"I mean _me_," he said. "I was home from Camp Dix on a short leave and was on my way to see the old gent and the rest of the folks, when who should I run plunk into but that old water rat. It was five o'clock in the morning, and I was just taking a hop, skip and a jump off the train. 'Come on down the bay fishing,' he says. 'What, in these togs?' I told him. 'I'll get 'em all greased up and what'll Uncle Sam say?' 'Go home and get some old ones,' he said. ''Gainst the rules,' I said, 'can't be running around in civilized clothes.' 'You should worry about civilized clothes,' he said. 'Go up to your dad's old house-boat in the marshes and get some fishin' duds on--the locker's full of 'em.' 'Thou hast said something,' I told him; 'go and get your old scow ready and I'm with you.'" Then he hit me a good rap on the shoulder and said, "So you see how it was, kiddo? Instead of going home to hear how handsome I looked, I just beat it up that creek and fished this suit of greasy rags out of one of the lockers. There was a key in the padlock and I just took off my uniform and stuffed it in the locker and beat it over to Little Landing in Bridgeboro." "You locked the padlock and took the key, didn't you?" I said. "Righto," he said, "and I thought I'd be back that same night and down to Dix again by morning. See? But instead of that, here I am and blamed near a week gone by and Uncle Sam on the hunt for me. A nice pickle I'm in. What do you say?" "Gee, I wouldn't want to be you," I said; "anyway, I'm sorry for you. But I don't see why you didn't go back like you said." Then he went over to the railing and looked all around in a hurry. "I guess they won't be back for an hour yet," I told him; "they went to the movies." So he came back and sat down beside me again and began talking very excited, as if I was kind of a friend of his, the way he talked. You know what I mean. And, cracky, any fellow would be glad to be a friend of his, that's sure, even if he _was_ kind of reckless and--you know. He said, "I had so many adventures, old top, that I couldn't tell 'em to you. Jakey and I have Robinson Crusoe tearing his hair from jealousy. Kiddo, this last week has been a whole sea story; in itself-- just one hair's-breadth escape after another. Ever read _Treasure Island?_" "_Did I!_" I said. Then he said, "Well _Treasure Island_ is like a church social compared to what I've been through. Some day I'm going to tell you about it." I said, "I wish you'd tell me now."