Читать книгу Midshipman Merrill онлайн

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“And the hull has no shape to it,” said another.

“Just look at the rake of the masts.”

“And the cut of her bow.”

“Whoever saw such a stern on anything but a mudscow.”

“If you do not wish to purchase the boat, Scott Clemmons, give it back to me,” said Mark Merrill, suppressing his anger.

“I’ll buy her, if she can stand a cyclone, sea cub,” said Scott Clemmons insolently.

“Let’s see if she can, Scott,” another said.

“All right, Birney, hold out your arm.”

The youth addressed held his arms out firmly on a level, and whirling suddenly around, with the boat grasped in both hands, he brought it with full force close to the deck against the outstretched arms of Ben Birney.

The result was the wreck of the toy ship, for the masts were broken, the decks swept clean.

But quickly as the act had been done, the movements of the young sailor were quicker, for once, twice, his blows fell full in the faces of the two destroyers, and they dropped their length upon the pavement.

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