But now a more terrible danger threatened. For the rascals on shore had seized long poles and were reaching out over the water, trying to smash holes in the ship, to stove in its hull.
"They're grapplin' irons and marlin spikes," explained the Captain, "and very terrible weapons." He must have been right, for he knew the ways of the sea.
Meantime the ship was beginning to rock. The crew looked around for rescue, but none was in sight.
"We'll sink your ole ship," shouted Pirate Fatty. "You're awful sailors."
And all the time, up and down, and down and up, went the poor little ship. Would they drown? Far off, Dick Deadeye saw the Toyman running, running as fast as he could towards shore. And Rover, too. He was barking for all he was worth, seeming to think it fun. But Rover was only a dog, and couldn't realize the danger at all.
At last the big fat pirate's pole hit the ship a terrible crack, and overboard Slave Hepzebiah fell.
Dick Deadeye reached for her, but his hand only touched her uniform, and over he fell, too, down in the coffee-colored waves.
It was way over his head. Down, down, he sank. He was terribly frightened, with water all around him and in his eyes and his nose and mouth. He was choking, but all he thought of, even then, was his little sister, the poor slave.
The first thing he knew, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder and heard the Toyman's voice saying,--
"Hold on, Sonny, you're all right--just grab on to me."