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+Project Gutenberg Etext Thankful's Inheritance, by J. C. Lincoln
+#5 in our series by Joseph C. Lincoln
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+Title:  Thankful's Inheritance
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+Author:  Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+March, 2001  [Etext #2552]
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+Project Gutenberg Etext Thankful's Inheritance, by J. C. Lincoln
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+
+THANKFUL'S INHERITANCE
+
+by Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+The road from Wellmouth Centre to East Wellmouth is not a good one;
+even in dry weather and daylight it is not that.  For the first two
+miles it winds and twists its sandy way over bare hills, with
+cranberry swamps and marshy ponds in the hollows between.  Then it
+enters upon a three-mile stretch bordered with scrubby pines and
+bayberry thickets, climbing at last a final hill to emerge upon the
+bluff with the ocean at its foot.  And, fringing that bluff and
+clustering thickest in the lowlands just beyond, is the village of
+East Wellmouth, which must on no account be confused with South
+Wellmouth, or North Wellmouth, or West Wellmouth, or even Wellmouth
+Port.
+
+On a bright sunny summer day the East Wellmouth road is a hard one
+to travel.  At nine o'clock of an evening in March, with a howling
+gale blowing and rain pouring in torrents, traveling it is an
+experience.  Winnie S., who drives the East Wellmouth depot-wagon,
+had undergone the experience several times in the course of his
+professional career, but each time he vowed vehemently that he would
+not repeat it; he would "heave up" his job first.
+
+He was vowing it now.  Perched on the edge of the depot wagon's
+front seat, the reins leading from his clenched fists through the
+slit in the "boot" to the rings on the collar of General Jackson,
+the aged horse, he expressed his opinion of the road, the night, and
+the job.
+
+"By Judas priest!" declared Winnie S.--his name was Winfield Scott
+Hancock Holt, but no resident of East Wellmouth called him anything
+but Winnie S.--"by Judas priest!  If this ain't enough to make a
+feller give up tryin' to earn a livin', then I don't know!  Tell him
+he can't ship aboard a schooner 'cause goin' to sea's a dog's life,
+and then put him on a job like this!  Dog's life!  Judas priest!
+What kind of a life's THIS, I want to know?"
+
+From the curtain depths of the depot-wagon behind him a voice
+answered, a woman's voice:
+
+"Judgin' by the amount of dampness in it I should think you might
+call it a duck's life," it suggested.
+
+Winnie S. accepted this pleasantry with a grunt.  "I 'most wish I
+was a duck," he declared, savagely.  "Then I could set in three
+inches of ice-water and like it, maybe.  Now what's the matter with
+you?"  This last a roar to the horse, whose splashy progress along
+the gullied road had suddenly ceased.  "What's the matter with you
+now?" repeated Winnie.  "What have you done; come to anchor?
+Git dap!"
+
+But General Jackson refused to "git dap."  Jerks at the reins only
+caused him to stamp and evince an inclination to turn around.  Go
+ahead he would not.
+
+"Judas priest!" exclaimed the driver.  "I do believe the critter's
+drowndin'!  Somethin's wrong.  I've got to get out and see, I
+s'pose.  Set right where you be, ladies.  I'll be back in a minute,"
+adding, as he took a lighted lantern from beneath the seat and
+pulled aside the heavy boot preparatory to alighting, "unless I get
+in over my head, which ain't so dummed unlikely as it sounds."
+
+Lantern in hand he clambered clumsily from beneath the boot and
+disappeared.  Inside the vehicle was blackness, dense, damp and
+profound.
+
+"Auntie," said a second feminine voice, "Auntie, what DO you suppose
+has happened?"
+
+"I don't know, Emily.  I'm prepared for 'most anything by this time.
+Maybe we've landed on Mount Ararat.  I feel as if I'd been afloat
+for forty days and nights.  Land sakes alive!" as another gust shot
+and beat its accompanying cloudburst through and between the
+carriage curtains; "right in my face and eyes!  I don't wonder that
+boy wished he was a duck.  I'd like to be a fish--or a mermaid.  I
+couldn't be much wetter if I was either one, and I'd have gills so I
+could breathe under water.  I SUPPOSE mermaids have gills, I don't
+know."
+
+Emily laughed.  "Aunt Thankful," she declared, "I believe you would
+find something funny in a case of smallpox."
+
+"Maybe I should; I never tried.  'Twouldn't be much harder than to
+be funny with--with rain-water on the brain.  I'm so disgusted with
+myself I don't know what to do.  The idea of me, daughter and
+granddaughter of seafarin' folks that studied the weather all their
+lives, not knowin' enough to stay to home when it looked as much
+like a storm as it did this mornin'.  And draggin' you into it, too.
+We could have come tomorrow or next day just as well, but no,
+nothin' to do but I must start today 'cause I'd planned to.  This
+comes of figgerin' to profit by what folks leave to you in wills.
+Talk about dead men's shoes!  Live men's rubber boots would be worth
+more to you and me this minute.  SUCH a cruise as this has been!"
+
+It had been a hard trip, certainly, and the amount of water through
+which they had traveled the latter part of it almost justified its
+being called a "cruise."  Old Captain Abner Barnes, skipper, for the
+twenty years before his death, of the coasting schooner T. I.
+Smalley, had, during his life-long seafaring, never made a much
+rougher voyage, all things considered, than that upon which his last
+will and testament had sent his niece and her young companion.
+
+Captain Abner, a widower, had, when he died, left his house and land
+at East Wellmouth to his niece by marriage, Mrs. Thankful Barnes.
+Thankful, whose husband, Eben Barnes, was lost at sea the year after
+their marriage, had been living with and acting as housekeeper for
+an elderly woman named Pearson at South Middleboro.  She, Thankful,
+had never visited her East Wellmouth inheritance.  For four years
+after she inherited it she received the small rent paid her by the
+tenant, one Laban Eldredge.  His name was all she knew concerning
+him.  Then he died and for the next eight months the house stood
+empty.  And then came one more death, that of old Mrs. Pearson, the
+lady for whom Thankful had "kept house."
+
+Left alone and without present employment, the Widow Barnes
+considered what she should do next.  And, thus considering, the
+desire to visit and inspect her East Wellmouth property grew and
+strengthened.  She thought more and more concerning it.  It was
+hers, she could do what she pleased with it, and she began to
+formulate vague ideas as to what she might like to do.  She kept
+these ideas to herself, but she spoke to Emily Howes concerning the
+possibilities of a journey to East Wellmouth.
+
+Emily was Mrs. Barnes' favorite cousin, although only a second
+cousin.  Her mother, Sarah Cahoon, Thankful's own cousin, had
+married a man named Howes.  Emily was the only child by this
+marriage.  But later there was another marriage, this time to a
+person named Hobbs, and there were five little Hobbses.  Papa Hobbs
+worked occasionally, but not often.  His wife and Emily worked all
+the time.  The latter had been teaching school in Middleboro, but
+now it was spring vacation.  So when Aunt Thankful suggested the
+Cape Cod tour of inspection Emily gladly agreed to go.  The Hobbs
+house was not a haven of joy, especially to Mr. Hobbs' stepdaughter,
+and almost any change was likely to be an agreeable one.
+
+They had left South Middleboro that afternoon.  The rain began when
+the train reached West Ostable.  At Bayport it had become a storm.
+At Wellmouth Centre it was a gale and a miniature flood.  And now,
+shut up in the back part of the depot-wagon, with the roaring wind
+and splashing, beating rain outside, Thankful's references to fish
+and ducks and mermaids, even to Mount Ararat, seemed to Emily quite
+appropriate.  They had planned to spend the night at the East
+Wellmouth hotel and visit the Barnes' property in the morning.  But
+it was five long miles to that hotel from the Wellmouth Centre
+station.  Their progress so far had been slow enough.  Now they had
+stopped altogether.
+
+A flash of light showed above the top of the carriage boot.
+
+"Mercy on us!" cried Aunt Thankful.  "Is that lightnin'?  All we
+need to make this complete is to be struck by lightnin'.  No,
+'tain't lightnin', it's just the lantern.  Our pilot's comin' back,
+I guess likely.  Well, he ain't been washed away, that's one
+comfort."
+
+Winnie S., holding the lantern in his hand, reappeared beneath the
+boot.  Raindrops sparkled on his eyebrows, his nose and the point of
+his chin.
+
+"Judas priest!" he gasped.  "If this ain't--"
+
+"You needn't say it.  We'll agree with you," interrupted Mrs.
+Barnes, hastily.  "Is anything the matter?"
+
+The driver's reply was in the form of elaborate sarcasm.
+
+"Oh, no!" he drawled, "there wasn't nothin' the matter.  Just a few
+million pines blowed across the road and the breechin' busted and
+the for'ard wheel about ready to come off, that's all.  Maybe
+there's a few other things I didn't notice, but that's all I see."
+
+"Humph!  Well, they'll do for a spell.  How's the weather, any
+worse?"
+
+"Worse?  No! they ain't no worse made.  Looks as if 'twas breakin' a
+little over to west'ard, fur's that goes.  But how in the nation
+we'll ever fetch East Wellmouth, I don't know.  Git dap!  GIT DAP!
+Have you growed fast?"
+
+General Jackson pulled one foot after the other from the mud and the
+wagon rocked and floundered as its pilot steered it past the fallen
+trees.  For the next twenty minutes no one spoke.  Then Winnie S.
+breathed a sigh of thankfulness.
+
+"Well, we're out of that stretch of woods, anyhow," he declared.
+"And it 'tain't rainin' so hard, nuther.  Cal'late we can get to
+civilization if that breechin' holds and the pesky wheel don't come
+off.  How are you, in aft there; tolerable snug?"
+
+Emily said nothing.  Aunt Thankful chuckled at the word.
+
+"Snug!" she repeated.  "My, yes!  If this water was salt we'd be as
+snug as a couple of pickled mackerel.  How far off is this
+civilization you're talkin' about?"
+
+"Well, our hotel where you're bound is a good two mile, but there's--
+Judas priest! there goes that breechin' again!"
+
+There was another halt while the breeching underwent temporary
+repairs.  The wind blew as hard as ever, but the rain had almost
+stopped.  A few minutes later it stopped altogether.
+
+"There!" declared Winnie S.  "The fust mile's gone.  I don't know's
+I hadn't ought to stop--"
+
+Aunt Thankful interrupted.  "Stop!" she cried.  "For mercy sakes,
+don't stop anywheres unless you have to.  We've done nothin' but
+stop ever since we started.  Go on as far as you can while this--
+this machine of yours is wound up."
+
+But that was not destined to be far.  From beneath the forward end
+of the depot-wagon sounded a most alarming creak, a long-drawn,
+threatening groan.  Winnie S. uttered his favorite exclamation.
+
+"Judas priest!" he shouted.  "There goes that wheel!  I've, been
+expectin' it."
+
+He tugged at the right hand rein.  General Jackson, who, having been
+brought up in a seafaring community, had learned to answer his helm,
+swerved sharply from the road.  Emily screamed faintly.
+
+"Where are you goin'?" demanded Mrs. Barnes.
+
+The driver did not answer.  The groan from beneath the carriage was
+more ominously threatening than ever.  And suddenly the threat was
+fulfilled.  The depot-wagon jerked on for a few feet and then, with
+a crack, settled down to port in a most alarming fashion.  Winnie S.
+settled down with it, still holding tight to the reins and roaring
+commands to General Jackson at the top of his lungs.
+
+"Whoa!" he hollered.  "Whoa!  Stand still!  Stand still where you
+be!  Whoa!"
+
+General Jackson stood still.  Generally speaking he needed but one
+hint to do that.  His commander climbed out, or fell out, from
+beneath the boot.  The ground upon which he fell was damp but firm.
+
+"Whoa!" he roared again.  Then scrambling to his feet he sprang
+toward the wagon, which, the forward wheel detached and flat beneath
+it, was resting on the remaining three in a fashion which promised
+total capsizing at any moment.
+
+"Be you hurt?  Be you hurt?" demanded Winnie S.
+
+From inside, the tightly drawn curtains there came a variety of
+sounds, screams, exclamations, and grunts as of someone gasping for
+breath.
+
+"Be you hurt?" yelled the frantic Mr. Holt.
+
+It was the voice of the younger passenger which first made coherent
+reply.
+
+"No," it panted.  "No, I--I think I'm not hurt.  But Aunt Thankful--
+Oh, Auntie, are you--"
+
+Aunt Thankful herself interrupted.  Her voice was vigorous enough,
+but it sounded as if smothered beneath a heavy weight.
+
+"No, no," she gasped.  "I--I'm all right.  I'm all right.  Or I
+guess I shall be when you get--off of me."
+
+"Judas priest!" cried Winnie S., and sprang to the scene.  It was
+the younger woman, Emily, whom he rescued first.  She, being on the
+upper side of the tilted wagon, had slid pell-mell along the seat
+down upon the body of her companion.  Mrs. Barnes was beneath and
+getting her out was a harder task.  However, it was accomplished at
+last.
+
+"Mercy on us!" exclaimed the lady, as her companions assisted her to
+rise.  "Mercy on us!  I feel like a pancake.  I never knew you
+weighed so much, Emily Howes.  Well, that's all right and no bones
+broke.  Where are we now?  Why--why, that's a house, I do believe!
+We're in somebody's yard."
+
+They were, that was plain even on a night as dark as this.  Behind
+them, bordering the stretch of mud and puddles which they had just
+left, was the silhouette of a dilapidated picket fence; and in front
+loomed the shadowy shapes of buildings.
+
+"We're in somebody's yard," repeated Thankful.  "And there's a
+house, as sure as I live!  Well, I never thought I'd be so grateful
+just at the bare sight of one.  I'd begun to think I never would see
+a house again.  If we'd run afoul of a ship I shouldn't have been so
+surprised.  Come on, Emily!"
+
+She seized her companion by the hand and led the way toward the
+nearest and largest building.  Winnie S., having retrieved and
+relighted the overturned lantern, was inspecting the wreck of the
+depot-wagon.  It was some minutes before he noticed that his
+passengers had disappeared.  Then he set up a shout.
+
+"Hi!  Where you be?" he shouted.
+
+"Here," was the answer.  "Here, by the front door."
+
+"Hey?  Oh, all right.  Stay where you be.  I'll be there pretty
+soon."
+
+The "pretty soon" was not very soon.  Mrs. Barnes began to lose
+patience.
+
+"I ain't goin' to roost on this step till mornin'," she declared.
+"I'm goin' inside.  Ain't that a bell handle on your side of the
+door, Emily?  Give it a pull, for mercy sakes!"
+
+"But, Auntie--"
+
+"Give it a pull, I tell you!  I don't know who lives here and I
+don't care.  If 'twas the President of the United States he'd have
+to turn out and let us in this night.  Here, let me do it!"
+
+She gave the glass knob a sharp jerk.  From within sounded the
+jingle of an old-fashioned spring bell.
+
+"There!" she exclaimed, "I guess they'll hear that.  Anyway, I'll
+give 'em one more for good measure."
+
+She jerked the bell again.  The peal died away in a series of
+lessening tinkles, but there was no other sound from within.
+
+"They must be sound sleepers," whispered Emily, after a moment.
+
+"They must be dead," declared Thankful.  "There's been smashin' and
+crackin' and hollerin' enough to wake up anybody that wa'n't buried.
+How that wind does blow!  I--Hello! here comes that man at last.
+About time, I should say!"
+
+Winnie S. appeared, bearing the lantern.
+
+"What you doin'?" he asked.  "There ain't no use ringin' that bell.
+Nobody'll hear it."
+
+Thankful, who had just given the bell a third pull, took her hand
+from the knob.
+
+"Why not?" she demanded.  "It makes noise enough.  I should think a
+graven image would hear it.  What is this, a home for deaf people?"
+
+Winnie S. grinned.  "'Tain't nobody's home, not now," he said.
+"This house is empty.  Ain't nobody lived in it for 'most a year."
+
+The two women looked at each other.  Mrs. Barnes drew along breath.
+
+"Well," she observed, "if this ain't the last straw.  Such a cruise
+as we've had; and finally be shipwrecked right in front of a house
+and find it's an empty one!  Don't talk to ME!  Well," sharply,
+"what shall we do next?"
+
+The driver shook his head.
+
+"Dummed if I know!" he answered.  "The old wagon can't go another
+yard.  I--I cal'late you folks'll have to stay here for a spell."
+
+"Stay?  Where'll we stay; out here in the middle of this howlin'
+wilderness?"
+
+"I guess so.  Unless you want to walk the rest of the way, same's
+I'm cal'latin' to.  I'm goin' to unharness the horse and put him
+under the shed here and then hoof it over to the village and get
+somebody to come and help.  You can come along if you want to, but
+it'll be a tougher v'yage than the one we've come through."
+
+"How far off is this--this village of yours?"
+
+"Oh, about a mile and a half!"
+
+"A mile and a half!  And it's beginnin' to rain again!  Emily, I
+don't know how you feel, but if the horse can wait under the shed
+until somebody comes I guess we can.  I say let's do it."
+
+Emily nodded.  "Of course, Auntie," she said, emphatically.  "We
+couldn't walk a mile and a half in a storm like this.  Of course we
+must wait.  Where is the shed?"
+
+Winnie S. led the way to the shed.  It was a ramshackle affair, open
+on one side.  General Jackson, tethered to a rusty ring at the back,
+whinnied a welcome.
+
+The driver, holding the lantern aloft, looked about him.  His two
+passengers looked also.
+
+"Well," observed Thankful, "this may have been a shed once, but it's
+more like a sieve now.  There's more leaks to the roof than there is
+boards, enough sight.  However, any port in a storm, and we've got
+the storm, sartin.  All right, Mister What's-your-name, we'll wait."
+
+Winnie S. turned away.  Then he turned back again.
+
+"Maybe I'd better leave you the lantern," he said, doubtfully.  "I
+guess likely I could get along without it and--and 'twould make it
+more sociable for you."
+
+He put the lantern down on the earth floor beside them and strode
+off into the dark.  Mrs. Barnes called after him.
+
+"Ain't there any way of gettin' into that house?" she asked.  "It
+acts as if 'twas goin' to storm hard as ever and this shed ain't the
+most--what did you call it?--sociable place in creation, in spite of
+the lantern.  If we could only get inside that house--"
+
+Winnie S. interrupted.  They could not see him, but there was a
+queer note in his voice.
+
+"Get inside!" he repeated.  "Get into THAT house this time of night!
+Well--well, maybe you could, but I wouldn't do it, not for nothin'.
+You better wait in the shed.  I'll be back soon as ever I can."
+
+They heard him splashing along the road.  Then a gust of wind and a
+torrent of rain beating upon the leaky roof drowned all other
+sounds.  Emily turned to her companion.
+
+"Auntie," she said, "if you and I were superstitious we might think
+all this, all that we've been through, was what people call a sign,
+a warning.  That is what ever so many South Middleboro people would
+say."
+
+"Humph! if I believed in signs I'd have noticed the weather signs
+afore we started.  Those are all the 'signs' I believe in and I
+ought to have known better than to risk comin' when it looked so
+threatenin'.  I can't forgive myself for that.  However, we did
+come, and here we are--wherever 'here' is.  Now what in the world
+did that man mean by sayin' we better not try to get into that
+house?  I don't care what he meant.  Give me that lantern."
+
+"Auntie, where are you going?"
+
+"I'm goin' to take an observation of those windows.  Nine chances to
+one they ain't all locked, and if there's one open you and I can
+crawl into it.  I wish we could boost the horse in, too, poor thing,
+but self-preservation is the first law of nature and if he's liable
+to perish it's no reason we should.  I'm goin' to get into that
+house if such a thing's possible."
+
+"But, Auntie--"
+
+"Don't say another word.  I'm responsible for your bein' here this
+night, Emily Howes.  You wouldn't have come if I hadn't coaxed you
+into it.  And you shan't die of pneumonia or--or drownin' if I can
+help it.  I'm goin' to have a look at those doors and windows.
+Don't be scared.  I'll be back in a jiffy.  Goodness me, what a
+puddle!  Well, if you hear me holler you'll know I'm goin' under for
+the third time, so come quick.  Here goes!"
+
+Lantern in hand, she splashed out into the wet, windy darkness.
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Miss Howes, left to share with General Jackson the "sociability" of
+the shed, watched that lantern with faint hope and strong anxiety.
+She saw it bobbing like a gigantic firefly about the walls of the
+house, stopping here and there and then hurrying on.  Soon it passed
+around the further corner and disappeared altogether.  The wind
+howled, the rain poured, General Jackson stamped and splashed, and
+Emily shivered.
+
+At last, just as the watcher had begun to think some serious
+accident had happened to her courageous relative and was considering
+starting on a relief expedition, the lantern reappeared.
+
+"Emily!" screamed Mrs. Barnes.  "Emily!  Come here!"
+
+Emily came, fighting her way against the wind.  She found her cousin
+standing by the corner of the house.
+
+"I've got it," cried Aunt Thankful, panting but triumphant.  "I've
+got it.  One of the windows on the other side is unfastened, just as
+I suspicioned it might be.  I think one of us can get in if t'other
+helps."
+
+She seized the arm of her fellow castaway and together they turned
+the corner, struggled on for a short distance and then stopped.
+
+"This is the window," gasped the widow.  "Here, right abreast of us.
+See!"
+
+She held up the lantern.  The window was "abreast" of them, but also
+it was a trifle high.
+
+"It ain't fastened," shouted Thankful; she was obliged to shout in
+order to be heard.  "I could push it open a little mite from the
+bottom, but I couldn't reach to get it up all the way.  You can if I
+steady you, I guess.  Here!  Put your foot on that box.  I lugged it
+around from the back yard on purpose."
+
+Standing on an empty and shaky cranberry crate and held there by the
+strong arm of Mrs. Barnes, Emily managed to push up the lower half
+of the window.  The moment she let go of it, however, it fell with a
+tremendous bang.
+
+"One of the old-fashioned kind, you might know," declared Thankful.
+"No weights nor nothin'.  We'll have to prop it up with a stick.
+You wait where you are and I'll go get one.  There's what's left of
+a woodpile out back here; that's where that crate came from."
+
+She hastened away and was back in a moment with a stout stick.
+Emily raised the window once more and placed the stick beneath it.
+
+"There!" panted her companion.  "We've got a gangway anyhow.  Next
+thing is to get aboard.  You come down and give me a boost."
+
+But Emily declined.
+
+"Of course I shan't do any such thing," she declared, indignantly.
+"I can climb through that window a great deal easier than you can,
+Auntie.  I'm ever so much younger.  Just give me a push, that's
+all."
+
+Her cousin demurred.  "I hate to have you do it," she said.  "For
+anybody that ain't any too strong or well you've been through
+enough tonight.  Well, if you're so set on it.  I presume likely
+you could make a better job of climbin' than I could.  It ain't my
+age that bothers me though, it's my weight.  All ready?  Up you go!
+Humph!  It's a mercy there ain't anybody lookin' on. . . .  There!
+all right, are you?"
+
+Emily's head appeared framed by the window sash.  "Yes," she
+panted.  "I--I think I'm all right.  At least I'm through that
+window.  Now what shall I do?"
+
+"Take this lantern and go to one of the doors and see if you can
+unfasten it.  Try the back door; that's the most liable to be only
+bolted and hooked.  The front one's probably locked with a key."
+
+The lantern and its bearer disappeared.  Mrs. Barnes plodded around
+to the back door.  As she reached it it opened.
+
+"It was only hooked," said Emily.  "Come in, Auntie.  Come in
+quick!"
+
+Thankful had not waited for the invitation; she was in already.
+She took the lantern from her relative's hand.  Then she shut the
+door behind her.
+
+"Whew!" she exclaimed.  "If it don't seem good to get under cover,
+real cover!  What sort of a place is this, anyhow, Emily?"
+
+"I don't know.  I--I've been too frightened to look.  I--I feel
+like a--O, Aunt Thankful, don't you feel like a burglar?"
+
+"Me?  A burglar?  I feel like a wet dishcloth.  I never was so
+soaked, with my clothes on, in my life.  Hello!  I thought this was
+an empty house.  There's a stove and a chair, such as it is.
+Whoever lived here last didn't take away all their furniture.
+Let's go into the front rooms."
+
+The first room they entered was evidently the dining-room.  It was
+quite bare of furniture.  The next, however, that which Emily had
+entered by the window, contained another stove, a ramshackle what-
+not, and a broken-down, ragged sofa.
+
+"Oh!" gasped Miss Howes, pointing to the sofa, "see! see!  This
+ISN'T an empty house.  Suppose--Oh, SUPPOSE there were people
+living here!  What would they say to us?"
+
+For a moment Thankful was staggered.  Then her common-sense came to
+her rescue.
+
+"Nonsense!" she said, firmly.  "A house with folks livin' in it has
+somethin' in the dinin'-room besides dust.  Anyhow, it's easy
+enough to settle that question.  Where's that door lead to?"
+
+She marched across the floor and threw open the door to which she
+had pointed.
+
+"Humph!" she sniffed.  "Best front parlor.  The whole shebang
+smells shut up and musty enough, but there's somethin' about a best
+parlor smell that would give it away any time.  Phew! I can almost
+smell wax wreaths and hair-cloth, even though they have been took
+away.  No, this is an empty house all right, but I'll make good and
+sure for your sake, Emily.  Ain't there any stairs to this old
+rattle-trap?  Oh, yes, here's the front hall.  Hello! Hello, up
+there!  Hi-i!"
+
+She was shouting up the old-fashioned staircase.  Her voice echoed
+above with the unmistakable echo of empty rooms.  Only that echo
+and the howl of the wind and roar of rain answered her.
+
+She came back to the apartment where she had left her cousin.
+
+"It's all right, Emily," she said.  "We're the only passengers
+aboard the derelict.  Now let's see if we can't be more comf'table.
+You set down on that sofa and rest.  I've got an idea in my head."
+
+The idea evidently involved an examination of the stove, for she
+opened its rusty door and peered inside.  Then, without waiting to
+answer her companion's questions, she hurried out into the kitchen,
+returning with an armful of shavings and a few sticks of split
+pine.
+
+"I noticed that woodbox in the kitchen when I fust come in," she
+said.  "And 'twa'n't quite empty neither, though that's more or
+less of a miracle.  Matches?  Oh, yes, indeed!  I never travel
+without 'em.  I've been so used to lookin' out for myself and other
+folks that I'm a reg'lar man in some ways.  There! now let's see if
+the draft is rusted up as much as the stove."
+
+It was not, apparently, for, with the dampers wide open, the fire
+crackled and snapped.  Also it smoked a little.
+
+"'Twill get over that pretty soon," prophesied Mrs. Barnes.  "I can
+stand 'most any amount of smoke so long's there's heat with it.
+Now, Emily, we'll haul that sofa up alongside and you lay down on
+it and get rested and warm.  I'd say get dry, too, but 'twould take
+a reg'lar blast furnace to dry a couple of water rats like you and
+me this night.  Perhaps we can dry the upper layer, though; that'll
+be some help.  Now, mind me!  Lay right down on that sofa."
+
+Emily protested.  She was no wetter and no more tired than her
+cousin, she said.  Why should she lie down while Aunt Thankful sat
+up?
+
+"'Cause I tell you to, for one thing," said the widow, with
+decision.  "And because I'm well and strong and you ain't.  When I
+think of how I got you, a half invalid, as you might say, to come
+on this crazy trip I'm so provoked I feel like not speakin' to
+myself for a week.  There! now you LOOK more comf'table, anyhow.
+If I only had somethin' to put over you, I'd feel better.  I wonder
+if there's an old bed quilt or anything upstairs.  I've a good mind
+to go and see."
+
+Emily's protest was determined this time.
+
+"Indeed you shan't!" she cried.  "You shan't stir.  I wouldn't have
+you go prowling about this poky old place for anything.  Do you
+suppose I could stay down here alone knowing that you might be--
+might be meeting or--or finding almost anything up there.  Sit
+right down in that chair beside me.  Don't you think it is almost
+time for that driver to be back?"
+
+"Land sakes--no!  He's hardly started yet.  It's goin' to take a
+good long spell afore he can wade a mile and a half in such a storm
+as this and get another horse and wagon and come back again.  He'll
+come by and by.  All we've got to do is to stay by this fire and be
+thankful we've got it."
+
+Emily shivered.  "I suppose so," she said.  "And I know I am nervous
+and a trial instead of a help.  If you had only been alone--"
+
+"Alone!  Heavens to Betey!  Do you think I'd like this--this camp-
+meetin' any better if I was the only one to it.  My!  Just hear
+that wind!  Hope these old chimneys are solid."
+
+"Auntie, what do you suppose that man meant by saying he wouldn't
+enter this house at night for anything?"
+
+"Don't know.  Perhaps he meant he'd be afraid of bein' arrested."
+
+"But you don't think we'll be arrested?"
+
+"No, no, of course not.  I'd be almost willin' to be arrested if
+they'd do it quick.  A nice, dry lock-up and somethin' to eat
+wouldn't be so bad, would it?  But no constable but a web-footed
+one would be out this night.  Now do as I say--you lay still and
+give your nerves a rest."
+
+For a few moments the order was obeyed.  Then Miss Rowes said, with
+another shiver: "I do believe this is the worst storm I have ever
+experienced."
+
+"'Tis pretty bad, that's a fact.  Do you know, Emily, if I was a
+believer in signs such as mentioned a little while ago, I might
+almost be tempted to believe this storm was one of 'em.  About
+every big change in my life has had a storm mixed up with it,
+comin' at the time it happened or just afore or just after.  I was
+born, so my mother used to tell me, on a stormy night about like
+this one.  And it poured great guns the day I was married.  And
+Eben, my husband, went down with his vessel in a hurricane off
+Hatteras.  And when poor Jedediah run off to go gold-diggin' there
+was such a snowstorm the next day that I expected to see him
+plowin' his way home again.  Poor old Jed!  I wonder where he is
+tonight?  Let's see; six years ago, that was.  I wonder if he's
+been frozen to death or eat up by polar bears, or what.  One
+thing's sartin, he ain't made his fortune or he'd have come home to
+tell me of it.  Last words he said to me was, 'I'm a-goin', no
+matter what you say.  And when I come back, loaded down with money,
+you'll be glad to see me.'"
+
+Jedediah Cahoon was Mrs. Barnes' only near relative, a brother.
+Always a visionary, easy-going, impractical little man, he had
+never been willing to stick at steady employment, but was always
+chasing rainbows and depending upon his sister for a home and means
+of existence.  When the Klondike gold fever struck the country he
+was one of the first to succumb to the disease.  And, after an
+argument--violent on his part and determined on Thankful's--he had
+left South Middleboro and gone--somewhere.  From that somewhere he
+had never returned.
+
+"Yes," mused Mrs. Barnes, "those were the last words he said to
+me."
+
+"What did you say to him?" asked Emily, drowsily.  She had heard
+the story often enough, but she asked the question as an aid to
+keeping awake.
+
+"Hey?  What did I say?  Oh, I said my part, I guess.  'When you
+come back,' says I, 'it'll be when I send money to you to pay your
+fare home, and I shan't do it.  I've sewed and washed and cooked
+for you ever since Eben died, to say nothin' of goin' out nursin'
+and housekeepin' to earn money to buy somethin' TO cook.  Now I'm
+through.  This is my house--or, at any rate, I pay the rent for it.
+If you leave it to go gold-diggin' you needn't come back to it.  If
+you do you won't be let in.'  Of course I never thought he'd go,
+but he did.  Ah hum!  I'm afraid I didn't do right.  I ought to
+have realized that he wa'n't really accountable, poor, weak-headed
+critter!"
+
+Emily's eyes were fast shutting, but she made one more remark.
+
+"Your life has been a hard one, hasn't it, Auntie," she said.
+
+Thankful protested.  "Oh, no, no!" she declared.  "No harder'n
+anybody else's, I guess likely.  This world has more hards than
+softs for the average mortal and I never flattered myself on bein'
+above the average.  But there!  How in the nation did I get onto
+this subject?  You and me settin' here on other folks's furniture--
+or what was furniture once--soppin' wet through and half froze, and
+me talkin' about troubles that's all dead and done with!  What DID
+get me started?  Oh, yes, the storm.  I was just thinkin' how most
+of the important things in my life had had bad weather mixed up
+with 'em.  Come to think of it, it rained the day Mrs. Pearson was
+buried.  And her dyin' was what set me to thinkin' of cruisin' down
+here to East Wellmouth and lookin' at the property Uncle Abner left
+me.  I've never laid eyes on that property and I don't even know
+what the house looks like.  I might have asked that depot-wagon
+driver, but I thought 'twas no use tellin' him my private affairs,
+so I said we was bound to the hotel, and let it go at that.  If I
+had asked he might at least have told me where. . . .  Hey?  Why--
+why--my land!  I never thought of it, but it might be!  It might!
+Emily!"
+
+But Miss Howes' eyes were closed now.  In spite of her wet garments
+and her nervousness concerning their burglarious entry of the empty
+house she had fallen asleep.  Thankful did not attempt to wake her.
+Instead she tiptoed to the kitchen and the woodbox, took from the
+latter the last few slabs of pine wood and, returning, filled the
+stove to the top.  Then she sat down in the chair once more.
+
+For some time she sat there, her hands folded in her lap.
+Occasionally she glanced about the room and her lips moved as if
+she were talking to herself.  Then she rose and peered out of the
+window.  Rain and blackness and storm were without, but nothing
+else.  She returned to the sofa and stood looking down at the
+sleeper.  Emily stirred a little and shivered.
+
+That shiver helped to strengthen the fears in Mrs. Barnes' mind.
+The girl was not strong.  She had come home from her school duties
+almost worn out.  A trip such as this had been was enough to upset
+even the most robust constitution.  She was wet and cold.  Sleeping
+in wet clothes was almost sure to bring on the dreaded pneumonia.
+If only there might be something in that house, something dry and
+warm with which to cover her.
+
+"Emily," said Thankful, in a low tone.  "Emily."
+
+The sleeper did not stir.  Mrs. Barnes took up the lantern.  Its
+flame was much less bright than it had been and the wick sputtered.
+She held the lantern to her ear and shook it gently.  The feeble
+"swash" that answered the shake was not reassuring.  The oil was
+almost gone.
+
+Plainly if exploring of those upper rooms was to be done it must be
+done at once.  With one more glance at the occupant of the sofa
+Mrs. Barnes, lantern in hand, tiptoed from the room, through the
+barren front hall and up the stairs.  The stairs creaked
+abominably.  Each creak echoed like the crack of doom.
+
+At the top of the stairs was another hall, long and narrow,
+extending apparently the whole length of the house.  At intervals
+along this hall were doors.  One after the other Thankful opened
+them.  The first gave entrance to a closet, with a battered and
+ancient silk hat and a pasteboard box on the shelf.  The next
+opened into a large room, evidently the spare bedroom.  It was
+empty.  So was the next and the next and the next.  No furniture of
+any kind.  Thankful's hope of finding a quilt or a wornout blanket,
+anything which would do to cover her sleeping and shivering
+relative, grew fainter with the opening of each door.
+
+There were an astonishing number of rooms and closets.  Evidently
+this had been a big, commodious and comfortable house in its day.
+But that day was long past its sunset.  Now the bigness only
+emphasized the dreariness and desolation.  Dampness and spider webs
+everywhere, cracks in the ceiling, paper peeling from the walls.
+And around the gables and against the dormer-windows of these upper
+rooms the gale shrieked and howled and wailed like a drove of
+banshees.
+
+The room at the very end of the long hall was a large one.  It was
+at the back of the house and there were windows on two sides of it.
+It was empty like the others, and Mrs. Barnes, reluctantly deciding
+that her exploration in quest of coverings had been a failure, was
+about to turn and retrace her steps to the stairs when she noticed
+another door.
+
+It was in the corner of the room furthest from the windows and was
+shut tight.  A closet, probably, and all the closets she had
+inspected so far had contained nothing but rubbish.  However,
+Thankful was not in the habit of doing things by halves, so, the
+feebly sputtering lantern held in her left hand, she opened the
+door with the other and looked in.  Then she uttered an exclamation
+of joy.
+
+It was not a closet behind that door, but another room.  A small
+room with but one little window, low down below the slope of the
+ceiling.  But this room was to some extent furnished.  There was a
+bed in it, and a rocking chair, and one or two pictures hanging
+crookedly upon the wall.  Also, and this was the really important
+thing, upon that bed was a patchwork comforter.
+
+Thankful made a dash for that comforter.  She set the lantern down
+upon the floor and snatched the gayly colored thing from the bed.
+And, as she did so, she heard a groan.
+
+There are always noises in an empty house, especially an old house.
+Creaks and cracks and rustlings mysterious and unexplainable.  When
+the wind blows these noises are reenforced by a hundred others.  In
+this particular house on this particular night there were noises
+enough, goodness knows.  Howls and rattles and moans and shrieks.
+Every shutter and every shingle seemed to be loose and complaining
+of the fact.  As for groans--old hinges groan when the wind blows
+and so do rickety gutters and water pipes.  But this groan, or so
+it seemed to Mrs. Barnes, had a different and distinct quality of
+its own.  It sounded--yes, it sounded human.
+
+Thankful dropped the patchwork comforter.
+
+"Who's that?" she asked, sharply.
+
+There was no answer.  No sounds except those of the storm.
+Thankful picked up the comforter.
+
+"Humph!" she said aloud--talking to herself was a habit developed
+during the years of housekeeping for deaf old Mrs. Pearson.
+"Humph!  I must be gettin' nerves, I guess."
+
+She began folding the old quilt in order to make it easier to carry
+downstairs.  And then she heard another groan, or sigh, or
+combination of both.  It sounded, not outside the window or outside
+the house, but in that very room.
+
+Again Mrs. Barnes dropped the comforter.  Also she went out of the
+room.  But she did not go far.  Halfway across the floor of the
+adjoining room she stopped and put her foot down, physically and
+mentally.
+
+"Fool!" she said, disgustedly.  Then, turning on her heel, she
+marched back to the little bedroom and picked up the lantern; its
+flame had dwindled to the feeblest of feeble sparks.
+
+"Now then," said Thankful, with determination, "whoever--or--or
+whatever thing you are that's makin' that noise you might just as
+well show yourself.  If you're hidin' you'd better come out, for
+I'll find you."
+
+But no one or no "thing" came out.  Thankful waited a moment and
+then proceeded to give that room a very thorough looking-over.  It
+was such a small apartment that the process took but little time.
+There was no closet.  Except for the one window and the door by
+which she had entered, the four walls, covered with old-fashioned
+ugly paper, had no openings of any kind.  There could be no attic
+or empty space above the ceiling because she could hear the rain
+upon the sloping roof.  She looked under the bed and found nothing
+but dust.  She looked in the bed, even under the rocking-chair.
+
+"Well, there!" she muttered.  "I said it and I was right.  I AM
+gettin' to be a nervous old fool.  I'm glad Emily ain't here to see
+me.  And yet I did--I swear I did hear somethin'."
+
+The pictures on the wall by the window caught her eye.  She walked
+over and looked at them.  The lantern gave so little light that she
+could scarcely see anything, but she managed to make out that one
+was a dingy chromo with a Scriptural subject.  The other was a
+battered "crayon enlargement," a portrait of a man, a middle-aged
+man with a chin beard.  There was something familiar about the face
+in the portrait.  Something--
+
+Thankful gasped.  "Uncle Abner!" she cried.  "Why--why--"
+
+Then the lantern flame gave a last feeble sputter and went out.
+She heard the groan again.  And in that room, the room she had
+examined so carefully, so close as to seem almost at her very ear,
+a faint voice wailed agonizingly, "Oh, Lord!"
+
+Thankful went away.  She left the comforter and the lantern upon
+the floor and she did not stop to close the door of the little
+bedroom.  Through the black darkness of the long hall she rushed
+and down the creaky stairs.  Her entrance to the sitting-room was
+more noisy than her exit had been and Miss Howes stirred upon the
+sofa and opened her eyes.
+
+"Auntie!" she cried, sharply.  "Aunt Thankful, where are you?"
+
+"I'm--I'm here, Emily.  That is, I guess--yes, I'm here."
+
+"But why is it so dark?  Where is the lantern?"
+
+"The lantern?"  Mrs. Barnes was trying to speak calmly but, between
+agitation and loss of breath, she found it hard work.  "The
+lantern?  Why--it's--it's gone," she said.
+
+"Gone?  What do you mean?  Where has it gone?"
+
+"It's gone--gone out.  There wa'n't enough oil in it to last any
+longer, I suppose."
+
+"Oh!"  Emily sat up.  "And you've been sitting here alone in the
+dark while I have been asleep.  How dreadful for you!  Why didn't
+you speak to me?  Has anything happened?  Hasn't that man come back
+yet?"
+
+It was the last question which Thankful answered.  "No.  No, he
+ain't come back yet," she said.  "But he will pretty soon, I'm
+sure.  He--he will, Emily, don't you fret."
+
+"Oh, I'm not worried, Auntie.  I am too sleepy to worry, I guess."
+
+"Sleepy!  You're not goin' to sleep AGAIN, are you?"
+
+Mrs. Barnes didn't mean to ask this question; certainly she did not
+mean to ask it with such evident anxiety.  Emily noticed the tone
+and wondered.
+
+"Why, no," she said.  "I think not.  Of course I'm not.  But what
+made you speak in that way?  You're not frightened, are you?"
+
+Thankful made a brave effort.
+
+"Frightened!" she repeated, stoutly.  "What on earth should I be
+frightened of, I'd like to know?"
+
+"Why, nothing, I hope."
+
+"I should say not.  I--Good heavens above!  What's that?"
+
+She started and clutched her companion by the arm.  They both
+listened.
+
+"I don't hear anything but the storm," said Emily.  "Why, Auntie,
+you ARE frightened; you're trembling.  I do believe there is
+something."
+
+Thankful snatched her hand away.
+
+"There isn't," she declared.  "Of course there isn't."
+
+"Then why are you so nervous?"
+
+"Me?  Nervous!  Emily Howes, don't you ever say that to me again.
+I ain't nervous and I ain't goin' to be nervous.  There's no--no
+sane reason why I should be and I shan't.  I shan't!"
+
+"But, Auntie, you are.  Oh, what is it?"
+
+"Nothin'.  Nothin' at all, I tell you.  The idea!" with an attempt
+at a laugh.  "The idea of you thinkin' I'm nervous.  Young folks
+like you or rich old women are the only ones who can afford nerves.
+I ain't either young nor rich."
+
+Emily laughed, too.  This speech was natural and characteristic.
