"
"See here, Ballard, it won't do for you to quarrel with me!"
"I don't care who I quarrel with!"
Burton advanced and whispered:
"I might come 'Quaker' on you, and give you a bad name."
"You can do just as you choose. I am not asking odds of you."
"I've my suspicions of you, Ballard."
Burton spoke in a hoarse whisper; the man was excited and
trembling with rage and irritation.
It is possible a tragic denouement might have followed the
dialogue, had there not come just at that moment a startling
interruption to the impending quarrel.
Again there came the signal cry: "Lights ahead!" and all hands
ran eagerly to the rail to study the character of the distant
craft.
All was silent watchfulness and expectancy as the two boats
approached nearer and nearer across the dark waters. Suddenly
there shot up high into the air a rocket and when far toward
the clouds, a "bomb burst in air," and there followed a shower
of many colored lights.
At once there was great excitement on board the "Nancy." Sol
Burton had not stopped to finish his threatening talk with our
hero, but all was bustle and excitement and work.
The boats were prepared for launching, and the ship's course
was changed, and our hero knew that the, long-expected
smuggler had arrived.
Soon the two vessels approached each other; additional signals
were exchanged, and the real purpose of the voyage was
unfolded.
The smuggler kept upon her course, under close reefed sails,
but her crew was busy casting certain curious looking packages
into the sea.
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