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"Is that your opinion, sir?" Captain Weaver asked the Admiral.,

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.,

Lucy first of all spent three-quarters of an hour in drawing. She was a charming picture as she sat in the library bending over her board; her eyes dwelt in their beauty of lids and heavy lashes, sometimes with a little fire of pleasure, sometimes with a little life of impatience, upon the motions of her pencil[Pg 84] and its results, and perhaps not always did she think of what she was about, for now and again the pencil would stand idle in her hand, the natural glow of her cheek would slightly deepen as to some visitation of moving thought; her eyes would lift in languor from her work to the open window, upon the bit of landscape which it framed, beautiful with the small darts, and curves, and lights of springtime in the trees, they appeared to brood in contemplation from which she broke sometimes with a faint smile, sometimes with an expression upon her sweet lips which found a deeper loveliness for her naturally pensive look.,

The approaching terror had drifted into the shadow again. Suddenly, so near that it fairly seemed to scorch the frowsy top of the sapling to which he was hanging, a weird blue light twisted upward almost in Billy's eyes. At the same moment a tiny hoot-owl, sleeping off its early evening's feed in the cedar close beside the boys, woke up and gave a ghostly cry. It was too much for overstrained nerves to stand. Billy felt Fatty's form quiver and leap even before his agonized howl fell on his ears—a cry which he and Maurice may have echoed, for all he knew.

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"Well, what kind of a feller is he, anyway? Come, answer up.",

Billy closed his eyes and took tight hold of his chair seat. He knew that if he did not summon all his self restraint he would surely spoil all he had accomplished through strategy. He longed to swoop down on his mother and hug her, slap her on the back and yell in her ear that she was a brick. But experience had taught him caution. And besides, Billy reasoned, there was still something more to be accomplished.,

"She carried nothing but fore-and-aft sails on her mizzen-mast," said he.,

So it seemed to the boy, as from the brow of a hill he watched the dawn-haze drift toward the newly-open sun-gates of the eastern sky; for autumn always brought a feeling of sadness to Billy. He missed the twitter of the birds, the thousand and one notes of the wild things he loved and which always passed out and away from his world with the summer. The first hoar frost had come; soon the leaves would turn golden and crimson, the fern-clumps crumple and wither into sere, dead, scentless things. Then with shortening days and darkening skies those leaves and plants would sag to earth and the gaunt arms of the bare trees would lift empty nests toward snow-spitting skies.