dearly. They seemed so akin to him in their
wild freedom, in their love for the solitary waste of waters. Ever
since he could remember, he, too, had loved the sea, since the days
when he was a tiny boy, sailing his paper boats to strange ports
across the ocean. And tomorrow he was going to sea at last--a real
cabin boy in a real vessel! He threw himself back upon the warm sands
and with half-closed eyes lay dreaming of the future.

He was aroused from his day dreaming by the strange uneasiness that
comes to one who feels that he is being observed. Sitting up, he saw
that Ned Allison, a lad whose father owned a fishing shack near by,
had come down to the beach and was now standing over him, his hands
thrust into the pockets of his ragged trousers, his bare, brown toes
kicking among the pebbles at his feet. The newcomer was a few years
younger than Levy, a grave, stolid lad with bright, restless eyes.

"Hello, Ned," Uriah greeted him. "Did you know I was going to sea
tomorrow?"

"No. You're lucky." The other's tone was delightfully envious of
Uriah's good fortune. "I've got to wait till I'm twelve or maybe
fifteen, I guess. Father's rheumatism is bad lately and I have to help
him. How're you going?" He sank beside Uriah on the sands and gazed
longingly over the blue waters.

"I'm going to ship as cabin boy; but I won't be gone long." Uriah
couldn't help bragging a little as he told his good fortune. "I'm
going to be like Paul Jones and that crowd--if it takes a hundred
years."

"You'll be too old then," observed Ned dryly. He began to turn over
the heap of pebbles that lay between them. "Now if you were to find an
oyster or clam shell with several big pearls you could buy a ship of
your own right now and----"

"I'd make you first mate," promised Uriah, generously. Leaning on his
elbow, he too began to turn over the pebbles, for like every boy of
his years he never gave up hope of finding an oyster shell thickly
studded with pearls, each one milk-white and shining and worth a
king's ransom. "Yes," he went on, dreamily, "I'd rig out a brig right
away and sail the seas till I got tired. First, I guess, I'd clear
the Spanish Main of pirates and then I'd visit far-off countries
across the ocean. Remember what old Captain Ferguson told us about
'em; palm trees, and naked black men who'll sell you ivory and
precious stones for a string of beads or a piece of red cloth? That's
what I'd do if I had a ship of my own."

"I