"Don't allow him to throw you off your guard with any of his specious talk," replied his mother, in a cautious tone. "To quote from Morris, he is a mighty palavering sort of fellow."
"I'll watch him. Good-afternoon, Mr. Beardsley. Will you come up and take a chair?" The man was a visitor, and as such was entitled to civil treatment even if his company wasn't desired.
"Yes, I reckon I'll set while I talk," answered Beardsley, taking possession of the seat that was placed for him. "Rough times these."
"Yes; and they'll be rougher before we see the end of them," was Marcy's reply.
"Don't reckon there'll be any fighting, do you?"
The boy said he was sure of it.
"Well, what's one man's pizen is another man's meat," said Mr. Beardsley, with a wink that no doubt meant a great deal. "By the way, Marcy, you've been to school and oughter be posted in such things,—what is a letter of mark-we and reprisal? I've been down to Wilmington a time or two on business, but I did not like to ask the folks there what it meant. They're strangers mostly, and I sorter scringed against letting 'em see how ignorant I was."
"It's a commission granted by a sovereign of a State to his subjects, authorizing them to prey upon the property of the subjects of another State, if they happen to find any at sea," answered Marcy. "That's as near as I can tell it without looking the matter up."
"It is about what I thought it meant. Now, does that letter or commission give protection to the crew of the privateer if they happen to be caught? They won't hang 'em, will they?"
"I don't think they will. A few years ago some European powers tried to induce Uncle Sam to enter into an agreement to abolish privateering, but he wouldn't do it. Our private armed vessels gave England a good deal of trouble while she was trying to whip us, and might do the same thing again under like circumstances."