depart, his eyes chanced to alight upon Bub. Without a word of warning,
he seized him by the arm and dropped him over the rail into the waiting
boat; and then, with a parting wave of his hand, he followed him.

It was only natural that Bub should be frightened at this unexpected
happening. All the terrible stories he had heard of the Russians served
to make him fear them, and now returned to his mind with double force.
To be captured by them was bad enough, but to be carried off by them,
away from his comrades, was a fate of which he had not dreamed.

"Be a good boy, Bub," the captain called to him, as the boat drew away
from the _Mary Thomas_'s side, "and tell the truth!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" he answered, bravely enough, by all outward appearance.
He felt a certain pride of race, and was ashamed to be a coward before
these strange enemies, these wild Russian bears.

"Und be politeful!" the German boat-steerer added, his rough voice
lifting across the water like a fog-horn.

Bub waved his hand in farewell, and his mates clustered along the
rail as they answered with a cheering shout. He found room in the
stern-sheets, where he fell to regarding the lieutenant. He didn't look
so wild or bearish, after all--very much like other men, Bub concluded,
and the sailors were much the same as all other man-of-war's men he had
ever known. Nevertheless, as his feet struck the steel deck of the
cruiser, he felt as if he had entered the portals of a prison.

For a few minutes he was left unheeded. The sailors hoisted the boat up,
and swung it in on the davits. Then great clouds of black smoke poured