AT Manitowoc they picked up a load of laths and shingles, consigned to Grand Haven, and from there they went down to St. Joe, so that it was nearly a week before they returned to Liddington. During this time Bruce slunk about, working hard and drinking water.
On Saturday they lay ten miles off Liddington in a hazy calm. Billy, who was usually overworked as a matter of course, stretched out forward and went to sleep on the deck. Badeau sat on the rail by the wheel, grumbling—as a man will who has no resources within himself to turn idle hours to account. Bruce whittled a shingle. After a long time Badeau spoke.
“Look here, Bruce. What you going to do about that girl?”
“I dunno.”
“Don’t be a fool. Do you want to marry her?”
“She wouldn’t have me.”
“Say, look here. Why don’t you ask her?”
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