‘Who cooks all these rations you tell about?’ asked the darky at last. ‘Why――’ Pud’s gaze wandered to the distant horizon――‘any of us. You could if you liked, Harmon.’ Harmon wiggled five toes against the dirt and observed them thoughtfully. Pud and Tim exchanged anxious glances. ‘I get my meals for nothin’, don’ I?’ Harmon inquired. ‘Sure! And a bed to sleep in――that is, a――a place to sleep; and nothing to do but have a good time!’ Harmon’s face lighted slowly and two rows of white teeth flashed. ‘Can I run the boat sometimes?’ he asked. ‘Of course you can,’ said Pud magnanimously. ‘And steer it, too.’ ‘All right,’ decided Harmon. ‘You tell me when you want me an’ I’ll be there.’ ‘That’s fine,’ declared Tim, ‘but what about your father, Harmon? Or your mother? Think they’ll let you go?’ Harmon nodded untroubledly. ‘Boun’ to,’ he said. The boys continued their journey elatedly. ‘I didn’t say anything about being pirates,’ explained Pud, ‘because I didn’t want to scare him. Maybe he wouldn’t want to go if he knew. Darkies are awfully scarey, you know.’ ‘Say, wait a minute,’ exclaimed Tim suspiciously. ‘What’s all this about being pirates? What do you mean pirates?’ ‘Why, you know what a pirate is, don’t you?’ replied Pud evasively. ‘Sure, but there aren’t any pirates these days, so how can we be them?’ ‘Aren’t any pirates, eh?’ said Pud derisively. ‘I guess you don’t know much about them. Didn’t you ever hear of river pirates?’ Tim shook his head. ‘I’ve heard of oyster pirates.’ ‘Huh, they ain’t real pirates. River pirates are just like the pirates of the Caribbean. That’s what we’re going to be.’ ‘What do we do?’ asked Tim uneasily. ‘Why, we――well, we just be pirates! Of course we don’t murder folks, but we――we do other things.’ ‘Such as what?’ persisted his chum. ‘Well――’ Pud’s gaze became far-away and sort of glassy. ‘Maybe we’ll sack a town and carry off its treasures. And board a merchant craft and capture her. And hang the captain to the――’ ‘Rats!’ said Tim. ‘You can’t hang a man without murdering him, can you? All right, I’ll be a pirate of the Cabirean, just as long as it’s only play――’ ‘Caribbean, you idiot. And it isn’t only play, either. At least, not――well, you never know what’s going to happen!’ And Pud stared darkly into the muddy waters of Town Creek as they tramped across the footbridge. Mr. Daley was surprisingly complaisant when they found him. He was a tall, large-boned man with only a trace of the Irish in features and talk. He stopped planing down the edge of a board while Tim and Pud explained the nature of their errand and observed them with deep-set, kindly gray eyes. ‘Why, now,’ he said at last, ‘it’s mighty kind of your father, Pud, and I guess Tim would enjoy it fine. You’d be gone no more’n a week, eh? Well, I’ll be missing the boy, but that’s nothing if he wants to go. But I’m warning you fair, Tim, if you get drowned, I’ll whale the life out of you so soon’s I get my hands on you!’