We've got stones and shells enough. Hurry--big
ones, mind you!"
The attacking party, their leader ahead, had now
reached the low sand heap marking the grave of the
former wreck, but a dozen yards away--the sand had
entombed it the year before.
"You fellers think yer durned smart, don't ye?"
yelled Mr. William Mulligan, surnamed "Scootsy"
from his pronounced fleetness of foot. "We're goin'
to run ye out o' that Tub. 'Tain't yourn, it's ourn--
ain't it, fellers?"
A shout went up in answer from the group on the
hillock.
"You can come as friends, but not as enemies,
cried Archie grandiloquently. "The man who sets
foot on this ship without permission dies like a dog.
We sail under the blood-red flag!" and Archie struck
an attitude and pointed to the fragment of mother
Fogarty's own nailed to a lath and hanging limp over
the rail.
"Hi! hi! hi!" yelled the gang in reply. "Oh,
ain't he a beauty! Look at de cotton waddin' on his
head!" (Archie's cropped curls.) "Say, sissy,
does yer mother know ye're out? Throw that ladder
down; we're comin' up there--don't make no diff'rence
whether we got yer permish or not--and
we'll knock the stuffin' out o' ye if ye put up any job
on us.
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