Beadle's Dime Novels No. 87: On the Deep — page 25: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A SHOT. 2 spars and canvas. We may contrive, in this way, to edge off some distance from the schooner, in the dark. | “A good plan, ‘ previding’ wecan do this without being discoyered,” returned Block, “but, that canoe humbug is, I dare say, even now somewhere on the lookout.” “We will try at any rate, and sce what we can do!” Accordingly, all hands, with the exception of the lookouts, were set to work. ‘The ship’s lanterns afforded such poor light, however, that it was a long time before the first spar was hoisted to the stump of the mainmast. Just as the men © were preparing to secure it, a bright flash was seen off the lee bow; a loud report followed, and the next moment a ten- pound shot went howling over the heads of the sailors. “Confound the rascals,” growled Block, between his set teeth, “I thought things would turn out in this way. There’s an end to our getting up jury-masts, Captain Capstan, They’ve been reconsidering us again, and know what we're . about.” “ Ay, ay,’ roared Capstan, savagely, “and they’re a sneak- ing pack of thieves. If I had a few more men, I'd venture to board and carry the schooner !” “Good!” exclaimed the professor of languages, who had been stationed near the tackle to help hoist the spar, “ very good !” As he spoke, he wound an old red comforter tightly about his wasp-like waist, and emphatically tapped the handle of his cutlass. In addition to the comforter, he wore patched duck trow- sers, a red: shirt, and an old smoking-cap, which articles he thought gave him something the air of a piratical desperado. His shipmates might have thought so too, had not his figure borne some resemblance to a pair of tongs. His nose was not . very warlike, either, being curved like a trumpet, and bridged by a. pair of green spectacles. Capstan looked at him with a grim smile. “T tell you what it is, my man,” he said, in a gruff voice, “don’t lef me catch you shirking when we come to close quarters with them cut-throats. I rather think you've got too much l’arning to be very spunky = “-Nous verrons!” cried the professor, gnashing his teeth comicbooks.com