He made her fetch them to a place where the little beach was clean and smooth, and in the shadow of an overhanging tree they both sat down.

Then the Captain throwing off his cap, began arranging the white pebbles on the sand in some mysterious manner--lines of them hero and lines of them there--whistling as he worked.

Daisy waited with curious patience; watched him closely, but never asked what he was doing.

At last he stopped, looked up at her, and smiled.
"Well!--" he said.
"What is it all, Capt.

Drummond ?" "This is your story, Daisy." "My story!" "Yes.