Do you remember that yarn about Kydd, where he rigged painted canvas about his ship and hid all the ports, 'Stump'?
It was great.

The whole piratical crew, with the exception of a dozen men, kept below, and when a poor unfortunate ship came along, the bloodthirsty villains captured her." "I wish they had caught you at the same time," retorted "Stump." "Then we wouldn't be bothered with your infernal cackle.

Here, give me a hand with this mess chest." By this time the task of preparing for action was an old story, and we made short work of it.

The call to "general quarters" followed without delay, and, as we prepared the battery for action, word came from above that a large gunboat, showing Spanish colors, was leaving the harbor in our direction.
"Which means a scrap of the liveliest description," muttered Tommy.
"They evidently take us for a trader without guns, and they'll attack us sure." Boom! A six-pounder gave voice from the spar deck, instantly followed by a five-inch breechloader in the waist.

Number Eight was loaded, and "Hay," who held the firing lanyard, snatched another sight, then stood erect with left hand in the air.
"Ready, sir," he called out to the officer of the division.
"Fire!" came the reply promptly.
With the word a vicious report shook the deck, and the gun muzzle vanished in a cloud of smoke.