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"I expect the frigate that chased her will be one of the Western squadron," said Captain Acton. "How finely those ships are doing their work! Since they've been sweeping these waters scarce a French picaroon dare put his nose out; when before, the seas swarmed like a tropic calm with bristling fins of sharks." "Walk in, Captain Weaver. Pray, take that chair," said Captain Acton. "I can ask you no questions until I make you acquainted with what has happened." "He surely did not," answered Cobin. "Nobody knows where he went—nor cares. But nobody can do anythin' with that timber without his sayso. It's a year or more since ol' Scroggie died. People do say that his ghost floats about the old cabin, at nights, but of course that can't be, sir.".
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Conrad
Above him bent a face with tender blue eyes and red, half-smiling lips beneath a crowning glory as golden as frost-pinched maple leaf. And she would be at school in the morning! It was while pondering on how he might contrive to wear his Sunday clothes on the morrow that Billy fell asleep to dream that he was old man Scroggie's ghost and that he was sitting in the centre of Lake Erie with the big hardwoods bush on his knees, waiting for her to come that he might present it all to her. "Ner me, either. I guess we'll have to give up the hunt fer t'night, Maurice. Anyways, we don't know jest how to work ol' Harry's fairy arrer." The old man started. "That's me own business," he answered shortly. "Then," said Billy sorrowfully, turning toward the door, "I guess there's only one thing fer me to do.".
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