"Help! Help!"
The cry came from forward.
"It's Joe's voice!" shouted Nat. "He's in trouble."
Seizing up his pistol which he had laid down, Captain Akers was after the boy, who had hastened forward in two bounds.
Joe met them, bouncing out of the fog, with a white face.
"Nat! Nat!" he cried in a scared voice. "He's at it again!"
"Who?" exclaimed Nat.
"What?" demanded the captain, his whiskers bristling angrily.
"Why, that sailor, or ghost, or whatever it is, that Nat saw. I had just peeled my potatoes and set them in a pan near the window and turned my back for an instant when he, or it, or that, showed up. I had hardly turned before I heard a slight noise behind me. I switched round and saw a big arm reaching through that window.
"Evidently its object was to steal some potatoes. I shouted, but, instead of running away, the fellow grabbed up the whole pan and threw it at me. I was too mad to be scared and ran outside to grab him and ask him what he meant by such conduct. But when I got there the rascal had gone."