“Mother, there’s a yacht in our bay.”
“A yacht, Mark?”
“Yes, and a beauty. She’s the largest pleasure craft I ever saw.”
“But how did she get there, my son?”
“I played pilot, mother, and ran her in, and just in time, too.”
“Those on board were indeed fortunate in finding so good a pilot near at hand, Mark; but tell me of it, for this is an ugly night for such work.”
Mark told his story in his modest way, taking no credit to himself, and then added:
“Now they wanted to make a hero of me, mother, and pay me for my services, offering me a purse, and it was a well-filled one, too.”
“Which you, of course, refused?” quickly said the mother.
“Oh, of course he did, for he’d refuse money if he hadn’t two coppers to jingle together in his pocket,” growled Peggy.