When this had been ascertained, and the schooner’s crew safely locked up, Mr. Lockyer hastened to a telegraph office, where he sent the following message:
“Mr. Peregrine Pangloss,
No. 14 West Seventy-second Street,
New York.
“Have recovered all your stolen furniture with the aid of the Lockyer. Does this go some way toward proving her usefulness?
“Channing Lockyer.”
“But the mystery of those weapons has not yet been explained,” remarked Lieutenant Parry, as they sat in the cabin on their homeward voyage, discussing the exciting incident of the evening.
To his surprise, Midshipman Stark broke into a laugh, and the buoyant Tom Marlin could not keep from smiling. Ned fumbled in his pocket for a minute, and then produced a brass tap of the ordinary faucet type.
“Here’s one of them, sir,” he explained, “and the rest were like them.”
“That’s right, Mr. Parry,” chuckled the midshipman; “and it was all Strong’s idea. When we became separated from you, we recollected we had no weapons. Strong here had gone below on a search for some. He didn’t find any, but in the engine room his eye lit on one of those taps. It struck him at once that, held in the hand, they would resemble a pistol, if one didn’t look too close. Out of the storeroom he got enough to arm us all, and that they were very effective, you must admit.”
When the laughter over this explanation of the “armed-to-the-teeth” appearance of the boarding party had subsided, Mr. Lockyer spoke.