For a few moments they were in an excitement of alarm, not knowing whether these were friends or foes. Soon Allen, who had been watching through a glass, lowered it, and, waving his cocked hat above his head, shouted:
“Hurrah, boys, it’s our friends with the British sloop. Give her three cheers.”
While the last lusty cheer was scarcely uttered, an answering salute from the cannon of the sloop and schooner was thundered forth.
“Give ’em powder for powder, boys. Fire,” Allen shouted, and a rattling volley of muskets, rifles, and long smoothbores reawakened the echoes.
The crew of the batteau was then transferred to the schooner and her prize—the same armed sloop Nathan so well remembered seeing when she brought supplies to the Fort he had just borne a part in surprising. While amid loud rejoicings the story of her bloodless capture was told, they went merrily bowling homeward with the clumsy batteau surging along in tow at such speed as she had never known before.
[CHAPTER XVII—HOME COMING]
As the sloop swept past the massive battlements of Crown Point where they guard the narrowing channel of the lake, Job said to his young comrade:
“We’re getting towards home.”
“Yes, I’ve been thinking of home and mother and sis. Guess I needn’t be afraid of ol’ Toombs any longer, but I don’t know as I could keep my hands off’n him. I always meant to give him a thrashing when I could.”
“Mebby you could, now, but he’s a cordy critter and a soople one; but mind what I tell you, you never will.”