“I will, father, see if I don’t,” cried Will, enthusiastically. “I’m bound to work, and I don’t intend to get into trouble and peril to do it as I did to-day, either. Don’t think me lacking in respect to my elders, father, because I defied Captain Morris, but he is a bad-hearted, malignant man, and I could not control my indignation at his conduct.”
“And where is Tom Dalton?” inquired Mrs. Bertram.
“I don’t know,” responded Will. “Poor fellow, I must hunt him up as soon as the Moose sails, for he’ll keep in hiding until then. Captain Morris says I’m helping a mutiny and breaking his discipline, but I think it’s a mighty bad discipline he’s got, father.”
“Well, come, Will, your supper is ready, and there’s plenty of time to discuss the affair later,” urged Mrs. Bertram, as she bestowed a tender look on her son and carefully folded away the bill.
They sat down at the table, but Will’s tongue would run over the exciting events of the day. They had scarcely completed the meal when a quick knock sounded at the door.
Mrs. Bertram looked inquiringly at the well-dressed stranger who stood revealed on the threshold as she answered the knock.
“Does Mr. Bertram live here?” he inquired, and then, as she nodded assent, he continued: “I am looking for Will Bertram.”
Will recognized the voice and hastened to the door.
“Oh! it’s the gentleman who wanted the osprey,” he explained.
“Come in, sir,” spoke Mrs. Bertram, while the husband tendered him a chair.