+
+"If you were a nervous wreck," she said, "it would be no wonder,
+all alone in the dark as you have been in a deserted house like
+this.  I can't forgive myself for falling asleep.  Whose house do
+you suppose it is?"
+
+Aunt Thankful did not answer.  Emily went on.  Her short nap had
+revived her courage and spirit.
+
+"Perhaps it is a haunted house," she said, jokingly.  "Every
+village has a haunted house, you know.  Perhaps that's why the
+stage-driver warned us not to go into it."
+
+To her surprise Mrs. Barnes seemed to take offense at this attempt
+at humor.
+
+"Don't talk silly," she snapped.  "If I've lived all these years
+and been as down on spooks and long-haired mediums as I've been,
+and then to--there--there!  Don't let's be idiots altogether.  Talk
+about somethin' else.  Talk about that depot-wagon driver and his
+pesky go-cart that got us into this mess.  There's plenty of things
+I'd like to say about THEM."
+
+They talked, in low tones.  Conversation there in the dark and
+under such circumstances, was rather difficult.  Emily, although
+she was determined not to admit it, was growing alarmed for the
+return of Winnie S. and his promised rescue expedition.  Aunt
+Thankful was thinking of the little back bedroom upstairs.  An
+utter lack of superstition was something upon which she had prided
+herself.  But now, as she thought of that room, of the portrait on
+the wall, and what she had heard--
+
+"Listen!" whispered Emily, suddenly.  "Listen!  I--I thought I
+heard something."
+
+Mrs. Barnes leaned forward.
+
+"What?  Where?  Upstairs?" she asked, breathlessly.
+
+"No.  Out--out there somewhere."  She pointed in the direction of
+the front hall.  "It sounded as if someone had tried the front
+door.  Hark!  There it is again."
+
+Aunt Thankful rose to her feet.  "I heard it, too," she said.
+"It's probably that driver man come back.  I'll go and see."
+
+"No--no, Auntie, you mustn't.  I--I shan't let you."
+
+"I shall!  I shall, I tell you!  If I've got any common-sense at
+all, I ain't goin' to be scared of--  Of course it's that driver
+man.  He's wonderin' where we are and he's lookin' for us.  I'll go
+let him in."
+
+She broke away from Miss Howes' grasp and started for the front
+hall.  The action was a braver one than her cousin realized.  If
+there was one thing on earth that Thankful Barnes did not wish to
+do at that moment, it was to go nearer the stairs landing to the
+rooms above.
+
+But she went, and Emily went with her.  Cautiously they peered
+through the little windows at the sides of the front door.  There
+was no one in sight, and, listening, they heard nothing.
+
+"I--I guess we was mistaken, Emily," whispered Thankful.  "Let's go
+back to the fire."
+
+"But Auntie, I DID hear something.  Didn't you?"
+
+"Well, I thought I did, but I guess--  Oh, DON'T stay here another
+minute!  I--I shall be hearin' 'most anything if we do."
+
+They returned to the room they had left.  But they had scarcely
+entered it when they stopped short and, clinging to each other,
+listened.
+
+It was the latch of the kitchen door they heard click now.  And the
+door was opening.  In the kitchen they heard the sounds of cautious
+footsteps, footsteps which entered the dining-room, which came on
+toward the sitting-room.  And a voice, a man's voice, whispered:
+
+"I told you so!  I--I told you so!  I said I see a light.  And--and
+that door was undone and--and--  By time!  Obed Bangs, you can go
+on if you want to, but I tell you you're riskin' your life.  I--I
+ain't goin' to stay no longer.  I'm goin' to fetch the constable--
+or--or the minister or somebody.  I--"
+
+Another voice interrupted.
+
+"Shut up!  Belay!" it ordered.  "If there's anybody or anything in
+this house we'll have a look at it, that's all.  You can go to the
+minister afterwards, if you want to.  Just now you'll come along
+with me if I have to haul you by the neck.  Let's see what's in
+here."
+
+There was a flash of light in the crack of the door leading from
+the dining-room.  That door was thrown open and the light became a
+blaze from a big lantern held aloft.
+
+"Hey!  What!" exclaimed the second voice.  "Who--women, by the
+everlastin'!"
+
+Mrs. Barnes and Emily clinging to each other, blinked in the
+lantern light.
+
+"Women!  Two women!" said the voice again.
+
+Thankful answered.  The voice was real and it came from a human
+throat.  Anything human--and visible--she did not fear.
+
+"Yes," she said, crisply, "we're women.  What of it?  Who are you?"
+
+The man with the lantern entered the room.  He was big and broad-
+shouldered and bearded.  His companion was short and stout and
+smooth-faced; also he appeared very much frightened.  Both men wore
+oilskin coats and sou'westers.
+
+"Who are you?" repeated Aunt Thankful.
+
+The big man answered.  His sunburned, good-humored face was
+wrinkled and puckered with amazement.
+
+"Well," he stammered, "I--we--Humph! well, we're neighbors and--
+but--but, I don't know as I know you, ma'am, do I?"
+
+"I don't know why you should.  I don't know you, fur's that goes.
+What are you doin' here?  Did that depot-wagon man send you?"
+
+"Depot-wagon man?  No, ma'am; nobody sent us.  Kenelm--er--Mr.
+Parker here, saw a light a spell ago and, bein' as this house is
+supposed to be empty, he--"
+
+"Wait a minute!" Miss Howes interrupted.  "Whose house is this?"
+
+"Why--why, it ain't anybody's house, ma'am.  That is, nobody lives
+here."
+
+"But somebody used to live here, it's likely.  What was his name?"
+
+"His name?  Well, old Laban Eldredge used to live here.  The house
+belongs to Captain Abner Cahoon's heirs, I believe, and--"
+
+Again Thankful interrupted.
+
+"I knew it!" she cried, excitedly.  "I wondered if it mightn't be
+so and when I see that picture of Uncle Abner I was sure.  All
+right, Mr. Whoever-you-are, then I'm here because I own the house.
+My name's Barnes, Thankful Barnes of South Middleboro, and I'm
+Abner Cahoon's heir.  Emily, this--this rattle-trap you and I broke
+into is the 'property' we've talked so much about."
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+Emily said--well, the first thing she said was, "Oh, Aunt
+Thankful!"  Then she added that she couldn't believe it.
+
+"It's so," declared Mrs. Barnes, "whether we believe it or not.
+When you come to think it over there's nothin' so wonderful about
+it, after all.  I had a sneakin' suspicion when I was sittin' here
+by you, after you'd gone to sleep.  What I saw afterwards made me
+almost sure.  I--Hum!  I guess likely that'll keep till we get to
+the hotel, if we ever do get there.  Perhaps Mr.--Mr.--"
+
+"Bangs is my name, ma'am," said the big man with the lantern.
+"Obed Bangs."
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Bangs.  Or it's 'Cap'n Bangs,' ain't it?"
+
+"They generally call me Cap'n, ma'am, though I ain't been doin' any
+active seafarin' for some time."
+
+"I thought as much.  Down here on Cape Cod, and givin' orders the
+way I heard you afore you come into this room, 'twas nine chances
+to one you was a cap'n, or you had been one.  Bangs--Bangs--Obed
+Bangs?  Why, that name sounds kind of familiar.  Seems as if--
+Cap'n Bangs, you didn't use to know Eben Barnes of Provincetown,
+did you?"
+
+"Eben Barnes?  Cap'n Eben of the White Foam, lost off Cape Hatteras
+in a gale?"
+
+"Yes, that's the one.  I thought I heard him speak of you.  He was
+my husband."
+
+Captain Obed Bangs uttered an exclamation.  Then he stepped forward
+and seized Mrs. Barnes' hand.  The lady's hand was not a very small
+one but the Captain's was so large that, as Thankful remarked
+afterward, it might have shaken hers twice at the same time.
+
+"Eben Barnes' wife!" exclaimed Captain Obed.  "Why, Eben and I was
+messmates on I don't know how many v'yages!  Well, well, well,
+ma'am, I'm real glad to see you."
+
+"You ain't so glad as we are to see you--and your friend," observed
+Thankful, drily.  "Is he a captain, too?"
+
+He didn't look like one, certainly.  He had removed his sou'wester,
+uncovering a round head, with reddish-gray hair surrounding a bald
+spot at the crown.  He had a double chin and a smile which was
+apologetic but ingratiating.  He seemed less frightened than when
+he first entered the room, but still glanced about him with evident
+apprehension.
+
+"No--no, ma'am," he stammered, in answer to the question.  "No,
+ma'am, I--I--my name's Parker.  I--I ain't a cap'n; no, ma'am."
+
+"Kenelm ain't been promoted yet," observed Captain Obed gravely.
+"He's waitin' until he get's old enough to go to sea.  Ain't that
+it, Kenelm?"
+
+Kenelm smiled and shifted his sou'wester from his right hand to his
+left.
+
+"I--I cal'late so," he answered.
+
+"Well, it don't make any difference," declared Thankful.  "My
+cousin and I are just as glad to see him as if he was an admiral.
+We've been waitin' so long to see any human bein' that we'd begun
+to think they was all drowned.  But you haven't met my cousin yet.
+Her name's Howes."
+
+Emily, who had stood by, patient but chilly, during the introductions
+and reminiscences, shook hands with Captain Bangs and Mr. Parker.
+Both gentlemen said they were pleased to meet her; no, Captain Obed
+said that--Kenelm said that he was "glad to be acquaintanced."
+
+"I don't know as we hadn't ought to beg your pardon for creepin' in
+on you this way," said the captain.  "We thought the house was
+empty.  We didn't know you was visitin' your--your property."
+
+"Well, so far as that goes, neither did we.  I don't wonder you
+expected to find burglars or tramps or whatever you did expect.
+We've had an awful time this night, ain't we, Emily?"
+
+"We certainly have," declared Miss Howes, with emphasis.
+
+"Yes, you see--"
+
+She gave a brief history of the cruise and wreck of the depot-
+wagon.  Also of their burglarious entry of the house.
+
+"And now, Cap'n," she said, in conclusion, "if you could think
+up any way of our gettin' to that hotel, we'd be ever so much
+obliged. . . .  Hello!  There's that driver, I do believe!  And
+about time, I should say!"
+
+From without came the sound of wheels and the voice of Winnie S.,
+hailing his missing passengers.
+
+"Hi!  Hi-i!  Where be ye?"
+
+"He'll wear his lungs out, screamin' that way," snapped Thankful.
+"Can't he see the light, for goodness sakes?"
+
+Captain Obed answered.  "He couldn't see nothin' unless 'twas hung
+on the end of his nose," he said.  "That boy's eyes and brains
+ain't connected.  Here, Kenelm," turning to Mr. Parker, "you go out
+and tell Win to shut down on his fog whistle; he's wastin' steam.
+Tell him the women-folks are in here.  Look alive, now!"
+
+Kenelm looked alive, but not much more than that.
+
+"All right, Cap'n," he stammered.  "A--a--all right.  What--what--
+shall I say--what shall I--had I better--"
+
+"Thunderation!  Do you need a chart and compass?  Stay where you
+are.  I'll say it myself."
+
+He strode to the window, threw it open, and shouted in a voice
+which had been trained to carry above worse gales than the present
+one:
+
+"Ahoy!  Ahoy!  Win!  Fetch her around aft here.  Lay alongside the
+kitchen door!  D'you hear?  Ahoy!  Win! d'you hear?"
+
+Silence.  Then, after a moment, came the reply.  "Yup, I hear ye.
+Be right there."
+
+The captain turned from the window.
+
+"Took some time for him to let us know he heard, didn't it," he
+observed.  "Cal'late he had to say 'Judas priest' four or five
+times afore he answered.  If you cut all the 'Judas priests' out of
+that boy's talk he'd be next door to tongue-tied."
+
+Thankful turned to her relative.
+
+"There, Emily," she said, with a sigh of relief.  "I guess likely
+we'll make the hotel this tack.  I begun to think we never would."
+
+Captain Bangs shook his head.
+
+"You won't go to no hotel this night," he said, decidedly.  "It's a
+long ways off and pretty poor harbor after you make it.  You'll
+come right along with me and Kenelm to his sister's house.  It's
+only a little ways and Hannah's got a spare room and she'll be glad
+to have you.  I'm boardin' there myself just now.  Yes, you will,"
+he added.  "Of course you will.  Suppose I'm goin' to let relations
+of Eben Barnes put up at the East Wellmouth tavern?  By the
+everlastin', I guess not!  I wouldn't send a--a Democrat there.
+Come right along!  Don't say another word."
+
+Both of the ladies said other words, a good many of them, but they
+might as well have been orders to the wind to stop blowing.
+Captain Obed Bangs was, evidently, a person accustomed to having
+his own way.  Even as they were still protesting their new
+acquaintance led them to the kitchen door, where Winnie S. and a
+companion, a long-legged person who answered to the name of
+"Jabez," were waiting on the front seat of a vehicle attached to a
+dripping and dejected horse.  To the rear of this vehicle "General
+Jackson" was tethered by a halter.  Winnie S. was loaded to the
+guards with exclamatory explanations.
+
+"Judas priest!" he exclaimed, as the captain assisted Mrs. Barnes
+and Emily into the carriage.  "If I ain't glad to see you folks!
+When I got back here and there wa'n't a sign of you nowheres, I was
+took some off my pins, I tell ye.  Didn't know what to do.  I says
+to Jabez, I says--"
+
+Captain Obed interrupted.  "Never mind what you said to Jabez,
+Win," he said.  "Why didn't you get back sooner?  That's what we
+want to know."
+
+Winnie S. was righteously indignant.  "Sooner!" he repeated.
+"Judas priest!  I tell ye right now I'm lucky to get back at all.
+Took me pretty nigh an hour to get to the village.  Such travelin'
+I never see.  Tried to save time by takin' the short cut acrost the
+meadow, and there ain't no meadow no more.  It's three foot under
+water.  You never see such a tide.  So back I had to frog it and
+when I got far as Jabe's house all hands had turned in.  I had to
+pretty nigh bust the door down 'fore I could wake anybody up.  Then
+Jabe he had to get dressed and we had to harness up and--hey?  Did
+you say anything, ma'am?"
+
+The question was addressed to Mrs. Barnes, who had been vainly
+trying to ask one on her own account.
+
+"I say have you got our valises?" asked Thankful.  "Last I saw of
+them they was in that other wagon, the one that broke down."
+
+The driver slapped his knee.  "Judas priest!" he cried.  "I forgot
+all about them satchels.  Here, Jabe," handing the reins to his
+companion.  "You take the hellum while I run back and fetch 'em."
+
+He was back in a few moments with the missing satchels.  Then
+Jabez, who was evidently not given to wasting words, drawled: "Did
+you get the mail?  That's in there, too, ain't it?"
+
+"Judas priest!  So 'tis.  Why didn't you remind me of it afore?
+Set there like--like a wooden figurehead and let me run my legs
+off--"
+
+His complaints died away in the distance.  At last, with the mail
+bag under the seat, the caravan moved on.  It was still raining,
+but not so hard, and the wind blew less fiercely.  They jogged and
+rocked and splashed onward.  Suddenly Winnie S. uttered another
+shout.
+
+"The lantern!" he cried.  "Where's that lantern I lent ye?"
+
+"It's there in the house," said Thankful.  "It burned itself out
+and I forgot it.  Mercy on us!  You're not goin' back after that, I
+hope."
+
+"Well, I dunno.  That lantern belongs to the old man--dad, I mean--
+and he sets a lot of store by it.  If I've lost that lantern on
+him, let alone leavin' his depot-wagon all stove up, he'll give me--"
+
+"Never mind what he'll give you," broke in Captain Bangs.  "You
+keep on your course or I'LL give you somethin'.  Don't you say
+another word till we get abreast of Hannah Parker's."
+
+"Humph!  We're there now.  I thought these folks was goin' to our
+hotel."
+
+"Take my advice and don't think so much.  You'll open a seam in
+your head and founder, first thing you know.  Here we are!  And
+here's Hannah!  Hannah, Kenelm and I've brought you a couple of
+lodgers.  Now, ma'am, if you'll stand by.  Kenelm, open that
+hatch."
+
+Mr. Parker opened the hatch--the door of the carriage--and the
+captain assisted the passengers to alight.  Emily caught a glimpse
+of the white front of a little house and of a tall, angular woman
+standing in the doorway holding a lamp.  Then she and Mrs. Barnes
+were propelled by the strong arms of their pilot through that
+doorway and into a little sitting-room, bright and warm and cheery.
+
+"There!" declared Captain Obed.  "That cruise is over.  Kenelm!
+Where is Kenelm?  Oh, there you are!  You tell that Winnie S. to
+trot along.  We'll settle for passage tomorrow mornin'.  Now,
+ma'am," turning to Thankful, "you and your relation want to make
+yourselves as comf'table as you can.  This is Miss Parker, Kenelm's
+sister.  Hannah, this is Mrs. Barnes, Eben Barnes' widow.  You've
+heard me speak of him.  And this is Miss Howes.  I cal'late they're
+hungry and I know they're wet.  Seems's if dry clothes and supper
+might be the next items on the manifest."
+
+Miss Parker rose to the occasion.  She flew about preparing the
+"items."  Thankful and Emily were shown to the spare room, hot
+water and towels were provided, the valise was brought in.  When
+the ladies again made their appearance in the sitting-room, they
+were arrayed in dry, warm garments, partly their own and partly
+supplied from the wardrobe of their hostess.  As to the fit of
+these latter, Mrs. Barnes expressed her opinion when she said:
+
+"Don't look at me, Emily.  I feel like a barrel squeezed into an
+umbrella cover.  This dress is long enough, land knows, but that's
+about all you can say of it.  However, I suppose we hadn't ought
+to--to look a gift dress in the waistband."
+
+Supper was ready in the dining-room and thither they were piloted
+by Kenelm, whose hair, what there was of it, was elaborately
+"slicked down," and whose celluloid collar had evidently received a
+scrubbing.  In the dining-room they found Captain Bangs awaiting
+them.  Miss Parker made her appearance bearing a steaming teapot.
+Hannah, now that they had an opportunity to inspect her, was seen
+to be as tall and sharp-featured as her brother was short and
+round.  She was at least fifteen years older than he, but she moved
+much more briskly.  Also she treated Kenelm as she might have
+treated a child, an only child who needed constant suppression.
+
+"Please to be seated, everybody," she said.  "Cap'n Obed, you take
+your reg'lar place.  Mrs. Barnes, if you'll be so kind as to set
+here, and Miss Howes next to you.  Kenelm, you set side of me.  Set
+down, don't stand there fidgetin'.  WHAT did you put on that
+necktie for?  I told you to put on the red one."
+
+Kenelm fingered his tie.  "I--I cal'late I must have forgot,
+Hannah," he stammered.  "I never noticed.  This one's all right,
+ain't it?"
+
+"All right!  It'll have to be.  You can't change it now.  But, for
+goodness sakes, look out it stays on.  The elastic's all worn loose
+and it's li'ble to drop into your tea or anywheres else.  Now,"
+with a sudden change from a family to a "company" manner, "may I
+assist you to a piece of the cold ham, Miss Howes?  I trust you are
+feelin' quite restored to yourself again?"
+
+Emily's answer being in the affirmative, their hostess continued:
+
+"I'm so sorry to be obliged to set nothin' but cold ham and toast
+and tea before you," she said.  "If I had known you was comin' I
+should have prepared somethin' more fittin'.  After such an
+experience as you must have been through this night to set down to
+ham and toast!  I--I declare I feel real debilitated and ashamed to
+offer 'em to you."
+
+Thankful answered.
+
+"Don't say a word, Miss Parker," she said, heartily.  "We're the
+ones that ought to be ashamed.  Landin' on you this way in the
+middle of the night.  You're awfully good to take us in at all.  My
+cousin and I were on our way to the hotel, but Cap'n Bangs wouldn't
+hear of it.  He's responsible for our comin' here."
+
+Miss Parker nodded.
+
+"Cap'n Obed is the most hospital soul livin'," she said, grandly.
+"He done just right.  If he'd done anything else Kenelm and I would
+have felt hurt.  I--  Look out!" with a sudden snatch at her
+brother's shirt front.  "There goes that tie.  Another second and
+'twould have been right in your plate."
+
+Kenelm snapped the loop of the "made" tie over his collar button.
+"Don't grab at me that way, Hannah," he protested mildly.  "I'm
+kind of nervous tonight, after what I've been through.  'Twouldn't
+have done no great harm if I had dropped it.  I could pick it up
+again, couldn't I?"
+
+"You could, but I doubt if you would.  You might have ate it,
+you're so absent-minded.  Nervous!  YOU nervous!  What do you think
+of me?  Mrs. Barnes," turning to Thankful and once more resuming
+the "company" manner, "you'll excuse our bein' a little upset.  You
+see, when my brother came home and said he'd seen lights movin'
+around in the old Barnes' house, he frightened us all pretty near
+to death.  All Cap'n Obed could think of was tramps, or thieves or
+somethin'.  Nothin' would do but he must drag Kenelm right back to
+see who or what was in there.  And I was left alone to imagine all
+sorts of dreadful things.  Tramps I might stand.  They belong to
+this world, anyhow.  But in THAT house, at eleven o'clock at night,
+I--  Mrs. Barnes, do you believe in aberrations?"
+
+Thankful was nonplused.  "In--in which?" she asked.
+
+"In aberrations, spirits of dead folks comin' alive again?"
+
+For just a moment Mrs. Barnes hesitated.  Then she glanced at
+Emily, who was trying hard not to smile, and answered, with
+decision: "No, I don't."
+
+"Well, I don't either, so far as that goes.  I never see one
+myself, and I've never seen anybody that has.  But when Kenelm came
+tearin' in to say he'd seen a light in a house shut up as long as
+that one has been, and a house that folks--"
+
+Captain Bangs interrupted.  He had been regarding Thankful closely
+and now he changed the subject.
+
+"How did it happen you saw that light, Kenelm?" he asked.  "What
+was you doin' over in that direction a night like this?"
+
+Kenelm hesitated.  He seemed to find it difficult to answer.
+
+"Why--why--" he stammered, "I'd been up to the office after the
+mail.  And--and--it was so late comin' that I give it up.  I says
+to Lemuel Ryder, 'Lem,' I says--"
+
+His sister broke in.
+
+"Lem Ryder!" she repeated.  "Was he at the post-office?"
+
+"Well--well--" Kenelm's confusion was more marked than ever.
+"Well--well--" he stammered, "I see him, and I says--"
+
+"You see him!  Where did you see him?  Kenelm Parker, I don't
+believe you was at the postoffice at all.  You was at the clubroom,
+that's where you was.  At that clubroom, smokin' and playin' cards
+with that deprivated crowd of loafers and gamblers.  Tell me the
+truth, now, wasn't you?"
+
+Mr. Parker's tie fell off then, but neither he nor his sister
+noticed it.
+
+"Gamblers!" he snorted.  "There ain't no gamblers there.  Playin' a
+hand or two of Californy Jack just for fun ain't gamblin'.  I
+wouldn't gamble, not for a million dollars."
+
+Captain Obed laughed.  "Neither would I," he observed.  "Nor for
+two cents, with that clubroom gang; 'twould be too much nerve
+strain collectin' my winnin's.  I see now why you come by the
+Barnes' house, Kenelm.  It's the nighest way home from that
+clubhouse.  Well, I'm glad you did.  Mrs. Barnes and Miss Howes
+would have had a long session in the dark if you hadn't.  Yes, and
+a night at Darius Holt's hotel, which would have been a heap worse.
+So you've been livin' at South Middleboro, Mrs. Barnes, have you?
+Does Miss Howes live there, too?"
+
+Thankful, very grateful for the change of topic, told of her life
+since her husband's death, of her long stay with Mrs. Pearson, of
+Emily's teaching school, and their trip aboard the depot-wagon.
+
+"Well," exclaimed Miss Parker, when she had finished, "you have
+been through enough, I should say!  A reg'lar story-book adventure,
+ain't it?  Lost in a storm and shut up in an empty house, the one
+you come purpose to see.  It's a mercy you wa'n't either of you
+hurt, climbin' in that window the way you did.  You might have
+broke your arms or your necks or somethin'.  Mr. Alpheus Bassett,
+down to the Point--a great, strong, fleshy man, weighs close to two
+hundred and fifty and never sick a day in his life--he was up in
+the second story of his buildin' walkin' around spry as anybody--
+all alone, which he shouldn't have been at his age--and he stepped
+on a fish and away he went.  And the next thing we hear he's in bed
+with his collar-bone.  Did you ever hear anything like that in your
+life, Miss Howes?"
+
+It was plain that Emily never had.  "I--I'm afraid I don't
+understand," she faltered.  "You say he was in the second story of
+a building and he stepped on--on a FISH?"
+
+"Yes, just a mackerel 'twas, and not a very big one, they tell me.
+At first they was afraid 'twas the spine he'd broke, but it turned
+out to be only the collar-bone, though that's bad enough."
+
+Captain Obed burst into a laugh.  "'Twa'n't the mackerel's collar-
+bone, Miss Howes," he explained, "though I presume likely that was
+broke, too, if Alpheus stepped on it.  He was up in the loft of his
+fish shanty icin' and barrelin' fish to send to Boston, and he fell
+downstairs.  Wonder it didn't kill him."
+
+Miss Parker nodded.  "That's what I say," she declared.  "And
+Sarah--that's his wife--tells me the doctors are real worried
+because the fraction ain't ignited yet."
+
+Thankful coughed and then observed that she should think they would
+be.
+
+"If you don't mind," she added, "I think it's high time all hands
+went to bed.  It must be way along into the small hours and if we
+set here any longer it'll be time for breakfast.  You folks must be
+tired, settin' up this way and I'm sure Emily and I am.  If we turn
+in now we may have a chance to look over that precious property of
+mine afore we go back to South Middleboro.  I don't know, though,
+as we haven't seen enough of it already.  It don't look very
+promisin' to me."
+
+The captain rose from the table and, walking to the window, pushed
+aside the shade.
+
+"It'll look better tomorrow--today, I should say," he observed.
+"The storm's about over, and the wind's hauled to the west'ard.
+We'll have a spell of fair weather now, I guess.  That property of
+yours, Mrs. Barnes, 'll look a lot more promisin' in the sunshine.
+There's no better view along shore than from the front windows of
+that house.  'Tain't half bad, that old house ain't.  All it needs
+is fixin' up."
+
+Good nights--good mornings, for it was after two o'clock--were said
+and the guests withdrew to their bedroom.  Once inside, with the
+door shut, Thankful and Emily looked at each other and both burst
+out laughing.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" gasped the former, wiping her eyes.  "Maybe it's
+mean to laugh at folks that's been as kind to us as these Parkers
+have been, but I never had such a job keepin' a straight face in my
+life.  When she said she was 'debilitated' at havin' to give us ham
+and toast that was funny enough, but what come afterwards was
+funnier.  The 'fraction' ain't 'ignited' yet and the doctors are
+worried.  I should think they'd be more worried if it had."
+
+Emily shook her head.  "I am glad I didn't have to answer that
+remark, Auntie," she said.  "I never could have done it without
+disgracing myself.  She is a genuine Mrs. Malaprop, isn't she?"
+
+This was a trifle too deep for Mrs. Barnes, who replied that she
+didn't know, she having never met the Mrs. What's-her-name to whom
+her cousin referred.  "She's a genuine curiosity, this Parker
+woman, if that's what you mean, Emily," she said.  "And so's her
+brother, though a different kind of one.  We must get Cap'n Bangs
+to tell us more about 'em in the mornin'.  He thinks that--that
+heirloom house of mine will look better in the daylight.  Well, I
+hope he's right; it looked hopeless enough tonight, what I could
+see of it."
+
+"I like that Captain Bangs," observed Emily.
+
+"So do I.  It seems as if we'd known him for ever so long.  And how
+his salt-water talk does take me back.  Seems as if I was hearin'
+my father and Uncle Abner--yes, and Eben, too--speakin'.  And it is
+so sort of good and natural to be callin' somebody 'Cap'n.'  I was
+brought up amongst cap'ns and I guess I've missed 'em more'n I
+realized.  Now you must go to sleep; you'll need all the sleep you
+can get, and that won't be much.  Good night."
+
+"Good night," said Emily, sleepily.  A few minutes later she said:
+"Auntie, what did become of that lantern our driver was so anxious
+about?  The last I saw of it it was on the floor by the sofa where
+I was lying.  But I didn't seem to remember it after the captain
+and Mr. Parker came."
+
+Mrs. Barnes' reply was, if not prompt, at least conclusive.
+
+"It's over there somewhere," she said.  "The light went out, but it
+ain't likely the lantern went with it.  Now you go to sleep."
+
+Miss Howes obeyed.  She was asleep very soon thereafter.  But
+Thankful lay awake, thinking and wondering--yes, and dreading.
+What sort of a place was this she had inherited?  She distinctly
+did not believe in what Hannah Parker had called "aberrations," but
+she had heard something--something strange and inexplicable in that
+little back bedroom.  The groans might have been caused by the
+gale, but no gale spoke English, or spoke at all, for that matter.
+Who, or what, was it that had said "Oh Lord!" in the darkness and
+solitude of that bedroom?
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+Thankful opened her eyes.  The sunlight was streaming in at the
+window.  Beneath that window hens were clucking noisily.  Also in
+the room adjoining someone was talking, protesting.
+
+"I don't know, Hannah," said Mr. Parker's voice.  "I tell you I
+don't know where it is.  If I knew I'd tell you, wouldn't I?  I
+don't seem to remember what I done with it."
+
+"Well, then, you've got to set down and not stir till you do
+remember, that's all.  When you went out of this house last evenin'
+to go to the postoffice--  Oh, yes!  To the postoffice--that's
+where you said you was goin'--you had the lantern and that
+umbrella.  When you came back, hollerin' about the light you see in
+the Cap'n Abner house, you had the lantern.  But the umbrella you
+didn't have.  Now where is it?"
+
+"I don't know, Hannah.  I--I--do seem to remember havin' had it,
+but--"
+
+"Well, I'm glad you remember that much.  You lost one of your
+mittens, too, but 'twas an old one, so I don't mind that so much.
+But that umbrella was your Christmas present and 'twas good gloria
+silk with a real gilt-plated handle.  I paid two dollars and a
+quarter for that umbrella, and I told you never to take it out in a
+storm because you were likely to turn it inside out and spile it.
+If I'd seen you take it last night I'd have stopped you, but you
+was gone afore I missed it."
+
+"But--but, consarn it all, Hannah--"
+
+"Don't swear, Kenelm.  Profanity won't help you none."
+
+"I wa'n't swearin'.  All I say is what's the use of an umbrella if
+you can't hist it in a storm?  I wouldn't give a darn for a
+schooner load of 'em when 'twas fair weather.  I--I cal'late I--I
+left it somewheres."
+
+"I cal'late you did.  I'm goin' over to the village this mornin'
+and I'll stop in at that clubhouse, myself."
+
+"I--I don't believe it's at the clubhouse, Hannah."
+
+"You don't?  Why don't you?"
+
+"I--I don't know.  I just guess it ain't, that's all.  Somethin'
+seems to tell me 'tain't."
+
+"Oh, it does, hey?  I want to know!  Hum!  Was you anywheres else
+last night?  Answer me the truth now, Kenelm Parker.  Was you
+anywheres else last night?"
+
+"Anywheres else.  What do you mean by that?"
+
+"I mean what I say.  You know what I mean well enough.  Was you--
+well, was you callin' on anybody?"
+
+"Callin' on anybody?  CALLIN' on 'em?"
+
+"Yes, callin' on 'em.  Oh, you needn't look so innocent and
+buttery!  You ain't above it.  Ain't I had experience?  Haven't I
+been through it?  Didn't you use to say that I, your sister that's
+been a mother to you, was the only woman in this world for you, and
+then, the minute I was out of sight and hardly out of hearin', you--"
+
+"My soul!  You've got Abbie Larkin in your head again, ain't you?
+It--it--I swear it's a reg'lar disease with you, seems so.  Ain't I
+told you I ain't seen Abbie Larkin, nor her me, for the land knows
+how long?  And I don't want to see her.  My time!  Do you suppose I
+waded and paddled a mile and a quarter down to call on Abbie Larkin
+a night like last night?  What do you think I am--a bull frog?  I
+wouldn't do it to see the--the Queen of Rooshy."
+
+This vehement outburst seemed to have some effect.  Miss Parker's
+tone was more conciliatory.
+
+"Well, all right," she said.  "I s'pose likely you didn't call on
+her, if you say so, Kenelm.  I suppose I am a foolish, lone woman.
+But, O Kenelm, I do think such a sight of you.  And you know you've
+got money and that Abbie Larkin is so worldly she'd marry you for
+it in a minute.  I didn't know but you might have met her."
+
+"Met her!  Tut--tut--tut!  If that ain't--and in a typhoon like
+last night!  Oh, sartin, I met her!  I was up here on top of
+Meetin'-house Hill, larnin' her to swim in the mud puddles.  You do
+talk so silly sometimes, Hannah."
+
+"Maybe I do," with a sniff.  "Maybe I do, Kenelm, but you mean so
+much to me.  I just can't let you go."
+
+"Go!  I ain't goin' nowheres, am I?  What kind of talk's that?"
+
+"And to think you'd heave away that umbrella--the umbrella I gave
+you!  That's what makes me feel so bad.  A nice, new, gilt-plated
+umbrella--"
+
+"I never hove it away.  I--I--well, I left it somewheres, I--I
+cal'late.  I'll go look for it after breakfast.  Say, when are we
+goin' to have breakfast, anyhow?  It's almost eight o'clock now.
+Ain't them women-folks EVER goin' to turn out?"
+
+Thankful had heard enough.  She was out of bed the next instant.
+
+"Emily! Emily!" she cried.  "It's late.  We must get up now."
+
+The voices in the sitting-room died to whispers.
+
+"I--I can't help it," pleaded Kenelm.  "I never meant nothin'.  I
+thought they was asleep.  And 'TIS most eight.  By time, Hannah,
+you do pick on me--"
+
+A vigorous "Sshh!" interrupted him.  The door between the sitting-
+room and dining-room closed with a slam.  Mrs. Barnes and Emily
+dressed hurriedly.
+
+They gathered about the breakfast table, the Parkers, Captain Obed
+and the guests.  Miss Parker's "company manner" was again much in
+evidence and she seemed to feel it her duty to lead the
+conversation.  She professed to have discovered a striking
+resemblance between Miss Howes and a deceased relative of her own
+named Melinda Ellis.
+
+"The more I see of you, Miss Howes," she declared, "the more I
+can't help thinkin' of poor Melindy.  She was pretty and had dark
+eyes and hair same's you've got, and that same sort of--of
+consumptic look to her.  Not that you've got consumption, I don't
+mean that.  Only you look the way she done, that's all.  She did
+have consumption, poor thing.  Everybody thought she'd die of it,
+but she didn't.  She got up in the night to take some medicine and
+she took the wrong kind--toothache lotion it was and awful
+powerful--and it ate right through to her diagram.  She didn't live
+long afterwards, poor soul."
+
+No one said anything for a moment after this tragic recital.  Then
+Captain Bangs observed cheerfully:
+
+"Well, I guess Miss Howes ain't likely to drink any toothache
+lotion."
+
+Hannah nodded sedately.  "I trust not," she said.  "But accidents
+do happen.  And Melindy and Miss Howes look awful like each other.
+You're real well, I hope, Miss Howes.  After bein' exposed the way
+you was last night I HOPE you haven't caught cold.  You never can
+tell what'll follow a cold--with some people."
+
+Thankful was glad when the meal was over.  She, too, was fearful
+that her cousin might have taken cold during the wet chill of the
+previous night.  But Emily declared she was very well indeed; that
+the very sight of the sunlit sea through the dining-room windows
+had acted like a tonic.
+
+"Good enough!" exclaimed Captain Obed, heartily.  "Then we ought to
+be gettin' a bigger dose of that tonic.  Mrs. Barnes, if you and
+Miss Howes would like to walk over and have a look at that property
+of yours, now's as good a time as any to be doin' it.  I'll go
+along with you if I won't be in the way."
+
+Thankful looked down rather doubtfully at the borrowed gown she was
+wearing, but Miss Parker came to the rescue by announcing that her
+guests' own garments must be dry by this time, they had been
+hanging by the stove all night.  So, after the change had been
+made, the two left the Parker residence and took the foot-path at
+the top of the bluff.  Captain Obed seemed at first rather uneasy.
+
+"Hope I ain't hurryin' you too much," he said.  "I thought maybe it
+would be just as well to get out of sight of Hannah as quick as
+possible.  She might take a notion to come with us.  I thought sure
+Kenelm would, but he's gone on a cruise of his own somewheres.  He
+hustled outdoor soon as breakfast was over."
+
+Emily burst out laughing.  "Excuse me, please," she said, "but I've
+been dying to do this for so long.  That--that Miss Parker is the
+oddest person!"
+
+The captain grinned.  "Thinkin' about that 'diagram' yarn?" he
+asked.  "'Tis funny when you hear it the first four or five times.
+Hannah Parker can get more wrong words in the right places than
+anybody I ever run across.  She must have swallowed a dictionary
+some time or 'nother, but it ain't digested well, I'm afraid."
+
+Thankful laughed, too.  "You must find her pretty amusin', Cap'n
+Bangs," she said.
+
+The captain shook his head.  "She's a reg'lar dime show," he
+observed.  Then he added: "Only trouble with that kind of a show is
+it gets kind of tiresome when you have to set through it all
+winter.  There! now you can see your property, Mrs. Barnes, and ten
+mile either side of it.  Look's some more lifelike and cheerful
+than it did last night, don't it?"
+
+It most assuredly did.  They had reached the summit of a little
+hill and before and behind and beneath them was a view of shore and
+sea that caused Emily to utter an exclamation of delight.
+
+"Oh!" she cried.  "WHAT a view!  What a wonderful view!"
+
+Behind them, beyond the knoll upon which stood the little Parker
+house which they had just left, at the further side of the stretch
+of salt meadow with the creek and bridge, was East Wellmouth
+village.  Along the white sand of the beach, now garlanded with
+lines of fresh seaweed torn up and washed ashore by the gale, were
+scattered a half dozen fishhouses, with dories and lobster pots
+before them, and at the rear of these began the gray and white
+huddle of houses and stores, with two white church spires and the
+belfry of the schoolhouse rising above their roofs.
+
+At their right, only a few yards from the foot-path where they
+stood, the high sand bluff broke sharply down to the beach and the
+sea.  The great waves, tossing their white plumes on high, came
+marching majestically in, to trip, topple and fall, one after the
+other, in roaring, hissing Niagaras upon the shore.  Over their
+raveled crests the gulls dipped and soared.  The air was clear, the
+breeze keen and refreshing and the salty smell of the torn seaweed
+rose to the nostrils of the watchers.
+
+To the left were barren hills, dotted with scrub, and farther on
+the pine groves, with the road from Wellmouth Centre winding out
+from their midst.
+
+All these things Thankful and Emily noticed, but it was on the
+prospect directly ahead that their interest centered.  For there,
+upon the slope of the next knoll stood the "property" they had come
+to see and to which they had been introduced in such an odd fashion.
+
+Seen by daylight and in the glorious sunshine the old Barnes house
+did look, as their guide said, more "lifelike and cheerful."  A
+big, rambling, gray-gabled affair, of colonial pattern, a large
+yard before it and a larger one behind, the tumble-down shed in
+which General Jackson had been tethered, a large barn, also rather
+tumble-down, with henhouses and corncribs beside it and attached to
+it in haphazard fashion.  In the front yard were overgrown clusters
+of lilac and rose bushes and, behind the barn, was the stubble of a
+departed garden.  Thankful looked at all these.
+
+"So that's it," she said.
+
+"That's it," said Captain Obed.  "What do you think of it?"
+
+"Humph!  Well, there's enough of it, anyhow, as the little boy said
+about the spring medicine.  What do you think, Emily?"
+
+Emily's answer was prompt and emphatic.
+
+"I like it," she declared.  "It looks so different this morning.
+Last night it seemed lonesome and pokey and horrid, but now it is
+almost inviting.  Think what it must be in the spring and summer.
+Think of opening those upper windows on a summer morning and
+looking out and away for miles and miles.  It would be splendid!"
+
+"Um--yes.  But spring and summer don't last all the time.  There's
+December and January and February to think of.  Even March ain't
+all joy; we've got last night to prove it by.  However, it doesn't
+look quite so desperate as I thought it might; I'll give in to
+that.  Last night I was about ready to sell it for the price of a
+return ticket to South Middleboro.  Now I guess likely I ought to
+get a few tradin' stamps along with the ticket.  Humph!  This
+sartin isn't ALL Poverty Lane, is it?  THAT place wa'n't built with
+tradin' stamps.  Who lives there?"
+
+She was pointing to the estate adjoining the Barnes house and
+fronting the sea further on.  "Estate" is a much abused term and is
+sometimes applied to rather insignificant holdings, but this one
+deserved the name.  Great stretches of lawns and shrubbery,
+ornamental windmill, greenhouses, stables, drives and a towered and
+turreted mansion dominating all.
+
+"I seem to have aristocratic neighbors, anyhow," observed Mrs.
+Barnes.  "Whose tintype belongs in THAT gilt frame?"
+
+Captain Obed chuckled at the question.
+
+"Why, nobody's just now," he said.  "There was one up to last fall,
+though I shouldn't have called him a tintype.  More of a panorama,
+if you asked me--or him, either.  That place belonged to our
+leadin' summer resident, Mr. Hamilton Colfax, of New York.  There's
+a good view from there, too, but not as fine as this one of yours,
+Mrs. Barnes.  When your uncle, Cap'n Abner, bought this old house
+it used to set over on a part of that land there.  The cap'n didn't
+like the outlook so well as the one from here, so he bought this
+strip and moved the house down.  Quite a job movin' a house as old
+as this one.
+
+"Mr. Colfax died last October," he added, "and the place is for
+sale.  Good deal of a shock, his death was, to East Wellmouth.
+Kind of like takin' away the doughnut and leavin' nothin' but the
+hole.  The Wellmouth Weekly Advocate pretty nigh gave up the ghost
+when Mr. Colfax did.  It always cal'lated on fillin' at least three
+columns with the doin's of the Colfaxes and their 'house parties'
+and such.  All summer it told what they did do and all winter it
+guessed what they was goin' to do.  It ain't been much more than a
+patent medicine advertisin' circular since the blow struck.  Well,
+have you looked enough?  Shall we heave ahead and go aboard your
+craft, Mrs. Barnes?"
