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Ringold nodded approval. "All right, Neighbor Watland. Anybody else got anythin' to say?" "It's mighty queer," Billy confessed. "But you see, if that little bird was wise, she'd scoop that crow black bird's egg out o' her nest, instead of hatchin' it." "You are quite right," said Captain Weaver. "Guns would only be in our way, and sarve to check the beauty, which we don't want.".

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Mrs. Keeler lifted the basket which Maurice had placed on the floor at his feet. "What's the matter with you?" she asked, giving him a shake. It was tough! Billy felt sure that had he been allowed a little more time he might have solved one or more of the problems which weighed him down. He felt like a man who was being cut suddenly off from his usefulness. Saturday he spent roaming the big woods alone. On Saturday evening Maurice came over and the two went down to Levee Creek, set sail in the old punt and steered up-bay towards the light-house. But the breakfast bell had been rung, and leaving Captain Weaver and his mate to keep an eye upon the stranger and to act with the prudence which was to be expected of a man of Weaver's sagacity and experience, Captain Acton and his companion entered the deck-house. Here was a cheerful little interior, gay with sunshine, which sparkled in the furniture of the breakfast-table, on which smoked as relishable and hearty a meal as was to be obtained at sea in those days. The two gentlemen found much to talk about, and perhaps because of an argument they had fallen into, their sitting was somewhat lengthened: until just when they were about to rise, Captain Weaver came to the cabin door, and after, with the old-fashioned courtesy of his period, begging their pardon, he exclaimed: "The sail's now clear in the glass from the deck." Billy nodded. "An' is the schooner still anchored off here?" he asked. "I might take a fish-boat an' row out to her, if she is.".