Part 36 (2/2)

It was the end of the _Luckenback_ and somewhere at the bottom of the sea her distorted steel plating marks the spot where rest the nine members of her crew lost before the rescuing Coast Guard cutter hove in sight.

CHAPTER XI

THE WRECKERS OF THE SPANISH MAIN

”Well, Eric,” said Homer Tierre to his friend, as they stood together one evening a few days after the rescue of the survivors of the _Luckenback_, watching the phosph.o.r.escence of the sea, ”we're getting down to the old Spanish Main, now.”

”Isn't that a great word for bringing up ideas!” exclaimed Eric in reply. ”It makes one think of the old stories we used to read as kids, of the black flag with the skull and crossbones and all that sort of thing. Too bad there aren't any pirates left!”

”I suppose you'd want us to go chasing them!”

”Of course. We should have to, if there were any, wouldn't we?”

”Certainly,” his friend answered. ”Don't you remember how the old bos'n of the _Itasca_ used to tell us about the early days of the Revenue Cutter Service when chasing pirates was a regular part of its duties?

Officially it is still, I suppose, but there aren't any more pirates to chase.”

”What has put them all out of business?” Eric said thoughtfully. ”I've often wondered.”

”Steam, mainly,” his friend replied, ”that 'insult to a seaman's intelligence,' as our friend the fluent skipper of the _Northwestern_ called it.”

”But I don't see why,” persisted Eric. ”After all, in the days of sailing s.h.i.+ps, the pirates only had sailing s.h.i.+ps--and they weren't always such an awful lot faster. Why couldn't pirates to-day have steams.h.i.+ps, just as fast in comparison to the steamers of to-day as their clippers were to the sailing s.h.i.+ps of old? They'd get much bigger hauls. Why, one good hold-up of an Atlantic steamer would make a pirate crew rich for life!”

”You'd better take to the trade,” suggested his companion.

”I'd sooner do the chasing,” replied the boy; ”it's much more fun, anyway, and I'd rather be on the right side, every time. But don't you think that there really would be a chance for a big Atlantic greyhound pirate?”

”I don't think so,” the other answered meditatively. ”For one thing, we'd have pirates if there was any such chance. After all, Eric, you've got to remember that a pirate was successful because of his own personality. They were a mighty forceful lot--Kidd, Blackbeard, Lolonnois, and all those early pirates. On a big steamer, the pirate captain wouldn't have the same sort of chance. There's too many in a crew, for one thing. Then he'd be practically at the mercy of his engineers and engine hands. In a mutiny, he'd be up against it for fair.”

”But if a pirate captain could bluff a couple of mates and forty sailors in his crew, I don't see why he shouldn't he able to bluff a couple of engineers and fifty stokers,” suggested Eric.

”Even supposing he did,” said the other, ”suppose he had every man on board terrorized, or so heavily bribed that they would obey him to the letter, still his troubles would have hardly begun. In the old days, as long as there was food and water aboard, a sailing s.h.i.+p could cruise around for months at a time. A steamer needs coal.”

”She could take the coal from the bunkers of the s.h.i.+ps she held up,”

suggested the boy.

”It would be a good deal more of a job than you reckon,” the other answered. ”She couldn't do it at all if there was any sea running, and even on a calm day, it's a tricky proposition. If you've ever seen a man-o'-war on a sea cruise trying to coal from a naval collier, that's built just for that very purpose, you'd get an idea how hard it is.

Meantime, what would the crew and pa.s.sengers of the liner be doing?”

”Putting in coal, or getting shot down if they resisted.”

”You've a bloodthirsty turn of mind,” his friend rejoined. ”I know the idea, 'scuppers pouring blood,' and that sort of business, eh?”

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