+
+They walked on, down the little hill and up the next, and entered
+the front yard of the Barnes house.  There were the marks in the
+mud and sand where the depot-wagon had overturned, but the wagon
+itself was gone.  "Cal'late Winnie S. and his dad come around early
+and towed it home," surmised Captain Obed.  "Seemed to me I smelled
+sulphur when I opened my bedroom window this mornin'.  Guess 'twas
+a sort of floatin' memory of old man Holt's remarks when he went
+by.  That depot-wagon was an antique and antiques are valuable
+these days.  Want to go inside, do you?"
+
+Thankful hesitated.  "I haven't got the key," she said.  "I suppose
+it's at that Badger man's in the village.  You know who I mean,
+Cap'n Bangs."
+
+The captain nodded.
+
+"Christopher S. H. Badger, tinware, groceries, real estate, boots
+and shoes, and insurance," he said.  "Likewise justice of the peace
+and first mate of all creation.  Yes, I know Chris."
+
+"Well, he's been in charge of this property of mine.  He collected
+the rent from that Mr. Eldredge who used to live here.  I had a
+good many letters from him, mainly about paintin' and repairs."
+
+"Um--hum; I ain't surprised.  Chris sells paint as well as tea and
+tinware.  He's got the key, has he?"
+
+"I suppose he has.  I ought to have gone up and got it from him."
+
+"Well, I wouldn't fret about it.  Of course we can't go in the
+front door like the minister and weddin' company, but the kitchen
+door was unfastened last night and I presume likely it's that way
+now.  You haven't any objection to the kitchen door, have you?
+When old Laban lived here it's a safe bet he never used any other.
+Cur'ous old critter, he was."
+
+They entered by the kitchen door.  The inside of the house, like
+the outside, was transformed by day and sunshine.  The rooms
+downstairs were large and well lighted, and, in spite of their
+emptiness, they seemed almost cheerful.
+
+"Whose furniture is this?" asked Thankful, referring to the stove
+and chair and sofa in the dining-room.
+
+"Laban's; that is, it used to be.  When he died he didn't have
+chick nor child nor relation, so fur's anybody knew, and his stuff
+stayed right here.  There wa'n't very much of it.  That is--"  He
+hesitated.
+
+"But, there must have been more than this," said Thankful.  "What,
+became of it?"
+
+Captain Obed shook his head.  "You might ask Chris Badger," he
+suggested.  "Chris sells antiques on the side--the high side."
+
+"Did old Mr. Eldredge live here ALL alone?" asked Emily.
+
+"Yup.  And died all alone, too.  Course I don't mean he was alone
+all the time he was sick.  Most of that time he was out of his head
+and folks could stay with him, but he came to himself occasional
+and when he did he'd fire 'em out because feedin' 'em cost money.
+He wa'n't what you'd call generous, Laban wa'n't."
+
+"Where did he die?" asked Thankful, who was looking out of the
+window.
+
+"Upstairs in the little back bedroom.  Smallest room in the house
+'tis, and folks used to say he slept there 'cause he could heat it
+by his cussin' instead of a stove.  'Most always cussin', he was--
+cussin' and groanin'."
+
+Thankful was silent.  Emily said: "Groaning?  You mean he groaned
+when he was ill?"
+
+"Yes, and when he was well, too.  A habit of his, groanin' was.  I
+don't know why he done it--see himself in the lookin'-glass, maybe;
+that was enough to make anybody groan.  He'd groan in his sleep--or
+snore--or both.  He was the noisiest sleeper ever I set up with.
+Shall we go upstairs?"
+
+The narrow front stairs creaked as loudly in the daytime as they
+had on the previous night, but the long hall on the upper floor was
+neither dark nor terrifying.  Nevertheless it was with just a
+suspicion of dread that Mrs. Barnes approached the large room at
+the end of the hall and the small one adjoining it.  Her common-
+sense had returned and she was naturally brave, but an experience
+such as hers had been is not forgotten in a few hours.  However,
+she was determined that no one should know her feelings; therefore
+she was the first to enter the little room.
+
+"Here's where Laban bunked," said the captain.  "You'd think with
+all the big comf'table bedrooms to choose from he wouldn't pick out
+this two-by-four, would you?  But he did, probably because nobody
+else would.  He was a contrary old rooster, and odd as Dick's hat-
+band."
+
+Thankful was listening, although not to their guide's remarks.  She
+was listening for sounds such as she had heard--or thought she had
+heard--on the occasion of her previous visit to that room.  But
+there were no such sounds.  There was the bed, the patchwork
+comforter, the chair and the pictures on the walls, but when she
+approached that bed there came no disturbing groans.  And, by day,
+the memory of her fright seemed absolutely ridiculous.  For at
+least the tenth time she solemnly resolved that no one should ever
+know how foolish she had been.
+
+Emily uttered an exclamation and pointed.
+
+"Why, Auntie!" she cried.  "Isn't that--where did that lantern come
+from?"
+
+Captain Obed looked where she was pointing.  He stepped forward and
+picked up the overturned lantern.
+
+"That's Darius Holt's lantern, I do believe," he declared.  "The
+one Winnie S. was makin' such a fuss about last night.  How in the
+nation did it get up here?"
+
+Thankful laughed.  "I brought it up," she said.  "I come on a
+little explorin' cruise when Emily dropped asleep on that sittin'-
+room lounge, but I hadn't much more'n got in here when the pesky
+thing went out.  You ought to have seen me hurryin' along that hall
+to get down before you woke up, Emily.  No, come to think of it,
+you couldn't have seen me--'twas too dark to see anything. . . .
+Well," she added, quickly, in order to head off troublesome
+questioning, "we've looked around here pretty well.  What else is
+there to see?"
+
+They visited the garret and the cellar; both were spacious and not
+too clean.
+
+"If I ever come here to live," declared Thankful, with decision,
+"there'll be some dustin' and sweepin' done, I know that."
+
+Emily looked at her in surprise.
+
+"Come here to live!" she repeated.  "Why, Auntie, are you thinking
+of coming here to live?"
+
+Her cousin's answer was not very satisfactory.  "I've been thinkin'
+a good many things lately," she said.  "Some of 'em was even more
+crazy than that sounds."
+
+The inside of the house having been thus thoroughly inspected they
+explored the yard and the outbuildings.  The barn was a large one,
+with stalls for two horses and a cow and a carriage-room with the
+remnants of an old-fashioned carryall in it.
+
+"This is about the way it used to be in Cap'n Abner's day," said
+Captain Obed.  "That carryall belonged to your uncle, the cap'n,
+Mrs. Barnes.  The boys have had it out for two or three Fourth of
+July Antiques and Horribles' parades; 'twon't last for many more by
+the looks of it."
+
+"And what," asked Thankful, "is that?  It looks like a pigsty."
+
+They were standing at the rear of the house, which was built upon a
+slope.  Under the washshed, which adjoined the kitchen, was a
+rickety door.  Beside that door was a boarded enclosure which
+extended both into the yard and beneath the washshed.
+
+Captain Bangs laughed.  "You've guessed it, first crack," he said.
+"It is a pigpen.  Some of Laban's doin's, that is.  He used to keep
+a pig and 'twas too much trouble to travel way out back of the barn
+to feed it, so Labe rigged up this contraption.  That door leads
+into the potato cellar.  Labe fenced off half the cellar to make a
+stateroom for the pig.  He thought as much of that hog as if 'twas
+his own brother, and there WAS a sort of family likeness."
+
+Thankful snorted.  "A pigsty under the house!" she said.  "Well,
+that's all I want to know about THAT man!"
+
+As they were returning along the foot-path by the bluff Captain
+Obed, who had been looking over his shoulder, suddenly stopped.
+
+"That's kind of funny," he said.
+
+"What?" asked Emily.
+
+"Oh, nothin', I guess.  I thought I caught a sight of somebody
+peekin' around the back of that henhouse.  If 'twas somebody he
+dodged back so quick I couldn't be sure.  Humph!  I guess I was
+mistaken, or 'twas just one of Solon Taylor's young ones.  Solon's
+a sort of--sort of stevedore at the Colfax place.  Lives there and
+takes care of it while the owners are away.  No-o; no, I don't see
+nobody now."
+
+Thankful was silent during the homeward walk.  When she and Miss
+Howes were alone in their room, she said:
+
+"Emily, are you real set on gettin' back to South Middleboro
+tonight?"
+
+"No, Auntie.  Why?"
+
+"Well, if you ain't I think I'd like to stay over another day.
+I've got an idea in my head and, such a thing bein' kind of
+unusual, I'd like to keep company with it for a spell.  I'll tell
+you about it by and by; probably 'twon't come to anything, anyway."
+
+"But do you think we ought to stay here, as Miss Parker's guests?
+Wouldn't it be--"
+
+"Of course it would.  We'll go over to that hotel, the one we
+started for in the first place.  Judgin' from what I hear of that
+tavern it'll be wuth experiencin'; and--and somethin' may come of
+that, too."
+
+She would not explain further, and Emily, knowing her well, did not
+press the point.
+
+Hannah Parker protested volubly when her "company" declared its
+intention of going to the East Wellmouth Hotel.
+
+"Of course you shan't do no such thing," she declared.  "The idea!
+It's no trouble at all to have you, and that hotel really ain't fit
+for such folks as you to stay at.  Mrs. Bacon, from Boston, stayed
+there one night in November and she pretty nigh famished with the
+cold, to say nothin' of havin' to eat huckleberry preserves for
+supper two nights runnin'.  Course they had plenty of other things
+in the closet, but they'd opened a jar of huckleberries, so they
+had to be et up afore they spiled.  That's the way they run THAT
+hotel.  And Mrs. Bacon is eastern Massachusetts delegate from the
+State Grange.  She's Grand Excited Matron.  Just think of treatin'
+her that way!  Well, where've you been all the forenoon?"
+
+The question was addressed to her brother, who entered the house by
+the side door at that moment.  Kenelm seemed a trifle confused.
+
+"I--I been lookin' for that umbrella, Hannah," he explained.  "I
+knew I must have left it somewheres 'cause--'cause, you see I--I
+took it out with me last night and--and--"
+
+"And come home without it.  It wouldn't take a King Solomon to know
+that.  Did you find it?"
+
+Kenelm's embarrassment appeared to increase.
+
+"Well," he stammered, "I ain't exactly found it--but--"
+
+"But what?"
+
+"I--I'm cal'latin' to find it, Hannah."
+
+"Yes, I know.  You're cal'latin' to get to Heaven some time or
+other, I s'pose, but if the path is as narrow and crooked as they
+say 'tis I should he scared if I was you.  You'll find a way to
+lose it, if there is one.  Oh, dear me!" with a sudden change to a
+tone almost pleading.  "Be you goin' to smoke again?"
+
+Kenelm's reply was strange for him.  He scratched a match and lit
+his pipe with calm deliberation.
+
+"I'm cal'latin' to," he said, cheerfully.  And his sister, to the
+surprise of Mrs. Barnes and Emily, did not utter another word of
+protest.
+
+Captain Obed volunteered to accompany them to the hotel and to the
+store of Mr. Badger.  On the way Thankful mentioned Mr. Parker's
+amazing independence in the matter of the pipe.
+
+The captain chuckled.  "Yes," he said, "Kenelm smokes when he wants
+to, and sometimes when he don't, I guess, just to keep his self-
+respect.  Smokin' is one p'int where he beat out Hannah.  It's
+quite a yarn, the way he done it is.  Some time I'll tell it to
+you, maybe."
+
+The hotel--it was kept by Darius Holt, father of Winnie S.--was no
+more inviting than Miss Parker's and Captain Bangs' hints had led
+them to expect.  But Thankful insisted on engaging a room for the
+night and on returning there for dinner, supper and breakfast the
+following day.
+
+"After that, we'll see," she said.  "Now let's go and make a call
+on that rent collector of mine."
+
+Mr. Badger was surprised to meet the owner of the Barnes house,
+surprised and a bit taken aback, so it seemed to Mrs. Barnes and
+her cousin.  He was very polite, almost obsequiously so, and his
+explanations concerning the repairs which he had found it necessary
+to make and the painting which he had had done were lengthy if not
+convincing.
+
+As they left him, smiling and bowing in the doorway of his store,
+Thankful shook her head.  When they were out of earshot she said:
+
+"Hum!  The paint he says he put on that precious property of mine
+don't show as much as you'd expect, but he used enough butter and
+whitewash this morning to make up.  He's a slick party, that Mr.
+Badger is, or I miss my guess.  His business arithmetic don't go
+much further than addition.  Everything in creation added to one
+makes one and he's the one.  Mr. Chris Badger's got jobs enough,
+accordin' to his sign.  He won't starve if he don't collect rents
+for me any more."
+
+The hotel dinner was neither bountiful nor particularly well
+cooked.  The Holts joined them at table and Winnie S. talked a good
+deal.  He expressed much joy at the recovery of his lantern.
+
+"But when I see you folks in that house last night," he said, "I
+thought to myself, 'Judas priest!' thinks I.  'Them women has got
+more spunk than I've got.'  Gettin' into a house like that all
+alone in the dark--Whew!  Judas priest!  I wouldn't do it!"
+
+"Why not?" asked Emily.
+
+"Oh, just 'cause I wouldn't, I suppose.  Now I don't believe in
+such things, of course, but old Laban he did die there.  I never
+heard nothin', but they tell me--"
+
+"Rubbish!" broke in Mr. Holt, Senior.  "'Tain't nothin' but fool
+yarns, the whole of it.  Take an old house, a hundred year old same
+as that is, and shut her up and 'tain't long afore folks do get to
+pretendin' they hear things.  I never heard nothin'.  Have some
+more pie, Miss Howes?  Huh!  There AIN'T no more, is there!"
+
+After dinner Emily retired to her room for a nap.  She did so under
+protest, declaring that she was not tired, but Thankful insisted.
+
+"If you ain't tired now you will be when the excitement's over,"
+she said.  "My conscience is plaguin' me enough about fetchin' you
+on this cruise, as it is.  Just take it as easy as you can, Emily.
+Lie down and rest, and please me."
+
+So Emily obeyed orders and Mrs. Barnes, after drawing the curtains
+and asking over and over again if her cousin was sure she was
+comfortable, went out.  It was late in the afternoon when she
+returned.
+
+"I've been talkin' until my face aches," she declared.  "And my
+mind is about made up to do--to do what may turn out to be the
+craziest thing I ever DID do.  I'll tell you the whole thing after
+supper, Emily.  Let's let my tongue have a vacation till then."
+
+And, after supper, which, by the way, was no better than the
+dinner, she fulfilled her promise.  They retired to the bedroom and
+Thankful, having carefully closed the windows and door and hung a
+towel over the keyhole, told of her half-formed plan.
+
+"Emily," she began, "I presume likely you'll feel that you'd ought
+to go back home tomorrow?  Yes, I knew you'd feel that way.  Well,
+I ain't goin' with you.  I've made up my mind to stay here for a
+few days longer.  Now I'll tell you why.
+
+"You see, Emily," she went on, "my comin' down here to East
+Wellmouth wa'n't altogether for the fun of lookin' at the heirloom
+Uncle Abner left me.  The first thing I wanted to do was see it,
+but when I had seen it, and if it turned out to be what I hoped it
+might be, there was somethin' else.  Emily, Mrs. Pearson's dyin'
+leaves me without a job.  Oh, of course I know I could 'most likely
+get another chance at nursin' or keepin' house for somebody, but,
+to tell you the truth, I'm gettin' kind of tired of that sort of
+thing.  Other folks' houses are like other folks' ailments; they
+don't interest you as much as your own do.  I'm sick of askin'
+somebody else what they want for dinner; I'd like to get my own
+dinner, or, at least, if somebody else is to eat with me, I want to
+decide myself what they'll have to eat.  I want to run my own house
+once more afore I die.  And it seems--yes, it seems to me as if
+here was the chance; nothin' but a chance, and a risky one, but a
+chance just the same.  Emily, I'm thinkin' of fixin' up Uncle
+Abner's old rattletrap and openin' a boardin'-house for summer
+folks in it.
+
+"Yes, yes; I know," she continued, noticing the expression on her
+companion's face.  "There's as much objection to the plan as there
+is slack managin' in this hotel, and that's some consider'ble.
+Fust off, it'll cost money.  Well; I've saved a little money and
+those cranberry bog shares Mrs. Pearson left me will sell for two
+thousand at least.  That would be enough, maybe, if I wanted to
+risk it all, but I don't.  I've got another scheme.  This property
+of mine down here is free and clear, but, on account of its
+location and the view, Cap'n Bangs tells me it's worth consider'ble
+more than I thought it was.  I believe--yes, I do believe I could
+put a mortgage on it for enough to pay for the fixin' over, maybe
+more."
+
+Emily interrupted.
+
+"But, Auntie," she said, "a mortgage is a debt, isn't it?  A debt
+that must be paid.  And if you borrow from a stranger--"
+
+"Just a minute, Emily.  Course a mortgage is a debt, but it's a
+debt on the house and land and, if worse comes to worst, the house
+and land can go to pay for it.  And I don't mean to borrow from a
+stranger, if I can help it.  I've got a relation down here on the
+Cape, although he's a pretty fur-off, round-the-corner relation,
+third cousin, or somethin' like that.  His name's Solomon Cobb and
+he lives over to Trumet, about nine mile from here, so Cap'n Bangs
+says.  And he and Uncle Abner used to sail together for years.  He
+was mate aboard the schooner when Uncle Abner died on a v'yage from
+Charleston home.  This Cobb man is a tight-fisted old bachelor,
+they say, but his milk of human kindness may not be all skimmed.
+And, anyhow, he does take mortgages; that's the heft of his
+business--I got that from the cap'n without tellin' him what I
+wanted to know for."
+
+Miss Howes smiled.
+
+"You and Captain Bangs have been putting your heads together, I
+see," she said.
+
+"Um--hm.  And his head ain't all mush and seeds like a pumpkin, if
+I'm any judge.  The cap'n tells me that east Wellmouth needs a good
+summer boardin'-house.  This--this contraption we're in now is the
+nighest thing there is to it, and that's as far off as dirt is from
+soap; you can see that yourself.  'Cordin' to Cap'n Bangs, lots and
+lots of city people would come here summers if there was a
+respectable, decent place to go to.  Now, Emily, why can't I give
+'em such a place?  Seems to me I can.  Anyhow, if I can mortgage
+the place to Cousin Sol Cobb I think--yes, I'm pretty sure I shall
+try.  Now what do you think?  Is your Aunt Thankful Barnes losin'
+her sense--always providin' she's ever had any to lose--or is she
+gettin' to be a real business woman at last?"
+
+Emily's reply was at first rather doubtful.  She raised one
+objection after the other, but Mrs. Barnes was always ready with an
+answer.  It was plain that she had looked at her plan from every
+angle.  And, at last, Miss Howes, too, became almost enthusiastic.
+
+"I do believe," she said, "it may turn out to be a splendid thing
+for you, Auntie.  At least, I'm sure you will succeed if anyone
+can.  Oh dear!" wistfully.  "I only wish it were possible for me to
+stay here and help with it all.  But I can't--I can't.  Mother and
+the children need the money and I must go back to my school."
+
+Thankful nodded.  "Yes," she admitted, "I suppose likely you must,
+for the present.  But--but if it SHOULD be a go and I SHOULD see
+plainer sailin' ahead, then I'd need somebody to help manage,
+somebody younger and more up-to-date than I am.  And I know mighty
+well who I shall send for."
+
+They talked for a long time, but at last, after they were in bed
+and the lamp was extinguished, Emily said:
+
+"I hate to go back and leave you here, Auntie; indeed I do.  I
+shall be so interested and excited I shall scarcely be able to wait
+for your letters.  You will write just as soon as you have seen
+this Mr. Cobb, won't you?"
+
+"Yes, sartin sure I will.  I know it's goin' to be hard for you to
+go and leave me, Emily, but I shan't be havin' a Sunday-school
+picnic, exactly, myself.  From what I used to hear about Cousin
+Solomon, unless he's changed a whole lot since, gettin' a dollar
+from him won't be as easy as pullin' a spoon out of a kittle of
+soft-soap.  I'll have to do some persuadin', I guess.  Wish my
+tongue was as soothin'-syrupy as that Mr. Badger's is.  But I'm
+goin' to do my best.  And if talkin' won't do it I'll--I swear I
+don't know as I shan't give him ether.  Maybe he'd take THAT if he
+could get it for nothin'.  Good night."
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+"Well," said Thankful, with a sigh, "she's gone, anyhow.  I feel
+almost as if I'd cut my anchor rope and was driftin' out of sight
+of land.  It's queer, ain't it, how you can make up your mind to do
+a thing, and then, when you've really started to do it, almost wish
+you hadn't.  Last night--yes, and this mornin'--I was as set on
+carryin' through this plan of mine as a body could be, but just
+now, when I saw Emily get aboard those cars, it was all I could do
+to keep from goin' along with her."
+
+Captain Obed nodded.  "Sartin," he agreed.  "That's natural enough.
+When I was a youngster I was forever teasin' to go to sea.  I
+thought my dad was meaner than a spiled herrin' to keep on sayin'
+no when I said yes.  But when he did say yes and I climbed aboard
+the stagecoach to start for Boston, where my ship was, I never was
+more homesick in my life.  I was later on, though--homesick and
+other kinds."
+
+They were standing on the station platform at Wellmouth Centre, and
+the train which was taking Emily back to South Middleboro was a
+rapidly moving, smoking blur in the distance.  The captain, who
+seemed to have taken a decided fancy to his prospective neighbor
+and her young relative, had come with them to the station.
+Thankful had hired a horse and "open wagon" at the livery stable in
+East Wellmouth and had intended engaging a driver as well, but
+Captain Bangs had volunteered to act in that capacity.
+
+"I haven't got much to do this mornin'," he said.  "Fact is, I
+generally do have more time on my hands than anything else this
+season of the year.  Later on, when I put out my fish weirs, I'm
+pretty busy, but now I'm a sort of 'longshore loafer.  You're
+figurin' to go to Trumet after you've seen Miss Emily leave the
+dock, you said, didn't you?  Well, I've got an errand of my own in
+Trumet that might as well be done now as any time.  I'll drive you
+over and back if you're willin' to trust the vessel in my hands.  I
+don't set up to be head of the Pilots' Association when it comes to
+steerin' a horse, but I cal'late I can handle any four-legged craft
+you're liable to charter in East Wellmouth."
+
+His offer was accepted and so far he had proved a competent and
+able helmsman.  Now, Miss Howes having been started on her homeward
+way, the next port of call was to be the office of Mr. Solomon Cobb
+at Trumet.
+
+During the first part of the drive Thankful was silent and answered
+only when spoken to.  The parting with Emily and the sense of heavy
+responsibility entailed by the project she had in mind made her
+rather solemn and downcast.  Captain Obed, noticing this, and
+suspecting the cause, chatted and laughed, and after a time his
+passenger seemed to forget her troubles and to enjoy the trip.
+
+They jogged up the main street of Trumet until they reached the
+little three-cornered "square" which is the business center of the
+village.  Next beyond the barbershop, which is two doors beyond the
+general store and postoffice, was a little one-story building,
+weather-beaten and badly in need of paint.  The captain steered his
+"craft" up to the sidewalk before this building and pulled up.
+
+"Whoa!" he ordered, addressing the horse.  Then, turning to
+Thankful, he said:
+
+"Here you are, ma'am.  This is Sol Cobb's place."
+
+Mrs. Barnes looked at the little building.  Its exterior certainly
+was not inviting.  The windows looked as if they had not been
+washed for weeks, the window shades were yellow and crooked, and
+one of the panes of glass in the front door was cracked across.
+Thankful had not seen her "Cousin Solomon" for years, not since she
+was a young woman, but she had heard stories of his numerous
+investments and business prosperity, and she could scarcely believe
+this dingy establishment was his.
+
+"Are you sure, Cap'n Bangs?" she faltered.  "This can't be the
+Solomon Cobb I mean.  He's well off and it don't seem as if he
+would be in an office like this--if 'tis an office," she added.
+"It looks more like a henhouse to me.  And there's no signs
+anywhere."
+
+The captain laughed.  "Signs cost money," he said.  "It takes paint
+to make a sign, same as it does to keep a henhouse lookin'
+respectable.  This is the only Sol Cobb in Trumet, fur's I ever
+heard, and he's well off, sartin.  He ought to be; I never heard of
+him lettin' go of anything he got hold of.  Maybe you think I'm
+talkin' pretty free about your relation, Mrs. Barnes," he added,
+apologetically.  "I hadn't ought to, I suppose, but I've had one or
+two little dealin's with Sol, one time or 'nother, and I--well,
+maybe I'm prejudiced.  Excuse me, won't you?  He may be altogether
+different with his own folks."
+
+Thankful was still staring at the dubious and forbidding front
+door.
+
+"It doesn't seem as if it could be," she said.  "But if you say so
+of course 'tis."
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I guess 'tis.  That's Sol Cobb's henhouse and the old
+rooster is in, judgin' by the signs.  Those are his rubbers on the
+step.  Wearin' rubbers winter or summer is a habit of his.  Humph!
+I'm talkin' too much again.  You're goin' in, I suppose, ma'am?"
+
+Thankful threw aside the carriage robe and prepared to clamber from
+the wagon.
+
+"I surely am," she declared.  "That's what I came way over here
+for."
+
+The captain sprang to the ground and helped her to alight.
+
+"I'll be right across the road at the store there," he said.  "I'll
+be on the watch when you came out.  I--I--"
+
+He hesitated.  Evidently there was something else he wished to say,
+but he found the saying difficult.  Thankful noticed the hesitation.
+
+"Yes, what was it, Cap'n Bangs?" she asked.
+
+Captain Obed fidgeted with the reins.
+
+"Why, nothin', I guess," he faltered.  "Only--only--well, I tell
+you, Mrs. Barnes, if--if you was figgerin' on doin' any business
+with Mr. Cobb, any money business, I mean, and--and you'd rather go
+anywheres else I--I--well, I'm pretty well acquainted round here on
+the Cape amongst the bank folks and such and I'd be real glad to--"
+
+Thankful interrupted.  She had, after much misgiving and reluctance,
+made up her mind to approach her distant relative with the mortgage
+proposition, but to discuss that proposition with strangers was, to
+her mind, very different.  She had mentioned the proposed mortgage
+to Emily, but she had told no one else, not even the captain
+himself.  And she did not mean to tell.  The boarding house plan
+must stand or fall according to Mr. Cobb's reception of it.
+
+"No, no," she said, hastily.  "It ain't anything important--that
+is, very important."
+
+"Well, all right.  You see--I only meant--excuse me, Mrs. Barnes.
+I hope you don't think I meant to be nosey or interferin' in your
+affairs."
+
+"Of course I don't.  You've gone to a lot of trouble on my account
+as 'tis, and you've been real kind."
+
+The captain hurriedly muttered that he hadn't been kind at all and
+watched her as she walked up the short path to Mr. Cobb's front
+door.  Then, with a solemn shake of the head, he clinched again at
+the wagon seat and drove across the road to the hitching-posts
+before the store.  Thankful opened the door of the "henhouse" and
+entered.
+
+The interior of the little building was no mare inviting than its
+outside.  One room, dark, with a bare floor, and with cracked
+plastered walls upon which a few calendars and an ancient map were
+hanging.  There was a worn wooden settee and two wooden armchairs
+at the front, near the stove, and at the rear an old-fashioned
+walnut desk.
+
+At this desk in a shabby, leather-cushioned armchair, sat a little
+old man with scant gray hair and a fringe of gray throat whiskers.
+He wore steel-rimmed spectacles and over these he peered at his
+visitor.
+
+"Good mornin'," said Thankful.  It seemed to her high time that
+someone said something, and the little man had not opened his lips.
+He did not open them even now.
+
+"Um," he grunted, and that was all.
+
+"Are you Mr. Solomon Cobb?" she asked.  She knew now that he was;
+he had changed a great deal since she had last seen him, but his
+eyes had not changed, and he still had the habit she remembered,
+that of pulling at his whiskers in little, short tugs as if trying
+to pull them out.  "Like a man hauling wild carrots out of a turnip
+patch," she wrote Emily when describing the interview.
+
+He did not answer the question.  Instead, after another long look,
+he said:
+
+"If you're sellin' books, I don't want none.  Don't use 'em."
+
+This was so entirely unexpected that Mrs. Barnes was, for the
+moment, confused and taken aback.
+
+"Books!" she repeated, wonderingly.  "I didn't say anything about
+books.  I asked you if you was Mr. Cobb."
+
+Another look.  "If you're sellin' or peddlin' or agentin' or
+anything I don't want none," said the little man.  "I'm tellin' you
+now so's you can save your breath and mine.  I've got all I want."
+
+Thankful looked at him and his surroundings.  This ungracious and
+unlooked for reception began to have its effect upon her temper; as
+she wrote Emily in the letter, her "back fin began to rise."  It
+was on the tip of her tongue to say that, judging by appearances,
+he should want a good many things, politeness among others.  But
+she did not say it.
+
+"I ain't a peddler or a book agent," she declared, crisply.  "When
+I ask you to buy, seems to me 'twould be time enough to say no.  If
+you're Solomon Cobb, and I know you are, I've come to see you on
+business."
+
+The word "business" had an effect.  Mr. Cobb swung about in his
+chair and regarded her fixedly.  There was a slight change in his
+tone.
+
+"Business, hey?" he repeated.  "Well, I'm a business man, ma'am.
+What sort of business is it you've got?"
+
+Thankful did not answer the question immediately.  Instead she
+walked nearer to the desk.
+
+"Yes," she said, slowly, "you're Solomon Cobb.  I should know you
+anywhere now.  And I ain't seen you for twenty year.  I presume
+likely you don't know me."
+
+The man of business stared harder than ever.  He took off his
+spectacles, rubbed them with his handkerchief, put them on and
+stared again.
+
+"No, ma'am, I don't," he said.  "You don't live in Trumet, I know
+that.  You ain't seen me for twenty year, eh?  Twenty year is quite
+a spell.  And yet there's somethin' sort of--sort of familiar about
+you, now that I look closer.  Who be you?"
+
+"My name is Thankful Barnes--now.  It didn't used to be.  When you
+knew me 'twas Thankful Cahoon.  My grandmother, on my father's
+side, was your mother's own cousin.  Her name was Matilda Myrick.
+That makes you and me sort of distant relations, Mr. Cobb."
+
+If she expected this statement to have the effect of making the
+little man more cordial she was disappointed.  In fact, if it had
+any effect at all, it was the opposite, judging by his manner and
+expression.  His only comments on the disclosure of kinship were a
+"Humph!" and a brief "Want to know!"  He stared at Thankful and she
+at him.  Then he said:
+
+"Well?"
+
+Mrs. Barnes was astonished.
+
+"Well?" she repeated.  "What's well?  What do you mean by that?"
+
+"Nothin's I know of.  You said you came to see me about some
+business or other.  What sort of business?"
+
+"I came to see you about gettin' some money.  I need some money
+just now and--"
+
+Solomon interrupted her.
+
+"Humph!" he grunted.  "I cal'lated as much."
+
+"You cal'lated it!  For the land sakes--why?"
+
+"Because you begun by sayin' you was a relation of mine.  I've got
+a good many relations floatin' around loose and there ain't nary
+one of 'em ever come to see me unless 'twas to get money.  If I
+give money to all my relations that asked for it I'd be a dum sight
+poorer'n I be now."
+
+Thankful was by this time thoroughly angry.
+
+"Look here," she snapped.  "If I'd come to you expectin' you to
+GIVE me any money I'd be an idiot as well as a relation.  Far's
+that last part goes I ain't any prouder of it than you are."
+
+This pointed remark had no more effect than the statement of
+relationship.  Mr. Cobb was quite unruffled.
+
+"You came to see me," he said, "and you ain't come afore for twenty
+year--you said so.  Now, when you do come, you want money, you said
+that, too."
+
+"Well, what of it?"
+
+"Nothin' of it, 'special.  Only when a party comes to me and
+commences by sayin' he or she's a relation I know what's comin'
+next.  Relations!  Humph!  My relations never done much for me."
+
+Thankful's fingers twitched.  "'Cordin' to all accounts you never
+done much for them, either," she declared.  "You don't even ask 'em
+to sit down.  Well, you needn't worry so far's I'm concerned.
+Good-by."
+
+She was on her way out of the office, but he called her back.
+
+"Hi, hold on!" he called.  "You ain't told me what that business
+was yet.  Come back!  You--you can set down, if you want to."
+
+Thankful hesitated.  She was strongly tempted to go and never
+return.  And yet, if she did, she must go elsewhere to obtain the
+mortgage she wished.  And to whom should she go?  Reluctantly she
+retraced her steps.
+
+"Set down," said Mr. Cobb, pulling forward a chair.  "Now what is
+it you want?"
+
+Mrs. Barnes sat down.  "I'll tell you what I don't want," she said
+with emphasis.  "I don't want you to give me any money or to lend
+me any, either--without it's bein' a plain business deal.  I ain't
+askin' charity of you or anybody else, Solomon Cobb.  And you'd
+better understand that if you and I are goin' to talk any more."
+
+Mr. Cobb tugged at his whiskers.
+
+"You've got a temper, ain't you," he declared.  "Temper's a good
+thing to play with, maybe, if you can afford it.  I ain't rich
+enough, myself.  I've saved a good many dollars by keepin' mine.
+If you don't want me to give you nor lend you money, what do you
+want?"
+
+"I want you to take a mortgage on some property I own.  You do take
+mortgages, don't you?"
+
+More whisker pulling.  Solomon nodded.
+
+"I do sometimes," he admitted; "when I cal'late they're safe to
+take.  Where is this property of yours?"
+
+"Over in East Wellmouth.  It's the old Abner Barnes place.  Cap'n
+Abner willed it to me.  He was my uncle."
+
+And at last Mr. Cobb showed marked interest.  Slowly he leaned back
+in his chair.  His spectacles fell from his nose into his lap and
+lay there unheeded.
+
+"What?  What's that you say?" he asked, sharply.  "Abner Barnes was
+your uncle?  I--I thought you said your name was Cahoon."
+
+"I said it used to be afore I was married, when I knew you.
+Afterwards I married Eben Barnes, Cap'n Abner's nephew.  That made
+the captain my uncle by marriage."
+
+Solomon's fingers groped for his spectacles.  He picked them up and
+took his handkerchief from his pocket.  But it was his forehead he
+rubbed with his handkerchief, not the glasses.
+
+"You're--you're Abner Barnes' niece!" he said slowly.
+
+"Yes--niece by marriage."
+
+"The one he used to talk so much about?  What was her name--
+Patience--Temp'rance--"
+
+"Thankful--that's my name.  I presume likely Uncle Abner did use to
+talk about me.  He always declared he thought as much of me as if I
+was his own child."
+
+There was an interval of silence.  Mr. Cobb replaced his spectacles
+and stared through them at his visitor.  His manner was peculiar--
+markedly so.
+
+"I went mate for Cap'n Abner a good many v'yages," he said, after a
+moment.
+
+"Yes, I know you did."
+
+"He--he told you so, I suppose."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What else did he tell you; about--about me, I mean?"
+
+"Why, nothin' 'special that I know of.  Why?  What was there to
+tell?"
+
+"Nothin'.  Nothin' much, I guess.  Abner and me was sort of--sort
+of chums and I didn't know but he might have said--might have told
+you considerable about me.  He didn't, hey?"
+
+"No.  He told me you was his mate, that's all."
+
+It may have been Thankful's imagination, but it did seem as if her
+relative was a trifle relieved.  But even yet he did not seem quite
+satisfied.  He pulled at his whiskers and asked another question.
+
+"What made you come here to me?" he asked.
+
+"Mercy on us!  I've told you that, haven't I?  I came to see about
+gettin' a mortgage on his old place over to East Wellmouth.  I knew
+you took mortgages--at least folks said you did--and bein' as you
+was a relation I thought--"
+
+A wave of the hand interrupted her.
+
+"Yes, yes," broke in Solomon, hastily.  "I know that.  Was that the
+only reason?"
+
+"I presume likely 'twas.  I did think it was a natural one and
+reason enough, but I guess THAT was a mistake.  It looks as if
+'twas."
+
+She made a move to rise, but he leaned forward and detained her.
+
+"There! there!" he said.  "Set still, set still.  So you're Abner
+Barnes' niece?"
+
+"My soul!  I've told you so three times."
+
+"Abner's niece!  I want to know!"
+
+"Well, I should think you might know by this time.  Now about that
+mortgage."
+
+"Hey?  Oh, yes--yes!  You want a mortgage on Abner's place over to
+East Wellmouth.  Um!  Well, I know the property and about what it's
+wuth--which ain't much.  What are you cal'latin' to do--live
+there?"
+
+"Yes, if I can carry out the plan I've got in my head.  I'm
+thinkin' of fixin' up that old place and livin' in it.  I'm
+figgerin' to run it as a boardin'-house.  It'll cost money to put
+it in shape and a mortgage is the simplest way of raisin' that
+money, I suppose.  That's the long and short of it."
+
+The dealer in mortgages appeared to hear and there was no reason
+why he should not have understood.  But he seemed still
+unsatisfied, even suspicious.  The whiskers received another series
+of pulls and he regarded Thankful with the same questioning stare.
+
+"And you say," he drawled, "that you come to me just because--"
+
+"Mercy on us!  If you don't know why I come by this time, then--"
+
+"All right, all right.  I--I'm talkin' to myself, I guess.  Course
+you told me why you come.  So you're cal'latin' to start a
+boardin'-house, eh?  Risky things, boardin'-houses are.  There's a
+couple of hundred launched every year and not more'n ten ever make
+a payin' v'yage.  Let's hear what your plan is, the whole of it."
+
+Fighting down her impatience Thankful went into details concerning
+her plan.  She explained why she had thought of it and her growing
+belief that it might be successful.  Mr. Cobb listened.
+
+"Humph!" he grunted, when she had finished.  "So Obed Bangs advised
+you to try it, hey?  That don't make me think no better of it, as I
+know of.  I know Bangs pretty well."
+
+"Yes," dryly; "I supposed likely you did.  Anyhow, he said he knew
+you."
+
+"He did, hey?  Told you some things about me, hey?"
+
+"No, he didn't tell me anything except that you and he had had some
+dealin's.  Now, Mr. Cobb, we've talked a whole lot and it don't
+seem to me we got anywheres.  If you don't want to take a mortgage
+on that place--"
+
+"Sshh!  Who said I didn't want to take it?  How do I know what I
+want to do yet?  Lord!  How you women do go on!  Suppose I should
+take a mortgage on that place--mind, I don't say I will, but
+suppose I should--how would I know that the mortgage would be paid,
+or the interest, or anything?"
+
+"If it ain't paid you can foreclose when the time comes, I presume
+likely.  As for the interest--well, I'm fairly honest, or I try to
+be, and that'll be paid reg'lar if I live."
+
+"Ya'as.  Well, fur's honesty goes, I could run a seine through
+Ostable County any day in the week and load a schooner with honest
+folks; and there wouldn't nary one of 'em have cash enough to pay
+for the wear and tear on the net.  Honesty's good policy, maybe,
+but it takes hard money to pay bills."
+
+Thankful stood up.
+
+"All right," she said, decidedly, "then I'll go where they play the
+honest game.  And you needn't set there and weed your face any more
+on my account."
+
+Mr. Cobb rose also.  "There! there!" he protested.  "Don't get het
+up.  I don't say I won't take your mortgage, do I?"
+
+"You've said a good deal.  If you say any more of the same kind you
+can say it to yourself.  I tell you, honest, I don't like the way
+you say it."
+
+The owner of the "hen-house" looked as if he wished very much to
+retort in kind.  The glare he gave his visitor prophesied direful
+things.  But he did not retort; nor, to her surprise, did he raise
+his voice or order her off the premises.  Instead his tone, when he
+spoke again, was quiet, even conciliatory.
+
+"I--I'm sorry if I've said anything I shouldn't," he stammered.
+"I'm gettin' old and--and sort of short in my talk, maybe.  I--I--
+there's a good many folks round here that don't like me, 'count of
+my doin' business in a business way, 'stead of doin' it like the
+average poor fool.  I suppose they've been talkin' to you and
+you've got sort of prejudiced.  Well, I don't know's I blame you
+for that.  I shan't hold no grudge.  How much of a mortgage do you
+cal'late to want on Abner's place?"
+
+"Two thousand dollars."
+
+"Two thousand! . . .  There, there!  Hold on, hold on!  Two
+thousand dollars is a whole lot of money.  It don't grow on every
+bush."
+
+"I know that as well as you do.  If I did I'd have picked it afore
+this."
+
+"Um--hm.  How long a time do you want?"
+
+"I don't know.  Three years, perhaps."
+
+Solomon shook his head.
+
+"Too long," he said.  "I couldn't give as long a mortgage as that
+to anybody.  No, I couldn't do it. . . .  Tell you what I will do,"
+he added.  "I--I don't want to act mean to a relation.  I think as
+much of relations as anybody does.  I'd like to favor you and I
+will if I can.  You give me a week to think this over in and then
+I'll let you know what I'll do.  That's fair, ain't it?"
+
+Mrs. Barnes declined the offer.
+
+"It may be fair to you," she said, "but I can't wait so long.  I
+want to settle this afore I go back to South Middleboro.  And I
+shall go back tomorrow, or the day after at the latest."
+
+Another session of "weeding."  Then said Mr. Cobb: "Well, all
+right, all right.  I'll think it over and then I'll drive across to
+East Wellmouth, have another look at the property, and let you
+know.  I'll see you day after tomorrow forenoon.  Where you
+stoppin' over there?"
+
+Thankful told him.  He walked as far as the door with her.
+
+"Hope you ain't put out with me, ma'am," he said.  "I have to be
+kind of sharp and straight up and down in my dealin's; they'd get
+the weather gauge on me a dozen times a day if I wa'n't.  But I'm
+real kind inside--to them I take a notion to.  I'll--I'll treat you
+right--er--er--Cousin Thankful; you see if I don't.  I'm real glad
+you come to me.  Good day."
+
+Thankful went down the path.  As she reached the sidewalk she
+turned and looked back.  The gentleman with the kind interior was
+standing peering at her through the cracked glass of the door.  He
+was still tugging at his whiskers and if, as he had intimated, he
+had "taken a notion" to her, his expression concealed the fact
+wonderfully.
+
+Captain Obed, who had evidently been on the lookout for his
+passenger, appeared on the platform of the store on the other side
+of the road.  After asking if she had any other "port of call" in
+that neighborhood, he assisted her into the carriage and they
+started on their homeward trip.  The captain must have filled with
+curiosity concerning the widow's interview with Mr. Cobb, but
+beyond asking if she had seen the latter, he did not question.
