“I find, sir, that yonder ship is not an American privateer, but an English merchantman from London to Halifax, where she changed captains and then sailed for New York. She has a cargo of muskets, pistols, ammunition, and army supplies inventoried at fifteen thousand pounds sterling.”
As he closed his report the English captain laughed.
“I admit it, Captain Tucker. I knew you were cruising off our coast, and prepared those privateer papers to outwit you, and succeeded twice. I could hardly expect to do it a third time. I congratulate you, sir, on taking the finest prize that is likely to be on these seas this season.”
“I can afford to be as magnanimous, and confess that you are the smartest Englishman I ever met,” our commander responded.
“I told you at our last interview that it took a smart man to outwit you,” the Britisher retorted, “but I don’t feel as smart as I did then.”
A hearty laugh followed and the rival captains shook hands. Then a large prize crew was put on board the Peggy, and, under the escort of the Hancock, for she was too great a treasure to send into port alone, she sailed for Lynn.
In a week we were at sea again, and a rich series of captures followed. Between that time and the next spring we took forty vessels, many of them with valuable cargoes.
Then came a prize, the thought of which makes my blood tingle even to this day. We had been into Salem with prizes. Soon after getting out to sea we caught sight of a distant sail. On approaching her we discovered by her tier of guns that she was an English frigate—much larger than the Hancock. Undismayed, Captain Tucker turned to his executive officer, saying:
“Crowd on all sail, Lieutenant Stiles. The sooner we can close in with that fellow the better.”
When this command had been obeyed, he continued: