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"That I'll do," assented Harry, unhesitatingly. "Call up yer snake an' handle ut widout bein' bit, an' I'll help ye.",
Not until he had put some distance between himself and hia friends did he remember that he had not told them the great and wonderful news that had been imparted to him by old Harry. Well, never mind, they would hear it soon. Harry would see to that. He turned into a path that strayed far up among clumps of red-gold maples and ochre-stained oaks. The whistle of quail sounded from a ridge of brown sumachs. Up the hill, across the deep valley, where wintergreen berries gleamed like drops of blood among the mosses, he passed slowly and on to the beech-crowned ridge.,
"It's Jacobs. Listen, Pa, I'll tell you how I know. Anse, you remember, was sort of helper with them drillers till he got askin' too many questions an' they fired him. Well, all he asked 'em, I put him up to ask. Anse was always a mighty good listener an' he often heard these two, Jack and Tom, speak of Jacobs an' call him boss. An' one day when Hinter comes over, Anse heard one of 'em call him Jacobs, an' Hinter was awful mad about it.",
CHAPTER XIX CROAKER BRINGS A GIFT
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He led the way to the house, Maurice following meekly with the market-basket, eyes running tears and throat burning.,
"Come Croaker," pleaded Maurice again. But the crow was obdurate. It is barely possible that he failed to recognize Maurice owing to the sick boy's altered looks or perhaps he expected a glimpse of the reward which was always his for the performing of a service. With one backward look from his bright eyes, he spread his short wings and sailed across to Mrs. Keeler, settling on her shoulder with a harsh croak, whereat that greatly-startled lady sat down on the gravel, her lap full of dirty water and potatoes.,
"'Gimme the money,' says Johnston.,
"You throwed somethin' at the ghost afore you howled an' run," Fatty stated. "Maybe it was the rabbit foot?"
"Have you told Mr. Hinter yet?" she asked suddenly.
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"I see 'em," his friend whispered back. "Gosh! looks as though they're goin' to tramp right onto us."
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"If they are not British, sir," said the Admiral, after a prolonged squint through the glass, "I'll swallow my cocked hat when I get ashore."
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He raised his face at sound of the boy's step. "Ho, Billy!" he called cheerfully. "Is it you?"
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>The Admiral, Captain Acton, and Captain Weaver stood in the gangway to receive the officer, a man whose portrait should be painted by the caricaturing brush of a Michael Scott. He was this side of forty, and a great Roman nose stood out like a flying jib between two gaunt cheeks whose hollows when he was silent made you think he was sucking in his breath. He wore a pigtail under a very old, tarnished cocked hat. His uniform coat was scarcely held together by the tailor's thread, and appeared to have travelled a score of times round the world in an age when a voyage round the world was regarded as something more prodigious than we should now consider a voyage to the moon, if such a journey were practicable. His shoes were rusty; his hose had gone into mourning over an absence of soap that was all the same as the death of his laundress. Yet despite a garb that made a travesty of the human figure there was something distinguished and even noble in the man's bearing. It was to be seen at once (and no masterful capacity of penetration was needed) that in this officer was the gentleman of old blood, poor and proud, a loyal subject whose heart's life was at the service of his King and country.
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