The man was almost a caricature owing to malformation and other deformities. His red hair flamed; he was hunched, his arms were as long as a baboon's and seemed designed for climbing. His legs were arched and at the same time crooked at the knees, so that he appeared to be stooping whether he walked or stood, and to complete the suggestion of his origin he had a trick of scratching himself like a monkey. He was about twenty-five years of age. Whose son he was he could not have told. He preeminently belonged to the parish.,
"Well, sir, it's like this," said the man, pronouncing his words forcibly in his determination to show a bold front. "Us sailors who agreed to sail this 'ere ship to Kingston in Jamaica have got to hear that we are bound to another port, though where it is ain't know'd.",
"Oh gollies!" gasped Anson. "What's he huntin' copperheads fer, Bill?",
"Well!" was all Wilson could say, and he repeated it to himself several times, dazedly.
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Wilson stepped out into the spicy summer darkness and went slowly down the path to the barn. As far as eye could reach, through the partially cleared forest, tiny clearing fires glowed up through the darkness, seeming to vie with big low hanging stars. The pungent smoke of burning log and sward mingled pleasantly with the scent of fern and wild blossoms.,
CHAPTER I BILLY WILSON'S STRATEGY,
Billy had thrown off his shooting-coat and was climbing out of the blind.,
Captain Acton with a violent effort had by this time recollected himself.
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"British, as I guessed," cried the Admiral.
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He sighed and turned to glance back at the cottage resting in the hardwood grove. It looked very homey, very restful to him, beneath its vines of clustering wild-grape and honeysuckle. It was home—home it must be always. And Mary loved it just as he loved it; this he knew. She was a fine woman, a great helpmate, a wonderful wife and mother. She was fair minded too. She loved Billy quite as much as she loved her own son, Anson. Billy must be more careful, more thoughtful of her comfort. He would have a heart to heart talk with his son, he told himself as he went on to the barn.
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"We must take our chance," said Captain Acton to Weaver, "and end our doubts in the only possible way. See that our ensign blows clear for the eyes aboard of her."
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Halin-Chen Response,
>"Nuthin'. Promised I wouldn't tell him no ghost stories fer a week if he'd help me out."
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