triumph.

Lucy smiled. She liked his daring; she liked, too,
his resources. When a thing was to be done, Bart
always found the way to do it. She waited until
he had fitted the new bright key into the rusty lock,
her hand in his.

"Now, come inside," he cried, swinging wide the
big doors. "Isn't it a jolly place?" He slipped
his arm about her and drew her to him. "See,
there's the stove with the kindling-wood all ready
to light when anything comes ashore, and up on that
shelf are life-preservers; and here's a table and some
stools and a lantern--two of 'em; and there's the big
life-boat, all ready to push out. Good place to come
Sundays with some of the fellows, isn't it? Play
all night here, and not a soul would find you out,"
he chuckled as he pointed to the different things.
"You didn't think, now, I was going to have a
cubby-hole like this to hide you in where that old
spot-cat Martha can't be watching us, did you?"
he added, drawing her toward him and again kissing
her with a sudden intensity.

Lucy slipped from his arms and began examining
everything with the greatest interest. She had never
seen anything but the outside of the house before
and she always wondered what it contained, and as
a child had stood up on her toes and tried to peep