Let me see the contents of your pockets."
"Oh, Father!" gasped Russ.
"Aren't afraid, are you, Russ?" asked Daddy Bunker. "If you weren't
afraid to take the food you needn't be afraid to show it."
"It--it was all mine," said Russ, stammeringly. "I only took what was
passed to me."
"I know it," said Daddy. "That is one reason why I want to know the
rights of this mystery. I can't have my son starving himself for the
sake of feeding a sea-eagle."
"Oh! It isn't the eagle, Daddy."
"What is it, then?"
"It--it isn't an it at all!" exclaimed Russ Bunker and he was so very
much worried that he was almost in tears.
"What do you mean?" asked his father.
"I--I can't tell you," Russ faltered. "It isn't about me at all. It's
somebody else, and I oughtn't to tell you, Daddy."
CHAPTER X
CHARLESTON AND THE FLEET
A boy hates to tell on another person if he is the right kind of boy.
And Russ was the right kind of boy.
Daddy Bunker knew this; so he did not scold. He just said quietly:
"Very well, my boy. If you are mixed up in something of which you cannot
tell your father, but which you are sure is all right, then go ahead. I
am always ready to advise and help you, but if you are sure you do not
need my advice, go ahead."
He turned quietly away. But these words and his cheerful acceptance of
Russ' way of thinking rather startled the boy, used as he was to Daddy
Bunker's ways.
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