected to see Caleb shut up for a long time.

When they arrived at their journey's end they found the magistrate there as well as two constables, who were hanging around for a chance to serve some papers which were slowly being made out for them. The magistrate was surprised when he saw such a company of men coming into his office, for be it known that a good many people, both Tories and provincials, had turned about and gone with them. They wanted to see what was going to be done in regard to it.

"Bless us!" he exclaimed, when he saw James' battered face. "What have you been doing?"

"I have not been doing anything," said James, in an injured tone. "A young rebel got mad at me for something I had said and knocked me down."

"Aha! A young rebel!" said the magistrate, the scowl deepening upon his forehead; for he was one of those "aggressive" Tories who believed in making war upon all those people who did not hold to his own opinions. "Do you want to make out a complaint against him? I will fine him a pound at least. These rebels have got to be kept within bounds. I will make out the papers right away. Here are two constables ready to serve them," he added, speaking in a low tone to Mr. Howard. "You had better have two go with them, for there are some rebels around here and maybe they will stand by to protect him."

The magistrate made a great flourish and prepared to go on with his warrant, while James and his father took time to look about upon the crowd that had followed them in. There were more rebels than Tories in the party, and that was easy enough to be seen. Some of the former exchanged a few words in whispered consultation and then went out, but the Tories stood their ground.

"There!" said the magistrate, who at last turned about with the completed document in his hand. "Kelly, take this, go up to Young's house and arrest Caleb in the name of the king. I need not add that if he does not come you will call upon any man present to help you."

"I don't know as I had better go up there alone," whispered the constable. "The rebels are out in full force."

"Then take Nolton with you. You surely do not need two constables to arrest a boy! Take notice of the way he acts and I will fine him for that, too."

The constables went out reluctantly, for they were about to undertake something which the magistrate himself would have shrunk from if he had been in their place. After thinking a moment Mr. Howard drew nearer to the judge.

"You spoke of fining that boy just now," said he. "What is there to hinder you from shutting him up for three or four days? If the rebels are to be held within bounds, I don't know of a better way of doing than that."

"That is what I think," whispered the magistrate. "But you can't do that for assault and battery. If you could prove that he tried to kill James, why then——"

"How do we know that he did not try to kill him?" asked Mr. Howard. "He knocked him down and there he let him lie."

"Well, we will see about it when he comes. I will shut him up if I can."

GETTING READY FOR THE FRAY.

"Three cheers for Zeke Lewis and Caleb Young!" shouted one of the provincials, when they came out of the door and appeared upon the street.

"No, no, lads," said Zeke, raising his hand as if to stop the demonstration. "We have got him out of being fined or going to jail, but remember that we are not done with it yet. It will not be long before we shall see some British regulars up here to ask us what we mean by it. We have got to fight, and we may as well make up our minds to it first as last."

"Hear, hear!" shouted three or four of those who stood around him. "If the regulars come at us, we'll serve them worse than they did at Lexington. Three cheers for them!"

The cheers were given in spite of what Zeke had said, and some of them persisted in shaking Caleb by the hand. They passed on, and in a few minutes were out of the crowd and started toward home. There were three of them who kept Caleb company to see that he reached the presence of his mother in safety, they were Mr. O'Brien, Joseph Wheaton and Enoch Crosby. They did not have much to say about what had happened in the court-room, but Caleb knew why they went with him. On their way to his house they passed within plain sight of the harbor, and the first thing that attracted their attention was the schooner Margaretta, riding proudly at her anchorage, and flying the flag of England from her peak. Zeke thought this a good time to exhibit his hostility to that flag, which he did by shaking his fist at it.

"If it had not been for Wheaton here, I would not have thought of taking that schooner," said he.

"I had an idea that somebody besides you thought of that," said O'Brien, turning around and shaking Wheaton by the hand. "It did not sound like you in the first place, but, when somebody else proposed it, you went in strong for it. What was the reason you did not propose it yourself, Wheaton?"

"You see I have not lived here long enough to become acquainted with everybody as Zeke has," replied Wheaton. "I lived in New York until a few months ago, and I thought the proposition had better come from an older inhabitant. They might think that I suggested it just to hear myself talk; but it would be different coming from Zeke."

