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It was not until Billy had finished his breakfast and was about to slip quietly out that his mother spoke again. Then fixing him with cold, accusing eyes, she said: "I want 'a know what you had to do with scarin' the new teacher so he won't never come back to the Valley School ag'in, Willium.",

"I heard you and Frank Stanhope arrangin' to go after bay ducks t'other day," said Wilson as he followed Billy into the shed.,

"You're a pair of plotters," cried Erie, "and being a weak, helpless girl I suppose I'll have to agree with you and submissively roast those birds to suit your taste.",

The Admiral just now happened to be at dinner. A shoulder of mutton and onion sauce with potatoes roasted with the shoulder and such other vegetables as the season yielded was a dish fit to set before a king, and the monarch who turned up his nose at such a dainty should be made to banquet on nothing but the fare they give kings upon the stage. Indeed, Sir William would tell his friends he knew for a fact that a shoulder of mutton was the favourite dish of His Royal Highness Prince William. If it was objected that the joint yielded more bone than meat he had his answer:

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And still, it must be true. Immediately his manner towards Scroggie underwent a change. All the antipathy that a woods-born boy can feel toward a city-bred one vanished suddenly at the intelligence imparted to him. It was the look of true comradeship, the smile that always won him confidence and fidelity, that he gave Jim now, as he whispered: "Any time you want'a borrie my shot-gun, Jim, jest let me know.",

Mr Lawrence, with a nod and an expression of face that was scarcely a smile, quitted the ship, and on the wharf found Mr Eagle, who had as a matter of fact for a minute or two been watching him.,

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.,

"Yes. Very characteristic. I rank Pellew after Nelson."