No more of the roof, no more of the attic for me!  I was tired of being chased about like an animal in a cage,—­I was going to get down stairs and outdoors if I possibly could.  I preferred to take a chance with Mr. Snider in the open.

So I went down the ladder very cautiously and listened in the attic.  Then came the attic stairs, at the foot of which there was a door to open.  I got it open, and stepped into the passage-way.  I could hear nothing.  Mr. Snider thought I was safely locked up there on the roof.  Little by little and pausing for two or three minutes on each landing, I crept quietly down stairs.

When I reached the lower hall I was in doubt whether to go out the front or the back door.  But the back door was open, and so I chose that.  I walked quietly out, crossed the back yard, and nearly ran into Mr. Snider’s arms, as he came out of the woodshed with an ugly looking club in his hand!

He was more surprised than I, and that gave me the start I needed.  He was after me in a second, but I ran around the corner of the house and headed for the front yard.  Coming through the driveway was the Professor!  I suppose that he had just come up from his hiding-place beneath the wharf, for his arms were full of his boxes.  As soon as I saw him I turned sharply to the right, ran through the side-yard by the speakers’ stand, and climbed a rail fence on the far side of the garden.

Then I ran down a little slope toward a clump of trees.  As I did so, I looked back and saw Mr. Snider crawling through the fence.

The trees stood on a little hummock,—­there were about a dozen of them, with some undergrowth.  I ran through this, and came out on a rough ledge of rocks, which ended in a little beach.  I had come to the shore on the other side of the island.  Here was a small bay, not more than a hundred yards in width.

Sailing slowly out of this bay was a cat-boat, with a skull and cross-bones pirate-flag at the mast-head.  It was the “Hoppergrass”!

CHAPTER XI

PIRATES IN TROUBLE

“Hi!  Captain Bannister!” I shouted, “hi!”

Someone—­not the Captain, but a boy in a blue shirt—­looked up from the wheel.  Then I heard Mr. Snider come crashing and floundering through the underbrush, so I waded into the water until I was waist-deep and then struck out to swim.  Before I had made a dozen strokes Mr. Snider emerged, and ran down to the water’s edge.

But I had no idea he would follow me now.  He didn’t look like a person who could swim,—­nor even like one who enjoyed cold water much.  I glanced back at him over my shoulder,—­he was simply standing there, gazing after me, and rubbing his hands together excitedly, clasping and unclasping them.

“Captain Bannister!” I called out again, “the Hoppergrass!  Wait!”

The boy who was steering put the helm over a trifle, altering the course of the boat a little more in my direction.  Another boy came up from below, and stood there staring at me.  In three minutes I was alongside, and reaching out for the tender.