"That is just what he told me," assented Zeke. "And I kept thinking what a fool I was not to think of it long ago. Wheaton, when we get that schooner, you must haul down that flag."

"I will attend to that," said the young man, with a laugh. "If the flag of England is going to wave over us as an emblem of tyranny, we want it pulled down. But the fact of the matter is, we have not got any other flag to be hoisted in the place of it."

"No matter for that," said Mr. O'Brien. "We will have that flag hauled down, and that is all we care for. Now, Caleb, go in and see your mother."

Caleb was not a boy who had been educated, but he knew enough to thank Zeke for what he had done; but Zeke patted him on the back and said that was all right, and pushed him through the gate that led into the yard.

"Remember now, that when you hear the cheer to-morrow you are to come down and help capture that schooner," said he. "And bring every friend you see. We may get her without a fight."

"No, we won't," replied Caleb. "I know the most of those men who belong to her, and I know that they will stand by their captain. We shall not have as many men when we get back as we have when we first go aboard that schooner."

"I know them, too," said Zeke, raising his left hand and slapping the other with it with a report like that of a pistol. "But I would stick a pitchfork into my own brother if he were there and should resist me. We are bound to have that schooner."

All were encouraged to hear Zeke talk in this way and Caleb said he "hoped so" and went in to see his mother; while Enoch, who had left the table bareheaded, started homeward on a rapid run. He did not find his mother as excited as she ought to have been. She was sitting in her easy-chair with her knitting before her, and looked at Enoch's flushed face when he came in as calmly as though he had been to the store for some groceries.

"Well," she said, and her voice was as steady as usual, "you have had an exciting scene there in the court-room."

"What do you know about it?" asked Enoch in surprise.

"I just judged by your face," replied his mother. "How did Caleb get the fine that the judge imposed upon him?"

"That old Tory did not get it," exclaimed the boy. "I tell you we have got up a rebellion now, and we may have some soldiers to settle with before we get through with it. It beats anything I ever heard of."

Enoch then went on and told his mother as nearly as he could what had happened there in the court-room. His mother's eyes flashed and she laid down her knitting. He even told her about the plans that had been laid for seizing the schooner, but did not neglect to caution her not to say a word about it where the Tories could overhear it.

"I have agreed to go too, mother," he added.

"Well," she replied, glancing up at the old flint-lock over the fireplace, "that rifle will have to be cleaned up. And you will need some bullets, too. Remember that when your father drew on an Indian after he came out of the service, he was always sure to bring him."

"And if I pull on a redcoat with that gun I don't believe he will do any more shooting at our side of the house," said Enoch, getting up in a chair and taking the musket down. "It is awful heavy, is it not?"

"Yes, and that's the kind it needs to bring an enemy down every time you get a sight at him. Clean it up bright for the least little speck of rust in it will throw your ball where you don't want it to go. I hope the Britishers will give up before you have a chance to shoot at them."

"But if they don't—then what?"

"You must shoot to hit. Bear in mind that you had an uncle in that fight at Lexington, and we don't know whether he was killed or not. He did not miss, either. Every time he pulled on a redcoat he could tell right where he hit him."

"Of course I can't shoot with him; but, as Caleb said, I can make a noise. I can handle the halyards of a sail better than I can handle this thing."

The cleaning of the gun occupied Enoch for the next hour, and finally he got it so that the water came through clean and bright without a particle of rust in it. He had been outside the kitchen door engaged in his occupation, and when he came in to tell his mother what he had done, he found her in front of the fireplace running bullets.

"Mother, you have no business to do that," he exclaimed.

"I want to get all the balls solid, for if you run them in haste you will see little holes in them," she replied. "The bullets thus formed always go wild, and you cannot do good shooting with them. Now, Enoch, have you got some powder? That you have in the horn has been there for a long time, and I fear that it has lost its strength. You had better go down to the store and lay in a new supply."

Enoch thought that his mother would have felt a little happier if she had been a man, so that she could have taken part in seizing the schooner. He wished that that cheer would sound out now, so that he could go into danger with his comrades and see Wheaton haul that flag down; but he checked himself with the thought that that cheer was not to sound until to-morrow. He wanted to show something else that he had done, so he continued:

"I have picked the flint so that it will strike fire every time. Just see how it works."

