"What's the Pleiades, Jimmie?"
"Do' know. Wa'n't any at home as I know of."
"Stars, you galoop."
"That's what the Johnnies were shooting at."
"Hey! He must 'a' been jokin'," from the shadow called Jimmie.
"Who?"
"The cap'n said he was king of 'em, he did."
"Oh, go to—"
"Can't see any stars to-night."
The distant volleying died down to a rattle—to the crack of a single rifle far away, lonely in the immense night, the encircling silence.