“Now you’re getting peevish.” Wilmot rose from the table, still keeping his smile of indifference, but by no means content at heart. “I don’t like you when you’re peevish!”
The bell rang; the boys came flocking in and crowded up the stairway. Harrison took Tracy’s arm as they leisurely followed the stream.
“Isn’t that new fellow at Adams’s coming out?”
“Who? Hardie?”
“Yes. He sat opposite us at luncheon to-day with the kids and didn’t peep.”
“He hasn’t said much to any one yet. He’ll be out to-day if he gets his clothes.”
“Do you think he’ll be good for anything?” pursued the captain, anxiously. “We need about six more good men.”
Tracy gave his chin a side tip that might have expressed doubt, or merely reserve of judgment. “I don’t know. He isn’t very heavy, but if you’d seen him chucking trunks around this morning, you’d think him fairly strong.”
“Trunks?”
“Yes, we piled a few in front of his door last night.”