“Oh, nothin'. A book, that's all.”
“Let me look at it.”
Josiah hesitated, looked as if he would like to refuse, and then sullenly took the ragged volume from his pocket and handed it to the Captain, who deliberately unfolded it, and looked at the cover.
“'Fightin' Fred Starlight, the Boy Rover of the Pacific,'” he read aloud. “Humph! Is it good?”
“Bet your life! It's a red-hot story.”
“I want to know! Who was Mr. Moonshine—what's his name—Starlight?”
“He was a sailor,” was the sulky answer. Josiah was no fool, and knew when he was being made fun of.
The Captain opened the book, and read a page or two to himself. Then he said, “I see he knocked the skipper down 'cause he insulted him. Nice, spunky chap; I'd like to have had him aboard a vessel of mine. And he called the old man a 'caitiff hound'? Awful thing to call a feller, that is. I'll bet that skipper felt ashamed. Looks like a good book. I'll borrow it to-night to read while you're doin' your lessons.”
“I ain't got any lessons to do.”
“Oh, ain't you? I thought that was a 'rithmetic over there.”