“Hold hard there, my hearties!” exclaimed the man in a gruff but not unpleasant voice.  “What are you trying to cross my bows for in this fashion?  That’s no way to run, not showing a masthead light or even blowing a whistle.  Avast and belay!  You might have sunk me if I didn’t happen to be a heavier craft than you.”

As the man spoke he instinctively grasped the two boys, preventing them from continuing their flight.

“What’s the trouble?” he went on.  “I heard a female crying—­sounding a distress signal like.  Where are the burglars?  Are you going for the police?”

“No, sir.  It was us, playing tic-tac,” explained Bob, thinking it best to make a clean breast of the affair.

“Tic-tac, eh?  I haven’t heard that since I was a boy.  On whose window?”

“The Widow Mooney’s, sir.”

“And it was the widow, I presume, who was signaling for aid.  Well, I’ll stand by and see what’s wanted.  You’d better come back also.”

“Aw, we don’t want to,” spoke Ted.

“No, I suppose not.  Still you’re coming.”

The man had both boys firmly by their arms, and he turned in the gateway with them.  As he did so, Mrs. Mooney, hearing voices, ventured to open her door.  The light streamed out and showed the face of the man.  At the sight of it Bob uttered an exclamation.

“Why, it’s Captain Spark!” he cried.

“That’s what.  You read my signals right, my lad, and if I’m not mistaken, you’re Bob Henderson.”

“Yes, sir.”

Captain Jeremiah Spark was an old seafaring man.  He was a distant relative of Bob’s mother, and, in fact, he was on his way to call on her, having just returned from a long voyage, when he ran into the boys, or, rather, they collided with him.

“So you’re playing tricks on a poor, lone widow woman, are you?” asked the captain in no very pleasant tones.

“We—­we didn’t mean any harm,” said Bob.

“No, I suppose not.  Boys never do, but the harm comes.  Now I’m going to march you two lads right up before the mast; and you’re going to apologize to the widow.  If you don’t, why, I reckon a cat-o’-nine-tails will fit the case pretty well.”

Mrs. Mooney was standing in her door as the captain led the two boys up to her.

“Here’s the burglars you were shouting about, ma’am,” he said.  “One of ’em a relative of mine, I’m sorry to say.  They’ve come to beg your pardon.  Go ahead, boys.”

“I’m sorry about the tic-tac,” said Bob in a low voice.

“We didn’t mean nothin’,” added Ted.

“Was it you boys?” asked the widow.  “I was so frightened.  I thought burglars were trying to cut out a pane of glass.”

“I don’t believe they’ll do it again,” remarked Captain Spark.  “Will you, boys?”

“No, sir,” they chorused.

“That’s right.  Now come on, Bob.  I’m going to your house.”