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The boys approached the building slowly and as they neared its sombre portals silence fell upon them. They opened the creaking gate and entered the building much after the manner of heroes who must stand blindfolded against a wall and wait the word "Fire!" They had to go through with it, that was all. "Well?" Caleb asked finally. "What about it?" She looked up quickly. "And may I ask who that is?".
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
"Yep. They're in a can in my pocket. Did Croaker come back?" he inquired, as the two made their way down the path. They were sailing in bright latitudes where the weather is warm, where often the sea rolls in a languid silken swell like the gentle heavings of a carpet of the sheen of satin under-blown, where the stars shine with brilliance and the moon at her full has an almost sun-like power. And very fortunately the two ships were favoured with fine and sparkling days vital with favourable winds. Throughout the daylight hours the two ships held each other steadily in view, the schooner under slightly reduced canvas, and the frigate under a press, and at night each signalled her place by rockets discharged at intervals, so that always when day broke the brace of pursuing structures were found to be either abreast, or almost so, each sunk from the sight of the other to the line of her bulwarks. "You bet. The wind's south. Have you got the worms dug?" A slim girl in a gingham dress stood in front of the counter placing parcels in a basket. She turned a flushed face, lit with brown roguish eyes, on Caleb, as he came in..
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