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Updated: June 25, 2025
Why, to give the lubbers one more kick!" Yo ho, with the rum below. Thus rang the voice, and there ambled into view Joe Punchard, perched upon a mule, and on mules behind him two negroes, their countenances shining, their teeth flashing, with a happy smile. "Joe!" I cried, in defiance of all caution. "Ahoy ho!" he cried in return, pulling up his mule. "Who be that a-calling of Joe?"
And I warrant you, if he have the right stuff in him, that by the time the schoolmaster has done with him he shall be able to hold his own against any man, and will need no succors from Joe Punchard or anyone else."
About the end of the second dog watch I lowered a boat, and with Joe Punchard and half a dozen picked men, together with the sailor we had rescued, set off with muffled oars up the cove to reconnoiter, leaving Fincham in charge of the brig. The moon was rising, but there was a deep shadow beneath the cliffs, and by keeping well within this I trusted to escape observation.
In my mind's eye I saw a big hollow vessel shaped like a bass viol floating on the water of the moat, and Joe Punchard clinging to it, and I wished with all my heart that one of our jailers would discover such an instrument, and hand it to us for the use of our band. 'Twas but a step from wishing to devising. We had no bass viol; could we not make one?
We had no time for saddling up; throwing ourselves on the horses' bare backs, we set off with Punchard and Uncle Moses along the road, urging the beasts to a pace which I feared they could not long keep up. As we drew near to the place of our ambush I remembered the overseers we had left tied up there in the wood, and their horses which we had tethered.
"There is old John Dilly," I said one day, when we were discussing the subject, "he was good to me aboard the Dolphin; I shouldn't like to leave him behind." "True," says Punchard, "and Runnles is a quiet, good soul; besides his name is Joe." "And the bosun, he's as strong as an ox, and might be a useful man."
"Ah! there they be," he added, as my pursuers appeared in the doorway. "Good afternoon to you, and what might you be pleased to want?" "Out of the road, Joe Punchard!" cries Cludde, walking into the shop. "I'll teach that little beast to run away." And he came forward to where I stood, sheltering myself behind Joe's thick-set body. "Bide a minute," says Joe, lurching so as to shield me.
Had it been straight, the bias of the barrel would doubtless have soon carried it to the side, and Joe Punchard might have risen in course of time to the status of a master cooper in his native town. But when I went to the door to see what was happening, there was the barrel in full career, following the curve of the street, and gathering speed with every yard.
I bade Punchard collect our men in readiness to march back to the brig, and strictly charged him that he should have every care of Vetch on the way. Then I saw a shadow of fear cross the villain's face. He knew that to brazen it out longer would avail him nothing, and 'twas his inward vision of the hangman, I doubt not, that caused him to go white to the lips.
"You speak in riddles, Captain," says my father at last; "and why are you eying Humphrey in that quizzical way?" "Why, bless my soul, don't you know? I thought it had been half over the county by this." "I know that that 'prentice lad Punchard hath half-killed young Vetch, and richly deserves what he will no doubt get tomorrow." "And is that all? Have you told only half your story, Humphrey?"
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