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Billy nodded. "Me an' Jim Scroggie bought him from Mr. Johnston, an' we got a receipt provin' our ownership, too, you bet. This is how we did it. 'Long 'bout the second er third day after ol' Thomas disappeared me an' Jim met up with Johnston walkin' home from school to Fairfield where he boards. Jim had fifty dollars, all his own, an' we'd planned jest what we'd say to the teacher. He glanced at her closely, struck by the odd note in her voice. "He seems a manly little chap," he said. "I must get to know him better." "He's gone," Maurice answered his chum's look. "Took to his heels when the lightnin' struck that elm. The shock knocked us both down. He was gone when I come to.".
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By the time the sun had fallen behind the far rim of forest he was quite content with his evening's bag, which consisted of five blacks, a pair of greys, two blue winged teal, a pintail and a pair of green headed mallards. Yet Captain Acton appeared to find in Mr Lawrence this evening a quality of bearing, a character of masculine beauty which had not certainly before impressed him to anything like the same degree. He had carefully dressed himself; his manner betokened complete self-possession; his handsome eyes shone clear and steady, and his face exhibited a mind whose command over itself was complete. The worn look partly due to dissipation, partly due to the hard life of the sea which[Pg 62] was often injuriously visible by daylight, was now concealed in the soft veil of light shed by the wax candles. They shook hands, and seated themselves. Just before he left the ship, the young fellow Paul, whom he had told to come down on Saturday, stepped from the fore part of the ship where he had been watching two or three men caulking, and gave Mr Lawrence his usual salute of a pluck at a forelock and a scrape of a hinder foot. And now, after days of loneliness and nights of terror, Maurice was up again and outside where he could catch the wood-breeze and smell the sweet odor of plants and clearing fires. He wondered how many years he had been away from it all. How old was he now? Why didn't his mother answer his questions? He did not realize that his voice was weak; he had forgotten that his mother was deaf. All he knew was that nobody cared a hang for him any more, not even his own mother. His weak hands clutched at the bandage at his throat, as though to tear it off and hurl it from him. His head sank weakly back against the wall, and the tears came to his eyes..
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