I
feel almost defrauded of my just rights. Do you suppose I knocked the
conceit out of him with my talk of big game?"
"I don't know," said Morton, "but I guess he took a liking to you. He's
queer about that. Sometimes he won't look at these fancy fellers that
come down from the city, no matter how much they offer. He says he can't
abide 'em--that a fool of a loon is too good to die at their hands!"
"And he isn't far wrong, I'm thinking. Are you going that way? Then you
will pass near the yacht, won't you? Have you any objections to taking a
look at it, to see if it is safe? Oh, and by the way, there's a
basketful of eatables stowed away under the stern-seat that we won't
need now; couldn't you dispose of them in some way?"
"I think I could, sir," said Morton demurely, dropping his lids, not to
show too strongly the joy in his eyes, for if he had been hungry in the
morning, he was ravenous now.
"All right, then; good-by, my little friend--or, rather, _au
revoir_. I'll see you in the morning," and the two separated,
mutually pleased with each other.
A few minutes later Morton entered the home kitchen, joy beaming from
his countenance, and a large basket hanging from his arm.
"Sara," he cried, "have you been to dinner?"
"No, we waited for you; but how late you are.
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