The older man did not watch his progress. His brown, lined face was
bent again over his task.

Rufus the Red drew near and paused. "Want anything?"

He spoke from his chest, in a voice like a deep-toned bell. His arms
hung slack at his sides, but the muscles stood out on them like ropes.

The coxswain of the lifeboat gave his head a brief, upward jerk without
looking at him. "That curly-topped chap staying at The Ship," he said,
"he came messing round after me this morning, wanted to know would I
take him out with the nets one day. I told him maybe you would."

"What did you do that for?" said Rufus.

The coxswain shot him a brief and humorous glance. "I always give you
the plums if I can, my boy," he said. "I said to him, 'Me and my son,
we're partners. Going out with him is just the same as going out with
me, and p'raps a bit better, for he's got the better boat.' So he
sheered off, and said maybe he'd look you up in the evening."

"Maybe I shan't be there," commented Rufus.

The coxswain chuckled, and lashed out an end of rope, narrowly missing
his son's brawny legs. "He's not such a soft one as he looks, that
chap," he observed. "Not by no manner of means. Do you know what
Columbine thinks of him?"

"How should I know?" said Rufus.