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Rh to build her. Well, they're—they're sort of in my head, too, only—" he made a vague gesture—"only I can't draw them or anything." He grasped his father's sleeve excitedly. "I've got to know!" he said. "I've got to learn how!"

Caleb gave several vigorous and appreciative nods, but remained silent. Jim picked up his can.

"Yes," he agreed, "I think you'll have to learn how. And in the meantime, what about a knife of your own, less large and murderous than Caleb's?"

Garth let fall the goin's-in of the schooner—he had privately named her the Joan K.—to embrace his father, oil-can and all.