“Well,” said Bart, “if that isn’t a stick, I should like to know what you call one.”
“O, you’ll know—you’ll know in time,” said Captain Corbet, whose air of mystery now returned, and made the boys more anxious than ever to find out the cause.
“If it isn’t a stick, what is it?” asked Bruce.
“Wal—it ain’t a stick, thar.”
“What is it, then?”
“It’s—a—ROD,” said Captain Corbet, slowly and impressively.
“A rod? Well, what then? Isn’t a rod a stick?”
“No, sir, not by a long chalk. Besides, this here’s a very pecooliar rod.” #
“How’s that?”
Captain Corbet rose, went to the door, looked on every side with eager scrutiny, then returned, and looked mysteriously at the boys; then he stepped nearer; then he bent down his head; and finally he said, in an eager and piercing whisper,—