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"Yep, that's him. Now," he cried tossing Croaker into a tree, "I'll tell you what we gotta do. We gotta move these pets down to that old sugar-shanty in our woods. Ma's got so nervous with havin' 'em here that I'm afraid Anse might take it in his head to let 'em out, er kill 'em. I've got 'em all boxed nice an' snug. All I want you to do is help me carry 'em. We can do it in two trips. Ringdo, of course, 'll stay along up here. Ma's not scared of him like she is of the other things. Come along." "Is it re'lly?" she returned with sarcasm. "I wasn't sure. I thort maybe it was a fish-line, or a jack-knife. Now what do you think of your precious son?" she demanded. Aloud he urged: "Come on, Anse. Get Out an' pile into my bed. I ain't scared to sleep in yours, not a bit. Besides," he added, "it'll save you a canin' from Ma.".
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Maurice dropped like a squirrel from the poplar. "An' leave them boat thieves stranded?" he panted. "Oh gosh! but won't that serve 'em right!" He placed his hand on Billy's shoulder, and turned once again toward the bay. "I am blind," he said, softly, "but I can tell you how it looks across yonder. There's a white splash of water between deep shadows, and there's just a faint tinge of crimson above the tree-tops. The mist is rising off the marsh; the fire-flies are playing cross-tag above the cat-tails. The light-house—" "No, sir, no!" cried the Admiral in a deep, trembling voice. "Well, maybe that ain't stealin' it, but if it ain't what would you call it, Willium?".
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