"All I got is a wonderful pa," says he. "My ma died long, long ago. Didn't she, Anthony Lot? An' my pa's sailin' foreign parts jus' now. Isn't he, Anthony Lot? I might get a letter from un by the next mail-boat. No tellin' when a letter will come. Anytime at all—maybe next boat. An' my pa might turn up here hisself. Mightn't he, Anthony Lot? Might turn up right here in Hide-an'-Seek Harbor without givin' me the least word o' warnin'. Any day at all, too. Eh, Anthony Lot?"
"Skipper of a steam vessel in the South American trade," says Anthony.
"Any day at all?"
"Plyin' out o' Rio, I'm told."
"Eh, Anthony Lot? Any day at all?"
Anthony grinned at me in a way I'd no taste for. "Any day at all," says he t' the lad. "You got it right, Sammy."
"Ol' Sandy Spot is fetchin' me up," says the lad, "'til my pa comes home. It don't cost my pa a copper, neither. Ol' Sandy Spot is fetchin' me up jus' for my pa's sake. That's what comes o' havin' a pa like the pa I got. Don't it, Anthony Lot?"
"I 'low so, Sammy; jus' for your pa's sake—an' the Gov'ment stipend, too."
What slur was hid in that sly whisper about the Gov'ment stipend escaped the lad.
"Ah-ha!" he crowed.