It was after eight o'clock when Mrs. Snow, having finished washing the dishes--she allowed no one to assist her in this operation since the time when she caught Captain Jerry absent-mindedly using the dust rag instead of the dishcloth--went upstairs to her patient. Shortly afterward Elsie came down, wearing her hat and jacket. “I'm going out for a little while,” she said. “No, I don't want anyone to go with me. I'll be back soon.” Her back was turned to the three captains as she spoke, but, as she opened the door, the lamplight shone for an instant on her face, and Captain Eri noticed, or fancied that he did, that she was paler than usual. He rose, and again offered to accompany her, but met with such a firm refusal that he could not insist further. “Now, that's kind of funny, ain't it?” remarked Perez. “I don't b'lieve she's been out alone afore after dark sence she's been here.” “Where did you git that letter, Josiah?” asked Captain Eri. It may as well be explained here that Captain Perez' grand-nephew was a thorn in the flesh to everyone, including his indulgent relative. He was a little afraid of Mrs. Snow, and obeyed her better than he did anyone else, but that is not saying a great deal. He was in mischief in school two-thirds of the time, and his reports, made out by the teacher, were anything but complimentary. He was a good-looking boy, the image of his mother, who had been her uncle's favorite, and he was popular with a certain class of youngsters. Also, and this was worse, his work at the livery stable had thrown him in contact with a crowd of men like “Squealer” Wixon, “Web” Saunders, and others of their class, and they appreciated his New York street training and made much of him. Captain Perez, mindful of his promise to the boy's mother, did not use the necessary measures to control him, and Captain Eri and Captain Jerry did not like to interfere. Just now he was seated in the corner, and he looked up with a start, hurriedly folded up the tattered paper book he was reading, stuffed it into his pocket, and said, “What?” “Who give you that letter that come for Elsie?” “Miss Cahoon up at the office. It was in our box,” said the boy. “Humph! What are you readin' that's so interestin'?” “Oh, nothin'. A book, that's all.” “Let me look at it.” Josiah hesitated, looked as if he would like to refuse, and then sullenly took the ragged volume from his pocket and handed it to the Captain, who deliberately unfolded it, and looked at the cover. “'Fightin' Fred Starlight, the Boy Rover of the Pacific,'” he read aloud. “Humph! Is it good?” “Bet your life! It's a red-hot story.” “I want to know! Who was Mr. Moonshine--what's his name--Starlight?” “He was a sailor,” was the sulky answer. Josiah was no fool, and knew when he was being made fun of.