He cocked the flint-lock several times and pulled the trigger, and each time little sparks of fire shot down into the chamber. The gun was all right. It only remained for him to hold it true so that the bullets would reach their mark.

"That is right, my lad," said his mother, approvingly. "Before we get through we will show the redcoats that they are making war upon their brothers. Send one shot, Enoch, to pay them for taxing that tea."

Enoch accepted some money to pay for the powder he was to buy at the store, and when he reached the street he saw Caleb coming along as if somebody had sent for him. His face, whenever he met Enoch, was always wrinkled up with smiles, and it proved on this occasion to be the news of what Enoch had already passed through—the getting ready for the assault upon the Margaretta.

"I went out to clean the gun and when I came back my mother was running bullets," said Caleb; and he rubbed his hands together as if he could hardly wait for the cheer to sound. "She thinks that some of us are going to get hurt."

"I guess I have been through the same thing," said Enoch. "I'll wager that if mother were in my place she would not sleep at all to-night. She told me to give them one shot and think of the tea they have taxed against her. Hallo! Here comes Zeke. He walks as though he was in a hurry."

"Bussin' on it!" exclaimed Zeke, when he came up. "I would like to know what the magistrate and Jeems Howard has been aboard that boat for. You see, we were watching that boat to find out whether or not she was going to stay at anchorage until to-morrow, and that's the way we happened to see them."

"Let them go," said Enoch. "They have probably been telling the captain about our rebellion there in the court-room."

"Well, he can't do anything," said Zeke. "If he turns his guns loose on the town——"

"He can't do that," said Caleb. "War has not been declared yet."

"There is no telling what these Britishers will do when once they get their dander up. But I was just saying, suppose he did turn them loose; we have got two four-pounders that we could bring to bear on the schooner, and make her drop down away from there. But I hope that he won't get away before morning. If he does, I shall be sorry that we did not attack her to-night."

"Where are you going in such a hurry, anyway?" asked Enoch.

"I am going down to see Wheaton about it. If you hear that cheer sounded to-night you will be on hand, won't you?"

The boys said emphatically that they would, and then Caleb went on to tell him what they had done to get ready for the assault, not forgetting to give all the praise to their mothers.

"That's right," said Zeke. "If all the boys were as plucky as their mothers we would have easy times of it. I haven't got any gun to take; but I have a pitchfork handy, and you will see some red dust on it before this thing is over."

"Oh, I hope they won't fight," said Enoch. "We will get a bigger crowd than they can show——"

"I don't care how big our crowd is, we are going to have a fight," interrupted Caleb. "I will wager that you will see some mourning in Machias before the sun gets where he is now."

Zeke walked off laughing as if that was a story rather hard to believe, and the boys kept on their way to the grocery store. They found Emerson Miller there, but he was not so talkative as he was a little while ago. The boys did not like the way the storekeeper acted. He was leaning over the counter talking to Emerson, but when the two entered he straightened up and moved back to the rear end of the store.

"I guess you have got some powder, haven't you?" said Enoch. "Well, if you have, I want a pound of it."

"I would like to know what all you fellows are getting powder for," said the man. "Do you expect the Britishers up here to-night?"

"I don't know about that," said Enoch. "But we intend to be all ready for them when they do come. We will serve them as badly as they were served at Lexington."

"You will, eh?" said the grocery keeper, turning fiercely upon the boys. "What would you do if the Margaretta should cut loose on us and burn the town?"

"We would whip her, that's all," replied Caleb. "She can't do it. She must wait until war is declared before she can do that."

"I don't know whether I will give you any powder or not," said the man. "You boys act almost too independent."

"Just as you please, sir," retorted Enoch, while Caleb was angry in an instant. "If you don't want to sell us any powder, you can say so."

"I will give you some this time, but if you come in here any more you don't want to be quite so bold in regard to what you would do and what you would not," replied the man; but Enoch rightly concluded that this was not his reason. If he refused to give him what he called for, how long would it be before all the provincials in the village would hear of it and come there to see him about it? And if Zeke came he was sure that he would not escape without a whipping. He went and got the powder, while the two boys stood looking at each other in amazement. When the article was done up Enoch paid for it and the two left the store.

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.

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.