THERE were pirate craft quartering the Caribbean Sea from the Island of Trinidad to Havana, and from Nassau to the Bay of Honduras. They sailed up and down the Gulf of Florida, and they hung about the Bahama Bank and the Yucatan and Windward Channels. Many a trader from the American coast fell into their hands, to be burned or sunk and the crew sadly misused, and the dread of the black flag lay heavy on the sailor's mind.

      Of all the men who, trusting in luck, went from the port of Salem to the Florida Cape, Noah Hutchins was perhaps the most notable. In his old butter-box of a brig, the Lucky Sally, he sailed out of Salem for the West Indies as calmly and serenely as he started off for Sunday meeting when ashore. On one occasion he would have been captured by a rover but for the advent of a sudden squall; on another the Lucky Sally owed her escape to a fog and brought home three solid shot fired into her hull; again a "long, low, rakish craft, "flying the Jolly Roger, had come within range of her and was about to open fire when an English man-of-war hove in sight and sent the red rover scurrying.

      These escapes simply confirmed Captain Noah Hutchins in his first belief in the luck of the Lucky Sally. On the day the brig was launched he had found a Continental dollar in the road, and after he had moistened it with his tongue and had boxed the compass backward he had met a white horse and a one-horned cow. Even pirates couldn't beat Now and then as he made such luck as that. ready for a voyage some of the townspeople would say to him:

      "Captain Noah, don't depend too much upon Providence. You can't expect to always escape the pirates, even with the Lord on your side."

      "Mebbe not," he would reply; "but if me and the Sally and Providence can't squeeze through, then my gravestun is all ready, 'ceptin' the date."

      Captain Noah had been a widower for many years. For many years also he had had an eye on the "Widder" Skinner; when he got through taking out machinery and calicoes and bringing back rum and molasses he would ask her to jine with him. It was an understood thing between them. Each time that he sailed away the widow admonished him to look out for black flags, and each time he returned home she thanked Heaven for his escape.

      As time went on he came to his last voyage. The pirates were still doing a brisk business at the old stand, but the luck of the Lucky Sally would take her through, and then he'd settle down and have a home for the remainder of his days. On the night before the brig was to sail Captain Noah went up as usual to call on the widow.

      "Nancy, I shall be back in about a month," he said as he sat poking the fire and eating an apple, "and then I'll be around to milk the cow, feed the hogs and wind the clock."

      "Well, I shall be kind o' glad on it," she replied without a blush. "I do confess that it's sort o' handy to have a man around. By the way, Noah, did I tell you that the cow had lost her cud?"

      "N-o-o-a! You don't say so!"

      "Yes, she has. Hasn't been herself for the last two weeks. When a cow loses her cud you can look for most anything to happen."

      "What d'ye 'spose made her lose it?" asked the Captain after a solemn silence.

      "Dunno, unless she got to pining."

      "Pining for what?"

      "For a change of scenery, mebbe. I've been thinking. This is to be your last voyage, and the cow has lost her cud. Being as this is your last voyage I want you to be comfortabler than usual. Being as the cow is pining, s'posen you take her along and give her a change of scenery? Both of you'll be the better for it."

      "She'd be in the way," replied the Captain slowly, "but at the same time there's the milk. Then she'd sort o' remind me of you. If change of scenery will brighten her up, I'll fetch her back with her tail in the air."

      It happened, therefore, that when the Lucky Sally spread her wings next morning and sailed out of Salem at her usual lively speed of six miles an hour, the widow's cow was on board.

      "Don't let her get hold of any onion-tops to taint her milk, and look out for pirates, called the Widow Skinner as the brig cast off.

      "I'll remember, and don't you fall down cellar nor git drowned in the cistern," replied the Captain, and so they parted.

      It is due to the pirates of that day, who are no longer on hand to protect their reputations, to say that they kept a bright lookout for Captain Noah Hutchins and his butter-box, and it wasn't their fault that the Lucky Sally squeaked through for the dozenth time and brought up in the port of San Domingo. It is also due to the record of the cow, who didn't outlive the pirates many years, to say she did her best to make Captain Noah "comfortabler."

      Nothing happened for any one to fall over until the brig was headed for home and was trying to bound over the bounding billows to the westward of Caicos Bank. The sun had just climbed out of his bed when a sail was reported coming up astern. The mate and the crew almost at once declared her to be a pirate, but Captain Noah was in no hurry about it. He ate his breakfast and smoked his pipe, and then took a long squint at the stranger through his glass. Her black flag had been thrown to the breeze and was visible to the naked eye before the Captain carefully put away his glass and calmly observed:

      "Wall, now, but that's a pirate, sure 'nuff, and I shouldn't wonder if he was after us."

      There was considerable trepidation among the crew, but Captain Noah showed no evidence of being upset. There was neither squall nor fog-bank nor man-of-war in sight, but he'd continue to trust to luck. About all he did in the way of preparation was to advise his men not to "jaw back or make up faces" in case they were boarded by the pirate.

      The Lucky Sally cut along at her best pace, but two hours after the strange sail had been raised the rover craft was alongside. Luck had finally deserted the brig. As no resistance was made when a score of cut-throats scrambled over the rail, no one was shot or cut down. Captain Noah didn't get flustrated. He looked the situation over and then explained to the pirate leader:

      "Wall, Captain, she's loaded with rum and sugar and won't make you rich, but we've got to take luck as it comes. I did hope to dodge ye jest this once more, but being as I couldn't, I must make the best of it. What ye going to do with her?"

