on his face across the table _if_ he wished to think some
splendid adventure with all these friends? "Not a bit o' difference!" he
declared. "Not a bit!" Big Tom had been able to tie fast his feet and
hands; but in spite of that Johnnie could go wherever he pleased!

His wound-darkened, tear-stained face lit with that old, radiant smile.
"Big Tom can't tie my thinks!" he boasted. He was out of his body now,
and up on his feet, looking into the faces of all those book friends.
"So let's take a ship--your ship, Jim Hawkins! Ye-e-eh, let's take the
_Hispaniola_, and sail, and sail! Where? The 'Cific Ocean? 'R t' Cathay?
'R where?" Then he knew! "Say! we'll take a 'stronomy trip!" he
announced.

In one swift moment how gloriously arranged it all was! Halfway across
the kitchen floor, here were wonderful marble steps--steps guarded on
either side by a stone lion! The steps led up to a terrace that was
rather startlingly like Father Pat's description of the terrace below
the great New York Public Library; yet it was not the Library terrace,
since there was no building at the farther side of it. No, this wide,
granite-floored space was nothing less than a grand wharf.

Up to it Johnnie bounded in his brown shoes--and a new think-uniform
fully as handsome as the one Big Tom had thrust into the stove. On the
step next to the top one, some one was waiting--a person dressed in
work-clothes, with big, soiled hands, and an unshaven face. This
individual seemed to know that he was out of place and looking his
worst, for his manner was apologetic, and downcast. He implored Johnnie
with sad eyes.

It was Big Tom!

How beautiful the terrace wharf was, with its balustrades, and its
fountains, and its giant vases, these last holding flowers which were as
large as trees! And how deliciously cool was the breeze that swept
against Johnnie's face from the vast air ocean stretching across the
roofs! At the very center of the terrace was the place of honor. There
Johnnie took his stand.

He glanced round at the longshoreman. "No, we don't want y' on this
trip," he said firmly. He felt in a pocket for a five-cent piece, found
it, and tossed it to Barber. "Go and buy y'rself a lemon soda," he bade
kindly. "Hurry and git away, 'cause some folks is comin'."

Poor Barber! In spite of all he had done, it was almost pitiful to
observe how disappointed he was at this order, for he yearned to be
included in the approaching, and thrilling, advent