"Don't you try that again, there, or we'll give you a broadside! Do you hear?" shouted Frank, as he and his chums lifted their array of weapons so that the men could easily see what they were up against.
The sharpie kept pushing on until close by. Then a sudden shifting of the rudder caused the boat with the tall masts to "come to" in the wind, with her dingy sails shivering as they hung there lifeless.
"We want that kid!" called a tall, gaunt man with a red beard.
"That's Uncle Ben!" exclaimed Joe, who was peeping over the gunwale.
"Well, you'll have to take it out in wanting, then, because you're not going to get him. Joe says you beat him. He prefers to stay with us, and we're going to take him home to his mother in Cedar Keys. Get that?" called Frank.
The three men conferred together for a minute or two.
"Say! my breakfast's getting cold! I wish they'd hurry," remarked Bluff.
Will was getting busy himself. The old familiar click announced that he had secured a picture of the three spongers at a time when they stood out plainly.
"Hey, you fellers! What yuh mean a-comin' an' stealin' my nephew out o' my boat? He signed for the cruise, he did. It's ag'in the law, what yuh did, an' yer liable ter git yerselves in trouble," the red-bearded man now called.
"We can stand it if you can. The marks on this boy will settle your case for you. Better go on about your business. We don't want any fight, but just make up your minds that if you start it we're going to shoot holes through every one of your crowd. That's enough talk. Now, twenty-three for yours!"