+Thankful appreciated his reticence; the average dweller in
+Wellmouth--Winnie S., for instance--would have started in on a
+vigorous cross-examination.  Her conviction that Captain Bangs was
+much above the average was strengthened.
+
+"Yes," she said, "he was there.  I saw him.  He's a--a kind of
+queer person, I should say.  Do you know him real well, Cap'n
+Bangs?"
+
+The captain nodded.  "Yes," he said, "I know him about as well as
+anybody outside of Trumet does.  I ain't sure that anybody really
+knows him all the way through.  Queer!" he chuckled.  "Well, yes--
+you might say Sol Cobb was queer and you wouldn't be strainin' the
+truth enough to start a plank.  He's all that and then consider'ble."
+
+"What sort of a man is he?"
+
+"Sol?  Hum!  Well, he's smart; anybody that beats Sol Cobb in a
+trade has got to get up a long ways ahead of breakfast time.  Might
+stay up all night and then not have more leeway than he'd be liable
+to need."
+
+"Yes, Yes, I'm sure he's smart in business.  But is he--is he a
+GOOD man?'
+
+The captain hesitated before replying.
+
+"Git dap!" he ordered, addressing the horse.  "Good?  Is Sol good?
+Well, I cal'late that depends some on what dictionary you hunt up
+the word in.  He's pious, sartin.  There ain't many that report on
+deck at the meetin'-house more reg'lar than he does.  He don't
+cal'late to miss a prayer-meetin' and when there's a revival goin'
+on he's right up front with the mourners.  Folks do say that his
+favorite hymn is 'I'm Glad Salvation's Free' and they heave out
+consider'ble many hints that if 'twa'n't free he wouldn't have got
+it; but then, that's an old joke and I've heard 'em say the same
+thing about other people."
+
+"But do you think he's honest?"
+
+"I never heard of his doin' anything against the law.  He'll skin
+honesty as close as he can, there ain't much hide left when he gets
+through; but I cal'late he thinks he's honest.  And maybe he is--
+maybe he is.  It all depends on the definition, same as I said.
+Sol's pious all right.  I cal'late he'd sue anybody that had a
+doubt as to how many days Josiah went cabin passenger aboard the
+whale.  His notion of Heaven may be a little mite hazy, although
+he'd probably lay consider'ble stress on the golden streets, but
+he's sot and definite about t'other place.  Yes, siree!" he added,
+reflectively, "Sol is sartin there's a mighty uncomf'table Tophet,
+and that folks who don't believe just as he does are bound there.
+And he don't mean to go himself, if 'tendin' up to meetin' 'll keep
+him clear.
+
+"It's kind of queer to me," he went on, slowly, "to see the number
+of folks that make up their minds to be good--or what they call
+good--because they're scared to be bad.  Doin' right because right
+IS right, and lettin' the Almighty credit 'em with that, because
+He's generally supposed to know it's right full well as they do--
+that ain't enough for their kind.  They have to keep hollerin' out
+loud how good they are so He'll hear and won't make any mistake in
+bookin' their own particular passage.  Sort of takin' out a
+religious insurance policy, you might say 'twas. . . .  Humph!" he
+added, coming out of his reverie and looking doubtfully at his
+companion, "I--I hope I ain't shocked you, ma'am.  I don't mean to
+be irreverent, you understand.  I've thought consider'ble about
+such things and I have funny ideas maybe."
+
+Thankful declared that she was not shocked.  She had heard but
+little of her driver's long dissertation.  She was thinking of her
+interview with Mr. Cobb and the probability of his accepting her
+proposal and taking a mortgage on her East Wellmouth property.  If
+he refused, what should she do then?  And if he accepted and she
+went on to carry her plan into execution, what would be the
+outcome?  The responsibility was heavy.  She would be risking all
+she had in the world.  If she succeeded, well and good.  If she
+failed she would be obliged to begin all over again, to try for
+another position as housekeeper, perhaps to "go out nursing" once
+more.  She was growing older; soon she would be beyond middle life
+and entering upon the first stages of old age.  And what a lonely
+old age hers was likely to be!  Her husband was dead; her only near
+relative, brother Jedediah, was--well, he might be dead also, poor
+helpless, dreamy incompetent.  He might have died in the Klondike,
+providing he ever reached that far-off country, which was unlikely.
+He would have been but an additional burden upon her had he lived
+and remained at home, but he would have been company for her at
+least.  Emily was a comfort, but she had little hope of Emily's
+being able to leave her school or the family which her salary as
+teacher helped to support.  No, she must carry her project through
+alone, all alone.
+
+She spoke but seldom and Captain Obed, noticing the change in her
+manner and possibly suspecting the cause, did his best to divert
+her thoughts and cheer her.  He chatted continuously, like, as he
+declared afterwards, "a poll parrot with its bill greased."  He
+changed the topic from Mr. Cobb and his piety to the prospects of
+good fishing in the spring, from that to the failure of the
+previous fall's cranberry crop, and from that again to Kenelm
+Parker and his sister Hannah.  And, after a time, Thankful realized
+that he was telling a story.
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+"Takin' other folks' advice about your own affairs," began Cap'n
+Obed, "is like a feller readin' patent medicine circulars to find
+somethin' to cure a cold.  Afore he gets through his symptoms have
+developed into bronchitis and pneumony, with gallopin' consumption
+dead ahead.  You never can tell what'll happen.
+
+"You noticed how Hannah Parker sort of riz up when Kenelm started
+smokin' yesterday?  Yes, I know you did, 'cause you spoke of it.
+And you notice, too, how meek and lowly she laid down and give in
+when he kept right on doin' it.  That ain't her usual way with
+Kenelm by a consider'ble sight.  I told you there was quite a yarn
+hitched to that smokin' business.  So there is.
+
+"Kenelm's an old bach, you know.  One time he used to work, or
+pretend to, because he needed the money; but his Aunt Phoebe up to
+Brockton died and left him four or five thousand dollars and he
+ain't worked of any account since.  He's a gentleman now, livin' on
+his income--and his sister.
+
+"Hannah ain't got but precious little money of her own, but she
+knows how to take care of it, which her brother don't.  She was
+housekeepin' for some folks at Wapatomac, but when the inheritances
+landed she headed straight for East Wellmouth, rented that little
+house they're in now, and took charge of Kenelm.  He wa'n't
+overanxious to have her do it, but that didn't make any difference.
+One of her pet bugaboos was that, now her brother was well-off--
+'cordin' to her idea of well-offness--some designin' woman or other
+would marry him for his money.  Down she come, first train, and
+she's been all hands and the cook, yes, and paymaster--with Kenelm
+a sort of steerage passenger, ever since.  She keeps watch over him
+same as the sewin' circle does over the minister's wife, and it's
+'No Anchorage for Females' around that house, I can tell you.
+
+"Another of her special despisin's--next to old maids and young
+widows--used to be tobacco smoke.  We had a revival preacher in
+East Wellmouth that first winter and he stirred up things like a
+stick in a mudhole.  He was young and kind of good-lookin', with a
+voice like the Skakit foghorn, and he took the sins of the world in
+his mouth, one after the other, as you might say, and shook 'em
+same's a pup would a Sunday bunnit.  He laid into rum and rum
+sellin', and folks fairly got in line to sign the pledge.  'Twas
+'Come early and avoid the rush.'  Got so that Chris Badger hardly
+dast to use alcohol in his cigar-lighter.
+
+"Then, havin' dried us up, that revival feller begun to smoke us
+out.  He preached six sermons on the evils of tobacco, and every
+one was hotter'n the last.  Accordin' to him, if you smoked now
+you'd burn later on.  Lots of the men folks threw their pipes away,
+and took to chewin' slipp'ry ellum.
+
+"Now, Kenelm smoked like a peat fire.  He lit up after breakfast
+and puffed steadily until bedtime, only puttin' his pipe down to
+eat, or to rummage in his pocket for more tobacco.  Hannah got him
+to go to one of the anti-tobacco meetin's.  He set through the
+whole of it, interested as could be.  Then, when 'twas over, he
+stopped in the church entry to load up his pipe, and walked home
+with his sister, blowin' rings and scratchin' matches and talkin'
+loud about how fine the sermon was.  He talked all next day about
+that sermon; said he'd go every night if they'd let you smoke in
+there.
+
+"So Hannah was set back a couple of rows, but she wa'n't
+discouraged--not by a forty fathom.  She got after her brother
+mornin', noon and night about the smokin' habit.  The most provokin'
+part of it, so she said, was that he always agreed with her.
+
+"'It's ruinin' your health,' she'd say.
+
+"'Yes,' says Kenelm, lookin' solemn, 'I cal'late that's so.  I've
+been feelin' poorly for over a year now.  Worries me consider'ble.
+Pass me that plug on the top of the clock, won't you, Hannah?'
+
+"Now what can you do with a feller like that?
+
+"She couldn't start him with fussin' about HIS health, so she swung
+over on a new tack and tried her own.  She said so much smoke in
+the house was drivin' her into consumption, and she worked up a
+cough that was a reg'lar graveyard quickstep.  I heard her
+practicin' it once, and, I swan, there was harps and halos all
+through it!
+
+"That cough made Kenelm set up and take notice; and no wonder.  He
+listened to a hundred or so of Hannah's earthquakes, and then he
+got up and pranced out of the house.  When he came back the doctor
+was with him.
+
+"Now, this wa'n't exactly what his sister was lookin' for.  She
+didn't want to see the doctor.  But Kenelm said she'd got to have
+her lungs sounded right off, and he guessed they'd have to use a
+deep-sea lead, 'cause that cough seemed to come from the
+foundations.  He waylaid the doctor after the examination was over
+and asked all kinds of questions.  The doctor tried to keep a
+straight face, but I guess Kenelm smelt a rat.
+
+"Anyway, Hannah coughed for a day or two more, and then her brother
+come totin' in a big bottle of med'cine.
+
+"'There!' he says.  'That'll fix you!'
+
+"'Where'd you get it?' says she.
+
+"'Down to Henry Tubman's,' he says.
+
+"'Henry Tubman!  What on earth!  Why, Henry Tubman's a horse
+doctor!'
+
+"'I know he is,' says Kenelm, solemn as a roostin' pullet, 'but
+we've been fishin' with the wrong bait.  'Tain't consumption that's
+ailin' you, Hannah; you've got the heaves.'
+
+"So Hannah didn't cough much more, 'cause, when she did, Kenelm
+would trot out the bottle of horse med'cine, and chuck overboard a
+couple of barrels of sarcasm.  She tried openin' all the windows,
+sayin' she needed fresh air, but he locked himself up in the
+kitchen and filled that so full of smoke that you had to navigate
+it by dead reckonin'--couldn't see to steer.  So she was about
+ready to give up; somethin' that anybody but a stubborn critter
+like her would have done long afore.
+
+"But one afternoon she was down to the sewin' circle, and the women
+folks there, havin' finished pickin' to pieces the characters of
+the members not on hand, started in to go on about the revivals and
+how much good they was doin'.  'Most everybody had some relation,
+if 'twa'n't nothin' more'n a husband, that had stopped smokin' and
+chewin'.  Everybody had some brand from the burnin' to brag about--
+everybody but Hannah; she could only set there and say she'd done
+her best, but that Kenelm still herded with the goats.
+
+"They was all sorry for her, but the only one that had any advice
+to give was Abbie Larkin, she that was Abbie Dillin'ham 'fore she
+married old man Larkin.  Larkin had one foot in the grave when she
+married him, and she managed to crowd the other one in inside of a
+couple of years afterward.  Abbie is a widow, of course, and she is
+middlin' good-lookin' and dresses pretty gay.  Larkin left her a
+little money, but I guess she's run through most of it by this
+time.  The circle folks was dyin' to talk about her, but she was
+always on hand so early that they hardly ever got a chance.
+
+"Well, after supper was over, Abbie gets Hannah over in a corner,
+and says she:
+
+"'Miss Parker,' says she, 'here's an advertisement I cut out of the
+paper and saved a-purpose for you.  I want you to look at it, but
+you mustn't tell anybody I gave it to you.'
+
+"So Hannah unfurls the piece of newspaper, and 'twas an
+advertisement of 'Kill-Smudge,' the sure cure for the tobacco
+habit.  You could give it to the suff'rer unbeknownst to him, in
+his tea or soup or somethin', and in a couple of shakes he'd no
+more smoke than he'd lend money to his brother-in-law, or do any
+other ridic'lous thing.  There was testimonials from half a dozen
+women that had tried it, and everyone showed a clean bill.
+
+"Hannah read the advertisement through twice.  'Well, I never!'
+says she.
+
+"'Yes,' says Abbie, and smiles.
+
+"'Of course,' says Hannah, lookin' scornful, 'I wouldn't think of
+tryin' the stuff, but I'll just take this home and read it over.
+It's so curious,' she says.
+
+"'Ain't it?' says Abbie, and smiles some more.
+
+"So that night, when Kenelm sat by the stove, turnin' the air blue,
+his sister set at the other side of the table with that
+advertisement hid behind the Wellmouth Advocate readin' and
+thinkin'.  She wrote a letter afore she went to bed and bought a
+dollar's worth of stamps at the postoffice next day.  And for a
+week she watched the mails the way one of these city girls does
+when the summer's 'most over and eight or nine of her fellers have
+finished their vacations and gone back to work.
+
+"About ten days after that Kenelm begins to feel kind of off his
+feed, so's to speak.  Somethin' seemed to ail him and he couldn't
+make out what 'twas.  They'd had a good many cranberries on their
+bog that year and Hannah'd been cookin' 'em up fast so's they
+wouldn't spile.  But one night she brings on a cranberry pie, and
+Kenelm turned up his nose at it.
+
+"'More of that everlastin' sour stuff!' he snorts.  'I've et
+cranb'ries till my stomach's puckered up as if it worked with a
+gath'rin' string.  Take it away!  I don't want it!'
+
+"'But, Kenelm, you're always so fond of cranb'ry pie.'
+
+"'Me?  It makes me shrivel just to look at it.  Pass that sugar
+bowl, so's I can sweeten ship.'
+
+"Next day 'twas salt fish and potatoes that wa'n't good.  He'd been
+teasin' for a salt-fish dinner for ever so long, so Hannah'd fixed
+up this one just to please him, but he swallered two or three
+knifefuls and then looked at her kind of sad and mournful.
+
+"'To think,' says he, 'that I've lived all these years to be
+p'isoned fin'lly!  And by my own sister, too!  Well, that's what
+comes of bein' wuth money.  Give me my pipe and let me forget my
+troubles.'
+
+"'Course this kind of talk made Hannah mad, but she argued that
+'twas the Kill-Smudge gettin' in its work, so she put a double dose
+into his teacup that night, and trusted in Providence.
+
+"And the next day she noticed that he swallered hard between every
+pull at his pipe, and when, at last, he jumped out of his chair,
+let out a swear word and hove his pipe at the cat, she felt
+consider'ble encouraged.  She thought 'twas her duty, however, to
+warn him against profane language, but the answer she got was so
+much more prayerful than his first remarks, that she come about and
+headed for the sittin'-room quick.
+
+"Well, to make a long yarn short, the Kill-Smudge done the
+bus'ness.  Kenelm stuck to smokin' till he couldn't read a cigar
+sign without his ballast shiftin', and then he give it up.  And--as
+you might expect from that kind of a man--he was more down on
+tobacco than the Come-Outer parson himself.  He even got up in
+revival meetin' and laid into it hammer and tongs.  He was the best
+'horrible example' they had, and Hannah was so proud of him that
+she couldn't sleep nights.  She still stuck to the Kill-Smudge,
+though--layin' in a fresh stock every once in a while--and she
+dosed the tea about every other day, so's her brother wouldn't run
+no danger of relapse.  I'm 'fraid Kenelm didn't get any too much
+joy out of his meals.
+
+"And so everything was all right--'cordin' to Hannah's reckonin'--
+and it might have stayed all right if she hadn't took that trip to
+Washington.  Etta Ellis was goin' on a three weeks' cut-rate
+excursion, and she talked so much about it, that Hannah got
+reckless and fin'lly said she'd go, too.
+
+"The only thing that worried her was leavin' Kenelm.  She hated to
+do it dreadful, but he seemed tame enough and promised to change
+his flannels if it got cold, and to feed the cat reg'lar, and to
+stay to home, and one thing and another, so she thought 'twas safe
+to chance it.  She cooked up a lot of pie and frosted cake, and
+wrote out a kind of time-table for him to eat and sleep by, and
+then cried and kissed him good-by.
+
+"The first three days after she was gone Kenelm stayed 'round the
+house and turned in early.  He was feelin' fine, but 'twas awful
+lonesome.  The fourth day, after breakfast, he had a cravin' to
+smoke.  Told me afterward it seemed to him as if he MUST smoke or
+die of the fidgets.  At last he couldn't stand it no longer, but
+turned Hannah's time-table to the wall and went out for a walk.  He
+walked and walked and walked.  It got 'most dinner time and he had
+an appetite that he hadn't had afore for months.
+
+"Just as he was turnin' into the road by the schoolhouse who should
+come out on the piazza of the house on the corner but Abbie Larkin.
+She'd left the door open, and the smell of dinner that blew through
+it was tantalizin'.  Abbie was dressed in her Sunday togs and her
+hair was frizzed till she couldn't wrinkle her forehead.  If the
+truth was known, I cal'late she'd seen Kenelm go past her house on
+the way downtown and was layin' for him when he come back, but she
+acted dreadful surprised.
+
+"'Why, Mr. Parker!' says she.  'how DO you do?  Seems's if I hadn't
+seen you for an age!  Ain't it dreadful lonesome at your house now
+your sister's away?'
+
+"Kenelm colored up some--he always h'isted danger signals when
+women heave in sight--and agreed that 'twas kind of poky bein' all
+alone.  Then they talked about the weather, and about the price of
+coal, and about the new plush coat Cap'n Jabez Bailey's wife had
+just got, and how folks didn't see how she could afford it with
+Jabez out of work, and so on.  And all the time the smell of things
+cookin' drifted through the doorway.  Fin'lly Abbie says, says she:
+
+"'Was you goin' home, Mr. Parker?'
+
+"'Yes, ma'am,' says Kenelm.  'I was cal'latin' to go home and cook
+somethin' for dinner.'
+
+"'Well, there, now!' says Abbie.  'I wonder why I didn't think of
+it afore!  Why don't you come right in and have dinner with me?
+It's ALL ready and there's plenty for two.  DO come, Mr. Parker, to
+please ME!'
+
+"'Course Kenelm said he couldn't, and, likewise, of course, he did.
+'Twas a smashin' dinner--chicken and mashed potatoes and mince pie,
+and the land knows what.  He ate till he was full clear to the
+hatches, and it seemed to him that nothin' ever tasted quite so
+good.  The widow smiled and purred and colored up and said it
+seemed SO good to have a man at the table; seemed like the old days
+when Dan'l--meanin' the late lamented--was on deck, and so forth.
+
+"Then, when the eatin' was over, she says, 'I was expectin' my
+cousin Benjamin down for a week or so, but he can't come.  He's a
+great smoker, and I bought these cigars for him.  You might as well
+use them afore they dry up.'
+
+"Afore Kenelm could stop her she rummaged a handful of cigars out
+of the table drawer in the settin'-room.
+
+"'There!' she says.  'Light right up and be comfortable.  It'll
+seem just like old times.  Dan'l was such a 'smoker!  Oh, my!' and
+she gave a little squeal; 'I forgot you've stopped smokin'.'
+
+"Well, there was the cigars, lookin' as temptin' as a squid to a
+codfish; and there was Kenelm hankerin' for 'em so his fingers
+twitched; and there was Abbie lookin' dreadful disapp'inted, but
+tryin' to make believe she wasn't.  You don't need a spyglass to
+see what happened.
+
+"'I'd like to,' says Kenelm, pickin' up one of the cigars.  'I'd
+like to mighty well, but'--here he bites off the end--''twouldn't
+hardly do, now would it?  You see--'
+
+"'I see,' says Abbie, scratchin' a match; 'but WE'LL never tell.
+We'll have it for our secret; won't we, Mr. Parker?'
+
+"So that's how Kenelm took his first tumble from grace.  He told me
+all about it one day a good while afterward.  He smoked three of
+the cigars afore he went home, and promised to come to supper the
+next afternoon.
+
+"'You DO look so comfortable, Mr. Parker,' purrs Abbie, as sweet
+and syrupy as a molasses stopper.  'It must be SUCH a comfort to a
+man to smoke.  I don't care WHAT the minister says, you can smoke
+here just as much as you want to!  It must be pretty hard to live
+in a house where you can't enjoy yourself.  I shouldn't think it
+would seem like home.  A man like you NEEDS a good home.  Why, how
+I do run on!'
+
+"Oh, there ain't really nothin' the matter with the Widow Larkin--
+so fur's smartness is concerned, there ain't.
+
+"And for five days more Kenelm ate his meals at Abbie's and smoked
+and was happy, happier'n he'd been for months.
+
+"Meantime, Hannah and Etta was visitin' the President--that is to
+say, they was lookin' over the White House fence and sayin' 'My
+stars!' and 'Ain't it elegant!'  Nights, when the sightseein' was
+over, what they did mostly was to gloat over how mean and jealous
+they'd make the untraveled common tribe at sewin' circle feel when
+they got back home.  They could just see themselves workin' on the
+log-cabin quilt for the next sale, and slingin' out little
+reminders like, 'Land sakes!  What we're talkin' about reminds me
+of what Etta and me saw when we was in the Congressional Libr'ry.
+YOU remember that, Etta?'  And that would be Etta's hint to look
+cute and giggle and say, 'Well!  I should say I DID!'  And all the
+rest of the circlers would smile kind of unhealthy smiles and try
+to look as if trips to Washington wa'n't nothin'; THEY wouldn't go
+if you hired 'em to.  You know the game if you've ever been to
+sewin' circle.
+
+"But all this plannin' was knocked in the head by a letter that
+Hannah got on an afternoon about a week after she left home.  It
+was short but there was meat in it.  It said: 'If you want to keep
+your brother from marryin' Abbie Larkin you had better come home
+quick!'  'Twas signed 'A Friend.'
+
+"Did Hannah come home?  Well, didn't she!  She landed at Orham the
+next night.  And she done some thinkin' on the way, too.  She kept
+out of the way of everybody and went straight up to the house.
+'Twas dark and shut up, but the back door key was under the mat, as
+usual, so she got in all right.  The plants hadn't been watered for
+two days, at least; the clock had stopped; the cat's saucer was
+licked dry as a contribution box, and the critter itself was
+underfoot every second, whoopin' for somethin' to eat.  The whole
+thing pretty nigh broke Hannah's heart, but she wa'n't the kind to
+give up while there was a shot in the locker.
+
+"She went to the closet and found that Kenelm's Sunday hat and coat
+was gone.  Then she locked the back door again and cut acrost the
+lots down to Abbie's.  She crept round the back way and peeked
+under the curtain at the settin'-room window.  There set Abbie,
+lookin' sweet and sugary.  Likewise, there was Kenelm, lookin'
+mighty comfortable, with a big cigar in his mouth and more on the
+table side of him.  Hannah gritted her teeth, but she kept quiet.
+
+"About ten minutes after that Chris Badger was consider'ble
+surprised to hear a knock at the back door of his store and to find
+that 'twas Hannah that had knocked.
+
+"'Mr. Badger,' says Hannah, polite and smilin', 'I want to buy a
+box of the best cigars you've got.'
+
+"'Ma'am!' says Chris, thinkin' 'twas about time to send for the
+constable or the doctor--one or t'other.
+
+"'Yes,' says Hannah; 'if you please.  Oh! and, Mr. Badger, please
+don't tell anyone I bought 'em.  PLEASE don't, to oblige me.'
+
+"So Chris trotted out the cigars--ten cents straight, they was--and
+said nothin' to nobody, which is a faculty he has when it pays to
+have it.
+
+"When Kenelm came home that night he was knocked pretty nigh off
+his pins to find his sister waitin' for him.  He commenced a long
+rigmarole about where he'd been, but Hannah didn't ask no
+questions.  She said that Washington was mighty fine, but home and
+Kenelm was good enough for her.  Said the thoughts of him alone had
+been with her every minute, and she just HAD to cut the trip short.
+Kenelm wa'n't any too enthusiastic to hear it.
+
+"Breakfast next mornin' was a dream.  Hannah had been up since five
+o'clock gettin' it ready.  There was everything on that table that
+Kenelm liked 'special.  And it all tasted fine, and he ate enough
+for four.  When 'twas over Hannah went to the closet and brought
+out a bundle.
+
+"'Kenelm,' she says, 'here's somethin' I brought you that'll
+surprise you.  I've noticed since I've been away that about
+everybody smokes--senators and judges, and even Smithsonian
+Institute folks.  And when I see how much comfort they get out of
+it, my conscience hurt me to think that I'd deprived my brother of
+what he got such a sight of pleasure from.  Kenelm, you can begin
+smokin' again right off.  Here's a box of cigars I bought on
+purpose for you; they're the kind the President smokes.'
+
+"Which wa'n't a bad yarn for a church member that hadn't had any
+more practice than Hannah had.
+
+"Well, Kenelm was paralyzed, but he lit up one of the cigars and
+found 'twas better than Abbie's brand.  He asked Hannah what she
+thought the church folks would say, but she said she didn't care
+what they said; her travels had broadened her mind and she couldn't
+cramp herself to the ideas of a little narrow place like East
+Wellmouth.
+
+"Dinner that day was a bigger meal than breakfast, and two of the
+cigars went fine after it.  Kenelm hemmed and hawed and fin'lly
+said that he wouldn't be home to supper; said he'd got to go
+downtown and would get a bite at the Trav'lers' Rest or somewheres.
+It surprised him to find that Hannah didn't raise objections, but
+she didn't, not a one.  Just smiled and said, 'All right,' and told
+him to have a good time.  And Abbie's supper didn't seem so good to
+him that night, and her cigars--bein' five centers--wa'n't in it
+with that Washington box.
+
+"Hannah didn't have dinner the next day until two o'clock, but
+'twas worth waitin' for.  Turkey was twenty-three cents a pound,
+but she had one, and plum puddin', too.  She kept pressin' Kenelm
+to have a little more, so 'twas after three when they got up from
+the table.
+
+"'Twas a rainy, drizzly afternoon and the stove felt mighty homey
+and cozy.  So did the big rocker that Hannah transplanted from the
+parlor to the settin'-room.  That chair had been a kind of sacred
+throne afore, and to set in it had been sort of sacrilegious, but
+there 'twas, and Kenelm didn't object.  And those President cigars
+certainly filled the bill.
+
+"About half-past five Kenelm got up and looked out of the window.
+The rain come spattin' against the pane and the wind whined and
+sounded mean.  Kenelm went back to the chair again.  Then he got up
+and took another observation.  At last he goes back to the chair,
+stretches himself out, puts his feet against the stove, pulls at
+the cigar, and says he:
+
+"'I was cal'latin' to go downtown on a bus'ness trip, same's I did
+last night.  But I guess,' he says--'I guess I won't.  It's too
+comfort'ble here,' says he.
+
+"And I cal'late," said Captain Obed, in conclusion, "that afore
+Hannah turned in that night she gave herself three cheers.  She'd
+gained a tack on Abbie Larkin that had put Abbie out of the race,
+for that time, anyhow."
+
+"But who sent the 'friend' letter?" asked Thankful, whose thoughts
+had been diverted from her own troubles by hearing those of Miss
+Parker.
+
+The captain laughed.
+
+"That's a mystery, even yet," he said.  "I'm pretty sure Hannah
+thinks 'twas Elvira Paine.  Elvira lives acrost the road from Abbie
+Larkin and, bein' a single woman with mighty little hopes of
+recovery, naturally might be expected to enjoy upsettin' anybody
+else's chance.  But, at any rate, Mrs. Barnes, the whole thing
+bears out what I said at the beginnin': takin' other folks' advice
+about your own affairs is mighty risky.  I hope, if you do go ahead
+with your boardin'-house plan, it won't be because I called it a
+good one."
+
+Thankful smiled and then sighed.  "No," she said, "if I go ahead
+with it it'll be because I've made up my mind to, not on account of
+anybody else's advice.  I've steered my own course for quite a long
+spell and I sha'n't signal for a pilot now.  Well, here we are home
+again--or at East Wellmouth anyhow."
+
+"So we be.  Better come right to Hannah's along with me, hadn't
+you?  You must have had enough of the Holt Waldorf-Astory by this
+time."
+
+But Thankful insisted upon going to the hotel and there her new
+friend--for she had begun to think of him as that--left her.  She
+informed him of her intention to remain in East Wellmouth for
+another day and a half and he announced his intention of seeing her
+again before she left.
+
+"Just want to keep an eye on you," he said.  "With all of Mrs.
+Holt's temptin' meals set afore you you may get gout or somethin'
+from overeatin'.  Either that or Winnie S.'ll talk you deef.  I
+feel a kind of responsibility, bein' as I'm liable to be your next-
+door neighbor if that boardin'-house does start up, and I want you
+to set sail with a clean bill of health.  If you sight a
+suspicious-lookin' craft, kind of antique in build, broad in the
+beam and makin' heavy weather up the hills--if you sight that kind
+of craft beatin' down in this direction tomorrow you'll know it's
+me.  Good day."
+
+Thankful lay awake for hours that night, thinking, planning and
+replanning.  More than once she decided that she had been too
+hasty, that her scheme involved too great a risk and that, after
+all, she had better abandon it.  But each time she changed her mind
+and at last fell asleep determining not to think any more about it,
+but to wait until Mr. Cobb came to accept or decline the mortgage.
+Then she would make a final decision.
+
+The next day passed somehow, though it seemed to her as if it never
+would, and early the following forenoon came Solomon himself.  The
+man of business was driving an elderly horse which bore a faint
+resemblance to its owner, being small and thin and badly in need of
+a hairdresser's services.  If the animal had possessed whiskers and
+could have tugged at them Thankful was sure it would have done it.
+
+Solomon tugged at his own whiskers almost constantly during that
+forenoon.  He and Mrs. Barnes visited the "Captain Abner place" and
+Solomon inspected every inch of its exterior.  For some reason or
+other he absolutely refused to go inside.  His conversation during
+the inspection was, for the most part, sniffs and grunts, and it
+was not until it was ended and they stood together at the gate,
+that he spoke to the point, and then only because his companion
+insisted.
+
+"Well!" said Thankful.
+
+Mr. Cobb "weeded."
+
+"Eh?" he said.
+
+"That's what I say--eh?  What are you goin' to do about that
+mortgage, Mr. Cobb?"
+
+More weeding.  Then: "Waal, I--I don't cal'late to want to be
+unreasonable nor nothin', but I ain't real keen about takin' no
+mortgage on that property; not myself, I ain't."
+
+"Well, it is yourself I'm askin' to take it.  So you won't, hey?
+All right; that's all I wanted to know."
+
+"Now--now--now, hold on!  Hold on!  I ain't sayin' I WON'T take it.
+I--I'd like to be accommodatin', 'specially to a relation.  But--"
+
+"Never mind the relation business.  I found out what you think of
+relations afore you found out I was one.  And I ain't askin'
+accommodation.  This is just plain business, seems to me.  Will you
+let me have two thousand dollars on a mortgage on this place?"
+
+Mr. Cobb fidgeted.  "I couldn't let you have that much," he said.
+"I couldn't.  I--I--" he wrenched the next sentence loose after
+what seemed a violent effort, "I might let you have half of it--a
+thousand, say."
+
+But Thankful refused to say a thousand.  That was ridiculous, she
+declared.  By degrees, and a hundred at a time, Solomon raised his
+offer to fifteen hundred.  This being the sum Mrs. Barnes had
+considered in the first place--and having asked for the two thousand
+merely because of her judgment of human nature--she announced that
+she would think over the offer.  Then came the question of time.
+Here Mr. Cobb was firm.  Three years--two years-- he would not
+consider.  At last he announced that he would take a one-year
+mortgage on the Barnes property for fifteen hundred dollars; and
+that was all he would do.
+
+"And I wouldn't do that for nobody else," he declared.  "You bein'
+my relation I don't know's it ain't my duty as a perfessin'
+Christian to--to help you out.  I hadn't ought to afford it, but
+I'm willin' to go so far."
+
+Thankful shook her head.  "I'm glad you said, 'PROFESSIN'
+Christian.'" she observed.  "Well," drawing a long breath, "then I
+suppose I've got to say yes or no. . . .  And I'll say yes," she
+added firmly.  "And we'll call it settled."
+
+They parted before the hotel.  She was to return to South
+Middleboro that afternoon.  Mr. Cobb was to prepare the papers and
+forward them for her signature, after which, upon receipt of them
+duly signed, he would send her the fifteen hundred dollar check.
+
+Solomon climbed into the buggy.  "Well, good-by,' he said.  "I hope
+you'll do fust-rate.  The interest'll be paid regular, of course.
+I'm real pleased to meet you--er--Cousin Thankful.  Be sure you
+sign them papers in the right place.  Good-by.  Oh--er--er--
+sometimes I'll be droppin' in to see you after you get your
+boardin'-house goin'.  I come to East Wellmouth once in a while.
+Yes--yes--I'll come and see you.  You can tell me more about
+Captain Abner, you know.  I'd--I'd like to hear what he said to you
+about me.  Good-by."
+
+That afternoon, once more in the depot-wagon, which had been
+refitted with its fourth wheel, Thankful, on her way to the
+Wellmouth railway station, passed her "property."  The old house,
+its weather-beaten shingles a cold gray in the half-light of the
+mist-shrouded, sinking sun, looked lonely and deserted.  A chill
+wind came from the sea and the surf at the foot of the bluff moaned
+and splashed and sighed.
+
+Thankful sighed also.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Winnie S.
+
+"Oh, nothin' much.  I wish I was a prophet, that's all.  I'd like
+to be able to look ahead a year."
+
+Winnie S. whistled.  "Judas priest!" he said.  "So'd I.  But if I'd
+see myself drivin' this everlastin' rig-out I'd wished I hadn't
+looked.  I don't know's I'd want to see ahead as fur's that, after
+all."
+
+Thankful sighed again.  "I don't know as I do, either," she
+admitted.
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+March, so to speak, blew itself out; April came and went; May was
+here.  And on the seventeenth of May the repairs on the "Cap'n
+Abner place" were completed.  The last carpenter had gone, leaving
+his shavings and chips behind him.  The last painter had spilled
+his last splash of paint on the sprouting grass beneath the
+spotless white window sills.  The last paper-hanger had departed.
+Winnie S. was loading into what he called a "truck wagon" the
+excelsior and bagging in which the final consignment of new
+furniture had been wrapped during its journey from Boston.  About
+the front yard Kenelm Parker was moving, rake in hand.  In the
+kitchen Imogene, the girl from the Orphans' Home in Boston, who had
+been engaged to act as "hired help," was arranging the new pots and
+pans on the closet shelf and singing "Showers of Blessings"
+cheerfully if not tunefully.
+
+Yes, the old "Cap'n Abner place" was rejuvenated and transformed
+and on the following Monday it would be the "Cap'n Abner place" no
+longer: it would then become the "High Cliff House" and open its
+doors to hoped-for boarders, either of the "summer" or "all-the-
+year" variety.
+
+The name had been Emily Howes' choice.  She and Mrs. Barnes had
+carried on a lengthy and voluminous correspondence and the
+selection of a name had been left to Emily.  To her also had been
+intrusted the selection of wallpapers, furniture and the few
+pictures which Thankful had felt able to afford.  These were but
+few, for the cost of repairing and refitting had been much larger
+than the original estimate.  The fifteen hundred dollars raised on
+the mortgage had gone and of the money obtained by the sale of the
+cranberry bog shares--Mrs. Pearson's legacy--nearly half had gone
+also.  Estimates are one thing and actual expenditures are another,
+a fact known to everyone who has either built a house or rebuilt
+one, and more than once during the repairing and furnishing process
+Thankful had repented of her venture and wished she had not risked
+the plunge.  But, having risked it, backing out was impossible.
+Neither was it possible to stop half-way.  As she said to Captain
+Obed, "There's enough half-way decent boardin'-houses and hotels in
+this neighborhood now.  There's about as much need of another of
+that kind as there is of an icehouse at the North Pole.  Either
+this boardin'-house of mine must be the very best there can be,
+price considered, or it mustn't be at all.  That's the way I look
+at it."
+
+The captain had, of course, agreed with her.  His advice had been
+invaluable.  He had helped in choosing carpenters and painters and
+it was owing to his suggestion that Mrs. Barnes had refrained from
+engaging an East Wellmouth young woman to help in the kitchen.
+
+"You could find one, of course," said the captain.  "There's two or
+three I could think of right off now who would probably take the
+job, but two out of the three wouldn't be much account anyhow, and
+the only one that would is Sarah Mullet and she's engaged to a
+Trumet feller.  Now let alone the prospect of Sarah's gettin'
+married and leavin' you 'most any time, there's another reason for
+not hirin' her.  She's the everlastin'est gossip in Ostable County,
+and that's sayin' somethin'.  What Sarah don't know about
+everybody's private affairs she guesses and she always guesses out
+loud.  Inside of a fortnight she'd have all you ever done and a
+whole lot you never thought of doin' advertised from Race P'int to
+Sagamore.  She's a reg'lar talkin' foghorn, if there was such a
+thing--only a foghorn shuts down in clear weather and SHE don't
+shut down, day or night.  Talks in her sleep, I shouldn't wonder.
+If I was you, Mrs. Barnes, I wouldn't bother with any help from
+'round here.  I'd hire a girl from Boston, or somewheres; then you
+could be skipper of your own ship."
+
+Thankful, after thinking the matter over, decided that the advice
+was good.  The difficulty, of course, was in determining the
+"somewhere" from which the right sort of servant, one willing to
+work for a small wage, might be obtained.  At length she wrote to a
+Miss Coffin, once a nurse in Middleboro but now matron of an
+orphans' home in Boston.  Miss Coffin's reply was to the effect
+that she had, in her institution, a girl who might in time prove to
+be just the sort which her friend desired.
+
+
+Of course [she wrote], she isn't at all a competent servant now,
+but she is bright and anxious to learn.  And she is a good girl,
+although something of a character.  Her Christian name is
+Marguerite, at least she says it is.  What her other name is
+goodness only knows.  She has been with us now for nearly seven
+years.  Before that she lived with and took care of a drunken old
+woman who said she was the girl's aunt, though I doubt if she was.
+Suppose I send her to you on trial; you can send her back to us if
+she doesn't suit.  It would be a real act of charity to give her a
+chance, and I think you will like her in spite of her funny ways.
+
+
+This doubtful recommendation caused Thankful to shake her head.
+She had great confidence in Miss Coffin's judgment, but she was far
+from certain that "Marguerite" would suit.  However, guarded
+inquiries in Wellmouth and Trumet strengthened her conviction that
+Captain Obed knew what he was talking about, and, the time
+approaching when she must have some sort of servant, she, at last,
+in desperation wrote her friend to send "the Marguerite one" along
+for a month's trial.
+
+The new girl arrived two days later.  Winnie S. brought her down in
+the depot-wagon, in company with her baggage, a battered old valise
+and an ancient umbrella.  She clung to each of these articles with
+a death grip, evidently fearful that someone might try to steal
+them.  She appeared to be of an age ranging from late sixteen to
+early twenty, and had a turned-up nose and reddish hair drawn
+smoothly back from her forehead and fastened with a round comb.
+Her smile was of the "won't come off" variety.
+
+Thankful met her at the back door and ushered her into the kitchen,
+the room most free from workmen at the moment.
+
+"How do you do?" said the lady.  "I'm real glad to see you.  Hope
+you had a nice trip down in the cars."
+
+"Lordy, yes'm!" was the emphatic answer, accompanied by a brilliant
+smile.  "I never had such a long ride in my life.  'Twas just like
+bein' rich.  I made believe I WAS rich most all the way, except
+when a man set down in the seat alongside of me and wanted to talk.
+Then I didn't make believe none, I bet you!"
+
+"A man?" grinned Thankful.  "What sort of a man?"
+
+"I don't know.  One of the railroad men I guess 'twas; anyhow he
+was a fresh young guy, with some sort of uniform hat on.  He asked
+me if I didn't want him to put my bag up in the rack.  He said you
+couldn't be too careful of a bag like that.  I told him never mind
+my bag; it was where it belonged and it stayed shut up, which was
+more'n you could say of some folks in this world.  I guess he
+understood; anyhow he beat it.  Lordy!" with another smile.  "I
+knew how to treat HIS kind.  Miss Coffin's told me enough times to
+look out for strange men.  Is this where I'm goin' to live, ma'am?"
+
+"Why--why, yes; if you're a good girl and try hard to please and to
+learn.  Now--er--Marguerite--that's your name, isn't it?"
+
+"No, ma'am, my name's Imogene."
+
+"Imo--which?  Why!  I thought you was Marguerite.  Miss Coffin
+hasn't sent another girl, has she?"
+
+"No, ma'am.  I'm the one.  My name used to be Marguerite, but it's
+goin' to be Imogene now.  I've wanted to change for a long while,
+but up there to the Home they'd got kind of used to Marguerite, so
+'twas easier to let it go at that.  I like Imogene lots better; I
+got it out of a book."
+
+"But--but you can't change your name like that.  Isn't Marguerite
+your real name?"
+
+"No'm.  Anyhow I guess 'tain't.  I got that out of a book, too.
+Lordy," with a burst of enthusiasm, "I've had more names in my
+time!  My Aunt Bridget she called me 'Mag' when she didn't make it
+somethin' worse.  And when I first came to the Home the kids called
+me 'Fire Alarm,' 'cause my hair was red.  And the cook they had
+then called me 'Lonesome,' 'cause I guess I looked that way.  And
+the matron--not Miss Coffin, but the other one--called me 'Maggie.'
+I didn't like that, so when Miss Coffin showed up I told her I was
+Marguerite.  But I'd rather be Imogene now, if you ain't
+particular, ma'am."
+
+"Why--um--well, I don't know's I am; only seems to me I'd settle on
+one or t'other and stay put.  What's your last name?"
+
+"I ain't decided.  Montgomery's a kind of nice name and so's St.
+John, or Wolcott--there used to be a Governor Wolcott, you know.
+I s'pose, now I'm out workin' for myself, I ought to have a last
+name.  Maybe you can pick one out for me, ma'am."
+
+"Humph!  Maybe I can.  I've helped pick out first names for babies
+in my time, but pickin' out a last name for anybody would be
+somethin' new, I will give in.  But I'll try, if you want me to.
+And you must try to do what I want and to please me.  Will you
+promise me that?"
