“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Scood. “Who ever heard of a forest with trees?”
“Hold your tongue, Scood, or I’ll pitch you overboard.”
“She’s always talking spout pitching her overpoard, but she never does,” muttered Scood.
“Our land runs right along there for three miles. Once upon a time The Mackhai’s forest ran along for thirty miles.”
“How is it that it does not now?”
“Father says the rascally lawyers—I beg your pardon. He was cross when he said that.”
Kenneth hastily changed the subject, as he saw his companion’s flushed countenance.
“I say, we’ll come out here fishing one day. Like fishing for mackerel?”
“I never did fish for them.”
“Oh, it’s rare sport. We have a couple of rods out each side as we sail along, and catch plenty when there’s a shoal. Looks high, doesn’t it?”