CHAPTER II.
Perhaps Jack Starland’s most noticeable trait in boyhood was his fondness for the water. He was a magnificent swimmer and learned to handle a small boat with the skill of a veteran sailor. Some of his dare-devil exploits in cruising among the Farallones and down the coast caused his father great concern. He placed such severe restrictions upon the lad that he rebelled. One day he slipped out of the house, went down to the wharf and engaged to go as cabin boy on a South Sea whaler. At the critical moment, however, his conscience asserted itself and he drew back. His father never knew of this particular episode in the life of his son. Had it been carried out, it would have broken the parent’s heart.
It was shortly after this that Jack received his appointment to the Military Academy. He had told his “sister” Warrenia of his narrow escape from playing the part of a fool and ingrate, and naturally she was horrified.
“There never would have been the slightest excuse for such folly and wickedness,” said she, as the two sat in a palace car of the overland train, flying eastward; “you have the kindest of fathers and you can never do enough to repay your obligations to him.”
“I admit all that,” replied the young man smiling, “but what’s the use of rubbing it in when I didn’t run away?”
“But you started to do so,” she persisted.
“And stopped in time: what was wrong in that?”
“It was wrong that you should have had a minute when you seriously intended to commit the crime.”