"Well, I'm going to begin with the parrot. That's what I got him for."
"Stew him first day. What'll you do next?"
"I decline to talk with you," said Cynthia, twisting huffily around on the old red plush cushion. "William may be very rich some day. His great aunt was a Schuyler. He has a share in the Belleville copper mines."[B]
[B] It has been rumoured lately that there is a project on foot to resume the working of these mines.—Author.
"You still have faith in them, have you? Now, Miss Archer, let me tell you——"
Plim! Splash! The water was dashed through the open stern ports.
"What was that?" said Cynthia, rising. "A whale or a hurricane?" And then, as she sat looking questioningly at me, we heard a report. The report of a gun. This was followed by the pounding of the Skipper's feet on the deck above our heads. Cynthia ran out of the cabin door and up the companion way to the poop. I heard her calling as she went: "Don't be afraid, Uncle Tony! I'm coming."
"Where's Jones?" I heard him growl, as I followed close at his heels.
"Fainted away in the cabin."
"Damn coward!"