Barchi was next hauled in, quite meek and resigned from
his soaking. When we had ten in, our boat we drew back, and the
second Whitehall was loaded. The third Whitehall received nine
prisoners only--a catch of twenty-nine in all.
"You didn't get the Porpoise," the Centipede said exultantly, as
though his escape materially diminished our success.
Charley laughed. "But we saw him just the same, a-snorting for
shore like a puffing pig."
It was a mild and shivering band of pirates that we marched up the
beach to the oyster house. In answer to Charley's knock, the door
was flung open, and a pleasant wave of warm air rushed out upon us.
"You can dry your clothes here, lads, and get some hot coffee,"
Charley announced, as they filed in.
And there, sitting ruefully by the fire, with a steaming mug in his
hand, was the Porpoise. With one accord Nicholas and I looked at
Charley. He laughed gleefully.
"That comes of imagination," he said. "When you see a thing,
you've got to see it all around, or what's the good of seeing it at
all? I saw the beach, so I left a couple of constables behind to
keep an eye on it.
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