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Then it was that Croaker, gripping the glasses in one black claw, burst into a cry of joyful recognition. Maurice puckered up his lips and gave an answering call. It was returned almost immediately. A moment later two more boys came into the moonlight. "How," he exclaimed, "I am always being disappointed! If you turn off at the bridge I shall not be allowed more than ten minutes' talk with you.".

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Billy drew in his breath hard. He fully intended that none of those straining ears should miss his answer. Suddenly it had come to him that it was an easy question to answer; there could in fact be but one answer to it. The speaker paused, his face aglow. "I managed to cast that painter loose and the boy caught it as he shot past us. Then I felt the skiff straighten and I heard him shout again, 'Bale! bale like fury!' So I baled and baled and by and by we shipped less water than I managed to throw out. All this time that youngster was hauling us in to safety. I don't know who the boy is, but let me tell you this, my friend, if I was his daddy I'd be the proudest man on the face of the earth." He ran out of the cabin. The Admiral pillowed his son's head with his arm, and gazed at the marble-still features. Never could any man appear more stricken, though 'tis hard to tell by posture or by expression of face the depth of human sorrow, the pang of the wound that death alone can heal. His only son—whom he had cursed for his wickedness—whose professional life, extinguished by an act of drunken madness, had swelled the eyes of the father with the unshed tears of the spirit of[Pg 439] a man—lying dead or dying on his arm—self-slain! "How 'bout quail?".