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Wilson did not answer. He was listening for the stairs to creak, telling him that Billy had left his eaves-dropping for the security of the loft. Oh, you'd better be up, and away, lad. Jim shook his head. "Promised Billy Wilson I'd sit with him," he said. "Kin you tell me where he's goin' to sit?".

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"No," said Billy, "I got to be movin' on." "Deep?" Billy, taking his measure with one fleeting glance, stepped out from the trees. Simultaneously the strange boy rose slowly, head lowered, fists clenched. There was nothing antagonistic in Billy's attitude as he surveyed the new boy with serious grey eyes. That expression had fooled more than one competitor in fistic combat, and it fooled Jim Scroggie now. "He's scared stiff," was the new boy's thought, as he swaggered forward to where Billy stood. "I believe," said the Admiral, casting his eyes at the window, "that it blows a pretty little off-shore breeze from the north. The sea is rippled by it into a dark blue, and your ship will sail into it with almost square yards.".