+
+"Lordy, yes'm!"
+
+"Um!  Well, you might begin by tryin' not to say 'Lordy' quite so
+many times.  That would please me, for a start."
+
+"All right'm.  I got in the habit of sayin' it, I guess.  When I
+first come to the Home I used to say, 'God sakes,' but the matron
+didn't like that."
+
+"Mercy on us!  I don't wonder.  Well--er--Imogene, now I'll show
+you the house and your room and all.  I hope you like 'em."
+
+There was no doubt of the liking.  Imogene was delighted with
+everything.  When she was shown the sunny attic bedroom which was
+to be hers she clapped her hands.
+
+"It's elegant, ma'am," she cried.  "Just grand!  OH! it's too
+splendid to believe and yet there ain't any make-believe in it.
+Lordy!  Excuse me, ma'am, I forgot.  I won't say it again.  I'll
+wait and see what you say and then I'll say that.  And now,"
+briskly, "I guess you think it's time I was gettin' to work.  All
+right, I can work if I ain't got no other accomplishments.  I'm all
+ready to begin."
+
+As a worker she was a distinct success.  There was not a lazy bone
+in her energetic body.  She was up and stirring each morning at
+five o'clock and she evinced an eager willingness to learn that
+pleased Mrs. Barnes greatly.  Her knowledge of cookery was limited,
+and deadly, but as Thankful had planned to do most of the cooking
+herself, for the first season at least, this made little
+difference.  Altogether the proprietress of the High Cliff House
+was growing more and more sure that her female "hired help" was
+destined to prove a treasure.
+
+"I am real glad you like it here so well, Imogene," she said, at
+the end of a fortnight.  "I was afraid you might be lonesome, down
+here so far from the city."
+
+Imogene laughed.  "Who?  Me?" she exclaimed.  "I guess not, ma'am.
+Don't catch me bein' lonesome while there's folks around I care
+about.  I was lonesome enough when I first came to the Home and the
+kids used to make fun of me.  But I ain't lonesome now, with you so
+kind and nice.  No indeedy!  I ain't lonesome and I ain't goin' to
+be.  You watch!"
+
+Captain Obed heartily approved of Imogene.  Of Kenelm Parker as
+man-of-all-work his approval was much less enthusiastic.  He had
+been away attending to his fish weirs, when Kenelm was hired, and
+the bargain was made before he returned.  It was Hannah Parker who
+had recommended her brother for the position.  She had coaxed and
+pleaded and, at last, Thankful had consented to Kenelm's taking the
+place on trial.
+
+"You'll need a nice, trustworthy man to do chores," said Hannah.
+"Now Kenelm's honest; there ain't a more honest, conscientious man
+in East Wellmouth than my brother, if I do say it.  Take him in the
+matter of that umbrella he lost the night you first came, Mrs.
+Barnes.  Take that, for instance.  He'd left it or lost it
+somewheres, he knew that, and the ordinary person would have been
+satisfied; but not Kenelm.  No sir-ee!  He hunted and hunted till
+he found that umbrella and come fetchin' of it home.  'Twas a week
+afore he did that, but when he did I says, 'Well,' I says, 'you
+have got more stick-to-it than I thought you had.  You--'"
+
+"Where did he find it?" interrupted Thankful.
+
+"Land knows!  He didn't seem to know himself--just found it, he
+said.  He acts so sort of upsot and shameful about that umbrella
+that he and I don't talk about it any more.  But it did show that
+he had a sense of responsibleness, and a good one.  Anybody that'll
+stick to and persecute a hunt for a lost thing the way he done will
+stick to a job the same way.  Don't you think so yourself, Mrs.
+Barnes?"
+
+Thankful was not convinced, but she yielded.  When she told Captain
+Bangs he laughed and observed: "Yup, well, maybe so.  Judgin' by
+other jobs Kenelm's had he'll stick to this one same as he does to
+his bed of a Sunday mornin'--lay down on it and go to sleep.
+However, I presume likely he ought to have the chance.  Of course
+Hannah's idea is plain enough.  Long's he's at work over here, she
+can keep an eye on him.  And it's a nice, satisfactory distance
+from the widow Larkin, too."
+
+So Kenelm came daily to work and did work--some.  When he did not
+he always had a plausible excuse.  As a self-excuser he was a
+shining light.
+
+Thankful had, during the repairs on the house, waited more or less
+anxiously for developments concerning the mystery of the little
+back bedroom.  Painters and paperhangers had worked in that room as
+in others, but no reports of strange sounds, or groans, or voices,
+had come from there.  During the week preceding the day of formal
+opening Thankful herself had spent her nights in that room, but had
+not heard nor seen anything unusual.  She was now pretty thoroughly
+convinced that the storm had been responsible for the groans and
+that the rest had been due to her imagination.  However, she
+determined to let that room and the larger one adjoining last of
+all; she would take no chances with the lodgers, she couldn't
+afford it.
+
+Among the equipment of the High Cliff House or its outbuildings
+were a horse, a pig, and a dozen hens and two roosters.  Captain
+Obed bought the horse at Mrs. Barnes' request, a docile animal of a
+sedate age.  A second-hand buggy and a second-hand "open wagon" he
+also bought.  The pig and hens Thankful bought herself in Trumet.
+She positively would not consent to the pig's occupying the sty
+beneath the woodshed and adjoining the potato cellar, so a new pen
+was built in the hollow at the rear of the house.  Imogene was
+tremendously interested in the live-stock.  She begged the
+privilege of naming each animal and fowl.  Mrs. Barnes had been
+encouraging the girl to read literature more substantial than the
+"Fireside Companion" tales in which she had hitherto delighted, and
+had, as a beginning, lent her a volume of United States history,
+one of several discarded schoolbooks which Emily Howes sent at her
+cousin's request.  Imogene was immensely interested in the history.
+She had just finished the Revolution and the effect of her reading
+was evident when she announced the names she had selected.
+
+The horse, being the most important of all the livestock, she
+christened George Washington.  The pig was named Patrick Henry.
+The largest hen was Martha Washington.  "As to them two roosters,"
+she explained, "I did think I'd name the big handsome one John
+Hancock and the littlest one George Three.  They didn't like each
+other, ma'am, that was plain at the start, so I thought they'd
+ought to be on different sides.  But the very first fight they had
+George pretty near licked the stuffin' out of John, so I've decided
+to change the names around.  That ought to fix it; don't you think
+so, ma'am?"
+
+On the seventeenth the High Cliff House was formally opened.  It
+was much too early to expect "summer" boarders, but there were
+three of the permanent variety who had already engaged rooms.  Of
+these the first was Caleb Hammond, an elderly widower, and retired
+cranberry grower, whose wife had died fifteen years before and who
+had been "boarding around" in Wellmouth Centre and Trumet ever
+since.  Caleb was fairly well-to-do and although he had the
+reputation of being somewhat "close" in many matters and "sot" in
+his ways, he was a respected member of society.  He selected a room
+on the second floor--not a front room, but one on the side looking
+toward the Colfax estate.  The room on the other side, across the
+hall, was taken by Miss Rebecca Timpson, who had taught the
+"upstairs" classes in the Wellmouth school ever since she was
+nineteen, a considerable period of time.
+
+The large front rooms, those overlooking the bluff and the sea,
+Thankful had intended reserving for guests from the city, but when
+Mr. Heman Daniels expressed a wish to engage and occupy one of them,
+that on the left of the hall, she reconsidered and Mr. Daniels
+obtained his desire.  It was hard to refuse a personage like Mr.
+Daniels anything.  He was not an elderly man; neither was he,
+strictly speaking, a young one.  His age was, perhaps, somewhere in
+the late thirties or early forties and he was East Wellmouth's
+leading lawyer, in fact its only one.
+
+Heman was a bachelor and rather good-looking.  That his bachelorhood
+was a matter of choice and not necessity was a point upon which all
+of East Wellmouth agreed.  He was a favorite with the ladies, most
+of them, and, according to common report, there was a rich widow in
+Bayport who would marry him at a minute's notice if he gave the
+notice.  So far, apparently, he had not given it.  He was a "smart"
+lawyer, everyone said that, and it is probable that he himself would
+have been the last to deny the accusation.  He was dignified and
+suave and gracious, also persuasive when he chose to be.
+
+He had been boarding with the Holts, but, like the majority of the
+hotel lodgers and "mealers," was very willing to change.  The
+location of the High Cliff House was, so he informed Thankful, the
+sole drawback to its availability as a home for him.
+
+"If a bachelor may be said to have a home, Mrs. Barnes," he added,
+graciously.  "However, I am sure even an unfortunate single person
+like myself may find a real home under your roof.  You see, your
+reputation had preceded you, ma'am.  Ha, ha! yes.  As I say, the
+location is the only point which has caused me to hesitate.  My--
+er--offices are on the Main Road near the postoffice and that is
+nearly a mile from here.  But, we'll waive that point, ma'am.  Six
+dollars a week for the room and seven for meals, you say.  Thirteen
+dollars--an unlucky number: Ha, ha!  Suppose we call it twelve and
+dodge the bad luck, eh?  That would seem reasonable, don't you
+think?"
+
+Thankful shook her head.  "Altogether too reasonable, Mr. Daniels,
+I'm afraid," she replied.  "I've cut my rates so close now that I'm
+afraid they'll catch cold in bad weather.  Thirteen dollars a week
+may be unlucky, but twelve would be a sight more unlucky--for me.
+I can let you have a side room, of course, and that would be
+cheaper."
+
+But Mr. Daniels did not wish a side room; he desired a front room
+and, at last, consented to pay the regular rate for it.  But when
+the arrangement was concluded Thankful could not help feeling that
+she had taken advantage of an unworldly innocence.
+
+Captain Obed Bangs, when she told him, reassured her.
+
+"Don't worry, ma'am," he said.  "I wouldn't lay awake nights
+fearin' I'd got ahead of Heman Daniels much.  If you have got ahead
+of him you're the only person I ever see that did, and you ought to
+be proud instead of ashamed.  And I'd get him to make his offer in
+writin' and you lock up the writin'."
+
+"Why!  Why, Captain Obed!  How you do talk!  You don't mean that
+Mr. Daniels is a cheat, do you?  You don't mean such a thing as
+THAT?"
+
+The captain waved a protesting hand.
+
+"No, no," he declared.  "I wouldn't call any lawyer a cheat.
+That's too one-sided a deal to be good business.  The expense of
+hirin' counsel is all on one side if it ever comes to a libel suit.
+And besides, I don't think Daniels is a cheat.  I never heard of
+him doin' anything that wa'n't legally honest.  He's sharp and he's
+smart, but he's straight enough.  I was only jokin', Mrs. Barnes.
+Sometimes I think I ought to hang a lantern on my jokes; then folks
+would see 'em quicker."
+
+So Mr. Daniels came, and Mr. Hammond came, and so also did Miss
+Timpson.  The first dinner was served in the big dining-room and it
+was a success, everyone said so.  Beside the boarders there were
+invited guests, Captain Bangs and Hannah Parker, and Kenelm also.
+It was a disappointment to Thankful, although she kept the
+disappointment to herself, the fact that the captain had not
+shifted what he called his "moorings" to her establishment.  She
+had hoped he might; she liked him and she believed him to be just
+the sort of boarder she most desired.  It may be that he, too, was
+disappointed.  What he said was:
+
+"You see, ma'am, I've been anchorin' along with Hannah and Kenelm
+now for quite a spell.  They took me in when 'twas a choice between
+messin' at the Holt place or eatin' grass in the back yard like
+King Nebuchadnezzar.  Hannah don't keep a reg'lar boardin'-house
+but she does sort of count on me as one of the family, and I don't
+feel 'twould be right to shift--not yet, anyhow.  But maybe I can
+pilot other craft into High Cliff Harbor, even if I don't call it
+my own home port."
+
+That first dinner was a bountiful meal.  Miss Parker expressed the
+general opinion, although it was expressed in her own way, when she
+said:
+
+"My sakes alive, Mrs. Barnes!  If THIS is the way you're goin' to
+feed your boarders right along then I say it's remarkable.  I've
+been up to Boston a good many times in my life, and I've been to
+Washington once, but in all MY experience at high-toned hotels I
+never set down to a better meal.  It's a regular Beelzebub's feast,
+like the one in Scriptur'--leavin' out the writin' on the wall of
+course."
+
+Kenelm ate enough for two and then, announcing that he couldn't
+heave away no more time, having work to do, retired to the rear of
+the barn where, the rake beside him, he slumbered peacefully for an
+hour.
+
+"There!" said Thankful to Imogene that night.  "We've started
+anyhow.  And 'twas a good start if I do say it."
+
+"Good!" exclaimed Imogene.  "I should say 'twas good!  But if them
+boarders eat as much every day as they have this one 'twon't be a
+start, 'twill be a finish.  Lor--I mean mercy on us, ma'am--if this
+is a boardin'-house I'd like to know what a palace is.  Why a king
+never had better grub served to him.  Huh! I guess he didn't.  Old
+George Three used to eat gruel, like a--like a sick orphan at the
+Home.  Oh, he did, ma'am, honest!  I read about it in one of them
+history books you lent me.  He was a tight-wad old gink, he was.
+Are you goin' to give these guys as much every meal, ma'am?"
+
+"I mean to, of course," declared Mrs. Barnes.  "Nobody shall starve
+at my table.  And please, Imogene, don't call people ginks and
+guys.  That ain't nice talk for a young woman."
+
+Imogene apologized and promised to be more careful.  But she
+thought a great deal and, at the end of the first week, she
+imparted her thoughts to Captain Obed.
+
+"Say, Captain Bangs," she said, "do you know what is the matter
+with the name of this place?  I tell you what I think is the
+matter.  It hadn't ought to be the HIGH Cliff House.  The CHEAP
+Cliff House would be a sight better.  Givin' guys--folks, I mean--
+fifteen-dollar-a-week board for seven dollars may be mighty nice
+for them, but it's plaguy poor business for Mrs. Thankful."
+
+The captain shook his head; he had been thinking, too, and his
+conclusions were much the same.
+
+"You mustn't find fault with Mrs. Barnes, Imogene," he said.
+"She's a mighty fine woman."
+
+"Fine woman!  You bet she is!  She's too plaguy fine, that's the
+trouble with her.  She's so afraid her boarders'll starve that she
+forgets all about makin' money.  She's the best woman there is in
+the world, but she needs a mean partner.  Then the two of them
+might average up all right, I guess."
+
+Captain Obed rubbed his chin.  "Think she needs a business manager,
+eh?" he observed.
+
+Imogene nodded emphatically.  "She needs two of them," she
+declared.  "One to manage the place and another to keep that Parker
+man workin'.  He can eat more and talk more and work less than any
+guy ever I see.  Why, he'd spend half his time in this kitchen
+gassin' with me, if I'd let him.  But you bet I don't let him."
+
+The captain thought more and more during the days that followed.
+At length he wrote a letter to Emily Howes at South Middleboro.  In
+it he expressed his fear that Mrs. Barnes, although in all other
+respects perfect, was a too generous "provider" to be a success as
+a boarding-house keeper in East Wellmouth.
+
+
+She'll have boarders enough, you needn't worry about that, [he
+wrote] but she'll lose money on every one.  I've tried to hint, but
+she don't take the hint, and it ain't any of my affair, rightly
+speaking, so I can't speak out plain.  Can't you write her a sort
+of warning afore it's too late?  Or better still, can't you come
+down here and talk to her?  I wish you would.  Excuse my nosing in
+and writing you this way, please.  I'm doing it just because I want
+to see her win out in the race, that's all.  I wish you'd answer
+this pretty prompt, if you don't mind.
+
+
+But the reply he hoped for did not come and he began to fear that
+he had made a bad matter worse by writing.  Doubtless Miss Howes
+resented his "nosing in."
+
+Thankful now began advertising in the Boston papers.  And the
+answers to the ads began to arrive.  Sometimes men and women from
+the city came down to inspect the High Cliff House, preparatory to
+opening negotiations for summer quarters.  They inspected the house
+itself, interviewed Thankful, strolled along the bluff admiring the
+view, and sampled a meal.  Then, almost without exception, they
+agreed upon terms and selected rooms.  That the house would be full
+from top to bottom by the first of July was now certain.  But, as
+Imogene said to Captain Bangs, "If we lose five dollars a week on
+everyone of 'em that ain't nothin' to hurrah about, seems to me."
+
+The captain had not piloted any new boarders to the High Cliff.
+Perhaps he thought, under the circumstances, this would be a
+doubtful kindness.  But the time came when he did bring one there.
+And the happenings leading to that result were these:
+
+It was a day in the first week in June and Captain Obed, having
+business in Wellmouth Centre, had hired George Washington, Mrs.
+Barnes' horse, and the buggy and driven there.  The business done
+he left the placid George moored to a hitching-post by the
+postoffice and strolled over to the railway station to watch the
+noon train come in.
+
+The train was, of course, late, but not very late in this instance,
+and the few passengers alighted on the station platform.  The
+captain, seated on the baggage-truck, noticed one of these
+passengers in particular.  He was a young fellow, smooth-faced and
+tall, and as, suitcase in hand, he swung from the last car and
+strode up the platform it seemed to Captain Obed as if there was
+something oddly familiar in that stride and the set of his square
+shoulders.  His face, too, seemed familiar.  The captain felt as if
+he should recognize him--but he did not.
+
+He came swinging on until he was opposite the baggage-truck.  Then
+he stopped and looked searchingly at the bulky form of the man
+seated upon it.  He stepped closer and looked again.  Then, with a
+twinkle in his quiet gray eye, he did a most amazing thing--he
+began to sing.  To sing--not loudly, of course, but rather under
+his breath.  And this is what he sang:
+
+
+     "Said all the little fishes that swim there below:
+     'It's the Liverpool packet!  Good Lord, let her go!'"
+
+
+To the average person this would have sounded like the wildest
+insanity.  But not to Captain Obed Bangs of East Wellmouth.  The
+captain sprang from the truck and held out his hand.
+
+"Johnnie Kendrick!" he shouted.  "It's Johnnie Kendrick, I do
+believe!  Well, I swan to man!"
+
+The young man laughed, and, seizing the captain's hand, shook it
+heartily.
+
+"I am glad you do," he said.  "If you hadn't swanned to man I
+should have been afraid there was more change in Captain Obed Bangs
+than I cared to see.  Captain Obed, how are you?"
+
+Captain Obed shook his head.  "I--I--" he stammered.  "Well, I
+cal'late my timbers are fairly strong if they can stand a shock
+like this.  Johnnie Kendrick, of all folks in the world!"
+
+"The very same, Captain."
+
+"And you knew me right off!  Well done for you, John!  Why, it's
+all of twenty odd year since you used to set on a nail keg in my
+boathouse and tease me into singing the Dreadnought chanty.  I
+remember that.  Good land!  I ought to remember the only critter on
+earth that ever ASKED me to sing.  Ho! ho! but you was a little
+towheaded shaver then; and now look at you!  What are you doin'
+away down here?"
+
+John Kendrick shook his head.  "I don't know that I'm quite sure
+myself, Captain," he said.  "I have some suspicions, of course, but
+they may not be confirmed.  First of all I'm going over to East
+Wellmouth; so just excuse me a minute while I speak to the driver
+of the bus."
+
+He was hurrying away, but his companion caught his arm.
+
+"Heave to, John!" he ordered.  "I've got a horse and a buggy here
+myself, such as they are, and unless you're dead sot on bookin'
+passage in Winnie S.'s--what did you call it?--bust--I'd be mighty
+glad to have you make the trip along with me.  No, no.  'Twon't be
+any trouble.  Come on!"
+
+Five minutes later they were seated in the buggy and George
+Washington was jogging with dignified deliberation along the road
+toward East Wellmouth.
+
+"And why," demanded Captain Obed, "have you come to Wellmouth
+again, after all these years?"
+
+Mr. Kendrick smiled.
+
+"Well, Captain Bangs," he said, "it is barely possible that I've
+come here to stay."
+
+"To stay!  You don't mean to stay for good?"
+
+"Well, that, too, is possible.  Being more or less optimistic,
+we'll hope that if I do stay it will be for good.  I'm thinking of
+living here."
+
+His companion turned around on the seat to stare at him.
+
+"Livin' here!" he repeated.  "You?  What on earth--?  What are you
+goin' to do?"
+
+The passenger's eyes twinkled, but his tone was solemn enough.
+
+"Nothing, very likely," he replied.  "That's what I've been doing
+for some time."
+
+"But--but, the last I heard of you, you was practicin' law over to
+New York."
+
+"So I was.  That, for a young lawyer without funds or influence, is
+as near doing nothing as anything I can think of."
+
+"But--but, John--"
+
+"Just a minute, Captain.  The 'buts' are there, plenty of them.
+Before we reach them, however, perhaps I'd better tell you the
+story of my life.  It isn't exciting enough to make you nervous,
+but it may explain a few things."
+
+He told his story.  It was not the story of his life, his whole
+life, by any means.  The captain already knew the first part of
+that life.  He had known the Kendricks ever since he had known
+anyone.  Every person in East Wellmouth of middle age or older
+remembered when the two brothers, Samuel Kendrick and Bailey
+Kendrick--Bailey was John's father--lived in the village and were
+the "big" men of the community.  Bailey was the more important and
+respected at that time, for Samuel speculated in stocks a good deal
+and there were seasons when he was so near bankruptcy that gossip
+declared he could not pass the poorhouse without shivering.  If it
+had not been for his brother Bailey, so that same gossip affirmed,
+he would most assuredly have gone under, but Bailey lent him money
+and helped him in many ways.  Both brothers were widowers and each
+had a son; but Samuel's boy Erastus was fifteen years older than
+John.
+
+The families moved from Wellmouth when John was six years old.
+They went West and there, so it was said, the positions of the
+brothers changed.  Samuel's luck turned; he made some fortunate
+stock deals and became wealthy.  Bailey, however, lost all he had
+in bad mining ventures and sank almost to poverty.  Both had been
+dead for years now, but Samuel's son, Erastus--he much preferred to
+be called E. Holliday Kendrick--was a man of consequence in New
+York, a financier, with offices on Broad Street and a home on Fifth
+Avenue.  John, the East Wellmouth people had last heard of as
+having worked his way through college and law school and as
+practicing his profession in the big city.
+
+So much Captain Bangs knew.  And John Kendrick told him the rest.
+The road to success for a young attorney in New York he had found
+hard and discouraging.  For two years he had trodden it and
+scarcely earned enough to keep himself alive.  Now he had decided,
+or practically decided, to give up the attempt, select some small
+town or village and try his luck there.  East Wellmouth was the one
+village he knew and remembered with liking.  So to East Wellmouth
+he had come, to, as Captain Obed described it, "take soundin's and
+size up the fishin' grounds."
+
+"So there you are, Captain," he said, in conclusion.  "That is why
+I am here."
+
+The captain nodded reflectively.
+
+"Um--yes," he said.  "I see; I see.  Well, well; and you're
+figgerin' on bein' a lawyer here--in East Wellmouth?"
+
+Mr. Kendrick nodded also.  "It may, and probably will be, pretty
+close figuring at first," he admitted, "but at least there will be
+no more ciphers in the sum than there were in my Manhattan
+calculations.  Honestly now, Captain Bangs, tell me--what do you
+think of the idea?"
+
+The captain seemed rather dubious.
+
+"Humph!" he grunted.  "Well, I don't know, John.  East Wellmouth
+ain't a very big place."
+
+"I know that.  Of course I shouldn't hope to do much in East
+Wellmouth alone.  But it seemed to me I might do as other country
+lawyers have done, have an office--or a desk--in several other
+towns and be in those towns on certain days in the week.  I think I
+should like to live in East Wellmouth, though.  It is--not to be
+sentimental but just truthful--the one place I remember where I was
+really happy.  And, as I remember too, there used to be no lawyer
+there."
+
+Captain Obed's forehead puckered.
+
+"That's just it, John," he said.  "There is a lawyer here now.
+Good deal of a lawyer, too--if you ask HIM.  Name's Heman Daniels.
+You used to know him as a boy, didn't you?"
+
+Kendrick nodded assent.
+
+"I think I did," he said.  "Yes, I remember him.  He was one of the
+big boys when I was a little one, and he used to bully us small
+chaps."
+
+"That's the feller.  He ain't changed his habits so much, neither.
+But he's our lawyer and I cal'late he's doin' well."
+
+"Is he?  Well, that's encouraging, at any rate.  And he's the only
+lawyer you have?  Only one lawyer in a whole town.  Why in New York
+I couldn't throw a cigar stump from my office window without
+running the risk of hitting at least two and starting two damage
+suits."
+
+The captain chuckled.
+
+"I presume likely you didn't throw many," he observed.  "That would
+be expensive fun."
+
+"It would," was the prompt reply.  "Cigars cost money."
+
+They jogged on for a few minutes in silence.  Then said Captain
+Obed:
+
+"Well, John, what are you plannin' to do first?  After we get into
+port, I mean."
+
+"I scarcely know.  Look about, perhaps.  Possibly try out a
+boarding-house and hunt for a prospective office.  By the way,
+Captain, you don't happen to know of a good, commodious two by four
+office that I could hire at a two by four figure, do you?  One not
+so far from the main street that I should wear out an extravagant
+amount of shoe leather walking to and from it?"
+
+More reflection on the captain's part.  Then he said:
+
+"Well, I don't know as I don't.  John, I'll tell you: I've got a
+buildin' of my own.  Right abreast the post-office; Henry Cahoon
+has been usin' it for a barber-shop.  But Henry's quit, and it's
+empty.  The location's pretty good and the rent--well, you and me
+wouldn't pull hair over the rent question, I guess."
+
+"Probably not, but I should insist on paying as much as your barber
+friend did.  This isn't a charity proposition I'm making you,
+Captain Bangs.  Oh, let me ask this: Has this--er--office of yours
+got a good front window?"
+
+"Front window!  What in time--?  Yes, I guess likely the front
+window's all right.  But what does a lawyer want of a front
+window?"
+
+"To look out of.  About all a young lawyer does is look out of the
+window.  Now about a boarding-place?"
+
+Captain Obed had been waiting for this question.
+
+"I've got a boardin'-place for you, John," he declared.  "The
+office I may not be so sartin about, but the boardin'-place I am.
+There ain't a better one this side of Boston and I know it.  And
+the woman who keeps it is--well, you take my word for it she's all
+RIGHT."
+
+His passenger regarded him curiously.
+
+"You seem very enthusiastic, Captain," he observed, with a smile.
+
+Captain Bangs' next remark was addressed to the horse.  He gruffly
+bade the animal "gid-dap" and appeared a trifle confused.
+
+"I am," he admitted, after a moment.  "You'll be, too, when you see
+her."
+
+He described the High Cliff House and its owner.  Mr. Kendrick
+asked the terms for board and an "average" room.  When told he
+whistled.
+
+"That isn't high," he said.  "For such a place as you say this is
+it is very low.  But I am afraid it is too high for me.  Isn't
+there any other establishment where they care for men--and poor
+lawyers?"
+
+"Yes, there is, but you shan't go to it, not if I can stop you.
+You come right along with me now to the High Cliff and have dinner.
+Yes, you will.  I ain't had a chance to treat you for twenty year
+and I'm goin' to buy you one square meal if I have to feed you by
+main strength.  Don't you say another word.  There!  There's east
+Wellmouth dead ahead of us.  And there's the High Cliff House, too.
+Git dap, Father of your Country!  See!  He's hungry, too, and he
+knows what he'll get, same as I do."
+
+They drove into the yard of Mrs. Barnes' "property" and Thankful
+herself met them at the door.  Captain Obed introduced his
+passenger and announced that the latter gentleman and he would dine
+there.  The lady seemed glad to hear this, but she seemed troubled,
+too.  When she and the captain were alone together she disclosed
+the cause of her trouble.
+
+"I'm afraid I'm goin' to lose my best boarder," she said.  "Mr.
+Daniels says he's afraid he must take his meals nearer his place of
+business.  And, if he does that, he'll get a room somewheres
+uptown.  I'm awful sorry.  He's about the highest payin' roomer I
+have and I did think he was permanent.  Oh, dear!" she added.  "It
+does seem as if there was just one thing after the other to worry
+me.  I--I don't seem to be makin' both ends meet the way I hoped.
+And--and lookin' out for everything myself, the way I have to do,
+keeps me stirred up all the time.  I feel almost sort of
+discouraged.  I know I shouldn't, so soon, of course.  It's--it's
+because I'm tired today, I guess likely."
+
+"Yes, I guess likely 'tis.  Tired!  I shouldn't wonder?  It ain't
+any of my affairs at all, Mrs. Barnes, and I beg your pardon for
+sayin' it, but if you don't have some good capable person to take
+some of the care and managin' of this place off your shoulders
+you'll be down sick afore the summer's through."
+
+Thankful sighed, and then smiled.  "I know I need help, the right
+kind of help, just as well as you do, Cap'n Bangs," she said.  "But
+I know, too, that I can't afford to pay for it, so I must get along
+best I can without it.  As for gettin' sick--well, I can't afford
+that, either."
+
+At dinner John Kendrick met Mr. Heman Daniels and Miss Timpson and
+Caleb Hammond.  All three were evidently very curious concerning
+the business which had brought the young man to East Wellmouth, but
+their curiosity was not satisfied.  Kendrick himself refused to
+notice hints and insinuations and, though he talked freely on most
+subjects, would not talk of his own affairs.  Captain Obed, of
+course, disclosed nothing of the knowledge he had gained.  So the
+table talk dealt mainly with the changes in the village since John
+was a boy there, and of old times and old residents long gone.
+
+Mr. Daniels was very gracious and very affable.  He spoke largely
+of cases intrusted to his care, of responsibilities and trusts, and
+if the guest gained the idea that Mr. Daniels was a very capable
+and prosperous lawyer indeed--if he gained such an idea and did not
+express it, how could Heman be expected to contradict?
+
+After dinner--Kendrick informed his friend it was one of the best
+he had ever eaten--he and the captain walked over to the village,
+where they spent the afternoon wandering about, inspecting the ex-
+barber-shop and discussing chances and possibilities.  The young
+man was still doubtful of East Wellmouth's promise of professional
+opportunities.  He should like to live there, he said, and he might
+decide to do so, but as yet he had not so decided.  He seemed more
+pessimistic than during the drive down from the station.  Captain
+Obed, however, and oddly enough, was much more optimistic than he
+had been at first.
+
+"I don't know, John," he said, "but I ain't sure you couldn't make
+good, and pretty good, too, by settlin' here.  This section needs a
+good lawyer."
+
+"Another good lawyer you mean.  Daniels is here, remember.  Judging
+by his remarks this noon he is very much here."
+
+"Um--yes, I know.  If you take his remarks at the value he marks
+'em with he's the whole bank and a safe-deposit vault hove in.  But
+I wouldn't wonder if those remarks was subject to a discount.
+Anyhow I know mighty well there's a lot of folks in this town--good
+substantial folks, too--who don't like him.  They hire him once in
+a while because there ain't another lawyer short of Trumet and
+that's quite a ways.  But maybe they'd be mighty glad to shift if
+there was a chance right at hand.  Don't you strike the colors yet
+awhile.  Think it over first."
+
+He insisted upon Kendrick's returning to the High Cliff House that
+night.  "I want Mrs. Barnes to show you the room she's got vacant,"
+he said.  "Ain't no harm lookin' at a brindle calf, as the feller
+said; you don't have to buy the critter unless you want to."
+
+So Mr. Kendrick inspected the rooms and expressed himself as
+delighted with them.
+
+"They're all right in every respect, Captain," he declared.  "And
+the food is more than that.  But the price--although it's
+surprisingly low considering the value offered--is too steep for
+me.  I'm afraid, if I should locate here, for a trial trip, I
+couldn't afford to be comfortable and I shouldn't expect to."
+
+Captain Bangs remained to take supper with his friend.  The meal
+over, they and the rest of the boarders were seated in the big
+living-room--once Captain Abner's "best parlor"--when there came
+from outside the rattle of wheels and the voice of Winnie S.
+shouting "Whoa!" to General Jackson.
+
+Thankful, who had been in the kitchen superintending Imogene, who
+was learning rapidly, came hurrying to the front door.  The group
+in the parlor heard her utter an exclamation, an exclamation of
+surprise and delight.  There were other exclamations, also in a
+feminine voice, and the sounds of affectionate greetings.  Then
+Mrs. Barnes, her face beaming, ushered into the living-room a young
+woman.  And this young woman was her cousin, Emily Howes.
+
+Captain Obed rose to greet her.
+
+"Well, I swan to man, Miss Howes!" he cried.  "This IS a surprise!
+I didn't know you was due for a v'yage in this latitude."
+
+Thankful laughed.  "Neither did I," she declared.  "It's as big a
+surprise to me as it is to you, Cap'n.  She didn't write me a word."
+
+Emily laughed.
+
+"Of course I didn't, Auntie," she said.  "I wanted to surprise you.
+But you're glad to see me, aren't you?"
+
+"GLAD!  I don't believe I was ever so glad to see anybody in MY
+life."
+
+"We're all glad to see you, Miss Howes," announced the captain.
+"Come down to make us a little visit, hey?"
+
+"Oh, more than a little one.  You can't escape so easily.  I am
+going to stay all summer at least, perhaps longer.  There, Aunt
+Thankful, what do you think of that?"
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+What Thankful thought of it was evidenced by the manner in which
+she received the news.  She did not say much, then, but the
+expression of relief and delight upon her face was indication
+sufficient.  She did ask a number of questions: Why had Emily come
+then, so long before her school closed?  How was it that she could
+leave her teaching?  Why hadn't she written?  And many others.
+
+Miss Howes answered the questions one after the other.  She had
+come in May because she found that she could come.
+
+"I meant to come the very first moment it was possible for me to do
+so," she said.  "I have been more interested in this new project of
+yours, Auntie, than anything else in the world.  You knew that; I
+told you so before I left and I have written it many times since.
+I came now because--well, because--you mustn't be alarmed, Auntie;
+there is nothing to be frightened about--but the school committee
+seemed to feel that I needed a change and rest.  They seemed to
+think that I was not as well as I should be, that I was tired, was
+wearing myself out; that is the way they expressed it.  It was
+absurd, of course, I am perfectly well.  But when they came to me
+and told me that they had decided to give me a vacation, with pay,
+until next fall, and even longer if I felt that I needed it, you
+may be sure I didn't refuse their kind offer.  I thanked them and
+said yes before they could have changed their minds, even if they
+had wished to.  They said I should go into the country.  That was
+just where I wanted to go, and so here I am, IN the country.
+Aren't you glad?"
+
+"Glad!  Don't talk!  But, Emily, if you ain't well, don't you
+think--"
+
+"I am well.  Don't say another word about that.  And, Oh, the
+things I mean to do to help you, Aunt Thankful!"
+
+"Help me!  Indeed you won't!  You'll rest and get strong again,
+that's what you'll do.  I don't need any help."
+
+"Oh, yes, you do.  I know it."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+For just an instant Emily glanced at Captain Bangs.  The captain's
+face expressed alarm and embarrassment.  He was standing where Mrs.
+Barnes could not see him and he shook his head warningly.  Miss
+Howes' eyes twinkled, but she did not smile.
+
+"Oh, I knew!" she repeated.
+
+"But HOW did you know?  I never wrote you such a thing, sartin."
+
+"Of course you didn't.  But I knew because--well, just because.
+Everyone who takes boarders needs help.  It's a--it's a chronic
+condition.  Now, Auntie, don't you think you could find some supper
+for me?  Not much, but just a little.  For an invalid ordered to
+the country I am awfully hungry."
+
+That was enough for Thankful.  She seized her cousin by the arm and
+hurried her into the dining-room.  A few moments later she reappeared
+to order Miss Howes' trunk carried upstairs to the "blue room."
+
+"You'll have to excuse me, folks," she said, addressing her guests.
+"I know I didn't introduce you to Emily.  I was so flustered and--
+and tickled to see her that I forgot everything, manners and all.
+Soon's she's had a bite to eat I'll try to make up.  You'll forgive
+me, won't you?"
+
+When she had gone Captain Obed was bombarded with questions.  Who
+was the young lady?  Where did she come from?  If she was only a
+cousin, why did she call Mrs. Barnes "Auntie"?  And many others.
+
+Captain Obed answered as best he could.
+
+"She's real pretty, isn't she," affirmed Miss Timpson.  "I don't
+know when I've seen a prettier woman.  Such eyes!  And such hair!
+Ah hum!  When I was her age folks used to tell me I had real
+wonderful hair.  You remember that, don't you, Mr. Hammond?"
+
+Mr. Hammond chuckled.  "I remember lots of things," he observed
+diplomatically.
+
+"You think she's pretty, don't you, Mr. Daniels?" persisted Miss
+Timpson.
+
+East Wellmouth's legal light bowed assent.  "A--ahem--a very
+striking young lady," he said with dignity.  He had scarcely taken
+his eyes from the newcomer while she was in the room.  John
+Kendrick said nothing.
+
+When Emily and Thankful returned to the living-room there were
+introductions and handshakings.  And, following these, a general
+conversation lasting until ten o'clock.  Then Miss Howes excused
+herself, saying that she was a bit tired, bade them all good night
+and went to her room.
+
+Captain Obed left soon afterward.
+
+"Well, John," he said to his friend, as they stood together on the
+front step, "what do you think of this for a boardin'-house?  All I
+prophesied, ain't it?"
+
+Kendrick nodded.  "All that, and more," he answered, emphatically.
+
+"Like Mrs. Barnes, don't you?"
+
+"Very much.  No one could help liking her."
+
+"Um-hm.  Well, I told you that, too.  And her niece--cousin, I
+mean--is just as nice as she is.  You'll like her, too, when you
+know her. . . .  Eh?"
+
+"I didn't speak, Captain."
+
+"Oh, didn't you?  Well, it's high time for me to be headin' for
+home.  Hannah'll be soundin' the foghorn for me pretty soon.
+She'll think I'VE been tagged by Abbie Larkin if I don't hurry up
+and report.  See you in the mornin', John.  Good night."
+
+The next forenoon he was on hand, bright and early, and he and
+Kendrick went over to the village on another tour of inspection.
+Captain Obed was extremely curious to know whether or not his
+friend had made up his mind to remain in East Wellmouth, but, as
+the young man himself did not volunteer the information, the
+captain asked no questions.  They walked up and down the main road
+until dinner time.  John said very little, and was evidently
+thinking hard.  Just before twelve Captain Bangs did ask a
+question, his first one.
+
+"Well, John," he said, looking up at the clock in the steeple of
+the Methodist Church, "it's about time for us to be thinkin' about
+takin' in cargo.  Where shall we eat this noon?  At the High Cliff
+again, or do you want to tackle Darius Holt's?  Course you
+understand I'm game for 'most anything if you say so, and 'most
+anything's what we're liable to get at that Holt shebang.  I don't
+want you to think I've got any personal grudge.  When it comes to
+that I'm--ho! ho!--well, I'm a good deal in the frame of mind
+Kenelm Parker was at the revival meetin' some year ago.  Kenelm
+just happened in and took one of the back seats.  The minister--he
+was a stranger in town--was walkin' up and down the aisles tryin'
+to influence the mourners to come forward.  He crept up on Kenelm
+from behind, when he wa'n't expected, and says he, 'Brother,' he
+says, 'do you love the Lord?'  Kenelm was some took by surprise and
+his wits was in the next county, I cal'late.  'Why--why--' he
+stammers.  'I ain't got nothin' AG'IN' Him.'  Ho! ho!  That's the
+way I feel about Darius Holt.  I don't love his hotel, but I ain't
+got nothin' ag'in' him.  What do you say?"
+
+Kendrick hesitated.
+
+"The Holt board is cheaper, isn't it?" he asked.
+
+"Yup.  It costs less and it's wuth it."
+
+"Humph!  Well--well, I guess we may as well go back to the High
+Cliff House."
+
+Captain Obed was much surprised, but he said nothing.
+
+At dinner there was a sprightly air of cheerfulness and desire to
+please among the boarders.  Everyone talked a good deal and most of
+the remarks were addressed to Miss Howes, who sat at the foot of
+the table, opposite her cousin.  Thankful noticed the change and
+marveled at it.  Dinners had hitherto been rather hurried and
+silent affairs.  Miss Timpson usually rushed through the meal in
+order to get back to her school.  Mr. Daniels' habit was to fidget
+when Imogene delayed serving a course, to look at his watch and
+hint concerning important legal business which needed prompt
+attention.  Caleb Hammond's conversation too often was confined to
+a range bordered by rheumatism on the one hand and bronchitis on
+the other.
+
+Now all this was changed.  No one seemed in a hurry, no one
+appeared to care what the time might be, and no one grumbled.  Mr.
+Daniels was particularly affable and gracious; he even condescended
+to joke.  He was wearing his best and newest suit and his tie was
+carefully arranged.  Emily was in high spirits, laughed at the
+jokes, whether they were new or old, and seemed to be very happy.
+She had been for a walk along the bluff, and the sea breeze had
+crimsoned her cheeks and blown her hair about.  She apologized for
+the disarrangement of the hair, but even Miss Timpson--her own
+tresses as smooth as the back of a haircloth sofa--declared the
+effect to be "real becomin'."  Heman Daniels, who, being a
+bachelor, was reported to be very particular in such matters,
+heartily concurred in this statement.  Mr. Hammond said it reminded
+him some of Laviny Marthy's hair.  "Laviny Marthy was my wife that
+was," he added, by way of explanation.  John Kendrick said very
+little; in fact, he was noticeably silent during dinner.  Miss
+Timpson said afterward: "That Mr. Kendrick isn't much of a talker,
+is he?  I guess he's what they call a good listener, for he seemed
+to be real interested, especially when Miss Howes was talkin'.
+He'd look at her and look at her, and time and time again I thought
+he was goin' to say somethin', but he didn't."
+
+He was not talkative when alone with Captain Obed that afternoon.
+They paid one more visit to the building "opposite the postoffice"
+and while there he asked a few questions concerning the rent.  The
+figure named by the captain was a low one and John seemed to think
+it too low.  "I'm not asking charity," he declared.  "At least you
+might charge me enough to pay for the paint I may rub off when I
+open the door."
+
+But Captain Obed obstinately refused to raise his figure.  "I've
+charged enough to risk what paint there is," he announced.  "If I
+charged more I'd feel as if I had to paint fresh, and I don't want
+to do that.  What's the matter with you, John?  Want to heave your
+money away, do you?  Better keep the odd change to buy cigars.  You
+can heave them away, if you want to--and you won't be liable to hit
+many lawyers neither."
