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Frank Stanhope turned slowly and held out his hands. "That's a nice smile you wear," said Mr. Johnston scathingly as he gazed down at Billy, his bony fingers caressing the long, supple pointer. Billy stood up. "I'll tell you what I'm willin' to do, Anse," he suggested. "If you'll keep mum about this thing, I'll let you come duck-shootin' with me an' Maurice tomorrow.".

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CHAPTER XVI BILLY MEETS A DIVINITY Scarcely had the ball of satin-white smoke, belched from the cannon's mouth, been shredded by the wind and carried low over the heads of the breaking seas in rags and lengths like pieces of a torn silk veil, when the helm of the barque was put down, stun-sail halliards were let go, all in such a hurry that the sails fouled the booms and yard-arms, and painted a scene of confusion aloft, that might have stood as a perfect picture of panic[Pg 432] at sea; the yards on the main were laboriously hauled around and the main topsail backed and the barque was at rest, rolling and tumbling very uncomfortably with a great deal of flying and flapping aloft, one man at the wheel, two men standing close beside him in a posture of waiting, and the fore-part of the bulwarks from the gangway to the fore-rigging lined with the heads of the crew. He drew her a little further among the pines and they peered out to see Croaker alight on the broken-backed ridge pole of the log hut. "I think that Mr. Johnston went a little too far there," Wilson ventured..