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"My daughter, sir!" cried Captain Acton.,"No, I don't either, I mean his and Scroggie's game; of course Scroggie's behind him.","And what's your name?","Naw, you know what they'd do. They'd let the cat out o' the bag sure. They're all right fer light work sech as swipin' watermelon an' helpin' make a seine-haul but they ain't no good at treasure an' will huntin'.","By Gosh, you've hit it right on the head. That's what eddication does fer a man—makes him sharp as a razor. Yes, they're brothers an' so much alike all I've got to do is describe one of 'em an' you have 'em all.",The building held all the unmistakable odors of a school room. The smell of chalk dust, mouldy bread crusts, mice, dirty slates and musty books rose up to smite the arrivals. Four rows of pine seats, blackened with ink-daubs and deeply scarred by pocket-knives, ran the entire length of the building. A big box stove stood in the centre of the room, its wavering pipe supported by wires from the ceiling.,"You bet he was. Had Ringdo up a tree an' was doin' his best to knock him out.",They found him seated on a stool, fondling the big grey-blue cat. He placed the cat gently down as they entered.,The story was to Captain Acton's taste, and he laughed with enjoyment.,"Have you spoke any ships lately?" asked Captain Weaver.,"When does the Minorca sail?","I say we kin have Louie over, too, Willium," Mrs. Wilson suggested once again..