"Get back there, an' be lively 'bout it," Tom cried, "else you'll stand a chance of havin' your head broke! There won't be any funny business on this 'ere island to-night, 'less somebody gets hurt pretty bad!"
"Who's that?" Captain Doak asked in a rage, stepping back in order that he might have a view of the top of the cliff, and at the same instant a missile, smaller than the first, grazed his arm, causing him to leap aside very suddenly.
"Get back where you belong, 'less you wanter be knocked out of time!" Tom shouted, and, sheltering himself as much as possible behind a projecting portion of the cliff, the commander of the "Sally D." cried in a voice hoarse with rage:
"I'll flog you within an inch of your life, you miserable shirker. Come down here, Sam, or I'll mark you with a rope's end as you've never been marked before!"
"I reckon you won't do much floggin' or markin' yet a while," Tom replied stoutly, standing with a missile in either hand, ready to fire a shot whenever Captain Doak was so incautious as to give him an opportunity. "Go aboard your schooner, 'less you're achin' to be 'bout the same as killed, for if we get a fair whack at your precious body it ain't likely you'll be very spry for some time to come!"
"Rube! Rube Rowe! Get around on the top of the cliff an' pitch them cubs down!"
"Do it yourself, if it's got to be done. I didn't ship with you for a pirate!" was the reply from the beach, and Tom added mockingly:
"I reckon you'll have to tackle the job yourself, cap'en, an' if you don't get all that's comin' to you before it's over, I'm way off my base. We've got plenty of rocks handy."
While one might have counted twenty, Captain Doak remained silent and motionless, and then a tiny spark of light could be seen near where he crouched, which caused Tom to whisper:
"He's settin' fire to the rubbish, hopin' the flames will creep over to the shanty, an' perhaps they may, for the wind is settin' this way. If we'd only thought to bring up a bucket of water, it would be easy to put an end to his fun!"