+
+At supper time as they stood by the gate of the High Cliff House
+the captain, who was to eat at his regular boarding-place, the
+Parkers', that evening, ventured to ask the question he had been so
+anxious to ask.
+
+"Well, John?" he began.
+
+"Well, Captain?"
+
+"Have you--have you made up your mind yet?"
+
+Kendrick turned over, with his foot, a stone in the path.
+
+"I--" he paused and turned the stone back again.  Then he drew a
+long breath.  "I must make it up," he said, "and I can do it as
+well now as a week later, I suppose.  Wherever I go there will be a
+risk, a big risk.  Captain Bangs, I'll take that risk here.  If you
+are willing to let me have that office of yours for six months at
+the figure you have named--and I think you are crazy to do it--I
+will send for my trunk and my furniture and begin to--look out of
+the window."
+
+Captain Obed was delighted.  "Shake, John," he exclaimed.  "I'm
+tickled to death.  And I'll tell you this: If you can't get a
+client no other way I'll--I'll break into the meetin'-house and
+steal a pew or somethin'.  Then you can defend me.  Eh . . . And
+now what about a place for you to eat and sleep?" he added, after a
+moment.
+
+The young man seemed to find the question as hard to answer as the
+other.
+
+"I like it here," he admitted.  "I like it very much indeed.  But I
+must economize and the few hundred dollars I have scraped together
+won't--"
+
+He was interrupted.  Emily Howes appeared at the corner of the
+house behind them.
+
+"Supper is ready," she called cheerfully.
+
+Both men turned to look at her.  She was bareheaded and the western
+sun made her profile a dainty silhouette, a silhouette framed in
+the spun gold of her hair.
+
+"John's comin', Miss Emily," answered the captain.  "He'll be right
+there."
+
+Emily waved her hand and hurried back to the dining-room door.  Mr.
+Kendrick kicked the stone into the grass.
+
+"I think I may as well remain here, for the present at least," he
+said.  "After all, there is such a thing as being too economical.
+A chap can't always make a martyr of himself, even if he knows he
+should."
+
+The next morning Mrs. Barnes, over at the village on a marketing
+expedition, met Captain Bangs on his way to the postoffice.
+
+"Oh, Cap'n," she said, "I've got somethin' to tell you.  'Tain't
+bad news this time; it's good.  Mr. Heman Daniels has changed his
+mind.  He's goin' to keep his room and board with me just as he's
+been doin'.  Isn't that splendid!"
+
+The sewing circles and the club and the noon and evening groups at
+the postoffice had two new subjects for verbal dissection during
+the next fortnight.  This was, in its way, a sort of special
+Providence, for this was the dull season, when there were no more
+wrecks alongshore or schooners aground on the bars, and the
+boarders and cottagers from the cities had not yet come to East
+Wellmouth.  Also the opening of the High Cliff House was getting to
+be a worn-out topic.  So Emily Howes, her appearance and behavior,
+and John Kendrick, HIS behavior and his astonishing recklessness in
+attempting to wrest a portion of the county law practice from Heman
+Daniels, were welcomed as dispensations and discussed with gusto.
+
+Emily came through the gossip mill ground fine, but with surprisingly
+little chaff.  She was "pretty as a picture," all the males agreed
+upon that point.  And even the females admitted that she was "kind
+of good-lookin'," although Hannah Parker's diagnosis that she was
+"declined to be consumptic" and Mrs. Larkin's that she was older
+than she "made out to be," had some adherents.  All agreed, however,
+that she knew how to run a boarding-house and that she was destined
+to be the "salvation" of Thankful Barnes' venture at the Cap'n Abner
+place.
+
+Certainly she did prove herself to possess marked ability as a
+business manager.  Quietly, and without undue assertion, she
+reorganized the affairs of the High Cliff House.  No one detected
+any difference in the quality of the meals served there, in their
+variety or ample sufficiency.  But, little by little, she took upon
+herself the buying of supplies, the regulation of accounts, the
+prompt payment of bills and the equally prompt collection of board
+and room rent.  Thankful found the cares upon her shoulders less
+and less heavy, and she was more free to do what she was so capable
+of doing, that is, superintend the cooking and the housekeeping.
+
+But Thankful herself was puzzled.
+
+"I don't understand it," she said.  "I've always had to look out
+for myself, and others, too.  There ain't been a minute since I can
+remember that I ain't had somebody dependent upon me.  I cal'lated
+I could run a boardin'-house if I couldn't do anything else.  But
+I'm just as sure as I am that I'm alive that if you hadn't come
+when you did I'd have run this one into the ground and myself into
+the poorhouse.  I don't understand it."
+
+Emily smiled and put her arm about her cousin's waist.  "Oh, no,
+you wouldn't, Auntie," she said.  "It wasn't as bad as that.  You
+needed help, that was all.  And you are too generous and kind-
+hearted.  You were always fearful that your boarders might not be
+satisfied.  I have been teaching bookkeeping and accounting, you
+see, and, besides, I have lived in a family where the principal
+struggle was to satisfy the butcher and the baker and the
+candlestick maker.  This is real fun compared to that."
+
+Thankful shook her head.
+
+"I know," she said; "you always talk that way, Emily.  But I'm
+afraid you'll make yourself sick.  You come down here purpose for
+your health, you know."
+
+Emily laughed and patted Mrs. Barnes' plump shoulder.
+
+"Health!" she repeated.  "Why, I have never been as well since I
+can remember.  I couldn't be sick here, in this wonderful place, if
+I tried.  Do you think I look ill? . . .  Oh, Mr. Daniels!"
+addressing the lawyer, who had just entered the dining-room, "I
+want your opinion, as a--a specialist.  Auntie is afraid I am ill.
+Don't you think I look about as well as anyone could look?"
+
+Heman bowed.  "If my poor opinion is worth anything," he observed,
+"I should say that to find fault with your appearance, Miss Howes,
+would be like venturing to--er---paint the lily, as the saying is.
+I might say more, but--ahem--perhaps I had better not."
+
+Judging by the young lady's expression he had said quite enough
+already.
+
+"Idiot!" she exclaimed, after he had left the room.  "I ask him a
+sensible question and he thinks it necessary to answer with a silly
+compliment.  Thought I was fishing for one, probably.  Why will men
+be such fools--some men?"
+
+Mr. Daniels' opinion concerning his professional rival was asked a
+good many times during that first fortnight.  He treated the
+subject as he did the rival, with condescending toleration.  It was
+quite plain that he considered his own position too secure to be
+shaken.  In fact, his feeling toward John Kendrick seemed to be a
+sort of kindly pity.
+
+"He appears to be a very well-meaning young man," he said, in reply
+to one of the questions.  "Rash, of course; very young men are
+likely to be rash--and perhaps more hopeful than some of us older
+and--ahem--wiser persons might be under the same circumstances.
+But he is well-meaning and persevering.  I have no doubt he will
+manage to pick up a few crumbs, here and there.  I may be able to
+throw a few in his way.  There are always cases--ah--which I can't--
+or don't wish to--accept."
+
+When this remark was repeated to Captain Obed the latter sniffed.
+
+"Humph!" he observed, "I don't know what they are.  I never see a
+case Heman wouldn't accept, if there was as much as seventy-five
+cents in it.  If bananas was a nickel a bunch the only part he'd
+throw in anybody else's way would be the skins."
+
+John, himself, did not seem to mind or care what Mr. Daniels or
+anyone else said.  He wrote a letter to New York and, in the course
+of time, a second-hand desk, a few chairs, and half a dozen cases
+of law books arrived by freight and were installed in the ex-
+barber-shop.  The local sign-painter perpetrated a sign with "John
+Kendrick, Attorney-at-law" upon it in gilt letters, and the
+"looking out of the window" really began.
+
+And that was about all that did begin for days and days.  Each
+morning or afternoon, Sundays excepted, Captain Bangs would drop in
+at the office and find no one there, no one but the tenant, that
+is.  The latter, seated behind the desk, with a big sheepskin-bound
+volume spread open upon it, was always glad to see his visitor.
+Their conversations were characteristic.
+
+"Hello, John!" the captain would begin.  "How are the clients
+comin'?"
+
+"Don't know, Captain.  None of them has as yet got near enough so
+that I could see how he comes."
+
+"Humph!  I want to know.  Mr. John D. Jacob Vanderbilt ain't
+cruised in from Newport to put his affairs in your hands?  Sho'!
+He's pretty short-sighted, ain't he?"
+
+"Very.  He's losing valuable time."
+
+"Well, I expected better things of him, I must say.  Ain't gettin'
+discouraged, are you, John?"
+
+"No, indeed.  If there was much discouragement in my make-up I
+should have stopped before I began.  How is the fish business,
+Captain?"
+
+"Well, 'tain't what it ought to be this season of the year.  Say,
+John, couldn't you subpoena a school of mackerel for me?  Serve an
+order of the court on them to come into my weirs and answer for
+their sins, or somethin' like that?  I'd be willin' to pay you a
+fairly good fee."
+
+On one occasion the visitor asked his friend what he found to do
+all the long days.  "Don't study law ALL the time, do you, John?"
+he queried.
+
+Kendrick shook his head.  "No," he answered, gravely.  "Between
+studies I enjoy the view.  Magnificent view from this window, don't
+you think?"
+
+Captain Obed inspected the "view."  The principal feature in the
+landscape was Dr. Jameson's cow, pastured in the vacant lot between
+the doctor's home and the postoffice.
+
+"Very fine cow, that," commented the lawyer.  "An inspiring
+creature.  I spend hours looking at that cow.  She is a comfort to
+my philosophic soul."
+
+The captain observed that he wanted to know.
+
+"Yes," continued Kendrick.  "She is happy; you can see that she is
+happy.  Now why?"
+
+"'Cause she's eatin' grass," declared Captain Obed, promptly.
+
+"That's it.  Good for you!  You have a philosophic soul yourself,
+Captain.  She is happy because she has nothing to do but eat, and
+there is plenty to eat.  That's my case exactly.  I have nothing to
+do except eat, and at Mrs. Barnes' boarding-house there is always
+enough, and more than enough, to eat.  The cow is happy and I ought
+to be, I suppose.  If MY food was furnished free of cost I should
+be, I presume."
+
+Kenelm Parker heard a conversation like the foregoing on one
+occasion and left the office rubbing his forehead.
+
+"There's two lunatics in that place," he told the postmaster.  "And
+if I'd stayed there much longer and listened to their ravin's
+there'd have been another one."
+
+Kenelm seemed unusually contented and happy in his capacity as man-
+of-all-work at the High Cliff House.  Possibly the fact that there
+was so very little real work to do may have helped to keep him in
+this frame of mind.  He had always the appearance of being very
+busy; a rake or a hoe or the kindling hatchet were seldom out of
+reach of his hand.  He talked a great deal about being "beat out,"
+and of the care and responsibility which were his.  Most of these
+remarks were addressed to Imogene, to whom he had apparently taken
+a great fancy.
+
+Imogene was divided in her feelings toward Mr. Parker.
+
+"He's an awful interestin' talker," she confided to Emily.  "Every
+time he comes into this kitchen I have to watch out or he'll stay
+and talk till noontime.  And yet if I want to get him to do
+somethin' or other he is always chock full of business that can't
+wait a minute.  I like to hear him talk--he's got ideas on 'most
+every kind of thing--but I have to work, myself."
+
+"Do you mean that he doesn't work?" asked Emily.
+
+"I don't know whether he does or not.  I can't make out.  If he
+don't he's an awful good make-believe, that's all I've got to say.
+One time I caught him back of the woodpile sound asleep, but he was
+hanging onto the axe just the same.  Said he set up half the night
+before worryin' for fear he mightn't be able to get through his
+next day's work, and the want of rest had been too much for him.
+Then he started in to tell me about his home life and I listened
+for ten minutes before I come to enough to get back to the house."
+
+"Do you think he is lazy, Imogene?"
+
+"I don't know.  He says he never had no chance and it might be
+that's so.  He says the ambition's been pretty well drove out of
+him, and I guess it has.  I should think 'twould be.  The way that
+sister of his nags at him all the time is enough to drive out the--
+the measles."
+
+Imogene and Hannah Parker, as Captain Obed said, "rubbed each other
+the wrong way."  Hannah was continually calling to see her brother,
+probably to make sure that he was there and not in the dangerous
+Larkin neighborhood.  Imogene resented these visits--"usin' up Mrs.
+Thankful's time," she said they were--and she and Hannah had some
+amusing clashes.  Miss Parker was inclined to patronize the girl
+from the Orphan's Home, and Imogene objected.
+
+"Well," observed Hannah, on one occasion, "I presume likely you
+find it nice to be down here, where folks are folks and not just
+'inmates.'  It must be dreadful to be an 'inmate.'"
+
+Imogene sniffed.  "There's all kinds of inmates," she said, "same
+as there's all kinds of folks.  Far's that goes, there's some folks
+couldn't be an inmate, if they wanted to.  They wouldn't be let in."
+
+"Oh, is that so?  Judgin' by what I've seen I shouldn't have
+thought them that run such places was very particular.  Where's
+Kenelm?"
+
+"I don't know.  He's to work, I suppose.  That's what he's hired
+for, they tell me."
+
+"Oh, indeed!  Well," with emphasis, "he doesn't have to work,
+unless he wants to.  My brother has money of his own, enough to
+subside on comf'tably, if he wanted to do it.  His comin' here is
+just to accommodate Mrs. Barnes, that's all.  Where is he?"
+
+"Last I saw of him he was accommodatin' the horse stall.  He may be
+uptown by this time, for all I know."
+
+"Uptown?" in alarm.  "What would he be uptown for?  He ain't got
+any business there, has he?"
+
+"Search ME.  Good many guys--folks, I mean--seem to be always
+hangin' 'round where they haven't business.  Well, I've got some of
+my own and I guess I'd better attend to it.  Good mornin', ma'am."
+
+Miss Howes cautioned Imogene against arousing the Parkers' enmity.
+
+"Lordy!  I mean mercy sakes, ma'am," exclaimed Imogene, "you
+needn't be afraid so far as Kenelm's concerned.  I do boss him
+around some, when I think it's needful, but it ain't my bossin'
+that worries him, it's that Hannah woman's.  He says she's at him
+all the time.  Don't give him the peace of his life, he says.  He's
+a misunderstood man, he tells me.  Maybe he is; there are such, you
+know.  I've read about 'em in stories."
+
+Emily smiled.  "Well," she said, "I wouldn't drive him too hard, if
+I were you, Imogene.  He isn't the hardest worker in the world, but
+he does do some work, and men who can be hired to work about a
+place in summer are scarce here in East Wellmouth.  You must be
+patient with him."
+
+"Lor--land sakes!  I am.  But he does make me cross.  He'd be
+settin' in my kitchen every evenin' if I'd let him.  Don't seem to
+want to go home.  I don't know's I blame him for that.  You think I
+ought to let him set, I suppose, Miss Howes?"
+
+"Why, yes, if he doesn't annoy you too much.  We must keep him
+contented.  You must sacrifice your own feelings to help Aunt
+Thankful.  You would be willing to make some sacrifice for her,
+wouldn't you?"
+
+"You bet your life I would!  She's the best woman on earth, Mrs.
+Barnes is.  I'd do anything for her, sacrifice my head, if that was
+worth five cents to anybody.  All right, he can set if he wants to.
+I--I suppose I might improve his mind, hey, ma'am?  By readin' to
+him, I mean.  Mrs. Thankful, she's been givin' me books to improve
+my mind; perhaps they'd improve his if I read 'em out loud to him.
+His sister prob'ly won't like it, but I don't care.  You couldn't
+improve HER mind; she ain't got any.  It all run off the end of her
+tongue long ago."
+
+By the Fourth of July the High Cliff House was filled with
+boarders.  Every room was taken, even the little back bedroom and
+the big room adjoining it.  These were taken by a young couple from
+Worcester and, if they heard any unusual noises in their apartment,
+they did not mention them.  Thankful's dread of that little room
+had entirely disappeared.  She was now thoroughly convinced that
+her imagination and the storm were responsible for the "spooks."
+
+John Kendrick continued to sleep and eat at the new boarding-house.
+He was a general favorite there, although rather silent and
+disinclined to take an active part in the conversation at table.
+He talked more with Emily Howes than with anyone and she and he
+were becoming very friendly.  Emily, Thankful and Captain Obed
+Bangs were the only real friends the young man had; he might have
+had more, but he did not seem to care for them.  With these three,
+however, and particularly with Emily, he was even confidential,
+speaking of his professional affairs and prospects, subjects which
+he never mentioned to others.
+
+These--the prospects--were brighter than at first.  He had accepted
+one case and refused another.  The refusal came as a surprise to
+East Wellmouth and caused much comment.  Mr. Chris Badger was a
+passenger on the train from Boston and that train ran off the track
+at Buzzard's Bay.  No one was seriously hurt except Mr. Badger.
+The latter gentleman purchased a pair of crutches and limped about
+on them, proclaiming himself a cripple for life.  He and Heman
+Daniels had had a disagreement over a business matter so Chris took
+his damage suit against the railroad to John Kendrick.  And John
+refused it.
+
+Captain Obed, much disturbed, questioned his friend.
+
+"Land of love, John!" he said.  "Here you've been roostin' here,
+lookin' out of this window and prayin' for a job to come along.
+Now one does come along and you turn it down.  Why?"
+
+Kendrick laughed.  "I'm cursed with a strong sense of contrast,
+Captain," he replied.  "Those crutches are too straight for me."
+
+The captain stared.  "Straight!" he repeated.  "All crutches are
+straight, ain't they?"
+
+"Possibly; but some cripples are crooked."
+
+So it was to Mr. Daniels, after all, that the damage suit came, and
+Heman brought about a three-hundred-dollar settlement.  Most of
+East Wellmouth pronounced Kendrick "too pesky particular," but in
+some quarters, and these not by any means the least influential,
+his attitude gained approval and respect.  This feeling was
+strengthened by his taking Edgar Wingate's suit against that same
+railroad.  Edgar's woodlot was set on fire by sparks from the
+locomotive and John forced payment, and liberal payment, for the
+damage.  Other cases, small ones, began to come his way.  Lawyer
+Daniels had enemies in the community who had been waiting to take
+their legal affairs elsewhere.
+
+Heman still professed entire indifference, but he no longer
+patronized his rival.  John had a quiet way of squelching such
+patronage and of turning the laugh, which was annoying to a person
+lacking a sense of humor.  And then, too, it was quite evident that
+Emily Howes' liking for the younger man displeased Daniels greatly.
+Heman liked Emily, seemed to like her very much indeed.  On one or
+two occasions he had taken her to ride behind his fast horse, and
+he often brought bouquets and fruit, "given me by my clients and
+friends," he explained.  "One can't refuse little gifts like that,
+but it is a comfort, to a bachelor like me, to be able to hand them
+on--hand them on--yes."
+
+The first of August brought a new sensation and a new resident to
+East Wellmouth.  The big Colfax estate was sold and the buyer was
+no less a personage than E. Holliday Kendrick, John Kendrick's
+aristocratic Fifth Avenue cousin.  His coming was as great a
+surprise to John as to the rest of the community, but he seemed
+much less excited over it.  The purchase was quietly completed and,
+one pleasant morning, the great E. Holliday himself appeared in
+East Wellmouth accompanied by a wife and child, two motor cars and
+six servants.
+
+Captain Obed Bangs, who had been spending a week in Orham on
+business connected with his fish weirs, returned to find the
+village chanting the praises of the new arrival.  Somehow or other
+E. Holliday had managed already to convey the impression that he
+was the most important person in creation.  The captain happening
+in at the High Cliff House after supper, found the group in the
+living-room discussing the all-important topic.  Most of the city
+boarders were out enjoying a "marshmallow toast" about a bonfire on
+the beach, but the "regulars" were present.
+
+"Where's Mrs. Thankful?" was Captain Obed's first question.
+
+"She's in the kitchen, I think," replied John.  "Shall I call her?"
+
+"Oh, no, no!  It ain't particular.  I just--just wondered where she
+was, that's all.  I wouldn't trouble her on no account."
+
+John smiled.  He seemed quietly amused about something.  He
+regarded his friend, who, after a glance in his direction, was
+staring at the lamp on the table, and said:
+
+"I'm sure it would be no trouble, Captain.  Better let me tell her
+you are here."
+
+Captain Obed was saved the embarrassment of further protestations
+by the entrance of Thankful herself; Emily accompanied her.  The
+captain shook hands with Mrs. Barnes and her cousin and hastened to
+announce that he heard "big news" down street and had run over to
+find out how much truth there was in it.
+
+"Couldn't scurcely believe it, myself," he declared.  "John here,
+never said a word about his high-toned relation comin' to East
+Wellmouth.  Had you any idea he was comin', John?"
+
+John shook his head.
+
+"No," he said.  "The last time I saw him in New York, which was two
+years or more ago, he did say something about being on the lookout
+for a summer residence.  But he did not mention East Wellmouth; nor
+did I.  I remember hearing that he and the late Mr. Colfax were
+quite friendly, associated in business affairs, I believe.
+Probably that accounts for his being here."
+
+"Set down, everybody," urged Thankful.  "I'm willin' to set down,
+myself, I can tell you.  Been on my feet 'most of the day.  What
+sort of a person is this relation of yours, Mr. Kendrick?  He ought
+to be all right, if there's anything in family connections."
+
+Heman Daniels answered the question.  He spoke with authority.
+
+"Mr. Holliday is a fine gentleman," he announced, emphatically.
+"I've seen him two or three times since he came.  He's a
+millionaire, but it doesn't make him pompous or stand-offish.  He
+and I spoke--er--conversed together as friendly and easy as if we
+had known each other all our lives.  He is very much interested in
+East Wellmouth.  He tells me that, if the place keeps on suiting
+him as it has so far, he intends making it his permanent home.  Of
+course he won't stay here ALL the year--the family have a house in
+Florida and one in New York, I believe--but he will call East
+Wellmouth his real home and his interests will center here."
+
+There was a general expression of satisfaction.  Miss Timpson
+declared that it was "real lovely" of Mr. Holliday Kendrick.  Caleb
+Hammond announced that he always cal'lated there was a boom coming
+for the town.  Had said so more times than he could count.
+"Folks'll tell you I said it, too," he proclaimed stoutly.
+"They'll bear me out in it, if you ask 'em."
+
+"I'm glad we're goin' to have such nice neighbors," said Thankful.
+"It's always worried me a little wonderin' who that Colfax place
+might be sold to.  I didn't know but somebody might get it with the
+notion of startin' another hotel."
+
+"Hannah Parker ain't opened her mouth to talk of anything else
+since I got back," said Captain Bangs.  "And it's been open most of
+the time, too.  She says John's rich relation's locatin' here is a
+dissipation of Providence, if you know what that is."
+
+John smiled but he said nothing.  Emily was silent, also; she was
+regarding the young man intently.
+
+"Yes, sir," continued Mr. Daniels, evidently pleased at the
+approval with which his statement had been met.  "Yes, sir, Mr. E.
+Holliday Kendrick is destined to be a great acquisition to this
+town; mark my words.  He tells me he shall hire no one to do his
+work except East Wellmouth people.  And there will be a lot of work
+to be done, if he carries out his plans.  He intends building an
+addition to his house, and enlarging his estate--"
+
+Thankful interrupted.
+
+"Enlargin' it!" she repeated.  "Mercy sakes!  What for?  I should
+think 'twas large enough now!"
+
+Heman smiled tolerantly.  "To us--the ordinary--er--citizens, it
+might appear so," he observed.  "But the--er--New York ideas is
+broader than the average Cape Codder's, if you'll excuse me, Mrs.
+Barnes.  Mr. Kendrick has begun to spend money here already, and he
+will doubtless spend more.  He contemplates public improvements as
+well as private.  He asked me what sort of spirit there was in our
+community.  Ahem!"
+
+He paused, apparently to let the importance of the announcement
+sink in.  It sank, or seemed to.  Mr. Hammond, however, was
+somewhat puzzled.
+
+"Now what do you cal'late he meant by that?" he queried.
+
+John Kendrick answered.  He and Emily had exchanged smiles.
+Neither of them seemed as deeply impressed with the Daniels
+proclamation as the others of the group.
+
+"Perhaps he wanted to buy a drink," suggested John, gravely.
+
+Miss Timpson was shocked; her expression showed it.  Caleb Hammond
+did not seem to know whether to be shocked or not; the Hammond
+appreciation of a joke generally arrived on a later train.  Mrs.
+Barnes and Captain Obed laughed, but not too heartily.
+
+Mr. Daniels did not laugh.  The frivolous interruption evidently
+jarred him.
+
+"I scarcely imagine that to be the reason," he said, drily.  "If
+Mr. E. Holliday Kendrick does indulge I guess likely--that is, I
+presume he would not find it necessary to buy his--er--beverages
+here.  He meant public spirit, of course.  He asked me who our
+leading men were."
+
+"Who were they--the others, I mean?" asked John.
+
+Emily rubbed away a smile with her handkerchief.  Heman noticed her
+action, and his color brightened.
+
+"They WERE public," he said, rather sharply.  "They were men of
+standing--long standing in the community.  Prominent and prosperous
+citizens, who have lived here long enough for East Wellmouth to
+know them--and respect them."
+
+This was a shot in the bull's eye.  Miss Timpson evidently thought
+so, for she nodded approval.  Daniels continued.
+
+"They were men of known worth," he went on.  "Practical citizens
+whose past as well as present is known.  Your cousin--I believe he
+is your cousin, Kendrick, although he did not mention the
+relationship--was grateful to me for giving him their names.  He is
+a practical man, himself."
+
+John nodded.  "He must be," he admitted.  "No one but a practical
+man could get all that advice, free, from a lawyer."
+
+Captain Obed laughed aloud.
+
+"That's a good one," he declared.  "Lawyers ain't in the habit of
+GIVIN' much, 'cordin' to all accounts.  How about it, Heman?"
+
+Mr. Daniels ignored the question and the questioner.  He rose to
+his feet.
+
+"There are SOME lawyers," he observed, crisply, "whose advice is
+not asked--to any great extent.  I--I think I will join the group
+on the beach.  It's a beautiful evening.  Won't you accompany me,
+Miss Howes?"
+
+Emily declined the invitation.  "No, thank you, Mr. Daniels," she
+said.  "I am rather tired and I think I won't go out tonight.  By
+the way, Mr. Kendrick," she added, "was the great man asking your
+advice also?  I happened to see him go into your office yesterday."
+
+Everyone was surprised--everyone except the speaker and the person
+addressed, that is--but Heman's surprise was most manifest.  His
+hand was on the knob of the door, but now he turned.
+
+"In HIS office?" he repeated.  "Kendrick, was he in to see YOU?"
+
+John bowed assent.  "Yes," he said.  "He seems to be contemplating
+retaining a sort of--of resident attorney to look after his local
+affairs.  I mentioned your name, Daniels."
+
+Mr. Daniels went out.  The door banged behind him.
+
+A half hour later, after Mr. Hammond also had gone to join the
+marshmallow toasters and Miss Timpson had retired to her room, John
+told the others the story.  Mr. E. Holliday Kendrick HAD called
+upon him at his office and he did contemplate engaging a resident
+lawyer.  There were likely to be many of what he termed "minor
+details" connected with the transfer of the Colfax estate to him
+and the purchases which he meant to make later on, and an attorney
+at his beck and call would be a great convenience.  Not this only;
+he had actually offered his young cousin the position, had offered
+to engage him and to pay him several hundred dollars as a retaining
+fee.
+
+He told his hearers so much, and then he stopped.  Emily, who had
+seemed much interested, waited a moment and then begged him to
+continue.
+
+"Well?" she said.  "Why don't you tell us the rest?  We are all
+waiting to congratulate you.  You accepted, of course."
+
+John shook his head.  "Why, no," he replied, "I didn't accept,
+exactly.  I did say I would think it over; but I--well, I'm not
+sure that I shall accept."
+
+Here was the unexpected.  His hearers looked at each other in
+amazement.
+
+"You won't accept!" cried Thankful.  "Why, Mr. Kendrick."
+
+"Won't accept!" shouted Captain Obed.  "What on earth!  Why, John
+Kendrick, what's the matter with you?  Ain't you been settin' in
+that office of yours waitin' and waitin' for somethin' worth while
+to come along?  And now a really big chance does come, and you say
+you don't know as you'll take it!  What kind of talk's that, I'd
+like to know!"
+
+John smiled.  Miss Howes, who seemed as much surprised as the
+others, did not smile.
+
+"Why won't you take it?" demanded the captain.
+
+"Oh, I don't know.  The proposition doesn't appeal to me as
+strongly as it should, perhaps.  Cousin Holliday and I ARE cousins,
+but we--well, we differ in other ways besides the size of our
+incomes.  When I was in New York I went to him at one time.  I was--
+I needed--well, I went to him.  He consented to see me and he
+listened to what I had to say, but he was not too cordial.  He
+didn't ask me to call again.  Now he seems changed, I admit.
+Remembers perfectly well that I am his father's brother's only
+child and all that, and out of the kindness of his heart offers me
+employment.  But--but I don't know."
+
+No one spoke for a moment.  Then Emily broke the silence.
+
+"You don't know?" she repeated, rather sharply.  "Why not, may I
+ask?"
+
+"Oh, I don't, that's all.  For one thing, there is just a little
+too much condescension in my dear cousin's manner.  I may be a
+yellow dog, but I don't like to sit up and beg when my master
+threatens to throw me a bone.  Perhaps I'm particular as to who
+that master may be."
+
+Again it was Emily who spoke.
+
+"Perhaps you are--TOO particular," she said.  "Can you afford to be
+so particular?"
+
+"Probably not.  But, you see, there is another thing.  There is a
+question of professional ethics involved.  If I take that retainer
+I am bound in honor to undertake any case Cousin Holliday may give
+me.  And--and, I'm not sure I should care to do that.  You know how
+I feel about a lawyer's duty to his client and his duty to himself.
+There are certain questions--"
+
+She interrupted.
+
+"I think there are, too many questions," she said.  "I lose
+patience with you sometimes.  Often and often I have known of your
+refusing cases which other lawyers have taken and won."
+
+"Meaning Brother Daniels?"  He asked it with a smile, but with some
+sarcasm in his tone.  Both he and Miss Rowes seemed to have
+forgotten that the captain and Thankful were present.
+
+"Why, yes.  Mr. Daniels has accepted cases which you have refused.
+No one thinks the less of him for it.  He will accept your cousin's
+retainer if you don't."
+
+"I presume he will.  That would be the practical thing to do, and
+he prides himself on his practicality."
+
+"Practicality is not altogether bad.  It is often necessary in this
+practical world.  What case is Mr. Kendrick likely to put in your
+hands which you would hesitate to undertake?"
+
+"None that I know of.  But if he did, I--"
+
+"You could refuse to take it."
+
+"Why, not easily.  I should have accepted his retainer and that,
+according to legal etiquette, would make me honor bound to--"
+
+She interrupted again.  Her patience was almost gone, that was
+plain.  For the matter of that, so was Captain Obed's.
+
+"Don't you think that you are a trifle too sensitive concerning
+honor?" she asked.  "And too suspicious besides?  I do.  Oh, I am
+tired of your scruples.  I don't like to see you letting success
+and--and all the rest of it pass you by, when other men, not so
+overscrupulous, do succeed.  Don't you care for success?  Or for
+money?"
+
+John interrupted her.  He leaned forward and spoke, deliberately
+but firmly.  And he looked her straight in the face.
+
+"I do," he said.  "I care for both--now--more than I ever thought I
+could care."
+
+And, all at once, the young lady seemed to remember that her cousin
+and the captain were in the room.  She colored, and when she spoke
+it was in a different tone.
+
+"Then," she said, "it seems to me, if I were you, I should accept
+the opportunities that came in my way.  Of course, it's not my
+affair.  I shouldn't have presumed to advise."  She rose and moved
+toward the door.  "Good night, Mr. Kendrick," she said.  "Good
+night, Captain Bangs.  Auntie, you will excuse me, won't you?  I am
+rather tired tonight, and--"
+
+But once more Kendrick interrupted.
+
+"One moment, please, Miss Howes," he said, earnestly.  "Do I
+understand--do you mean that you wish me to accept Cousin
+Holliday's retainer?"
+
+Emily paused.
+
+"Why," she answered, after an instant's hesitation, "I--I really
+don't see why my wish one way or the other should be very strong.
+But--but as a friend of yours--of course we are all your friends,
+Mr. Kendrick--as one of your friends I--we, naturally, like to see
+you rise in your profession."
+
+"Then you advise me to accept?"
+
+"If my advice is worth anything--yes.  Good night."
+
+Next day, when Captain Obed made his customary call at the ex-
+barber-shop, he ventured to ask the question uppermost in his mind.
+
+"Have you decided yet, John?" he asked.
+
+His friend looked at him.
+
+"Meaning--what?" he queried.
+
+"Meanin'--you know what I mean well enough.  Have you decided to
+take your cousin's offer?"
+
+"I've done more than that, Captain.  I have accepted the offer and
+the retaining fee, too."
+
+Captain Obed sprang forward and held out his hand.
+
+"Bully for you, John!" he shouted.  "That's the best thing you ever
+done in your life.  NOW you've really started."
+
+Kendrick smiled.  "Yes," he admitted, "I have started.  Where I may
+finish is another matter."
+
+"Oh, you'll finish all right.  Don't be a Jeremiah, John.  Well,
+well!  This is fine.  Won't all hands be pleased!"
+
+"Yes, won't they!  Especially Brother Daniels.  Daniels will be
+overcome with joy.  Captain, have a cigar.  Have two cigars.  I
+have begun to spend my retainer already, you see."
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+The August days were busy ones at the High Cliff House.  Every room
+was filled and the tables in the dining-room well crowded.
+Thankful told Captain Bangs that she could not spare time even to
+look out of the window.  "And yet Emily and I are about the only
+ones who don't look out," she added.  "There's enough goin' on to
+look at, that's sartin."
+
+There was indeed.  Mr. E. Holliday Kendrick having taken possession
+of his new estate, immediately set about the improving and
+enlarging which Mr. Daniels had quoted him as contemplating.
+Carpenters, painters and gardeners were at work daily.  The
+Kendrick motor cars and the Kendrick servants were much in evidence
+along East Wellmouth's main road.  What had been done by the great
+man and his employees and what would be done in the near future
+kept the gossips busy.  He was planning a new rose garden--"the
+finest from Buzzard's Bay down"; he had torn out the "whole
+broadside" of the music-room and was "cal'latin'" to make it twice
+as large as formerly; he was to build a large conservatory on the
+knoll by the stables.  Hannah Parker declared she could not see the
+need of this.  "There's a tower onto the main buildin' already,"
+she said, "pretty nigh as high as a lighthouse.  I should think a
+body could see fur enough from that tower, without riggin' up a
+conservatory.  Well, Mrs. Kendrick needn't ask ME to go up in it.
+I went to the top of the conservatory on Scargo Hill one time and I
+was so dizzy in the head I thought sure I'd fall right over the
+railin'."
+
+The High Cliff boarders--Miss Timpson and Caleb Hammond especially--
+spent a great deal of time peering from the living-room windows
+and watching what they called the "goin's on" at the Kendrick
+estate.  Occasionally they caught a glimpse of E. Holliday himself.
+The great man was inclined to greatness even in the physical
+meaning of the word, for he was tall and stout, and dignified, not
+to say pompous.  Arrayed in white flannels he issued orders to his
+hirelings and the hirelings obeyed him.  When one is monarch of the
+larger portion of all he surveys it must be gratifying to feel that
+one looks the part.  E. Holliday looked it and apparently felt it.
+
+Thankful, during this, her most prosperous season, was active from
+morning until night.  When that night came she was ready for sleep,
+ready for more than she could afford to take.  Emily was invaluable
+as manager and assistant, and Captain Obed Bangs assisted and
+advised in every way that he could.  The captain had come to be
+what Mrs. Barnes called the "sheet anchor" of the High Cliff House.
+Whenever the advice of a man, or a man's help was needed, it was to
+Captain Bangs that she turned.  And Captain Obed was always only
+too glad to help.  Hannah Parker declared he spent more time at the
+boarding house than he did at her home.
+
+If Emily Howes noticed how frequently the captain called--and it is
+probable that she did--she said nothing about it.  John Kendrick
+must have noticed it, for occasionally, when he and Captain Obed
+were alone, he made an irrelevant remark like the following:
+
+"Captain," he said, on one occasion, "I think you're growing
+younger every day."
+
+"Who?  Me?  Go on, John!  How you talk!  I'm so old my timbers
+creak every time I go up a flight of stairs.  They'll be sendin' me
+to the junk pile pretty soon."
+
+"I guess not.  You're as young as I am, every bit.  Not in years,
+perhaps, but in spirit and energy.  And you surprise me, too.  I
+didn't know you were such a lady's man."
+
+"Me?  A lady's man?  Tut, tut!  Don't talk foolish.  If I've
+cruised alone all these years I cal'late that's proof enough of how
+much a lady's man I am."
+
+"That's no proof.  You haven't happened upon the right sort of
+consort, that's all.  Look at Brother Daniels; he is a bachelor,
+too, but everyone knows what a lady's man he is."
+
+"Humph!  You ain't comparin' me to Heman Daniels, are you?"
+
+"No.  No, of course not.  I shouldn't dare.  Comparing any mortal
+with Daniels would be heresy, wouldn't it?  But you certainly are
+popular with the fair sex.  Why, even Imogene has fallen under the
+influence.  She says Mrs. Barnes thinks you are the finest man in
+the world."
+
+"She does, hey?  Well," tartly, "she better mind her own affairs.
+I thought she rated Kenelm Parker about as high as anybody these
+days.  He spends more time in that kitchen of hers--"
+
+"There, there, Captain!  Don't sidestep.  The fair Imogene may be
+susceptible to Mr. Parker's charms, but that is probably because
+you haven't smiled upon her.  If you--"
+
+"Say, look here, John Kendrick!  If you keep on talkin' loony in
+this way I'll begin to heave out a few hints myself.  I may be as
+popular as you say, with Imogene and--and the help, but I know
+somebody else that is catchin' the same disease."
+
+"Meaning Mr. Daniels, I suppose?  He is popular, I admit."
+
+"Is he?  Well, you ought to know best.  Seems to me I can call to
+mind somebody else that is fairly popular--in some latitudes.  By
+the way, John, you don't seem to be as popular with Heman as you
+was at first."
+
+"I'm sorry.  My accepting my cousin's retainer may--"
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean that.  What was you and Emily doin' at Chris
+Badger's store yesterday afternoon?"
+
+"Doing?  Yesterday?  Oh, yes!  I did meet Miss Howes while I was on
+my way to the office and I waited while she did a little marketing.
+What in the world--"
+
+"Nothin'.  Fur's that goes I don't think either of you knew you was
+IN the world.  I passed right by and you didn't see me.  Heman saw
+you, too.  What was your marketin'--vegetables?"
+
+"I believe so.  Captain, you're sidestepping again.  It was of you,
+not me, I was speaking when--"
+
+"Yes, I know.  Well, I'm speakin' about you now.  Heman saw you
+buyin' them vegetables.  Tomatters, wa'n't they?"
+
+"Perhaps so.  Have you been drinking?  What difference does it make
+whether we bought tomatoes or potatoes?"
+
+"Didn't make none--to me.  But I bet Heman didn't like to see you
+two buyin' tomatters."
+
+"For heaven's sake, why not?"
+
+"Oh, 'cause he probably remembered, same as I did, what folks used
+to call 'em in the old days."
+
+"You HAVE been drinking!  What did they use to call them?"
+
+"Love apples," replied Captain Obed, and strode away chuckling.
+John watched him go.  He, too, laughed at first, but his laugh
+broke off in the middle and when he went into the house his
+expression was troubled and serious.
+
+One remark of the captain's was true enough; John Kendrick's
+popularity with his professional rival was growing daily less.  The
+pair were scrupulously polite to each other, but they seldom spoke
+except when others were present, and Mr. Daniels made it a point
+apparently to be present whenever Miss Howes was in the room.  He
+continued to bring his little offerings of fruit and flowers and
+his invitations for drives and picnics and entertainments at the
+town hall were more frequent.  Sometimes Emily accepted these
+invitations; more often she refused them.  John also occasionally
+invited her to drive with him or to play tennis on his cousin's
+courts, and these invitations she treated as she did Heman's,
+refusing some and accepting others.  She treated the pair with
+impartiality and yet Thankful was growing to believe there was a
+difference.  Imogene, outspoken, expressed her own feelings in the
+matter when she said,
+
+"Miss Emily likes Mr. Kendrick pretty well, don't she, ma'am?"
+
+Thankful regarded her maidservant with disapproval.
+
+"What makes you say that, Imogene?" she demanded.  "Of course she
+likes him.  Why shouldn't she?"
+
+"She should, ma'am.  And she does, too.  And he likes her; that's
+plain enough."
+
+"Imogene, what are you hintin' at?  Do you mean that my cousin is
+in--in love with Mr. John Kendrick?"
+
+"No'm.  I don't say that, not yet.  But there's signs that--"
+
+"Signs!  If you don't get those ridiculous story-book notions out
+of your head I don't know what I'll do to you.  What do you know
+about folks bein' in love?  You ain't in love, I hope; are you?"
+
+Imogene hesitated.  "No, ma'am," she replied.  "I ain't.  But--but
+maybe I might be, if I wanted to."
+
+"For mercy sakes!  The girl's crazy.  You MIGHT be--if you wanted
+to!  Who with?  If you're thinkin' of marryin' anybody seems to me
+I ought to know it.  Why, you ain't met more'n a dozen young
+fellers in this town, and I've taken good care to know who they
+were.  If you're thinkin' of fallin' in love--or marryin'--"
+
+Imogene interrupted.  "I ain't," she declared.  "And, anyhow,
+ma'am, gettin' married don't necessarily mean you're in love."
+
+"It don't!  Well, this beats all I ever--"
+
+"No, ma'am, it don't.  Sometimes it's a person's duty to get
+married."
+
+Thankful gasped.  "Duty!" she repeated.  "You HAVE been readin'
+more of those books, in spite of your promisin' me you wouldn't."
+
+"No, ma'am, I ain't.  Honest, I ain't."
+
+"Then what do you mean?  Imogene, what man do you care enough for
+to make you feel it's your--your duty to marry him?"
+
+"No man at all," declared Imogene, promptly and decisively.  And
+that is all she would say on the subject.
