ermined to make the best of it.

"All right," he answered cheerfully.

"I'll be responsible for any trouble that comes, so don't you worry."

"You're not in New York now, Cal," Stuart said with a grunt. "You may
own the earth, but the sea still has a way of its own."

"Good Lord, man, I could walk back to the yacht at low water, it all
goes bare."

"Yes, unless the wind hauls in to the northeast and rolls in a big tide
through that inlet."

"All right, let her roll. The tender will come back and pull us in."

By the time the decoys were out it began to spit snow, and the wind had
freshened.

As the sailor was about to start back, Stuart spoke sharply:

"Listen to me now, Niels."

The Norwegian tipped his cap and stood at attention.

"Yes, sir!"

"Keep a sharp watch on this weather. If you see the wind haul to the
north, put a compass in your tender, take your bearing from the yacht
to this blind, in case it should shut in thick, and come after us in
double-quick time. You understand?"

"Yes sir."

"If it looks bad, don't wait too long."

"I'll watch it, sir," was the prompt response, as he stooped to start
his wheel.

"And Niels!" Stuart called again. "If it should be blowing a gale you'd
better bring the cook along to steer while you watch your engine. Have
him fix a light supper before he starts.

"Aye, aye, sir!" he cried, as the little craft shot away, leaving a
streak of white foam in her wake.

Bivens was vastly amused at Stuart's orders.

"Jim, you're as fussy as an old maid. You ought to marry and join the
human race."

Stuart scanned the horizon, watching a flock of ducks working their way
northward. The sign was ominous. Birds know which way the wind is going
to blow before it comes, and if a gale is on the way they always work
into the teeth of it. They are all equipped with barometers somewhere
inside their little brain-cells.

It was useless to tell this to Bivens. He didn't have sense enough to
understand it. But he quietly made up his mind to take up the decoys
and row in as soon as the tide ebbed down to two feet of water.

In the meantime he would make the best of the situation. The ducks
began to come in and decoy like chickens. He killed half a dozen and in
the excitement began to forget the foolhardiness of the trip.

Bivens shot a dozen times, missed, got disgusted and began to fret and
complain.

At first Stuart made no answer to his nagging suggestions until Bivens