"Tell me, Captain," says Mrs. Mumford impulsive, "have you not led a
most romantic life?"
Rupert rolls his eyes at her quick, then steadies 'em down and blinks
solemn. Kind of weird, starey eyes, them buttermilk blue panes of his
are.
"I--I don't say much about it, as a rule," says he, droppin' his
eyelids modest.
"There!" exclaims Mrs. Mumford. "I just knew it was so. One daring
adventure after another, I suppose, with no thought of fear."
"Oh, I've been afraid plenty of times," says Rupert, "but somehow I--
Well, I've gone on."
"Isn't he splendid?" asks Mrs. Mumford, turnin' to us. "Just like a
hero in a book! But we would like to know from the very beginning. As
a boy, now?"
"There wasn't much," protests Rupert. "You see, I lived in a little
town in southern Illinois. Father ran a general store. I had to help
in it--sold shingle nails, molasses, mower teeth, overalls. How I
hated that! But there was the creek and the muck pond. I had an old
boat. I played smuggler and pirate. I used to love to read pirate
books. I wanted to go to sea."
"So you ran away and became a sailor," adds Mrs. Mumford, clappin' her
hands enthusiastic.
"I planned to lots of times," says Rupert, "but father made me go
through the academy.
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