The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne

by oars in the hands of Bruce, Arthur, Bart, and Tom. The schooner came on, nearer and nearer, and finally came within hail.

      “Schooner, ahoy!”

      “Boat, ahoy!”

      “Where are you bound?”

      “Schooner Dart—St. John.”

      “All right. We want to go aboard.”

      In a few moments the boat was alongside, and the boys were all aboard. They waved a farewell to the landlord, who dropped astern, and then turned to the skipper to make known their wants.

      The first look which they gave to the skipper, who was standing there before them, was enough to fill them with surprise and delight. In that broad, thick-set frame, and that honest, jovial face, they recognized an old friend and a cherished one—one, too, who was associated with the memories of former adventures; in fact, no other than Captain Pratt. At so strange and unexpected a meeting they were all filled with amazement. One cry burst from them all,—

      “Captain Pratt!”

      The worthy Pratt, on his part, was no less surprised, and, it must be added, no less delighted.

      “Why, boys, where in the world have you sprung from? Have you been a cruisin about Minas Basin ever since? It looks like it; but railly now—it can’t be—it can’t railly.”

      “Well, not exactly,” said Bart, who then and there began to give a brief outline of the adventures of the “B. O. W. C.” since the time of their visit to Pratt’s Cove, where they had last parted with their worthy friend.

      Never was there a pleasanter meeting. It was altogether unexpected, yet not unnatural, for Captain Pratt was a frequent cruiser over these waters, and was now, as he informed them, on his way to St. John with a cargo of deals. The jovial captain made them tell the whole story of all their adventures since they had last parted with him, in the Bay of Fundy, in the country about the Bay de Chaleur, in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, at Anticosti, Sable Island, and Mahone Bay, and thus acquainted himself with every particular of the wonderful story which they had to tell. The worthy captain regarded it all as a joke, and at every fresh incident his homeric laughter burst forth in long, irrepressible peals.

      But such a story occupied some time in the narration, and before it was ended the schooner was far out of the Strait of Minas, beyond Ile Haute, in the Bay of Fundy. On one side lay the Nova Scotia shore, on the other the coast of New Brunswick. Before them extended the waters of the bay.

      Night came, and they all slept. On the following day, in the afternoon, they reached St John.

      Their adventures for a time were over. Bart took all his friends to his own home, where they spent two or three days.

      Then they separated, Phil going to Nova Scotia, and Bruce, Arthur, and Tom to Prince Edward Island. Pat remained with Bart for the rest of the holidays.