looks from the group of kinsmen, was visibly pleased with his joke.
Archer turned to Kellum. The old captain was not much hurt; in fact, after Helen's ministration he seemed almost neat, and looked up with sage and weatherbeaten resignation. They fell into the friendly talk of allies, in which Archer caught, by the light of many a homely phrase, glimpses of how Peter had played for time, played with craft and force, delaying, desperately delaying, the drunken crew in the harbor. Yes, it all strengthened what he himself had been thinking.
"He's a good lad. Blue Peter," said the old man, stanching his cut with gingerly dabs of Helen's handkerchief. "We call him that for a joke. He's a good lad, the only one o' the lot, an' he 'll be goin' away now, he tells me. He seems dretful cut up about the boy. Well, they 'll most all be goin' in a month, fer the winter. It's only a summer camp,—'cep' fer a few of us, the devil's orts, that has to stay all the year round."
"Captain Kellum," asked Archer suddenly,
