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“Do you think—” began the other boy.,My, oh, my! Here he stood without any clothes on and with the boat-hook from the “Sea Mew” in his hand! And here came the merchant who owned the sail-boat.,Life is but short—,Bob had to admit this was so. “Maybe you’re right. Anyhow, it’s so dark we can’t tell for certain. I think we’d better get ashore somewheres and make camp. We’ll find out about it in the morning.”,In the flare of the match Bob had recognized the newcomer. It was a Mexican, Miguel Philipe, who was an underforeman at the trap rock quarry.,Indeed he wasn’t a rascal. The whole thing had just happened of itself. It was no plan of his, but it was just as unlucky as if it had been.,“Mother dear, don’t you think that Bob will surely go to heaven when he dies?”,“You’re with us—the Service, I mean—aren’t you?” finished Bob seriously. “Even if it means going against what your father thinks is best?”,It is true the castle was crowded with visitors; the former apartments of Madame de Menon were the only ones unoccupied, and these were in magnificent preparation for the pleasure of the marchioness, who was unaccustomed to sacrifice her own wishes to the comfort of those around her. She therefore treated lightly the subject, which, seriously attended to, would have endangered her new plan of delight.,Wide open stood the park gates, wide open the heavy, richly wrought gates to the courtyard, where the fountain was splashing musically; wide open, too, the great entrance doors and all the doors between the rooms, so that light and air streamed once more through the long-closed mansion. Very big and beautiful it looked in the bright sunshine, and its curtains fluttering in the summer wind seemed to be waving a welcome from the windows.,“How old are you now, Bob? Seventeen, isn’t it? Yes, yes, of course. And in a week or two you will have finished with Crossways for good?”,“Good work, Bob, my boy! It’s great to see you! Have a good trip? You’ve grown since I saw you—how’re the other fellows? How’s Big Chris?”.