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He had found a cake-box, with half a loaf of pound-cake, the kind that keeps for years. Just at the same instant I had climbed up on a shelf and captured two glass tumblers whose contents seemed promising. Sure enough, their labels bore the fascinating words: "Raspberry Jam." Jimmy Toppan presently discovered a can of soda- crackers. Mr.
"You'd better look out for him," Mr. Daddles whispered to Pete, "this may be guile." Then all of us, except Pete, the Chief, and our prisoner, went below, and prepared to turn in. Jimmy Toppan stretched himself out on a bunk and went to sleep in no time at all. Ed Mason and I picked out places for ourselves, while Mr. Daddles made himself comfortable with a couple of pillows under his head.
"Oh, my experience of a sailor's life has been limited," said the new passenger. "To tell the truth, I've never been as far East as this but once before. I was here for a few days, summer before last. My uncle lives at Bailey's Harbor, on Little Duck Island." "Does he?" asked Jimmy Toppan, "What's his name?" "Alfred Peabody." "Is HE your uncle?" exclaimed the Captain.
<b>BONSALL, ELIZABETH F.</b> First Toppan prize, and Mary Smith prize twice, at Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. Member of Plastic Club, Philadelphia. Born at Philadelphia. Studied at the above-named Academy and in Paris; also at the Drexel Institute, Philadelphia, under Eakins, Courtois, Collin, and Howard Pyle. Miss Bonsall is well known for her pictures of cats.
Jimmy Toppan had already begun to pull the small boat alongside, but before he could get into it, the young man called out: "That's all right! I'll swim." And he plunged into the water, and struck out toward us. Of course he could not overtake a sail-boat, and we soon left him behind. He kept on swimming, however, until his hat fell off.
I'm beginning to be soaked." "Oh, we'll be all right again," I said, "when we're aboard. The Captain " I stopped suddenly. We all halted on the end of the wharf, and stared across the inlet. We looked at the spot where our boat had anchored, and then we looked up and down the inlet. The "Hoppergrass" was gone! "What!" exclaimed Jimmy Toppan, "gone?"
Somehow, I think I'm going through life with him in close pursuit." "Let's see what he's up to now," said Sprague. "He's probably scuttling the ship," suggested Jimmy Toppan. Sprague opened the cabin doors, and pushed back the hatchway. Gregory had lighted the lamp and was calmly engaged in examining the clock. To our surprise the wrath seemed to have gone out of the man.
The constable was now in a fury. "If he locks up a man for banjo-playing " murmured Mr. Daddles, "He'll have us burned at the stake," suggested Jimmy Toppan. I had been feeling very unhappy ever since we arrived in the police-station. It looked to me as if we were in a pretty bad fix.
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