ON THE "DAUNTLESS"
Breakfast on the following morning was quite late. Only a series of wild whoops and yells, which almost scared Sam Bins out of his senses, had served to awaken Dave Brandon, and he protested vigorously.
"Why can't you let a fellow sleep?" he grumbled. "It's only eleven hours ago that I tumbled into bed."
"Nine o'clock, nine o'clock!" called Sam, laughingly. "Do you want to sleep all day?"
"Yes, Sam—you've struck it exactly. Think I will," and Dave tried to lock the door.
But three sturdy shoulders proved too much, and he capitulated.
A tour of the grounds followed their meal. To the east of Rickham House was a large, level field, and on reaching it Sam Randall uttered an exclamation.
"As I live, a regular diamond!" he said. "Crickets, isn't this fine?"
"Well, I should say so," put in Dick.
"Uncle Isaac was always great on baseball," explained Bob. "Played a good bit himself—centre field, I think. Well, I suppose he managed to have a game here, once in a while. But, come on, fellows, let's take a look at the boats."