the perfect little ship Firefly from stem to stern. They had
made friends with every man on board and were in the way of
accumulating a strange assortment of facts from their new
friends.

Sunday services, read by the grizzled old Captain, seemed very
solemn and strangely touching. They were held on deck, where the
rattling of shrouds and the soft lap of the water made a
wonderful accompaniment to the familiar words of the prayer book.
The boys could not help noticing that every man listened closely
and respectfully. They joined in the responses, and sang lustily
when it came time for the hymns.

The Captain did not read a sermon. Instead he closed the book,
and for a short five minutes spoke to the men simply, clearly,
and to the point. Then there was one more song. Services do not
usually end with it; but as the sound rose, the boys thrilled and
chilled with patriotism. It was "My Country, 'tis of thee" and
those men roared it from the depths of their big, honest, loyal
hearts.

When the group scattered, Porky and Beany went forward and stood
looking into the distance that bid their Great Adventure. That
the Adventure was at that moment approaching, drawing nearer and
nearer, they did not dream. The sea looked too calm, too serene,
to hide such a terror. They were talking about the safe and
quiet crossing they were having when Colonel Bright approached.

"What now, my gay young buccaneer?" he asked, stopping and
lighting a cigar.