The two lads stretched themselves out on top the cabin and awaited his return.
"Do you like the life ?" Joe broke silence.
The other turned on his elbow.

"Well--I do, and then again I don't.

The fresh air, and the salt water, and all that, and the freedom--that 's all right; but I don't like the--the--" He paused a moment, as though his tongue had failed in its duty, and then blurted out: "the stealing." "Then why don't you quit it ?" Joe liked the lad more than he dared confess to himself, and he felt a sudden missionary zeal come upon him.
"I will just as soon as I can turn my hand to something else." "But why not now ?" _Now is the accepted time_ was ringing in Joe's ears, and if the other wished to leave, it seemed a pity that he did not, and at once.
"Where can I go?
What can I do?
There 's nobody in all the world to lend me a hand, just as there never has been.

I tried it once, and learned my lesson too well to do it again in a hurry." "Well, when I get out of this I 'm going home.

Guess my father was right, after all.