Now was the time!  Bub crept back and went on sawing.  Now two parts were severed.  Now three.  But one remained.  The tension upon this was so great that it readily yielded.  Splash the freed end went overboard.  He lay quietly, his heart in his mouth, listening.  No one on the cruiser but himself had heard.

He saw the red and green lights of the Mary Thomas grow dimmer and dimmer.  Then a faint hallo came over the water from the Russian prize crew.  Still nobody heard.  The smoke continued to pour out of the cruiser’s funnels, and her propellers throbbed as mightily as ever.

What was happening on the Mary Thomas?  Bub could only surmise; but of one thing he was certain:  his comrades would assert themselves and overpower the four sailors and the midshipman.  A few minutes later he saw a small flash, and straining his ears heard the very faint report of a pistol.  Then, oh joy! both the red and green lights suddenly disappeared.  The Mary Thomas was retaken!

Just as an officer came aft, Bub crept forward, and hid away in one of the boats.  Not an instant too soon.  The alarm was given.  Loud voices rose in command.  The cruiser altered her course.  An electric search-light began to throw its white rays across the sea, here, there, everywhere; but in its flashing path no tossing schooner was revealed.

Bub went to sleep soon after that, nor did he wake till the gray of dawn.  The engines were pulsing monotonously, and the water, splashing noisily, told him the decks were being washed down.  One sweeping glance, and he saw that they were alone on the expanse of ocean.  The Mary Thomas had escaped.  As he lifted his head, a roar of laughter went up from the sailors.  Even the officer, who ordered him taken below and locked up, could not quite conceal the laughter in his eyes.  Bub thought often in the days of confinement which followed that they were not very angry with him for what he had done.

He was not far from right.  There is a certain innate nobility deep down in the hearts of all men, which forces them to admire a brave act, even if it is performed by an enemy.  The Russians were in nowise different from other men.  True, a boy had outwitted them; but they could not blame him, and they were sore puzzled as to what to do with him.  It would never do to take a little mite like him in to represent all that remained of the lost poacher.

So, two weeks later, a United States man-of-war, steaming out of the Russian port of Vladivostok, was signaled by a Russian cruiser.  A boat passed between the two ships, and a small boy dropped over the rail upon the deck of the American vessel.  A week later he was put ashore at Hakodate, and after some telegraphing, his fare was paid on the railroad to Yokohama.

From the depot he hurried through the quaint Japanese streets to the harbor, and hired a sampan boatman to put him aboard a certain vessel whose familiar rigging had quickly caught his eye.  Her gaskets were off, her sails unfurled; she was just starting back to the United States.  As he came closer, a crowd of sailors sprang upon the forecastle head, and the windlass-bars rose and fell as the anchor was torn from its muddy bottom.