There were more who said it was very bad form for him to attempt to take first honors away from a man to whom he owed his life, but Mark Merrill seemed not to regard it in that light.
One afternoon Mark received a letter which seemed to give him a great deal of worry.
At last he sought Bemis Perry, and said:
“See here, Perry, you have got a very level head, and I wish to ask your advice.”
“Fire away, old man, for I am at your service from truck to keelson.”
“I have a letter here from Miss Virgene Rich, whom you met at my mother’s.”
“Ah! I see; but you are over-young to marry yet, Mark. Flirt all you wish to, have a sweetheart in every port, which is a sailor’s prerogative, but don’t let any girl get her grappling irons on you too securely to shake off.”
“My dear Perry, you generally speak with the wisdom of Solomon, but just now you are on the wrong tack, so go about and know your course before you set full sail.”
“My anchor’s down, Merrill, and hatches closed,” and Perry dropped into his chair and placed his finger upon his lips.
“It concerns Clemmons, and places me in an awkward position.”