They bade the captain good-bye, and
turned their pony's head homeward quite disconsolate.
"I'll write and tell him to come home if he's not going to do anything,"
said Roy, with his little mouth pursed up determinedly.
"We'll give him a chance, first. He may go out to fight. Captain
Smalley didn't say for certain."
"I think Captain Smalley is funky himself about fighting, that's what I
think!"
And with this disdainful assertion Roy dismissed the subject.
XIII
OLD PRINCIPLE
It was a soft, mild day in December. Mr. Selby's study seemed close and
stifling to the boys as they sat up at the long table with books and
slates before them, and a blazing fire behind their backs.
"This sum won't come right, Mr. Selby," groaned Roy; "and I've gone over
it three times. It is made up of nothing but eights and nines. I hate
nine. I wish it had never been made. Who made up figures, Mr. Selby?"
Roy's questions were rather perplexing at lesson time.
"I will tell you all about that another time," was Mr. Selby's reply.
"Have another try, my boy: never let any difficulty master you, if you
can help it."
A knock at the door, and Mr. Selby was summoned to some parishioner.
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