+
+Thankful repeated this astonishing conversation, or part of it, to
+Emily.  The latter considered it a good joke.  "That girl is a
+strange creature," she said, "and great fun.  You never can tell
+what she will say or think.  She is very romantic and that nonsense
+about duty and the rest of it undoubtedly is taken from some story
+she has read.  You needn't worry, Auntie.  Imogene worships you,
+and she will never leave you--to be married, or for any other
+reason."
+
+So Thankful did not worry about Imogene.  She had other worries,
+those connected with a houseful of boarders, and these were quite
+sufficient.  And now came another.  Kenelm Parker was threatening
+to leave her employ.
+
+The statement is not strictly true.  Kenelm, himself, never
+threatened to do anything.  But another person did the threatening
+for him and that person was his sister.  Hannah Parker, for some
+unaccountable reason, seemed to be developing a marked prejudice
+against the High Cliff House.  Her visits to the premises were not
+less frequent than formerly, but they were confined to the yard and
+stable; she no longer called at the house.  Her manner toward Emily
+and Thankful was cordial enough perhaps, but there was constraint
+in it and she asked a good many questions concerning her brother's
+hours of labor, what he did during the day, and the like.
+
+"She acts awful queer, seems to me," said Thankful.  "Not the way
+she did at first at all.  In the beginnin' I had to plan pretty
+well to keep her from runnin' in and sp'ilin' my whole mornin' with
+her talk.  Now she seems to be keepin' out of my way.  What we've
+done to make her act so I can't see, and neither can Emily."
+
+Captain Bangs, to whom this remark was addressed, laughed.
+
+"You ain't done anything, I guess," he said.  "It ain't you she's
+down on; it's your hired girl, the Imogene one.  She seems to be
+more down on that Imogene than a bow anchor on a mud flat.  They
+don't hitch horses, those two.  You see she tries to boss and
+condescend and Imogene gives her as good as she sends.  It's got so
+that Hannah is actually scared of that girl; don't pretend to be,
+of course; calls her 'the inmate' and all sorts of names.  But she
+is scared of her and don't like her."
+
+Thankful was troubled.  "I'm sorry," she said.  "Imogene is
+independent, but she's an awful kind-hearted girl.  I do hate
+trouble amongst neighbors."
+
+"Oh, there won't be any trouble.  Hannah's jealous, that's all the
+trouble--jealous about Kenelm.  You see, she wanted him to come
+here to work so's she could have him under her thumb and run over
+and give him orders every few minutes.  Imogene gives him orders,
+too, and he minds; she makes him.  Hannah don't like that; 'cordin'
+to her notion Kenelm hadn't ought to have any skipper but her.
+It's all right, though, Mrs. Barnes.  It's good for Kenelm and it's
+good for Hannah.  Do 'em both good, I cal'late."
+
+But when Kenelm announced that he wasn't sure but that he should
+"heave up his job" in a fortnight or so, the situation became more
+serious.
+
+"He mustn't leave," declared Thankful.  "August and early September
+are the times when I've got to have a man on the place, and you say
+yourself, Captain Bangs, that there isn't another man to be had
+just now.  If he goes--"
+
+"Oh, he won't go.  This is more of Hannah's talk; she's put him up
+to this leavin' business.  Offer him another dollar a week, if you
+have to, and I'll do some preachin' to Hannah, myself."
+
+When Thankful mentioned the matter to Imogene the latter's comment
+was puzzling but emphatic.
+
+"Don't you fret, ma'am," she said.  "He ain't left yet."
+
+"I know; but he says--"
+
+"HE don't say it.  It's that sister of his does all the sayin'.
+And SHE ain't workin' for you that I know of."
+
+"Now, Imogene, we mustn't, any of us, interfere between Kenelm and
+his sister.  She IS his sister, you know."
+
+"Yes'm.  But she isn't his mother and his grandmother and his aunt
+and all his relations.  And, if she was, 'twouldn't make no
+difference.  He's the one to say whether he's goin' to leave or
+not."
+
+"But he does say it.  That is, he--"
+
+"He just says he 'cal'lates.'  He never said he was GOIN' to do
+anything; not for years, anyhow.  It's all right, Mrs. Thankful.
+You just wait and see.  If worst comes to worst I've got a--"
+
+She stopped short.  "What have you got, Imogene?" asked Mrs.
+Barnes.
+
+"Oh, nothin', ma'am.  Only you just wait."
+
+So Thankful waited and Kenelm, perfectly aware of the situation,
+and backed by the counsel of his sister, became daily more
+independent.  He did only such work as he cared to do and his hours
+for arriving and departing were irregular, to say the least.
+
+On the last Thursday, Friday and Saturday of August the Ostable
+County Cattle Show and Fair was to be held at the county seat.  The
+annual Cattle Show is a big event on the Cape and practically all
+of East Wellmouth was planning to attend.  Most of the High Cliff
+boarders were going to the Fair and, Friday being the big day, they
+were going on Friday.  Imogene asked for a holiday on that day.
+The request was granted.  Then Kenelm announced that he and Hannah
+were cal'latin' to go.  Thankful was somewhat reluctant; she felt
+that to be deprived of the services of both her hired man and maid
+on the same day might be troublesome.  But as the Parker
+announcement was more in the nature of an ultimatum than a request,
+she said yes under protest.  But when Captain Obed appeared and
+invited her and John Kendrick and Emily Howes to go to the Fair
+with him in a hired motor car she was more troubled than ever.
+
+"I'd like to go, Cap'n," she said.  "Oh, I WOULD like to go!  I
+haven't had a day off since this place opened and I never rode in
+an automobile more'n three times in my life.  But I can't do it.
+You and Emily and John can, of course, and you must; but I've got
+to stay here.  Some of the boarders will be here for their meals
+and I can't leave the house alone."
+
+Captain Obed uttered a dismayed protest.
+
+"Sho!" he exclaimed.  "Sho!  That's too bad.  Why, I counted more
+on your goin' than--Humph!  You've just got to go, that's all.
+Can't Imogene look after the house?"
+
+"She could if she was goin' to be here, but she's goin' to the Fair
+herself.  I promised her she could and I must keep my promise."
+
+"Yes, yes; I presume likely you must.  But now, Mrs. Thankful--"
+
+"I'm afraid there can't be any 'but,' Cap'n.  You and Mr. Kendrick
+and Emily go and I'll get my fun thinkin' what a good time you'll
+have."
+
+She was firm and at last the captain yielded.  But his keen
+disappointment was plainly evident.  He said but little during his
+stay at the boarding-house and went home early, glum and
+disconsolate.  At the Parker domicile he found Kenelm and his
+sister in a heated argument.
+
+"I don't care, Hannah," vowed Kenelm.  "I'm a-goin' to that Fair,
+no matter if I do have to go alone.  Didn't you tell me I was
+goin'?  Didn't you put me up to askin' for the day off?  Didn't
+you--"
+
+"Never mind what I did.  I give in I had planned for you to go, but
+that was when I figgered on you and me goin' together.  Now that
+Mr. Hammond has invited me to go along with him--"
+
+Captain Obed interrupted.  "Hello!  Hello!" he exclaimed.  "What's
+this?  Has Caleb Hammond offered to go gallivantin' off to the
+Ostable Cattle Show along with you, Hannah?  Well, well!
+Wonders'll never cease.  Caleb's gettin' gay in his old age, ain't
+he?  Humph! there'll be somethin' else for the postoffice gang to
+talk about, first thing you know.  Hannah, I'm surprised!"
+
+Miss Parker colored and seemed embarrassed.  Her brother, however,
+voiced his disgust.
+
+"Surprised!" he repeated.  "Huh!  That's nuthin' to what I am.  I'm
+more'n surprised--I'm paralyzed.  To think of that tightfisted old
+fool lettin' go of money enough to hire a horse and team and--"
+
+"Kenelm!"  Hannah's voice quivered with indignation.  "Kenelm
+Parker!  The idea!"
+
+"Yes, that's what I say, the idea!  Here's an old critter--yes, he
+is old, too.  He's so nigh seventy he don't dast look at the
+almanac for fear he'll find it's past his birthday.  And he's
+always been so tight with money that he'd buy second-hand postage
+stamps if the Gov'ment wouldn't catch him.  And his wife's been
+dead a couple of hundred year, more or less, and yet, by thunder-
+mighty, all to once he starts in--"
+
+"Kenelm Parker, you stop this minute!  I'm ashamed of you.  Mr.
+Hammond's a real, nice, respectable man.  As to his money--well,
+that's his business anyhow, and, besides, he ain't hirin' the horse
+and buggy; he's goin' to borrow it off his nephew over to the
+Centre.  His askin' me to go is a real neighborly act."
+
+"Huh!  If he's so plaguy neighborly why don't he ask me to go, too?
+I'm as nigh a neighbor as you be, ain't I?"
+
+"He don't ask you because the buggy won't hold but two, and you
+know it.  I should think you'd be glad to have me save the expense
+of my fare.  Winnie S. would charge me fifty cents to take me to
+the depot, and the fare on the excursion train is--"
+
+"Now what kind of talk's that!  I ain't complainin' 'cause you save
+the expense.  And I don't care if you go along with all the old men
+from here to Joppa.  What I'm sayin' is that I'm goin' to that Fair
+tomorrow.  I can go alone in the cars, I guess.  There won't nobody
+kidnap me, as I know of."
+
+"But, Kenelm, I don't like to have you over there all by yourself.
+It'll be so lonesome for you.  If you'll only wait maybe I'll go
+again, myself.  Maybe we could both go together on Saturday."
+
+"I don't want to go Saturday; I want to go tomorrow.  Tomorrow's
+the big day, when they have the best horse-racin'.  Why, Darius
+Holt is cal'latin' to make money tomorrow.  He's got ten dollars
+bet on Exie B. in the second race and--"
+
+"Kenelm Parker!  Is THAT what you want to go to that Cattle Show
+for?  To bet on horse trots!  To gamble!"
+
+"Aw, dry up.  How'd I gamble?  You don't let me have money enough
+to put in the collection box Sundays, let alone gamblin'.  I have
+to shove my fist clear way down to the bottom of the plate whenever
+they pass it for fear Heman Daniels'll see that I'm only lettin' go
+of a nickel.  Aw, Hannah, have some sense, won't you!  I'd just as
+soon go to that Fair alone as not.  I won't be lonesome.  Lots of
+folks I know are goin'; men and women, too."
+
+"Women?  What women?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know.  How should I know?"
+
+"Well--well, I suppose likely they are.  Imogene said she was goin'
+and--"
+
+"Imogene!  You mean that hired inmate over to Thankful Barnes'?
+Humph!  So she told you she was goin', hey?  Well, most likely she
+told a fib.  I wouldn't trust her not to; sassy, impudent thing!  I
+don't believe she's goin' at all.  Is she, Cap'n Bangs?"
+
+The captain, who had remained silent during this family jar, could
+not resist the temptation.
+
+"Oh yes, Imogene's goin'," he answered, cheerfully.  "She's
+countin' on havin' the time of her life over there.  But she isn't
+the only one.  Why, about all the females in East Wellmouth'll be
+there.  I heard Abbie Larkin arrangin' for her passage with Winnie
+S. yesterday afternoon.  Win said, 'Judas priest!'  He didn't know
+where he was goin' to put her, but he cal'lated he'd have to find
+stowage room somewhere.  Oh, Kenelm won't be lonesome, Hannah.  I
+shouldn't worry about that."
+
+Kenelm looked as if he wished the speaker might choke.  Hannah
+straightened in her chair.
+
+"Hum!" she mused.  "Hum!" and was silent for a moment.  Then she
+asked:
+
+"Is Mrs. Thankful goin', too?  I suppose likely she is."
+
+The captain's cheerfulness vanished.
+
+"No," he said, shortly, "she isn't.  She wanted to, but she doesn't
+feel she can leave the boardin'-house with nobody to look after it."
+
+Miss Parker seemed pleased, for some reason or other.
+
+"I don't wonder," she said, heartily.  "She shouldn't be left all
+alone herself, either.  If that ungrateful, selfish Orphan's Home
+minx is selfish enough to go and leave her, all the more reason my
+brother shouldn't.  Whatever else us Parkers may be, we ain't
+selfish.  We think about others.  Kenelm, dear, you must stay at
+work and help Mrs. Barnes around the house tomorrow.  You and I'll
+go to the Fair on Saturday.  I don't mind; I'd just as soon go
+twice as not."
+
+Kenelm sprang to his feet.  He was so angry that he stuttered.
+
+"You--you--YOU don't care!" he shouted.  "'Cause you're goin'
+TWICE!  That's a divil of a don't care, that is!"
+
+"Kenelm!  My own brother!  Cursin' and swearin'!"
+
+"I ain't, and--and I don't care if I be!  What's the matter with
+you, Hannah Parker?  One minute you're sailin' into me tellin' me
+to heave up my job and not demean myself doin' odd jobs in a
+boardin'-house barn.  And the next minute you're tellin' me I ought
+to stay to home and--and help out that very boardin'-house.  I
+won't!  By--by thunder-mighty, I won't!  I'm goin' to that Cattle
+Show tomorrow if it takes my last cent."
+
+Hannah smiled.  "How many last cents have you got, Kenelm?" she
+asked.  "You was doin' your best to borrer a quarter of me this
+mornin'."
+
+"I've got more'n you have.  I--I--everything there is here--yes,
+and every cent there is here--belongs to me by rights.  You ain't
+got nothin' of your own."
+
+Miss Parker turned upon him.  "To think," she wailed, brokenly, "to
+think that my own brother--all the brother I've got--can stand
+afore me and heave my--my poverty in my face.  I may be dependent
+on him.  I am, I suppose.  But Oh, the disgrace of it! the--Oh! Oh!
+Oh!"
+
+Captain Obed hurried upstairs to his room.  Long after he had shut
+the door he heard the sounds of Hannah's sobs and Kenelm's
+pleadings that he "never meant nothin'."  Then came silence and, at
+last, the sounds of footsteps on the stairs.  They halted in the
+upper hall.
+
+"I don't know, Kenelm," said Hannah, sadly.  "I'll try to forgive
+you.  I presume likely I must.  But when I think of how I've been a
+mother to you--"
+
+"Now, Hannah, there you go again.  How could you be my mother when
+you ain't but four year older'n I be?  You just give me a few
+dollars and let me go to that Cattle Show and--"
+
+"No, Kenelm, that I can't do.  You are goin' to leave Mrs. Barnes'
+place; I want you to do that, for the sake of your self-respect.
+But you must stay there and help her tomorrow.  It's your duty."
+
+"Darn my duty!  I'll LEAVE tomorrow, that's what I'll do."
+
+"Oh dear!  There you go again.  Profane language and bettin' on
+horses!  WHAT'LL come next?  My own brother a gambler and a
+prodigate!  Has it come to this?"
+
+The footsteps and voices died away.  Captain Obed blew out the
+light and got into bed.  The last words he heard that night were
+uttered by the "prodigate" himself on his way to his sleeping
+quarters.  And they were spoken as a soliloquy.
+
+"By time!" muttered Kenelm, as he shuffled slowly past the
+Captain's door.  "By time!  I--I'll do somethin' desperate!"
+
+Next morning, when Captain Obed's hired motor car, with its owner,
+a Wellmouth Centre man, acting as chauffeur, rolled into the yard
+of the High Cliff House, a party of three came out to meet it.
+John Kendrick and Emily Howes were of the party and they were
+wrapped and ready for the trip.  The captain had expected them; but
+the third, also dressed for the journey, was Mrs. Thankful Barnes.
+Thankful's plump countenance was radiant.
+
+"I'm goin' after all," she announced.  "I'm goin' to the Fair with
+you, Cap'n Bangs.  Now what do you think of that? . . .  That is,"
+she added, looking at the automobile, "if you can find a place to
+put me."
+
+The captain's joy was as great as his surprise.  "Place to put
+you!" he repeated.  "If I couldn't do anything else I'd hang on
+behind, like a youngster to a truck wagon, afore you stayed at
+home.  Good for you, Mrs. Thankful!  But how'd you come to change
+your mind?  Thought you couldn't leave."
+
+Thankful smiled happily.  "I didn't change my mind, Cap'n," she
+said.  "Imogene changed hers.  She's a real, good sacrificin' body,
+the girl is.  When she found I'd been asked and wouldn't go, she
+put her foot down flat.  Nothin' would do but she should stay at
+home today and I should go.  I knew what a disappointment 'twas to
+her, but she just made me do it.  She'll go tomorrow instead;
+that's the way we fixed it finally.  I'm awful glad for myself, but
+I do feel mean about Imogene, just the same."
+
+A few minutes later, the auto, with John, Emily and Thankful on the
+rear seat and Captain Obed in front with the driver, rolled out of
+the yard and along the sandy road toward Wellmouth Centre.  About a
+mile from the latter village it passed a buggy with two people in
+it.  The pair in the buggy were Caleb Hammond and Hannah Parker.
+
+Captain Obed chuckled.  "There go the sweethearts," he observed.
+"Handsome young couple, ain't they?"
+
+The other occupants of the car joined in the laugh.  Emily, in
+particular, was greatly amused.
+
+"Why do you call them sweethearts, Captain?" she asked.  "You don't
+really suppose--"
+
+The captain burst into a laugh.
+
+"What?  Those two?" he said.  "No, no, I was only jokin'.  I don't
+know about Hannah--single women her age are kind of chancey--but I
+do know Caleb.  He ain't takin' a wife to support, not unless she
+can support him.  He had a chance to use a horse and buggy free for
+nothin', that's all; and it would be against his principles to let
+a chance like that go by.  Cal'late he took Hannah 'cause he knew
+ice cream and peanuts don't agree with her dyspepsy and so he
+wouldn't have to buy any.  Ho, ho!  I wonder how Kenelm made out?
+Wonder if he went on his own hook, after all?"
+
+In the kitchen of the High Cliff House Imogene was washing the
+breakfast dishes and trying to forget her disappointment.  A step
+sounded in the woodshed and, turning, she beheld Mr. Parker.  He
+saw her at the same time and the surprise was mutual.
+
+"Why, hello!" exclaimed Imogene.  "I thought you'd gone to the
+Fair."
+
+"Hello!" cried Kenelm.  "Thought you'd gone to the Cattle Show."
+
+Explanations followed.  "What ARE you cal'latin' to do, then?"
+demanded Kenelm, moodily.
+
+"Me?  Stay here on my job, of course.  That's what you're goin' to
+do, too, ain't it?"
+
+Mr. Parker thrust his hands into his pockets.
+
+"No, by time, I ain't!" he declared, fiercely.  "I ain't got any
+job no more.  I've quit, I have."
+
+"Quit!  You mean you ain't goin' to work for Mrs. Thankful?"
+
+"I ain't gain' to work for nobody.  Why should I?  I've got money
+enough to live on, ain't I?  I've got an income of my own.  I ain't
+told Mrs. Thankful yet, but I have quit, just the same."
+
+Imogene put down the dishcloth.
+
+"This is your sister's doin's, I guess likely," she observed.
+
+"No, it ain't!  If--if it was, by time, I wouldn't do it!  Hannah
+treats me like a dog--yes, sir, like a dog.  I'm goin' to show her.
+A man's got some feelin's, if he is a dog."
+
+"How are you goin' to show her?"
+
+"I don't know, but I be.  I'll run away, if I can't do nothin'
+else.  I'll show her I'm sick of her bossin'."
+
+Imogene seemed to be thinking.  She regarded Mr. Parker with a
+steady and reflective stare.
+
+"What are you lookin' at me like that for?" demanded Kenelm, after
+the stare had become unbearable.
+
+"I was thinkin'.  Humph!  What would you do to fix it so's your
+sister would stop her bossin' and you could have your own way once
+in a while?"
+
+"Do?  By time, I'd do anything!  Anything, by thunder-mighty!"
+
+"You would?  You mean it?"
+
+"You bet I mean it!"
+
+"Would you promise to stay right here and work for Mrs. Thankful as
+long as she wanted you to?"
+
+"Course I would.  I ain't anxious to leave.  It's Hannah that's got
+that notion.  Fust she was dead sot on my workin' here and now
+she's just as sot on my leavin'."
+
+"Do you know why she's so--what do you call it?--sot?"
+
+Kenelm fidgeted and looked foolish.  "Well," he admitted, "I--I
+wouldn't wonder if 'twas account of you, Imogene.  Hannah knows I--
+I like you fust rate, that we're good friends, I mean.  She's--
+well, consarn it all!--she's jealous, that's what's the matter.
+She's awful silly that way.  I can't so much as look at a woman,
+but she acts like a plumb idiot.  Take that Abbie Larkin, for
+instance.  One time she--ho, ho!  I did kind of get ahead of her
+then, though."
+
+Imogene nodded.  "Yes," she said; "I heard about that.  Well, maybe
+you can get ahead of her again.  You wait a minute."
+
+She went into the living-room.  When she came back she had an ink-
+bottle, a pen and a sheet of note-paper in her hands.
+
+"What's them things for?" demanded Mr. Kenelm.
+
+"I'll tell you pretty soon.  Kenelm, you--you asked me somethin' a
+while ago, didn't you?"
+
+Kenelm started.  "Why--why, Imogene," he stammered, "I--I don't
+know's I know what you mean."
+
+"I guess you know, all right.  You did ask me--or, anyhow, you
+would if I hadn't said no before you had the chance.  You like me
+pretty well, don't you, Kenelm?"
+
+This pointed question seemed to embarrass Mr. Parker greatly.  He
+turned red and glanced at the door.
+
+"Why--why, yes, I like you fust rate, Imogene," he admitted.  "I--I
+don't know's I ever see anybody I liked better.  But when it comes
+to--  You see, that time when I said--er--er what I said I was kind
+of--of desperate along of Hannah and--"
+
+"Well, you're desperate now, ain't you?  Here," sharply, "you sit
+still and let me finish.  I've got a plan and you'd better listen
+to it.  Kenelm, won't you sit still, for--for my sake?"
+
+
+The "big day" of the Ostable County Cattle Show and Fair came to an
+end as all days, big or little, have to come.  Captain Obed Bangs
+and his guests enjoyed every minute of it.  They inspected the
+various exhibits, witnessed the horse races and the baseball game,
+saw the balloon ascension, and thrilled with the rest of the great
+crowd at the "parachute drop."  It was six o'clock when they left
+the Fair grounds and Thankful began to worry about the condition of
+affairs at the High Cliff House.
+
+"It'll be way past dinner time when you and I get there, Emily,"
+she said, "and goodness knows what my boarders have had to eat.
+Imogene's smart and capable enough, but whether she can handle
+everything alone I don't know.  We ought to have started sooner,
+but it's nobody's fault more'n mine that we didn't."
+
+However, when the High Cliff House was reached its proprietor found
+that her fears were groundless.  But a few of the boarders had
+planned to eat their evening meal there; most of the city
+contingent were stopping at various teahouses and restaurants in
+Ostable or along the road and would not be home until late.
+
+"Everything's fine, ma'am," declared Imogene.  "There was only
+three or four here for supper and I fixed them all right.  Mr.
+Hammond came in late, but I fed him up and he's gone to bed.  Tired
+out, I guess.  I asked him if he had a good time and he said he
+had, but it cost him a sight of money."
+
+Captain Obed laughed.  "Caleb will have to do without his mornin'
+newspapers for quite a spell to make up for today's extravagance,"
+he declared.  "That's what 'tis to take the girls around.  Better
+take warnin', John."
+
+John Kendrick smiled.  "Considering," he said, "that you and I have
+almost come to blows before I was permitted to even buy a package
+of popcorn with my own money, I think you need the warning more
+than I, Cap'n Bangs."
+
+"Imogene," said Thankful, "you've been a real, nice girl today;
+you've helped me out a lot and I shan't forget it.  Now you go to
+bed and rest, so's to feel like gettin' an early start for the Fair
+tomorrow."
+
+Imogene shook her head.  "I can't go right now, thank you, ma'am,"
+she said.  "I've got company."
+
+Emily and Thankful looked at each other.
+
+"Company!" repeated the former.  "What company?"
+
+Before Imogene could answer the dining-room door was flung open and
+Hannah Parker rushed in.  She was still arrayed in her Sunday gown,
+which she had donned in honor of Fair Day, but her Sunday bonnet
+was, as Captain Obed said afterward, "canted down to leeward" and
+her general appearance indicated alarm and apprehension.
+
+"Why, Hannah!" exclaimed Thankful.  "Why, Miss Parker, what's the
+matter?"
+
+Hannah's glance swept the group before her; then it fastened upon
+Imogene.
+
+"Where's my brother?" she demanded.  "Have you seen my brother?"
+
+Captain Bangs broke in.
+
+"Your brother?  Kenelm?" he asked.  "Why, what about Kenelm?  Ain't
+he to home?"
+
+"No.  No, he ain't.  And he ain't been home, either.  I left a cold
+supper for him on the table, and I put the teapot on the rack of
+the stove ready for him to bile.  But he ain't been there.  It
+ain't been touched.  I--I can't think what--"
+
+Imogene interrupted.  "Your brother's all right, Miss Parker," she
+said, calmly.  "He's been havin' supper with me out in the kitchen.
+He's there now.  He's the company I said I had, Mrs. Thankful."
+
+Hannah stared at her.  Imogene returned the gaze coolly, blandly
+and with a serene air of confident triumph.
+
+"Perhaps you'd better come out and see him, ma'am," she went on.
+"He--we, that is--have got somethin' to tell you.  The rest can
+come, too, if they want to," she added.  "It's nothin' we want to
+keep from you."
+
+Hannah Parker pushed by her and rushed for the kitchen.  Imogene
+followed her and the others followed Imogene.  As Thankful said,
+describing her own feelings, "I couldn't have stayed behind if I
+wanted to.  My feet had curiosity enough to go by themselves."
+
+Kenelm, who had been sitting by the kitchen table before a well-
+filled plate, had heard his sister's approach and had risen.  When
+Mrs. Barnes and the others reached the kitchen he had backed into a
+corner.
+
+"Kenelm Parker," demanded Hannah, "what are you doin' here, this
+time of night?"
+
+"I--I been eatin' supper," stammered Kenelm, "but I--I'm through
+now."
+
+"Through!  Didn't you know your supper was waitin' for you at home?
+Didn't I tell you to come home early and have MY supper ready?
+Didn't--"
+
+Imogene interrupted.  "I guess you did, ma'am," she said, "but you
+see I asked him to stay here, so he stayed."
+
+"YOU asked him!  And he stayed!  Well, I must say!  Kenelm, have
+you been eatin' supper alone with that--with that--"
+
+She was too greatly agitated to finish, but as Kenelm did not
+answer, Imogene did, without waiting.
+
+"Yes'm," she said, soothingly.  "It's all right.  Kenelm and me can
+eat together, if we want to, I guess.  We're engaged."
+
+"ENGAGED!"  Almost everyone said it--everyone except Hannah; she
+could not say anything.
+
+"Yes," replied Imogene.  "We're engaged to be married.  We are,
+aren't we, Kenelm?"
+
+Kenelm tried to back away still further, but the wall was behind
+him and he could only back against it.  He was pale and he
+swallowed several times.
+
+"Kenelm, dear," said Imogene, "didn't you hear me?  Tell your
+sister about our bein' engaged."
+
+Kenelm's mouth opened and shut.  "Eh--eh--" he stammered.  "I--I--"
+
+"Don't be bashful," urged Imogene.  "We're engaged to be married,
+ain't we?"
+
+Mr. Parker gulped, choked and then nodded.  "Yes," he admitted,
+faintly.  "I--I cal'late we be."
+
+His sister took a step forward, her arm raised.  Captain Obed
+stepped in front of her.
+
+"Just a minute, Hannah!  Heave to!  Come up into the wind a jiffy.
+Let's get this thing straight.  Kenelm, do you mean--"
+
+The gentleman addressed seemed to mean very little, just then.  But
+Imogene's coolness was quite unruffled and again she answered for
+him.
+
+"He means just what he said," she declared, "and what he said was
+plain enough, I should think.  I don't know why there should be so
+much row about it.  Mr. Parker and I have been good friends ever
+since I come here to work.  He's asked me to marry him some time or
+other and I said maybe I would.  That makes us engaged, same's I've
+been tryin' to tell you.  And what all this row is about I can't
+see.  It's our business, ain't it?  I can't see as it's anybody
+else's."
+
+But Hannah was by this time beyond holding back.  She pushed aside
+the captain's arm and faced the engaged couple.  Her eyes flashed
+and her fingers twitched.
+
+"You--you designin' critter you!" she shouted, addressing Imogene.
+"You plannin', schemin', underhanded--"
+
+"Shh! shh!" put in Captain Obed.  "Easy, Hannah! easy, there!"
+
+"I shan't be easy!  You mind your own affairs, Obed Bangs!  Kenelm
+Parker, how dare you say--how dare you tell me you're goin' to
+marry this--this INMATE?  What do you mean by it?"
+
+Poor Kenelm only gurgled.  His lady love once more came to his
+rescue.
+
+"He's told you times enough what he means," she asserted, firmly.
+"And I'll thank you not to call me names, either.  In the first
+place I won't stand it; and, in the second, if you and me are goin'
+to be sisters-in-law, we'd better learn how to get along peaceable
+together.  I--"
+
+"Don't you talk to me!  Don't you DARE talk to me!  I might have
+expected it!  I did expect it.  So this is why you two didn't go to
+the Fair?  You had this all planned between you.  I was to be got
+out of the way, and--"
+
+"That's enough of that, too.  There wasn't any plannin' about it--
+not until today, anyhow.  I didn't know he wasn't goin' to the Fair
+and he didn't know I wasn't.  He would have gone only--only you
+deserted him to go off with your own--your own gentleman friend.
+Humph!  I should think you would look ashamed!"
+
+Miss Parker's "shame"--or her feelings, whatever they might be--
+seemed to render her speechless.  Her brother saw his chance.
+
+"You know that's just what you done, Hannah," he put in, pleadingly.
+"You know you did.  I was so lonesome--"
+
+"Hush!  Hush, Kenelm!" ordered Imogene.  "You left him alone to go
+with another man, Miss Parker.  For all he knew you might be--be
+runnin' off to be married, or somethin'.  So he come to where he
+had a friend, that's all.  And what if he did?  He can get married,
+if he wants to, can't he?  I'd like to know who'd stop him.  He's
+over twenty-one, I guess."
+
+This speech was too much for Emily; she laughed aloud.  That laugh
+was the final straw.  Hannah made a dive for her brother.
+
+"You come home with me," she commanded.  "You come right straight
+home with me this minute.  As for you," she added, turning to
+Imogene, "I shan't waste any more words on a--on a thing like you.
+After my brother's money, be you?  Thought you'd get him and it,
+too, did you?  Well, you shan't!  He'll come right along home with
+me and there he'll stay.  He's worked in this place as long as he's
+goin' to, Miss Inmate.  I'll take him out of YOUR clutches."
+
+"Oh no, you won't!  Him and me are goin' to the Fair tomorrow and
+on Monday he's comin' back to work here same as ever.  You are,
+ain't you, Kenelm?"
+
+Kenelm gulped and fidgeted.  "I--I--I--" he stuttered.
+
+"You see, Hannah," continued Imogene--"I suppose I might as well
+begin to call you 'Hannah,' seein' as we're goin' to be relations
+pretty soon--you see, he's engaged to me now and he'll do what I
+ask him to, of course."
+
+"Engaged!  He ain't engaged!  I'll fix the 'engagement.'  That'll
+be broke off this very minute."
+
+And now Imogene played her best trump.  She took from her waist a
+slip of paper and handed it to Captain Obed.
+
+"Just read that out loud, won't you, please, Cap'n Bangs?" she
+asked.
+
+The captain stared at the slip of paper.  Then, in a choked voice,
+he read aloud the following:
+
+
+I, Kenelm Issachar Parker, being in sound mind and knowing what I
+am doing, ask Imogene to be my wife and I agree to marry her any
+time she wants me to.
+
+(Signed) KENELM ISSACHAR PARKER.
+
+
+"There!" exclaimed Imogene.  "I guess that settles it, don't it?
+I've got witnesses, anyhow, and right here, to our engagement.  You
+all heard us both say we was engaged.  But that paper settles it.
+Kenelm and I knew mighty well that you'd try to break off the
+engagement and say there wasn't any; but you can't break THAT."
+
+"I can't?  I like to know why I can't!  What do you suppose I care
+for such a--a--"
+
+"Well, if you don't, then the law does.  If you make your brother
+break his engagement to me, Hannah Parker, I'll take that piece of
+paper right to a lawyer and make him sue Kenelm for--for breach of
+promises.  You know what that means, I guess, if you've read the
+papers same as I have.  I rather guess that paper would give me a
+good many dollars damage.  If you don't believe it you try and see.
+And there's two lawyers livin' right in this house," she added
+triumphantly.
+
+If she expected a sensation her expectations were realized.  Hannah
+was again stricken dumb.  Captain Bangs and Emily and John Kendrick
+looked at each other, then the captain doubled up with laughter.
+Mrs. Barnes and Kenelm, however, did not laugh.  The latter seemed
+tremendously surprised.
+
+"Why--why, Imogene," he protested, "how you talk!  I never thought--"
+
+"Kenelm, be still."
+
+"But, Imogene," begged Thankful, "you mustn't say such things.  I
+never--"
+
+"Now, ma'am, please don't you butt in.  I know what I'm doin'.
+Please don't talk to me now.  There, Kenelm," turning to the
+trembling nominee for matrimonial offices, "that'll do for tonight.
+You go along with your sister and be on hand ready to take me to
+the Cattle Show tomorrow.  Good night--er--dear."
+
+Whether it was the "dear" that goaded Miss Parker into one more
+assault, or whether she was not yet ready to surrender, is
+uncertain.  But, at all events, she fired a last broadside.
+
+"He SHAN'T go with you tomorrow," she shrieked.  "He shan't; I
+won't let him."
+
+Imogene nodded.  "All right," she said, firmly.  "Then if he don't
+I'll come around tomorrow and tell him I'm ready to be married
+right away.  And if he says no to THAT--then--well then, I'll go
+straight to the lawyer with that paper."
+
+Ten minutes later, when the Parkers had gone and the sound of
+Hannah's tirade and Kenelm's protestations had died away on the
+path toward their home, Thankful, John and Captain Obed sat gazing
+at each other in the living room.  Imogene and Emily were together
+in the kitchen.  The "engaged" young lady had expressed a desire to
+speak with Miss Howes alone.
+
+John and the captain were still chuckling, but Thankful refused to
+see the joke; she was almost in tears.
+
+"It's dreadful!" she declared.  "Perfectly awful!  And Imogene!  To
+act and speak so to our next-door neighbor!  What WILL come of it?
+And how COULD she?  How could she get engaged to THAT man, of all
+men?  He's old enough to be her father and--and she CAN'T care for
+him."
+
+Emily entered the room.  She was apparently much agitated and her
+eyes were moist.  She collapsed in a rocking-chair and put her
+handkerchief to her face.
+
+"Land sakes!" cried Captain Obed.  "Is it as bad as that?  Does it
+make you cry?"
+
+Emily removed the handkerchief.  "I'm not crying," she gasped.
+"I--I--  Oh dear!  This is the funniest thing that girl has done
+yet."
+
+"But what is it?" asked John.  "What's the answer?  We're dying to
+know."
+
+Emily shook her head.  "I can't tell you," she said.  "I promised I
+wouldn't.  It--it all came of a talk Imogene and I had a while ago.
+We were speaking of self-sacrifice and she--she adores you, Auntie,
+and--"
+
+Thankful interrupted.  "Mercy on us!" she cried.  "Adores me!
+Self-sacrifice!  She ain't doin' this crazy, loony thing for ME, I
+hope.  She ain't marryin' that Parker man because--"
+
+"She hasn't married anyone yet.  Oh, it is all right, Auntie; she
+knows what she is doing, or she thinks she does.  And, at any rate,
+I think there is no danger of Mr. Parker's giving up his situation
+here until you are ready to have him do it.  There!  I mustn't say
+another word.  I have said too much already."
+
+Captain Obed rose to his feet.
+
+"Well," he said, "it's too thick off the bows for me to see more'n
+a foot; I give in to that.  But I will say this: If that Imogene
+girl don't know what she's up to it's the fust time since I've been
+acquainted with her.  And she sartin has spiked Hannah's guns.
+Either Hannah's got to say 'dum' when Imogene says 'dee' or she
+stands a chance to lose her brother or his money, one or t'other,
+and she'd rather lose the fust than the last, I'll bet you.
+Ho, ho!  Yes, it does look as if Imogene had Hannah in a clove
+hitch. . . .  Well, I'm goin' over to see what the next doin's in
+the circus is liable to be.  I wouldn't miss any of THIS show for
+no money.  Good night."
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+The next morning Kenelm, arrayed in his best, was early on hand to
+escort the lady of his choice to the Fair.  The lady, herself, was
+ready and the pair drove away in Winnie S.'s depot-wagon bound for
+Wellmouth Centre and the train.  Before she left the house Imogene
+made an earnest request.
+
+"If you don't mind, ma'am," she said, addressing Mrs. Barnes, "I
+wish you wouldn't say nothin' to nobody about Mr. Kenelm and me
+bein' engaged.  And just ask the rest of 'em that heard the--the
+rough-house last night not to say anything, either, please."
+
+"Why, Imogene," said Thankful, "I didn't know you wanted it to be a
+secret.  Seems to me you said yourself that it wasn't any secret."
+
+"Yes'm, I know I did.  Well, I suppose 'tain't, in one way.  But
+there ain't any use in advertisin' it, neither.  Kenelm, he's
+promised to keep still."
+
+"But, Imogene, why?  Seems to me if I was willin' to be engaged to
+that--to Kenelm, I wouldn't be ashamed to have folks know it."
+
+"Oh, I ain't ashamed exactly.  I ain't ashamed of what I done, not
+a bit.  Only what's the use of tellin'?"
+
+"But you'll have to tell some time; when you're married, sartin."
+
+"Yes'm.  Well, we ain't married--yet."
+
+"But you're goin' to be, I should presume likely."
+
+"Maybe so; but not for a good while, anyhow.  If I am it won't make
+any difference far's you and me are concerned, ma'am.  Nor Mr.
+Parker, either; he'll stay here and work long's you want him,
+married or not.  And so'll I."
+
+"Well, I suppose that's one comfort, anyhow.  I won't say anything
+about your engagement and I'll ask the others not to.  But folks
+are bound to talk, Imogene.  Miss Parker now--how are you goin' to
+stop her tellin'?"
+
+Imogene nodded knowingly.  "I shan't have to, I'll bet you, ma'am,"
+she said.  "She ain't so anxious to have it talked about--not
+s'long as there's a chance to break it off, she ain't.  She'll keep
+still."
+
+"Maybe so, but folks'll suspect, I guess.  They'll think somethin's
+queer when you and Kenelm go to the Cattle Show together today."
+
+"No, they won't.  Why should they?  Didn't Hannah Parker herself go
+yesterday with Mr. Hammond?  And didn't Mr. Kendrick go with Miss
+Emily?  Yes, and you with Cap'n Bangs?  Lordy, ma'am, I--"
+
+"Don't say 'Lordy,' Imogene," cautioned Thankful, and hastened
+away.  Imogene looked after her and laughed to herself.
+
+When Captain Obed made his morning call Mrs. Barnes told him of
+this conversation.
+
+"And how is Hannah this mornin'?" asked Thankful.  "I was surprised
+enough to see Kenelm in that depot-wagon.  I never thought for a
+minute she'd let him go."
+
+The captain chuckled.  "Let him!" he repeated.  "Why, Hannah helped
+him get ready; picked out his necktie for him and loaded him up
+with clean handkerchiefs and land knows what.  She all but give him
+her blessin' afore he started; she did say she hoped he'd have a
+good time."
+
+"She did!  Mercy on us!  Is the world comin' to an end?  Last night
+she was--"
+
+"Yes, I know.  Well, we've got to give Hannah credit; she's got a
+head on her shoulders, even if the head does run pretty strong to
+mouth.  Imogene's took her measure, judgin' by what you said the
+girl said to you.  Hannah's thought it over, I cal'late, and she
+figgers that while there's life there's hope, as you might say.
+Her brother may be engaged, but he ain't married, and, s'long's he
+ain't, she's got a chance.  You just see, Mrs. Thankful--you see if
+Hannah ain't sweeter to Kenelm from this on than a molasses jug
+stopper to a young one.  She'll lay herself out to make his home
+the softest spot in creation, so he'll think twice before leavin'
+it.  That's her game, as I see it, and she'll play it.  Give Hannah
+credit; she won't abandon the ship while there's a plank above
+water.  Just watch and see."
+
+Thankful looked doubtful.  "Well, maybe so," she said.  "Maybe she
+will be nice to her brother, but how about the rest of us?  She
+wouldn't speak to me last night, nor to Emily--and as for Imogene!"
+
+"Yes, I know.  But wait until she sees you, or Imogene either, next
+time.  She'll be smooth as a smelt.  I'll bet you anything she'll
+say that, after all, she guesses the engagement's a good thing and
+that Imogene's a nice girl.  There's a whole lot in keepin' the
+feller you're fightin' off his guard until you've got him in a
+corner with his hands down.  Last night Hannah give me my orders to
+mind my own business.  This mornin' she cooked me the best
+breakfast I've had since I shipped aboard her vessel.  And kept
+askin' me to have more.  No, Imogene's right; Hannah'll play the
+game, and she'll play it quiet.  As for tellin' anybody her
+brother's engaged, you needn't worry about that.  She'll be the
+last one to tell."
+
+This prophecy seemed likely to prove true.  The next time Thankful
+met Hannah the latter greeted her like a long-lost friend.  During
+a long conversation she mentioned the subject of her brother's
+engagement but once and then at the very end of the interview.
+
+"Oh, by the way, Mrs. Thankful," she said, "I do beg your pardon
+for carryin' on the way I did at your house t'other night.  The
+news was pitched out at me so sudden that I was blowed right off my
+feet, as you might say.  I acted real unlikely, I know; but, you
+see, Kenelm does mean so much to me that I couldn't bear to think
+of givin' him up to anybody else.  When I come to think it over I
+realized 'twa'n't no more'n I had ought to have expected.  I
+mustn't be selfish and I ain't goin' to be.  S'long's 'tain't that--
+that Jezebel of an Abbie Larkin I don't mind so much.  I couldn't
+stand havin' her in the family--THAT I couldn't stand.  Oh, and if
+you don't mind, Mrs. Thankful, just don't say nothin' about the
+engagin' yet awhile.  I shouldn't mind, of course, but Kenelm, he's
+set on keepin' it secret for a spell.  There!  I must run on.  I've
+got to go up to the store and get a can of that consecrated soup
+for supper.  Have you tried them soups?  They're awful cheap and
+handy.  You just pour in hot water and there's more'n enough for a
+meal.  Good-by."
