DICK and Henry did not go directly back, and it was mid-afternoon when they reached the pier. As they walked down the incline from the road, Dick's eyes strayed toward the house on stilts. The _Captain_ lay with nose in the sand, and beside her, evidently just back from a sail, stood Annie with two of the students who came on bright days to rent Captain Fargo's boats. They were having a jolly time,--he could hear Annie laughing at some sally from the taller student,--and they had no eye for the two sailors on the pier. Once, as they walked out, Dick's hand went up to his hat; but he was mistaken, she had not seen him. And so he watched her until the lumber piles, on the broad outer end of the pier, shut off the view; and Henry watched him. Dick hardly heard what his cousin said when they parted. He leaped down to the deck of the _Merry Anne_, and plunged moodily into the box of an after cabin. His men, excepting Pink Harper, who was somewhere up forward devouring a novel, were on shore; so that there was no one to observe him standing there by the little window gazing shoreward. Finally, after much chatting and lingering, the two students sauntered away. Annie turned back to make her boat fast; and Dick, in no cheerful frame of mind, came hurrying shoreward. She saw him leap down from pier to sand, and gave him a wave of the hand; then, seeing that he was heading toward her, she turned and awaited him. “Come, Dick, I want you to pull the _Captain_ higher up.” Dick did as he was bid, without a word. And then, with a look and tone that told her plainly what was to come next, he asked, “What are you going to do now?” “I guess I 'll have to see if mother wants me. I've been sailing ever since dinner.” “You haven't any time for me, then?” “Why, of course I have,--lots of it. But I can't see you all the while.” “No, I suppose you can't--not if you go sailing with those boys.” Annie's mischievous nature leaped at the chance this speech gave her. “They aren't boys, Dick; Mr. Beveridge is older than most of the students. He told me all about himself the other day.” “Oh, he did.” “Yes. He was brought up on a farm, and he has had to work his way through school. When he first came here, he got off the train with only just three dollars and a half in his pocket, and he didn't have any idea where he was going to get his next dollar. I think it's pretty brave of a man to work as hard as that for an education.” Dick could say nothing. Most of _his_ education had come in through his pores. “I like Mr. Wilson, too.” “He is the other one, I suppose?” Dick, his eyes fixed on the sand, did not catch the mirthful glance that was shot at him after these words. And her voice, friendly and unconscious, told him nothing. “Yes, he is Mr. Beveridge's friend. They room together.” “Well, I hope they enjoy it.” “Now, Dick, what makes you so cross? When you are such a bear, it wouldn't be any wonder if I didn't want to see you.”