"Pack away your books and come along, then. There's some one will be glad
to see you besides Benny's mother. Leave work till morning. I'll wager come
sun-up you'll be glad enough to get to your tasks if you've had a little
home life meanwhile. Come, lads, come."
Almost before we fully could realize what it meant, we were walking up to
the door of my own home, and there was my mother standing on the threshold,
and my sister, her face as pink now as it had been white on the day long
ago when she had heard that Roger was to sail as supercargo.
Many times more embarrassed than Roger, whom I never had suspected of such
shamelessness, I promptly turned my back on him and my sister; where upon
my father laughed aloud and drew me into the house. From the hall I saw
the dining-table laid with our grandest silver, and, over all, the
towering candle-sticks that were brought forth only on state occasions.
"And now, lads," said my father, when we sat before such a meal as only
returning prodigals can know, "what's this tale of mutiny and piracy with
which the town's been buzzing these two weeks past? Trash, of course."
"Why, sir, I think we've done the right thing," said Roger, "and yet I
can't say that it's trash.
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