"O Ransom's older, you know; and he's a boy."

"Ransom don't know his advantages. This is pleasant, Daisy. Now let us
see. What were you and I about?"

"You were telling me something, Capt. Drummond."

"What was it? O I know. Daisy, you are under arrest, you know, and
sentenced to extra duty. The work you are to perform, is to gather as
many of these little pebbles together--these white ones--as you can in
five minutes."

Daisy went to work; so did the Captain; and very busy they were, for the
Captain gathered as many pebbles as she did. He made her fetch them to a
place where the little beach was clean and smooth, and in the shadow of
an overhanging tree they both sat down. Then the Captain throwing off
his cap, began arranging the white pebbles on the sand in some
mysterious manner--lines of them hero and lines of them there--whistling
as he worked. Daisy waited with curious patience; watched him closely,
but never asked what he was doing. At last he stopped, looked up at her,
and smiled.

"Well!--" he said.

"What is it all, Capt. Drummond?"

"This is your story, Daisy."

"My story!"