The middle of the cabin was taken up by the center-board and the Poet pointed out a shelf which was made to fit over the center-board box and serve as a table. But there was one other thing which aroused Chub’s curiosity. On the bench just where the light from the hatchway fell upon it, was a pocket map spread out. Thinking that it was a sailing chart, Chub leaned over to examine it. It proved, however, to be a map of the country thereabouts, and the words Silver Cove stared him in the face. The map had been ruled with pencil into squares about half an inch each way and many of these squares had been filled in with pencil strokes until the map around the words Silver Cove was checkered with dark spaces. Chub had time to see no more, for Billy Noon reached past him and, taking the map, deftly folded it and tossed it carelessly on top of the few books, inviting them to be seated. But they had seen all there was to be seen and so they filed out on to deck again, Harry declaring ecstatically that it must be beautiful to live in a boat, and asking Billy how he managed to sail it when he was asleep. She and Chub found themselves back on the sand before the others and she seized the opportunity to whisper hurriedly in Chub’s ear. “Let’s ask him to supper,” she said. “Shall we?” And seeing his hesitation, she added: “Why, he hasn’t a thing to eat! Just look, Chub!” And Chub looked and relented. And so the Licensed Poet was invited and he accepted instantly. They waited while he gathered his few things together and returned them to the _Minerva_, closing and locking the hatch after him. Then he drew on his coat and the four went on. Presently Chub found himself walking beside Billy, Harry and her father having lost ground because it was necessary that the former should see the view from Gull Point. “Say,” asked Chub suddenly, “what were you reaching for when we came up?” Billy darted a swift glance at him. Then he answered: “My handkerchief. I’d been making the fire and my hands weren’t very clean, you know.” “Do you carry your handkerchief in your hip pocket?” asked Chub skeptically. “When I haven’t my coat on,” replied the other. “I guess it’s there yet; I don’t think I’ve taken it out. Yes, here it is.” And he reached back to his hip pocket and drew it forth. “Oh,” said Chub, looking a little foolish. “I thought--” He hesitated. “You thought,” said Billy, his blue eyes sparkling with good-natured raillery, “that I was going to ‘pull a gun’ and blow holes in you. Wasn’t that it?” “Well, it looked as though you were reaching for a revolver.” “Did it? You’re too suspicious,” laughed the other. “I’ll confess you startled me, but I’m a more peaceable chap than you give me credit for being.” There was a moment’s silence. Then Billy laughed softly. “Say,” he asked, “do you know what I was doing when you folks came along?” Chub shook his head.