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"But you were never at sea. You'll be sick in your hammock, and I shall be wanting some one to wait upon me.","No, me an' Pa an' Anse was down at the back end of the place. Ma saw him, though, an' she told me all about it. Say, maybe I wasn't mad, but I got even, all right.","Bill," Jim cried eagerly. "I got a bit of news for you that'll make you want to stand on your head and kick splinters off the trees.",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.,Billy wriggled free of the golden-rod. "Come on over an' help me move my menagerie an' we'll plan out a way.",Billy nodded. "An' is the schooner still anchored off here?" he asked. "I might take a fish-boat an' row out to her, if she is.",It is needless, of course, to say that this searching walk was in vain. Whatever lay white in his road he rushed at, and in his gizzard he cursed the vast number of pieces of white paper which did somehow, as though distributed by innumerable malicious Greyquills, attract his eye and retard his progress whilst he turned them over.,"Deep?",Billy nodded. "Yep, last night. He was asleep when that thing climbed in his winder an' tried to suck his blood away.",Anson nodded eagerly.,"Boys," cried Billy in awed tones. "It's gone!",She turned her eyes upon him when the surly shell-back had come to this part of his thoughts, and frowned without recognition in her face as he read it. She stared at him, not with the heavy-lidded, beautiful eyes of Lucy Acton, but with orbs of sight whose glances seemed keen as rays of light as they shot from under her knitted brows. Though her fair forehead was deformed by a scowl, her lips were curved into a meaningless smile—the very expression of the idiot's highest facial effort, and all meaning or no meaning that was in her countenance was accentuated by the unusual, uncommon, very faint tinge which had taken the place of the habitual bloom of her cheeks and paled her into an aspect of distraction, wildness, and insanity..