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Updated: May 23, 2025
With nothing to do but discuss the situation from every slant and angle of conjecture, it was Joe Hawkridge's theory that Stede Bonnet would not rest content with regaining the Revenge but would come out to attack the brig as soon as the wind favored. His hatred of Blackbeard was one motive but there was a point of honor even more compelling.
But the men were lacking for this heavy task, and the sailors of the Plymouth Adventure were too intent on fighting against fearful odds to pay heed to Joe Hawkridge's appeals. He had even skulked into the galley and was ready with a little iron pot filled with live coals which was hidden under a bit of tarpaulin. Ned Rackham was a young man and powerful, with a long reach and a skilled blade.
The disconsolate carpenter's mate returned to his fellow pirates and bade them go off to the snow. First, however, he extracted from every man the solemn promise that he would not divulge the secret of Joe Hawkridge's presence nor reveal the fact that he had remained behind. They were eager to promise anything. Several of them stole over to tell him furtive farewells.
Whitney, who, with Jennie, had descended the stairs and stood with the group near the front door. "No," was Hawkridge's reassuring reply; "he must see the uselessness of resistance, and we are not fighting Indians who learned warfare from the late lamented Sitting Bull." It was noticed that Fred Whitney, despite the wound of a couple of days before, no longer wore his arm in a sling.
"I wonder if we are on the right track, Queenie?" he said, addressing his animal, as was his custom when they were alone. "It would be strange if we didn't drift away from our bearings. Hello! that can't be Dick Hawkridge's ranch; we haven't gone far enough for that; but what the mischief can it be, unless a fire that some one has started in the open?"
"That sounds familiar enough to me," was Joe Hawkridge's comment. "And the rest of his writing will be much like it." "Not so fast," exclaimed Captain Wellsby. "Scan the next page, Jack. 'Twill fetch you up all standing. Not that it puts gold in our pockets, for we know not where to search, but I swear it will make your eyes sparkle and your mouth water."
He tarried a moment to wring Joe Hawkridge's hand in farewell and to tell him: "If I have ill luck in this adventure, old comrade, do you mind presenting my best compliments, and and a fond farewell to Mistress Dorothy Stuart?" "Strike me, Jack, stow that or you'll have me blubberin'," said Joe.
It flashed into Joe Hawkridge's mind that all the men of the watch might be chased below, the hatches clapped on them, and the mastery of the brig secured. Blackbeard was absent for reasons best known to himself and his pirates lacked leadership. A brace of ghosts could put them to panic rout. And, no doubt, that wailing message of dead Jesse Strawn had carried like the cry of a banshee.
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