AN UNWILLING CREW. 85

pins, heavy pots and pans, spare blocks, and even his
precious carving-knives upon the heads of the men, and
more than one of. the frail craft went to the bottom under
this miscellaneous assortment of ammunition.

How long this engagement lasted Ben had no idea, and
even Miss Dunham would be unable to state with any
degree of accuracy.

The defenders of the brig were working so desperately
and rapidly as to take no heed of the passage of time, but
probably the hot fight did not last more than a quarter of
an hour, yet in these few moments the wind had increased
until the brig was showing quite a “bone in her teeth,”
as she slipped through the water more rapidly than the
disheartened Chinamen could paddle their sampans.

The victory was complete, and when Ben, his face
begrimed with powder and streaked with perspiration,
came aft to fire a few parting shots at the last of the
retreating enemy, Miss Dunham seized his hand regardless
of her duties at the helm, as she said, earnestly :

“Forgive me for having thought even for a moment
that you were too young and inexperienced to extricate
us from the position in which we were left when the crew
abandoned the brig. I was thoroughly opposed to your
calling upon the prisoners for assistance, and yet if that
hadn’t been done we should now either be captives or
dead.”

“You don’t want to say anything about my forgiving
you,” Ben replied, heartily, “for you could not be expected
to have as much faith in meas you would in an older man,