ment. Doesn't get far off either, unless something very unforeseen happens. If you want to complete your education in the water line, ask Bill Buffum. And he's the queerest old duck. Sits there all by himself most of the time, reading sea yarns or watching the ocean. But he has right much company. Everybody who comes this way stops to see him, sometimes as many as three visitors a week, not counting the man who brings his 'vittles' from the fishing settlement over yonder. So far as I know he does his own washing, for I never saw him without that same blue shirt that always looks tolerable clean. Beckon it must be an easy conscience. Now let's go over and chat with him."
There was a noisy chorus of assent.
The lads were ready enough for the experience. Cape Peril had a tang of romance to its very name and to meet an ex-mariner who had scoured the Seven Seas was a treat not to be had every day. "He doesn't mind boys asking him questions, does he?" inquired Legs.
"Tickles him to death. Only trouble is to stop him when he gets wound up. I'll leave you fellows with him for a while, and when I come
