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"No, on the shore, Miss," said the Admiral. "A French corsair was chased ashore about five miles up and burnt.",
"But Harry, don't you see, that stuff belongs to Caleb Spencer. The thieves must have hid it there, in the ha'nted house.",
This said, they all went over the side, the Admiral taking great care of Miss Acton as she crossed the planks. Mr Lawrence remained in the gangway. When on the wharf his father called to him.,
Some men were now arrived. They picked up the litter with careful hands, and in a sort of procession Mr Lawrence was conveyed into the deck-house, Lucy walking beside him, whilst behind stepped the Admiral, Mr Fellowes, and the Phœbe's surgeon. Once only did Lucy speak in that solemn march from the quarterdeck into the little interior. She looked back and asked: "Where is my father?"
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"No, I don't either, I mean his and Scroggie's game; of course Scroggie's behind him.",
"I don't quite understand," said Captain Acton, gazing with friendly interest at the jolly, round, weather-dyed face of Sir William, whose looks certainly at this moment did not wear the jocund complexion they were used to carry.,
"Yep. They're in a can in my pocket. Did Croaker come back?" he inquired, as the two made their way down the path.,
Maurice whistled. "Gee! Bill, you don't mean t' tell me that water-snake you call Hawk-killer is him?"
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"Oh, hadn't he then! Well, who up and deliberately stole his horse, I'd like to know?" Mrs. Wilson held her breath waiting for the answer.
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The footman ran out. Miss Acton looked with eager, tearful expectation at her brother, who addressing the Admiral, exclaimed:
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On the top-most branch of a tall, dead pine, close beside the wood-pile, sat the tame crow, Croaker, his head cocked demurely on one side, as he listened to the woman's righteous abuse. Croaker could no more help filling his claws with chips and dirt and wobbling the full length of a line filled with snowy, newly-washed clothes than he could help upsetting the pan of water in the chicken-pen, when he saw the opportunity. He hated anything white with all his sinful little heart and he hated the game rooster in the same way. He was always in trouble with Ma Wilson, always in trouble with the rooster. Only when safe in the highest branch of the pine was he secure, and in a position to talk back to his persecutors.
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>Billy turned. "I didn't say I ate Anson's pie an' cake, Ma," he said gently. "I didn't take it 'cause I wanted it."
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