      By the usual rules and regulations governing the pirate business, Captain Noah and his crew ought to have been made to walk the plank and the brig sent to the bottom after them, but all rules and regulations have exceptions. There was no dearth of rum and sugar in the black flag market, but such a cargo always came in handy. A trader's crew couldn't reasonably expect mercy from pirates, especially when they hadn't a dollar to give up, but the rovers reasoned it out that it would save their own muscle to let the crew of the Lucky Sally work her up to Acklin Island, which was then a rendezvous, and break out the cargo. When they had served their turn they could be shot, hung or drowned, according to convenience.

      A crew of six fantastically dressed and serious-looking rovers were left on board as a prize crew, and the pirate craft took herself off in search of a richer prize. The brig's crew numbered seven, counting the cook, but as jack-knives were their only weapons the pirates had no cause to fear a revolt. They had arms in plenty, and they also realized the moral effect upon the peaceful traders of their profession and presence. They took possession of the cabin and the Captain's big jug of Santa Cruz extra, and though they drank and gambled and cursed and sang, they offered no violence to the helpless prisoners.

      If the wind hadn't chopped around and piped up and tried to blow the Lucky Sally's teeth down her throat she might have fetched Acklin Island within twenty-four hours, but as it was, instead of going ahead she was beaten back. It was all the same, however. The pirates were having a good time of it and were in no hurry to get anywhere, and Captain Noah looked to windward and to leeward, and figured it out that the longer he was afloat the more show there was for luck to come back to him.

      I have treated the widow's cow as a cipher while relating the story of attack and capture. But for sight of the pirate sail she would have been milked at the usual hour in the morning. The chase and capture put her out of the thoughts of captain, mate and cook, and up to five o'clock in the afternoon she had neither been milked, watered nor fed. At that hour, when the pirates had ceased their roystering for a time to let their heads clear, and were assembled on deck, one of them suddenly espied the cow and cried out that he was both a farmer and a pirate bold. He would milk her, and there should be milk-punch for night-caps.

      Pail and stool were fetched, and, amidst much hilarity on the part of his companions, the cut-throat set out to play the part of a dairy-maid. The widow's cow was hungry and thirsty and suffering from want of milking, and, though not an excitable cow, the presence of the pirates had affected her somewhat. She had become nervous and irritable, and finally had a longing to break loose and battle for her bovine rights. She was in this mood when one of the black flags untied her and led her out upon the deck, and the man with the pail sat down to his task. The first move was a kick which rolled the milker on his back and confused his piratical ideas for full five minutes. The second was a charge which lifted the man at the end of the rope off his feet and let him. fall with a crash. Then, as the four other pirates cried out and started back the cow pursued them. Two of them were picked up on her horns before they could escape, while the other two sprang into the rigging.

      Then it was that Captain Noah Hutchins saw luck coming aboard and reached out to give her a helping hand. In two minutes they had four of the pirates fast bound, and the brig was their own again. The cow kept charging about for the next ten minutes, not discriminating between pirate and honest sailor, while the two rovers in the rigging swore they would never be taken alive.

      All things come to an end, however, and in due time the cow was secured and the pirates were tied hand and heel. The milking had hardly been finished when the wind hauled four points to the west, the yards of the Lucky Sally were braced to the change and she went squattering away up the Channel with all the dignity of a man-of-war. But Captain Noah was not unduly hilarious.

      "Yes, it did look a leetle bit rusty an hour ago," he admitted to his mate, "but no man ever ought to lay down till his time comes. It kind o' seemed to me right along that with that cow aboard and the Widder waiting for me at home we might squeak through."

      Next day the Lucky Sally was spoken by an American man-of-war and the pirates were turned over to her, and the Widow's cow received so much admiration and so many compliments that she almost lost her cud again while drinking in the praise.

      There were other rovers afloat, and there were squalls and fogs and head winds to be encountered, but one fair day the Lucky Sally sailed into the port of Salem with flags flying, everybody whistling and the cook beating on a tin pan. The story of the cow, the capture and the escape was known all over town almost before the brig had been made fast to the wharf, and everybody turned out to swing his hat and huzza and assist in a triumphal march to the Widow Skinner's. Captain Noah led the cow with one hand and waved the American flag with the other. The cow was chewing her cud, and her tail stood up, just as he had promised.

      "Wall, Noah, I was 'specting ye back," said the Widow as she appeared at the door. "So the cow has got over pining?"

      "I'm a-believing she has, Nancy, and I've got the all-firedest pirate story to tell ye ever heard of. That critter saved the Lucky Sally and all the rest of us."

      "Shoo! Didn't I say that losing her cud and your last voyage had a bearing on each other? Wall, turn her into the barnyard and then scrape the mud off yer boots and come in and tell me all about it."

      "And we are to be jined in marriage in two weeks," said the Captain as he led the cow away.

      "La me, but what a man! If you say so I s'pose it's got to be, even if I have to put off making soft-soap and dyeing carpet-rags."

Two were picked up on her horns before they could escape