Black Bartlemys Treasure

"The window!" he gasped. "Shutters! 'Ware bullets!" I sprang forward, but Joel was before me, and crouching beneath the open lattice swung the heavy shutters into position, but even as he did so, a bullet crashed through the stout oak.

"Doors all fast, Joel?"

"Aye, Cap'n! But who's here--is't the preventive? And me wi' the cellars choke-full. My cock! Is't the customs, Cap'n?"

"Worse, Joel!" says Penfeather, wiping sweat from him.

"Art hurt, Adam?" I questioned, eyeing his wild figure, and now I saw that the thin, steel chain was gone from his sinewy throat.

"No, shipmate. But the dagger, look ye--'tis clean disappeared, Martin."

"And good riddance," quoth I. "But, Adam--what o' your chart--gone along o' the dagger, has it?"

"Tush, man!" says he, sheathing his knife, "'Tis snug in that wallet o' yours."

"My wallet!" I cried, clapping hand on it where it hung at my girdle.

"Aye, shipmate. I slipped it there as I bid ye good-night! But, Martin--O Martin, the dead is alive again--see how I'm all gashed with his hook."

"Hook?" quoth Joel, shooting great, hairy head forward. "Did ye--say a--hook, Cap'n?"

"Aye, Joel--Tressady's alive again."

"God love us!" gasped the giant and sank into a chair.