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"It is good of your Royal Highness," she exclaimed in softly modulated, respectful tones, uttered in a measure that gave them a courtier-like dignity, "to visit me in my loneliness and distress. The great Duke of Clarence, sir"—again she curtsied—"will ever be remembered with love and pride by a kingdom whose glory lies in the deeds of her sailors, for his devotion to the sea, to those who sail it, and who bleed for their country upon it.",

"What?" The deacon gripped the boy's arm and shook him. "What's that you say?" he questioned eagerly.,

CHAPTER X IN LOST MAN'S SWAMP,

By mid-afternoon Billy Wilson's boon companions had learned from him that a good-will offering was to be made the fishermen of Sandtown by the people of Scotia. It was a terrible disgrace—a dangerous state of affairs. The hated Sand-sharkers merited nothing and should receive nothing, if Billy and his friends could help it. Immediate action was necessary if the plan of the farmers was to be frustrated and the outlaw fishermen kept in their proper place. So Billy and his friends held a little caucus in the beach grove behind the school-house. For two hours they talked together in low tones. Then Billy arose and crept stealthily away through the trees. The others silently separated.

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Billy thought a moment. "Say, how'd you like to go out in my punt, on Levee Crick? I kin show you some cute baby mushrats an' some dandy black-birds' nests. It's not far away. We go 'cross that big fallow and through a strip o' hardwoods an' then we climb a stump fence—an' there's the crick. It's an awful fine crick, an' plumb full of bass an' pike. Say, will you go?",

He paused.,

"Anse, listen," Billy put a detaining hand on his brother's shoulder. "You don't need to do that, an' you needn't sleep in this bed neither. I'll sleep in it, an' you kin sleep in mine. That gorilla, er whatever it is, can't hurt me, cause I've got that rabbit-foot charm that Tom Dodge give me. I'll tie it round my neck.",

"By George!" cried the big man, slapping his friend's knee. "There's a boy for you, Doctor. Why, sir," addressing Stanhope, "not one youngster in a thousand could have done what he did. When he came to us our boat was all but swamped. We had given up. My friend here was utterly helpless with the cold and I was little better. And then he came riding close in like a mere straw on the waves and something flashed past me and fell with a bump against our boat-seat. 'Bale,' he screeched, and I picked up the can he had thrown us and bale I did for all I was worth. Then he came shooting back. 'You got to get out of that trough,' he shouted. 'Throw your painter loose, so's I can grab it as I pass, and I'll straighten your bow to take the seas.'"