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CHAPTER XIX CROAKER BRINGS A GIFT It has been said that Old Harbour House stood. The house takes its place as a beauty of the past. On Christmas Eve 1832, fire reduced it to a few blackened walls. All through the long night the flames made a wild, grand show; sea and land were illuminated for leagues and leagues. Out of the ashes of the beautiful building sprang that commonplace phoenix, the local poet, who celebrated the one tradition of Old Harbour Town in a copy of rhymes, of which the first verse should be found imprinted on the title-page of this book. "Pretty well—pretty middling, I thank ye," answered the Admiral. "But just now in a bit of a fix. It has come to our knowledge that there has been a mutiny on board the Minorca, and that the crew are navigating the vessel to Rio de Janeiro——".

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The room had grown still—a graveyard hush, broken only by a sob from the tenderest-hearted of the girls, who knew that Billy had lied to save one of their sex. Reaching the cut Billy found the other shooters having some difficulty in getting their heavy skiff through the shallow and deceptive water, a feat which only one who was used to navigating could hope to accomplish successfully. At the same time he noted, with a start, that the men in the skiff were the mysterious drillers, Tom and Jack. Maurice glanced fearfully over his shoulder. "Hush, Bill. If your Ma happens to come back here it'll go bad with me." Apparently the boy did not hear the first question. "Mr. Ringold," he whispered, "I waited here to see you. The Sandtown fishermen are comin' to rob your orchard tonight.".