"So the United States wouldn't agree to no such bargain," exclaimed Mr. Beardsley, with something like a sigh of relief. "Then Uncle Sam can't find fault with us for going into the business, can he?"
"He'll make prisoners of you and destroy or confiscate your vessel, if he can catch you," replied Marcy.
"Of course. That's to be expected; but he'll have to catch us first, and even then he won't treat us like we was pirates. That's what I want to know."
"Why do you ask? Are you interested in the matter?"
"Somewhat," answered the man, with a laugh. "My schooner is fixed over and fitted with bunks for twenty men and three officers, and I've bargained for two howitzers in Newborn. That's what I meant when I said that one man's pizen is another man's meat. Now is the time to slip out to sea and make a prize or two before that blockade comes and stops the business."
Marcy was astonished and so was his mother; and neither of them could imagine why Mr. Beardsley had taken the pains to come to the house and tell them all this.
"Make hay while the sun shines, eh?" said he, with a chuckle. "I aint got my commission yet, and can't get it till my bond for five thousand dollars, which I give to the collector at Wilmington to send to the Secretary of State, has been approved. I've got to promise to obey the laws, you know, and that's easy."
"What do you intend to do with your prizes, if you make any?" inquired
Mrs. Gray.
"Take 'em into Newbern and have 'em appraised and sold by a competent tribunal, whatever that means. I heard while I was in Newbern that there aint no admiralty court in this country like there is in England, and that the district court would most likely 'tend to the matter. As owner of the schooner I will, of course, get the lion's share of the money, and the rest will be divided up among the officers and crew. But I'll do the fair thing by you, Marcy."
"By me!" exclaimed the boy.