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"Who?" I cried. "What! You don't mean to say--was that Lieutenant Ferry?"

"We smuggled it through!" chanted the trio, ready to weep for virtuous joy. And then they clasped arms like the graces, about their aunt, and let her speak.

A sweet color was I. "Yes, that's what I said; Cockerel. Isn't your last name Cockerel?"

"If I tell you that," said the Captain, "you won't like me the least bit."

I turned upon her choking with anger, but her melting beauty rendered me helpless. Black woods were on our left. "Shall we turn in here?" I asked.

He spurted a pint to reply, "Fishe's batt'ry."

When I said I would try she looked distressfully unassured and I added "I'll do whatever risks no life but mine."

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