know things, too. What you going to do with that boy, Mr. Scrape? I like
to know that. You tell me, and perhaps you hear something about the
shells, who know?"

The old man's face darkened into a very ugly look.

"My name is Scraper, thank ye, not Scrape!" he said, dryly; "and as for
the boy, I don't know exactly where you come in there."

The Skipper nodded. "True!" he said, tracing with his finger the fine
lines of the Voluta Aulica; "you do not know where I come in there. In
us both, knowledge has a limit, Mr. Scraper; yet I at the least am
acquaint with your name. It is a fine name you have there,--Endymion!
You should be a person of poetry, with this and your love for shells,
hein? You love, without doubt, to gaze on the moon, Sir Scraper? You
feel with her a connection, yes?"

"What the dickens are you talking about?" asked the old gentleman,
testily. "How much do you want to swindle me out of for this Junonia,
hey? not that I shall buy it, mind ye!"

"Three hundred!" said the Skipper; "and a bargain at that!"




CHAPTER V.

MYSTERY.