He held up a bust, that even in the starlight, could be seen to be intended for a counterfeit presentment of the “Apostle of Peace,” whiskers and all.
“Ho, ho, ho!” exclaimed the officer, bursting into a laugh, in which Mr. Lockyer and the rest presently joined; “yes, that is Mr. Pangloss, beyond a doubt. Now, my men,” he said, with a change of manner, switching round on the two bound men, “what have you got to say now?”
“Ain’t got nuffin ter say,” growled the gray-bearded man sullenly.
“Then I have. Listen. This property is stolen, beyond a doubt. In fact, in my own mind, I have little doubt that you are the notorious band of Sound Pirates, known as the ‘Fly By Nights.’ I’m going to head for the nearest town on the mainland and give you over to the police.”
“Say, who in blazes are you, anyhow?” asked the gray-bearded man without a quiver in his voice, but with much frank curiosity. “I’d like to know.”
“Then, if it will make you tell the truth, I will tell you. We are preservers of law and order wherever infractions of the same occur—and I guess that describes the United States Navy pretty accurately,” he whispered, turning to Mr. Lockyer, who nodded.
“Kind of police, eh?”
“Yes. I guess you might call us that,” answered Mr. Parry.
“Wall,” grunted the gray-bearded man, with great deliberation, “you ain’t goin’ ter get nawthin’ out o’ me.”
After a brief consultation it was decided to make for Bridgeport and give the fellows from the schooner into custody there. With Mr. Lockyer at the wheel, and the others remaining on board the schooner as a sort of prize crew, the run into the Connecticut city was made in little more than an hour and a half. As Lieutenant Parry had surmised, the piratical ship’s company were proved to be the notorious “Fly By Nights,” and when the furniture was examined with care, it was found to be indisputably loot from Mr. Pangloss’s home.