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"And," said the lawyer as Jacobs paused to wipe his beaded brow, "you thought the will lay in Spencer's safe, and that he was holding it away because of petty malice?" Keeler thrust out a huge hand. "That's me," he answered. "You're jest in time fer breakfast. It's nigh ready. Come 'round back an' wash up. Maurice, go put the teacher's horse in the stable an' give him a feed." "I couldn't tell, your honour. The piece of chicken is on the bed, and I see the piece of bacon under it. I dunno what she was doin' with her nose a-nuzzling of the tray as though she was a-smelling of the salt.".

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Down through the night-enshrouded woods the boys made their way noiselessly, Billy leading, Walter Watland, nicknamed Fatty on account of his size, close behind him and Maurice Keeler, Billy's sworn chum and confidant, bringing up the rear. Occasionally a soft-winged owl fluttered up from its kill, with a muffled "who-who." Once a heavy object plunged from the trail with a snort, and the boys felt the flesh along their spines creeping. They kept on without so much as a word, crossing a swift creek on a fallen tree, holding to its bank and making a detour into the woods to avoid passing close to a dilapidated log cabin which in the moonlight bore evidence of having fallen into disuse. As they skirted the heavy thicket of pines, which even in the summer night's stillness sighed low and mournfully, the leader halted suddenly and a low exclamation fell from his lips. The girl's eyes grew wider and wider with wonderment. "Isn't it strange?" she half whispered, "and beautiful?" This was proof conclusive that Miss Acton had not. "By God!" cried Admiral Lawrence in a voice of thunder, letting fly the profanity with the bellows of a boatswain, "why, Acton, there's Lucy aboard that brig! I can make her out plain in this glass.".