Upon a sort of porch overhead, two of the crew paced up and down in a manner that at once suggested the poop.

Here and there was a gleam of highly polished red copper or brass trimmings.

The bay was within two steps of the front door, while a little further down the beach was the house where the surf-boat was kept, and the long runway leading down from it to the water.

Condy rapped loudly at the front door.

It was opened by Captain Jack.
Captain Jack, and no other; only now he wore a blue sweater and a leather-visored cap, with the letters U.S.L.B.S.