+
+Imogene, when she returned from the Fair, announced that she had
+had a perfectly lovely time.
+
+"He ain't such bad company--Kenelm, I mean," she observed.  "He
+talks a lot, but you don't have to listen unless you want to; and
+he enjoys himself real well, considerin' how little practice he's
+had."
+
+"Did you meet anyone you knew?" asked Emily.
+
+"No'm.  We saw quite a lot of folks from East Wellmouth, but we saw
+'em first, so we didn't meet 'em.  One kind of funny thing
+happened: a man who was outside a snake tent, hollerin' for
+everybody to come in, saw us and he says to me: 'Girlie,' he says--
+he was a fresh guy like all them kind--'Girlie,' he says, 'ask your
+pa to take you in and see the Serpent King eat 'em alive.  Only ten
+cents, Pop,' he says to Kenelm.  'Don't miss the chance to give
+your little girl a treat.'  Kenelm was all frothed up at bein' took
+for my father, but I told him he needn't get mad--if I could stand
+it he could, I guessed."
+
+Kenelm reported for work as usual on Monday morning and he worked--
+actually worked all day.  For an accepted lover he appeared rather
+subdued and silent.  Captain Obed, who noticed his behavior,
+commented upon it.
+
+"Cal'late Kenelm's beginnin' to realize gettin' engaged don't mean
+all joy," he said, with a chuckle.  "He's just got two bosses
+instead of one, that's all.  He's scart to death of Hannah at home
+and when he's here Imogene orders him 'round the way a bucko mate
+used to order a roustabout.  I said Hannah was in a clove hitch,
+didn't I?  Well, she is, but Kenelm--well, Kenelm's like a young
+one runnin' 'tiddly' on thin ice--worse'n that, 'cause he can't
+stop on either side, got to keep runnin' between 'em and look out
+and not fall in."
+
+Labor Day, the day upon which the Cape summer season really ends,
+did not, to the High Cliff House, mean the general exodus which it
+means to most of the Cape hotels.  Some of Thankful's lodgers left,
+of course, but many stayed, and were planning to stay through
+September if the weather continued pleasant.  But on the Saturday
+following Labor Day it rained.  And the next day it rained harder,
+and on Monday began a series of cold, windy, gloomy days which
+threatened to last indefinitely.  One after the other the
+sojourners from the cities passed from grumbling at the weather to
+trunk-packing and leaving.  A few stayed on into the next week but
+when, at the end of that week, a storm set in which was more severe
+than those preceding it, even these optimists surrendered.  Before
+that third week was over the High Cliff House was practically
+deserted.  Except for Heman Daniels and John Kendrick and Miss
+Timpson and Caleb Hammond, Thankful and Emily and Imogene were
+alone in the big house.
+
+This upsetting of her plans and hopes worried Thankful not a
+little.  Emily, too, was troubled concerning her cousin's business
+outlook.  The High Cliff House had been a success during its first
+season, but it needed the expected September and early October
+income to make it a success financially.  The expense had been
+great, much greater than Thankful had expected or planned.  It is
+true that the boarders, almost without exception, had re-engaged
+rooms and board for the following summer, but summer was a long way
+off.  There was the winter to be lived through and if, as they had
+hoped, additions and enlargements to the establishment were to be
+made in the spring, more, a good deal more money, would be needed.
+
+"As I see it, Auntie," said Emily, when they discussed the
+situation, "you have splendid prospects here.  Your first season
+has been all or more than you dared hope for, and if we had had
+good weather--the sort of weather everyone says the Cape usually
+has in the fall months--you would have come out even or better.
+But, even then, to make this scheme a real money-maker, you would
+be obliged to have more sleeping-rooms made over, and a larger
+dining-room.  Now why don't you go and see this--what is he?--
+cousin of yours, Mr. Cobb, and tell him just how you stand?  Tell
+him of your prospects and your plans, and get him to advance you
+another thousand dollars--more, if you can get it.  Why don't you
+do that?"
+
+Thankful did not answer.  She had few secrets from Emily, whom she
+loved as dearly as a daughter, but one secret she had kept.  Just
+why she had kept this one she might not have been able to explain
+satisfactorily, even to herself.  She had written Emily of her
+visit to Solomon Cobb's "henhouse" and of the loan on mortgage
+which had resulted therefrom.  But she had neither written nor told
+all of the circumstances of that visit, especially of Mr. Cobb's
+attitude toward her and his reluctance to lend the money.  She said
+merely that he had lent it and Emily had evidently taken it for
+granted that the loan was made because of the relationship and
+kindly feeling between the two.  Thankful, even now, did not
+undeceive her.  She felt a certain shame in doing so; a shame in
+admitting that a relative of hers could be so mean and disobliging.
+
+"Why don't you go to Mr. Cobb again, Auntie?" repeated Emily.  "He
+will lend you more, I'm sure, if you explain all the circumstances.
+It would be a perfectly safe investment for him, and you would pay
+interest, of course."
+
+Mrs. Barnes shook her head.  "I don't think I'd better, Emily," she
+said.  "He's got one mortgage on this place already."
+
+"What of it?  That was only for fifteen hundred and you have
+improved the house and grounds ever so much since then.  I think
+he'll be glad to let you have another thousand.  The mortgage he
+has is to run for three years, you said, didn't you?"
+
+Again Thankful did not answer.  She had not said the mortgage was
+for a term of three years; Emily had presumed that it was and she
+had not undeceived her.  She hesitated, and Emily noticed her
+hesitation.
+
+"It is for three years, isn't it, Auntie?" she repeated.
+
+Mrs. Barnes tried to evade the question.
+
+"Why, not exactly, Emily," she replied.  "It ain't.  You see, he
+thought three years was a little mite too long, and so--and so we
+fixed up for a shorter time.  It's all right, though."
+
+"Is it?  You are sure?  Aunt Thankful, tell me truly: how long a
+term is that mortgage?"
+
+"Well, it's--it's only for a year, but--"
+
+"A year?  Why, then it will fall due next spring.  You can't pay
+that mortgage next spring, can you?"
+
+"I don't know's I can, but--but it'll be all right, anyhow.  He'll
+renew it, if I ask him to, I presume likely."
+
+"Of course he will.  He will have to.  Auntie, you must go and see
+him at once.  If you don't I shall."
+
+If there was one point on which Thankful was determined, it was
+that Emily should not meet Solomon Cobb.  The money-lender had
+visited the High Cliff premises but once during the summer and then
+Miss Howes was providentially absent.
+
+"No, no!" declared Mrs. Barnes, hastily.  "You shan't do any such
+thing.  The idea!  I guess I can 'tend to borrowin' money from my
+own relation without draggin' other folks into it.  I'll drive over
+and see him pretty soon."
+
+"You must go at once.  I shan't permit you to wait another week.
+It is almost time for me to go back to my schoolwork, and I shan't
+go until I am certain that mortgage is to be renewed and that your
+financial affairs are all right.  Do go, Auntie, please.  Arrange
+to have the mortgage renewed and try to get another loan.  Promise
+me you will go tomorrow."
+
+So Thankful was obliged to promise, and the following morning she
+drove George Washington over the long road, now wet and soggy from
+the rain, to Trumet.
+
+Mr. Solomon Cobb's "henhouse" looked quite as dingy and dirty as
+when she visited it before.  Solomon himself was just as shabby
+and he pulled at his whiskers with his accustomed energy.
+
+"Hello!" he said, peering over his spectacles.  "What do you
+want? . . .  Oh, it's you, is it?  What's the matter?"
+
+Thankful came forward.  "Matter?" she repeated.  "What in the
+world--what made you think anything was the matter?"
+
+Solomon stared at her fixedly.
+
+"What did you come here for?" he asked.
+
+"To see you.  That's worth comin' for, isn't it?"
+
+The joke was wasted, as all jokes seemed to be upon Mr. Cobb.  He
+did not smile.
+
+"What made you come to see me?" he asked, still staring.
+
+"What made me?"
+
+"Yes.  What made you?  Have you found--has anybody told you--er--
+anything?"
+
+"Anybody told me!  My soul and body!  That's what you said when I
+was here before.  Do you say it to everybody?  What on earth do you
+mean by it?  Who would tell me anything?  And what would they
+tell?"
+
+Solomon pulled his whiskers.  "Nothin', I guess," he said, after a
+moment.  "Only there's so much fool talk runnin' loose I didn't
+know but you might have heard I was--was dead, or somethin'.  I
+ain't."
+
+"I can see that, I hope.  And if you was I shouldn't be traipsin'
+ten miles just to look at your remains.  Time enough for that at
+the funeral.  Dead!  The idea!"
+
+"Um--well, all right; I ain't dead, yet.  Set down, won't ye?"
+
+Thankful sat down.  Mr. Cobb swung about in his own chair, so that
+his face was in the shadow.
+
+"Hear you've been doin' pretty well with that boardin'-house of
+yours," he observed.  "Hear it's been full up all summer."
+
+"Who told you so?"
+
+"Oh, I heard.  I hear about all that's goin' on, one way or
+another.  I was over there a fortni't ago."
+
+"You were?  Why didn't you stop in and see me?  You haven't been
+there but once since the place started."
+
+"Yes, I have.  I've been by a good many times.  Didn't stop,
+though.  Too many of them city dudes around to suit me.  Did you
+fetch your October interest money."
+
+"No, I didn't.  It ain't due till week after next.  When it is I'll
+send it, same as I have the rest."
+
+"All right, all right, I ain't askin' you for it.  What did you
+come for?"
+
+And then Thankful told him.  He listened without comment until she
+had finished, peering over his spectacles and keeping up the
+eternal "weeding."
+
+"There," concluded Mrs. Barnes, "that's what I came for.  Will you
+do it?"
+
+The answer was prompt enough this time.
+
+"No, I won't," said Solomon, with decision.
+
+Thankful was staggered.
+
+"You won't?" she repeated.  "You won't--"
+
+"I won't lend you no more money.  Why should I?"
+
+"You shouldn't, I suppose, if you don't want to.  But, the way I
+look at it, it would be a perfectly safe loan for you.  My
+prospects are fine; everybody says so."
+
+"Everybody says a whole lot of things.  If I'd put up money on what
+everybody said I'd be puttin' up at the poorhouse, myself.  But I
+ain't puttin' up there and I ain't puttin' up the money neither."
+
+"All right; keep it then--keep it and sleep on it, if you want to.
+I can get along without it, I guess; or, if I can't, I can borrow
+it of somebody else."
+
+"Humph!  You're pretty sassy, seems to me, for anybody that's
+askin' favors."
+
+"I'm not askin' favors.  I told you that when I first come to you.
+What I asked was just business and nothin' else."
+
+"Is that so?  As I understand it you're askin' to have a mortgage
+renewed.  That may be business, or it may be a favor, 'cordin' to
+how you look at it."
+
+Thankful fought down her temper.  The renewal of the mortgage was a
+vital matter to her.  If it was not renewed what should she do?
+What could she do?  All she had in the world and all her hopes for
+the future centered about her property in East Wellmouth.  If that
+were taken from her--
+
+"Well," she admitted, "perhaps it is a favor, then."
+
+"Perhaps 'tis.  Why should I renew that mortgage?  I don't cal'late
+to renew mortgages, as a general thing.  Did I say anything about
+renewin' it when I took it?  I don't remember that I did."
+
+"No, no--I guess you didn't.  But I hope you will.  If you don't--
+I--I--Solomon Cobb, that boardin'-house means everything to me.
+I've put all I've got in it.  It has got the best kind of a start
+and in another year--I--I--  Please, Oh PLEASE don't close me out."
+
+"Humph!"
+
+"Please don't.  You told me when I was here before what a lot you
+thought of my Uncle Abner.  You knew how much he thought of me.
+When you think of him and what he said--"
+
+Mr. Cobb interrupted.  "Said?" he repeated, sharply.  "What do you
+mean he said?  Eh?  What do YOU know he said?"
+
+"Why--why, he told you about me.  You said yourself he did.  How
+much he thought of me, and all."
+
+"Is that all you meant?"
+
+"Yes, of course.  What else is there to mean?  Solomon, you profess
+to be a Christian.  You knew my uncle.  He did lots of favors for
+you; I know he did.  Now--"
+
+"Sshh! shh!"  Mr. Cobb seemed strangely perturbed.  He waved his
+hand.  "Hush!" he repeated.  "What are you draggin' Cap'n Abner and
+Christianity and all that in for?  They ain't got nothin' to do
+with that mortgage.  Who said they had?"
+
+"Why, no one said it.  No one said anything; no one but me.  I
+don't know what you mean--"
+
+"Mean!  I don't mean nothin'.  There!  There!  Clear out and don't
+bother me no more today.  I'm--I ain't feelin' well.  Got a cold
+comin' on, I cal'late.  Clear off home and let me alone."
+
+"But I can't go until you tell me about that mortgage."
+
+"Yes, you can, too.  I can't tell you about nothin' just now.  I
+got to think, ain't I?  Maybe I'll renew that mortgage and maybe I
+won't.  I'll tell you when I make up my mind.  Time enough between
+now and spring.  I--  Ah, Ezry, how be you?  Come on in.  Glad to
+see you."
+
+The last portion of the foregoing was addressed to a man who had
+entered the office.  Mr. Cobb did look as if he was really glad to
+see him.
+
+Thankful rose.  "I'll go," she said, drearily.  "I suppose I might
+as well.  But I shan't sleep much until you make up that mind of
+yours.  And do make it up the right way, for my sake--and Uncle
+Abner's."
+
+Her relative waved both hands this time.
+
+"Shh!" he ordered, desperately.  "Don't say no more now; I don't
+want the whole creation to know my business and yours.  Go on home.
+I--I'll come over and see you by and by."
+
+So, because she saw there was no use remaining, Mrs. Barnes went.
+The drive home, through the dismal grayness of the cloudy
+afternoon, seemed longer and more trying than the trip over.  The
+dream of raising money for the spring additions and alterations was
+over; the High Cliff House must do its best as it was for another
+year at least.  As to the renewal of the mortgage, there was a
+faint hope.  Mr. Cobb's final remarks had inspired that hope.  He
+had been on the point of refusing to renew, Thankful was sure of
+that.  Then something was said which caused him to hesitate.  Mrs.
+Barnes looked out between the ears of jogging George Washington and
+spoke her thought aloud.
+
+"It's somethin' to do with Uncle Abner," she soliloquized.  "He
+don't like to have Uncle Abner mentioned.  Hum!  I wonder what the
+reason is.  I only wish I knew."
+
+To Emily, who was eagerly waiting to hear the result of her
+cousin's visit to Solomon Cobb, Thankful told but a portion of the
+truth.  She did say, however, that the additional loan appeared to
+be out of the question and she guessed they would have to get on
+without the needed alterations for another year.  Emily thought
+they should not.
+
+"If this place is to become really profitable, Auntie," she
+insisted, "those changes should be made.  I don't see why this Mr.
+Cobb won't lend you the money; but, if he won't, then I'm sure
+someone else will, if you ask.  Don't you know anyone here in East
+Wellmouth whom you might ask for a loan--on your prospects?"
+
+"No.  No, I don't."
+
+"Why, yes, you do.  There is Captain Bangs, for instance.  He is
+well to do, and I'm sure he is a good friend.  Why don't you ask
+him?"
+
+Thankful's answer was prompt and sharp.
+
+"Indeed I shan't," she declared.
+
+"Then I will.  I'll be glad to."
+
+"Emily Howes, if you say one word to Cap'n Obed about borrowin'
+money from him I'll--I'll never speak to you afterwards.  Go to
+Captain Obed.  The idea!"
+
+"But why not, Auntie?  He IS a friend, and--"
+
+"Of course he is; that's the very reason.  He is a friend and he'd
+probably lend it because he is, whether he knew he'd ever get it
+back or not.  No, when I borrow money it'll be of somebody that
+lends it as a business deal, not from friendship."
+
+"But, Auntie, you went to Mr. Cobb because he was your relative.
+You said that was the very reason why you went to him."
+
+"Um, yes.  Well, I may have GONE to him for that reason, but there
+ain't any relationship in that mortgage of his; don't you get the
+notion that there is."
+
+Emily's next question, naturally, concerned the renewal of that
+mortgage.  Mrs. Barnes said shortly that she guessed the renewal
+would be all right.
+
+"He's comin' over to settle it with me pretty soon," she added.
+"Now don't worry your head off any more about mortgages and loans,
+Emily.  You're goin' to leave me pretty soon; let's not spend our
+last days together frettin' about money.  That mortgage is all
+right.  Maybe the extra loan will be, too.  Maybe--why, maybe Mr.
+Kendrick would lend it, if I asked him."
+
+"Mr. Kendrick?  Why, Auntie, Mr. Kendrick has no money, or only a
+very little.  He is doing well--very well, considering how short a
+time he has practised his profession here, but I'm sure he has no
+money to lend.  Why, he tells me--"
+
+The expression of Mrs. Barnes' face must have conveyed a meaning;
+at any rate Emily's sentence broke off in the middle.  She colored
+and seemed embarrassed.
+
+Thankful smiled.  "Yes," she observed, drily, "I notice he tells
+you a lot of things--a whole lot more than he does anybody else.
+Generally speakin', he is about the closest-mouthed young man about
+his personal affairs that I ever run across.  However, I ain't
+jealous, not a mite.  And 'twa'n't of him I was speakin'; 'twas his
+cousin, Mr. E. Holliday Kendrick.  He's got money enough, I guess.
+Maybe he might make a loan on decent security.  He's a possibility.
+I'll think him over."
+
+Mr. E. Holliday and his doings were still East Wellmouth's favorite
+conversational topics.  The great man was preparing to close his
+summer house and return to New York.  His family had already gone--
+to Lenox, where they were to remain for a few weeks and then
+journey to Florida.  E. Holliday remained, several of the servants
+remaining with him, but he, too, was to go very soon.  There were
+rumors that he remained because of other schemes concerning his new
+estate.  Just what those schemes were no one seemed to know.  If
+John Kendrick knew he told no one, not even Emily Howes.
+
+But E. Holliday himself disclosed his plan and it was to Thankful
+Barnes that he did so.  He called at the High Cliff House one
+afternoon and asked to see its proprietor.  Thankful was a trifle
+flustered.  It was the first call which her wealthy neighbor had
+made upon her, and she could not understand why he came at this
+late date.
+
+"For mercy sakes, come into the livin'-room with me, Emily," she
+begged.  "I shan't know how to act in the face of all that money."
+
+Emily was much amused.  "I never knew you to be frightened of money
+before, Auntie," she said.  "I thought you were considering
+borrowing some of this very--ahem--personage."
+
+"Maybe I was, though I cal'late I should have took it out in
+consideration; I never would have gone to him and asked.  But now
+the--what do you call it?--personage--come to me for somethin', the
+land knows what."
+
+"Perhaps HE wants to borrow."
+
+"Humph!  Perhaps he does.  Well, then, he's fishin' in the wrong
+puddle.  Emily Howes, stop laughin' and makin' jokes and come into
+that livin'-room same as I ask you to."
+
+But this Emily firmly declined to do.  "He's not my caller, Auntie,"
+she said.  "He didn't even ask if I were in."
+
+So Thankful went into the living-room alone to meet the personage.
+And she closed all doors behind her.  "If you won't help you shan't
+listen," she declared.  "And I don't know's I'll tell you a word
+after he's gone."
+
+The call was a long one.  It ended in an odd way.  Emily, sitting
+by the dining-room window, heard the front door slam and, looking
+out, saw Mr. Kendrick stalking down the path, a frown on his face
+and outraged dignity in his bearing.  A moment later Thankful burst
+into the dining-room.  Her cheeks were flushed and she looked
+excited and angry.
+
+"What do you think that--that walkin' money-bag came here for?" she
+demanded.  "He came here to tell me I'd got to sell this place to
+him.  Yes, sell it to him, 'cause he wanted it.  It didn't seem to
+make any difference what I wanted.  Well, it will make a difference,
+I tell you that!"
+
+When she had calmed sufficiently she told of the interview with her
+neighbor.  E. Holliday had lost no time in stating his position.
+The High Cliff House, it appeared, was a source of annoyance to him
+and his.  A boarding-house, no matter how genteel or well-conducted
+a boarding-house it may be, could not longer be tolerated in that
+situation.  The boarders irritated him by trespassing upon his
+premises, by knocking their tennis balls into his garden beds, by
+bathing and skylarking on the beach in plain sight from his
+verandas.  And the house and barn interfered with his view.  He
+wished to be perfectly reasonable in the matter; Mrs. Barnes, of
+course, understood that.  He was willing to pay for the privilege
+of having his own way.  But, boiled down and shorn of politeness
+and subterfuge, his proposition was that Thankful should sell her
+property to him, after which he would either tear down the
+buildings on that property, or move them to a less objectionable
+site.
+
+"But, Auntie," cried Emily, "of course you told him you didn't want
+to sell."
+
+"Sartin I did.  I told him all I had was invested here, that my
+first season had been a good one considerin' 'twas the first, and
+that my prospects were all I had a right to hope for.  I told him I
+was sorry if my boarders had plagued him and I'd try to see they
+didn't do so any more.  But I couldn't think of sellin' out."
+
+"And what did he say to that?"
+
+"What didn't he say?  What I said didn't make a bit of difference.
+He made proclamation that any reasonable price I might name he
+would consider.  He wouldn't submit to what he called 'extortion'
+of course, but he would be perfectly fair, and all that.  I kept
+sayin' no and he kept sayin' yes.  Our talk got more and more
+sultry long towards the last of it.  He told me that he made it a
+p'int to get what he wanted and he was goin' to get it now.  One
+thing he told me I didn't know afore, and it's kind of odd, too.
+He said the land this house sits on used to belong to him once.
+His father left it to him.  He sold it a long while ago, afore my
+Uncle Abner bought, I guess.  Now he's sorry he sold."
+
+"That was queer, what else did he say?"
+
+"Oh, he said a whole lot about his desire to make East Wellmouth
+his permanent residence, about the taxes he paid, and what he meant
+to do for the town.  I told him that was all right and fine and the
+town appreciated it, but that I'd got to think of myself; this
+boardin'-house idea was a life-long ambition of mine and I couldn't
+give it up."
+
+"And how did it end?"
+
+"Just where it begun.  His last words to me was that if I wouldn't
+listen to reason then he'd have to try other ways.  And he warned
+me that he should try 'em.  I said go ahead and try, or words not
+quite so sassy but meanin' the same.  And out he marched.  Oh,
+Emily, WHAT do you suppose he'll try?  He can't MAKE me sell out,
+can he?  Oh, dear!  Oh, dear! here's more trouble.  And I thought
+there was enough already!"
+
+Emily did her best to reassure her relative, telling the latter
+that of course she could not be forced into parting with what was
+her own and that Mr. Kendrick was talking merely for effect; but it
+was plain that Miss Howes herself was troubled.
+
+"I think you should consult a lawyer, Auntie," she said.  "I am
+sure I am right, and that that man can't make you do what you don't
+want to do.  But I don't know, of course, and a lawyer would know
+because that is his business.  Why don't you ask John--Mr. John
+Kendrick, I mean?  He will advise you."
+
+Thankful nodded.  "I will," she said.
+
+But John did not come home for dinner that night.  He had business
+which called him to Wellmouth Centre that afternoon and it was late
+in the evening when he returned.  Heman Daniels was late for dinner
+also, and when he entered the dining-room there was an air of
+mystery and importance about him which everyone noticed.  Miss
+Timpson, who seldom permitted reticence to interfere with curiosity,
+asked him what was the matter.
+
+"I do declare, Mr. Daniels," she said, "you look as if you had the
+cares of the nation on your shoulders tonight.  Has anything gone
+wrong with one of those important cases of yours?"
+
+Mr. Daniels shook his head.  "No," he answered, gravely.  "My cases
+are progressing satisfactorily.  My worries just now are not
+professional.  I heard some news this afternoon which--er--upset me
+somewhat, that is all."
+
+"News?  Upsettin' news?  Land sakes, do tell us!  What is it?"
+
+But Mr. Daniels refused to tell.  The news concerned other people,
+he said, and he was not at liberty to tell.  He trusted Miss
+Timpson would excuse him under the circumstances.
+
+Miss Timpson was therefore obliged to excuse him, though it was
+plain that she did so under protest.  She made several more or less
+direct attempts to learn the secret and, failing, went out to
+attend prayer-meeting.  Caleb Hammond went out also, though the
+club, not prayer-meeting, was his announced destination.  Heman
+finished his dinner alone.  When he had finished he sent word by
+Imogene that when Miss Howes was at liberty he should like to speak
+with her.
+
+Emily, who was in the kitchen with Thankful and Captain Obed, the
+latter having, as usual, dropped in on his way to the postoffice,
+seemed in no hurry to speak with Mr. Daniels.  It was not until
+half an hour later, when the message was repeated, that she bade
+the captain good night and started for the living-room.  Captain
+Obed and Thankful smiled at each other.
+
+"Heman's a heap more anxious to see her than she is to see him,"
+observed the former.  "He's pretty fur gone in that direction,
+judgin' by the weather signs."
+
+Thankful nodded.
+
+"I cal'late that's so," she agreed.  "Still, he's been just as fur
+gone with others, if all they say's true.  Mr. Daniels is a
+fascinator, so everybody says."
+
+"Yup.  Prides himself on it, always seemed to me.  But there
+generally comes a time when that kind of a lady-killer gets hit
+himself.  Lots of females have been willin' to marry Heman, but
+he's never given 'em the chance.  About so fur he'll go and then
+shy off."
+
+"How about that widow woman over to Bayport?"
+
+"Well, I did think he was goin' to cast anchor there, but he ain't,
+up to now.  That widow's wuth a lot of money--her husband owned any
+quantity of cranberry bog property--and all hands cal'lated Heman
+had his eye on it.  Maybe he and the widow would have signed
+articles only for Miss Howes heavin' in sight."
+
+"Well, I suppose he's a good man; I never heard a word against him
+that way.  And he's a risin' lawyer--"
+
+"Yes--or riz."
+
+"Yes.  But--but I somehow wouldn't want Emily to marry him."
+
+Captain Obed agreed heartily.  "Neither would I," he declared.
+Then, after a moment, he added: "Hasn't it seemed to you that John
+Kendrick was kind of--well, kind of headin' up towards--towards--"
+
+"Yes.  Ye-es, I have thought so.  I joke Emily a little about him
+sometimes."
+
+"So do I, John.  How do you think she"--with a jerk of the head
+toward the living-room--"feels--er--that way?"
+
+"I don't know.  She likes him, I'm sure of that.  But, so fur as I
+know, there's no understandin' between them.  And, anyhow, John
+couldn't think of gettin' married, not for a long spell.  He hasn't
+got any money."
+
+"No, not yet he ain't, but he will have some day, or I miss my
+guess.  He's gettin' more popular on the Cape all the time, and
+popular in the right places, too.  Why, the last time I was in
+South Denboro Cap'n Elisha Warren spoke to me about him, and if
+Cap'n 'Lisha gets interested in a young feller it means a lot.
+'Lisha's got a lot of influence."
+
+"You say you joke with John about Emily.  How's he take the jokes?"
+
+"Oh, he takes 'em all right.  You can't get him mad by teasin' him,
+'cause he won't tease.  He generally comes right back at me about--
+er--that is--"
+
+"About what?"
+
+"Oh--nothin'.  Just nonsense, that's all.  Well, I cal'late I'd
+better be goin' if I want to fetch the postoffice afore it's shut
+up."
+
+But he was destined not to "fetch" the postoffice that night.  He
+had risen to go when the dining-room door opened and Emily
+appeared.  Her face was flushed, and she seemed excited and angry.
+
+"Auntie," she said, sharply, "Auntie, will you come into the
+living-room a moment.  I want you to hear what that--what Mr.
+Daniels says.  Don't stop to talk.  Come!  Captain Bangs, you may
+come, too.  You are--are his friend and you should hear it."
+
+Surprised and puzzled, Thankful and the captain followed her
+through the dining-room to the living-room.  There they found Heman
+Daniels, standing by the center table, looking embarrassed and
+uncomfortable.
+
+"Now, Mr. Daniels," said Emily, "I want you to tell my cousin and
+Captain Bangs just what you have told me.  It's not true--I know
+it's not true, and I want them to be able to contradict such a
+story.  Tell them."
+
+Heman fidgeted with the paper-cutter on the table.
+
+"I merely told Miss Howes," he said, nervously, "what was told me.
+It was told me by one of the parties most interested and so I
+accepted it as the truth.  I--I have no personal interest in the
+matter.  As--as a friend and--and a lawyer--I offered my services,
+that is all.  I--"
+
+He was interrupted by the opening of the front door.  John
+Kendrick, wearing his light overcoat, and hat in hand, entered the
+living-room.
+
+"I'm awfully sorry to be so late, Mrs. Barnes," he began.  "I was
+detained at the Centre.  Hello, Captain!  Good evening, Daniels!
+Good evening, Miss Howes!"
+
+Captain Obed and Thankful said, "Good evening."  Neither Emily nor
+Heman returned the greeting.  John, for the first time, appeared to
+notice that something was wrong.  He looked from Mrs. Barnes to
+Captain Bangs, standing together at one side of the table, and at
+Daniels and Emily at the other side.  Heman had moved closer to the
+young lady, and in his manner was a hint of confidential
+understanding, almost of protection.
+
+Kendrick looked from one pair to the other.  When he next spoke it
+was to Emily Howes.
+
+"Why, what's the matter?" he asked, with a smile.  "This looks like
+a council of war."
+
+Emily did not smile.
+
+"Mr. Kendrick," she said, "I am very glad you came.  Now you can
+deny it yourself."
+
+John gazed at her in puzzled surprise.
+
+"Deny it?" he repeated.  "Deny what?"
+
+Before Miss Howes could answer Heman Daniels spoke.
+
+"Kendrick," he said, importantly, "Miss Howes has heard something
+concerning you which she doesn't like to believe."
+
+"Indeed?  Did she hear it from you, may I ask?"
+
+"She did."
+
+"And that is why she doesn't believe it?  Daniels, I'm surprised.
+Even lawyers should occasionally--"
+
+Emily interrupted.  "Oh, stop!" she cried.  "Don't joke, please.
+This is not a joking matter.  If what I have been told IS true I
+should--  But I know it isn't--I KNOW it!"
+
+John bowed.  "Thank you," he said.  "What have you heard?"
+
+"She has heard--" began Heman.
+
+"Pardon me, Daniels.  I asked Miss Howes."
+
+Emily began a reply, but she did not finish it.
+
+"I have been told--" she began.  "I have been told--  Oh, I can't
+tell you!  I am ashamed to repeat such wicked nonsense.  Mr.
+Daniels may tell you; it was he who told me."
+
+John turned to his fellow practitioner.
+
+"Very well," he said.  "Now, Daniels, what is it?"
+
+Heman did not hesitate.
+
+"Miss Howes has heard," he said, deliberately, "that your client,
+Mr. Holliday Kendrick, is determined to force Mrs. Barnes here into
+selling him this house and land, to force her to sell whether she
+wishes it or not.  Is that true?"
+
+John nodded, gravely.
+
+"I'm afraid it is," he said.  "He seems quite determined.  In fact,
+he said he had expressed that determination to the lady herself.
+He did that, didn't he, Mrs. Barnes?"
+
+Thankful, who had been so far a perplexed and troubled listener,
+answered.
+
+"Why, yes," she admitted.  "He was here today and he give me to
+understand that he wanted this property of mine and was goin' to
+have it.  If I wouldn't agree to sell it to him now then he'd drive
+me into sellin' later on.  That's about what he said."
+
+Captain Obed struck his fists together.
+
+"The swab!" he exclaimed.  "Well, if that don't beat all my goin'
+to sea!  Humph!  I'd like to know how he cal'lates to do it."
+
+"Anything more, Daniels?" inquired John.
+
+"Yes, there is something more.  What we want to know from you,
+Kendrick, is whether or not you, as his legal adviser, propose to
+help him in this scheme of his.  That is what we wish to know."
+
+"We?  What we?  Has Mrs. Barnes--or Miss Howes--have they engaged
+you as their attorney, Daniels?"
+
+Before Daniels could reply Emily asked a question.
+
+"Did he--has he asked you to help him?" she demanded.  "Has he?"
+
+John smiled.  "I doubt if it could be called asking," he observed.
+"He gave me orders to that effect shortly after he left here."
+
+Emily gasped.  Thankful and Captain Obed said, "Oh!" in concert.
+Heman Daniels smiled triumphantly.
+
+"You see, Miss Howes?" he said.
+
+"One moment, Daniels," broke in Kendrick, sharply.  "You haven't
+answered my question yet.  Just where do you come in on this?"
+
+"I--I--" began Daniels, but once more Emily interrupted.
+
+"Are you--" she cried.  "Tell me; are you going to help that man
+force my cousin into giving up her home?"
+
+Again John smiled.  "Well, to be frank," he said, "since it IS her
+home and she doesn't wish to sell it I can't for the life of me see
+how she can be forced into selling, with or without my valuable
+aid.  Miss Howes, I--"
+
+"Stop!  You persist in treating this affair as a joke.  It is NOT a
+joke--to my cousin, or to me.  Did you tell that man you would help
+him?"
+
+"No."
+
+"I knew it!  I was certain of it!  Of course you didn't!"
+
+"Pardon me, Miss Howes," put in Daniels.  "We have not heard all
+yet.  Kendrick, do I understand that you told your cousin and--er--
+benefactor that you would NOT help him in his infamous scheme?"
+
+John's patience was nearing its limits.  He smiled no more.
+
+"I don't know what you understand, Daniels," he said, crisply.
+"Your understanding in many matters is beyond me."
+
+"But did you say you would not help him?" persisted Emily.
+
+"Why no, not exactly.  He did not wait to hear what I had to say.
+He seemed to take my assistance for granted."
+
+Daniels laughed scornfully.
+
+"You see, Miss Howes?" he said again.  Then, turning to Thankful:
+"Mrs. Barnes, I met Mr. Holliday Kendrick on the street just after
+he had come from the interview with his--er--attorney.  He told me
+that he intended to force you into giving up your property to him
+and he told me also that his cousin here had the case in his hands
+and would work to carry it through.  There seemed to be no doubt in
+his mind that this gentleman," indicating John, "had accepted the
+responsibility.  In fact he said he had."
+
+Captain Obed snorted.  "That's plaguy nonsense!" he declared.  "I
+know better.  John ain't that kind of feller.  You wouldn't help
+anybody to turn a woman out of her house and home, would you, John?
+Course you wouldn't.  The swab!  Just 'cause he's got money he
+cal'lates he can run everything.  Well, he can't."
+
+"Goodness knows I hope he can't!" moaned Thankful.
+
+"And in the meantime we are waiting to hear what his lawyer has to
+say," observed Heman.
+
+John stepped forward.  "Daniels," he said, "it strikes me that your
+'we's' are a bit frequent.  Why are you interfering in this
+affair?"
+
+Mr. Daniels drew himself up.  "I am not interfering," he replied.
+"My interest is purely that of a friend.  AS a friend I told Miss
+Howes what your cousin said to me.  She seemed to doubt my word.
+In justice to myself I propose to prove that I have spoken the
+truth, that is all.  So far I think I may say that I have proved
+it.  Now I demand to know what you intend doing.  Are you for Mrs.
+Barnes or against her?"
+
+"So you demand that, do you?"
+
+"I do.  Will you answer?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Ah ha!  I thought not."
+
+"I'll answer no demands from you.  Why should I?  If Mrs. Barnes or
+Miss Howes asks me I will answer, of course."
+
+"Mr. Kendrick--" began Thankful.  Emily interrupted.
+
+"Wait, Auntie," she said.  "He must answer me first.  Mr. Kendrick,
+when that man came to you with his 'orders,' as you call them, you
+must have had some opportunity to speak.  Why didn't you refuse at
+once?"
+
+For the first time John hesitated.  "Well," he said, slowly, "for
+one reason I was taken completely by surprise."
+
+"So was Aunt Thankful, when he came to her.  But she refused."
+
+"And, for another, there were certain circumstances which made it
+hard to refuse point-blank.  In a way, I suppose Mr. Kendrick was
+justified in assuming that I would work for his interests.  I
+accepted his retaining fee.  You remember that I hesitated before
+doing so, but--but I did accept, and I have acted as his attorney
+since.  I--"
+
+"Stop!  I did not ask for excuses.  I ask you, as Mr. Daniels
+asked, are you for my cousin or against her?"
+
+"And I ask you what is Mr. Daniels' warrant for asking me
+anything?"
+
+"Answer my question!  Will you fight for my cousin's rights, or
+have you sold yourself to--to this benefactor of yours?"
+
+John flushed at the repetition of the word.
+
+"I have tried to give value received for whatever benefactions have
+come my way," he said, coldly.  "This matter may be different; in a
+way it is.  But not as Mr. Holliday Kendrick sees it.  When a
+lawyer accepts a retaining fee--not for one case but for all cases
+which his client may give him--he is, by the ethics of his
+profession, honor bound to--"
+
+"Honor!" scornfully.  "Suppose we omit the 'honor'."
+
+"That is not easy to do.  I AM my cousin's attorney.  But, as Mrs.
+Barnes' friend and yours, I--"
+
+Emily stamped her foot.  "Friend!" she cried.  "I don't care for
+such friends.  I have heard enough.  I don't wish to hear any more.
+You were right, Mr. Daniels.  I apologize for doubting your word.
+Aunt Thankful, you must settle this yourself.  I--I am through.
+I--I am going.  Please don't stop me."
+
+She was on her way to the door of the dining-room.  Heman Daniels
+called her name.
+
+"One minute, Miss Howes," he said.  "I trust you will not forget
+you have one friend who will be only too glad to work for Mrs.
+Barnes' interests and yours.  I am at your service."
+
+"Thank you, thank you, Mr. Daniels.  I--I have no doubt we shall
+need your services.  But please don't--"
+
+John Kendrick was at her side.
+
+"Miss Howes--Emily--" he pleaded.  "Don't misunderstand me."
+
+She burst out at him like, as Captain Obed said afterward, "an
+August thunder tempest."
+
+"Misunderstand!" she repeated.  "I don't misunderstand.  I
+understand quite well.  Don't speak to me again."
+
+The door closed behind her.  Thankful, after an instant's
+hesitation, hurried out after her.
+
+"Excuse me, gentlemen," said Daniels, and followed Mrs. Barnes.
+
+Captain Obed turned to his friend.
+
+"For the Lord sakes, John!" he shouted.  "What in the everlastin'
+do you mean?  What did you let her go that way for?  Why didn't you
+tell her you wouldn't do it?"
+
+But Kendrick paid not the slightest attention.  He was gazing at
+the door through which Emily and Thankful had disappeared.  His
+face was white.
+
+"John," repeated the captain.
+
+"Hush!" ordered John.  He strode to the door and opened it.
+
+"Emily!" he cried.  "Emily!"
+
+There was no answer.  John waited a moment and then turned and
+walked to the window, where he raised the shade and stood looking
+out.
+
+"John," said the captain again.
+
+"Hush!  Don't say anything to me now."
+
+So Captain Obed did not speak.  A few minutes later the dining-room
+door opened and Mr. Daniels entered.  His expression was one of
+complete, not to say malicious, satisfaction.  John turned at the
+opening of the door.
+
+"Emily," he began.  Then, seeing Daniels, he remained silent,
+looking at him.
+
+"Kendrick," said Heman, with dignity, "in the matter which we have
+just been discussing you will hereafter deal with me.  That is Mrs.
+Barnes' wish and also Miss Howes'."
+
+John did not reply.  Once more he walked to the door and opened it.
+
+"Miss Howes!" he called.  "Emily!  If you will let me explain--
+Emily!"
+
+"I'll go fetch her," declared Captain Obed.  John pushed him back.
+
+"Don't interfere, Captain," he said, sharply.  "Emily!"
+
+No answer.  Daniels made the next remark.
+
+"I'm afraid you don't get the situation, Kendrick," he said.
+"Neither Miss Howes nor Mrs. Barnes cares to see you or speak with
+you.  After this you are to deal with me.  They have asked me, as a
+FRIEND," emphasizing the word, "to act as their representative in
+this and all matters."
+
+John turned and looked at the speaker.
+
+"In all matters?" he asked, slowly.
+
+"Yes sir, in all."
+
+"And they refuse to see me?"
+
+"It would--er--seem so. . . .  Is there anything further, Kendrick?
+If not then this affair between your--er--client and mine would
+appear to be a matter of skill for you and me to contest.  We'll
+see who wins."
+
+John still looked at him.
+
+"So that's it then," he said, after a moment.  "You and I are to
+determine which is the better lawyer?"
+
+"So it would seem.  Though, considering my record and experience, I
+don't know that--"
+
+"That such a test is necessary?  I don't know that it is, either.
+But we'll have it."
+
+He walked from the room and they heard him ascending the stairs.
+Captain Obed swore aloud.  Heman Daniels laughed.
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+The next morning the captain was an early caller.  Breakfast at the
+High Cliff House was scarcely over when he knocked at the kitchen
+door.  Imogene opened the door.
+
+"Mr. Kendrick ain't here," she said, in answer to the caller's
+question.  "He's gone."
+
+"Gone?  So early?  Where's he gone; down to his office?"
+
+"I don't know.  He's gone, that's all I do know.  He didn't stop
+for any breakfast either."
+
+"Humph!  That's funny.  Where's Mrs. Thankful?"
+
+"She's up in Miss Emily's room.  Miss Emily didn't come down to
+breakfast neither.  I'll tell Mrs. Barnes you're here."
+
+When Thankful came she looked grave enough.
+
+"I'm awful glad to see you, Cap'n," she said.  "I've been wantin'
+to talk to some sane person; the one I've been talkin' to ain't
+sane, not now.  Come into the dinin'-room.  Imogene, you needn't
+finish clearin' away till I tell you to.  You stay in the kitchen
+here."
+
+When she and Captain Obed were in the dining-room alone, and with
+both doors closed, Thankful told of the morning's happenings.
+
+"They're bad enough, too," she declared.  "Almost as bad as that
+silly business last night--or worse, if such a thing's possible.
+To begin with, Mr. John Kendrick's gone."
+
+"Yes, Imogene said he'd gone.  But what made him go so early?"
+
+"You don't understand, Cap'n.  I mean he's gone--gone for good.  He
+isn't goin' to board or room here any more."
+
+Captain Obed whistled.  "Whew!" he exclaimed.  "You don't mean it?"
+
+"I wish I didn't, but I do.  I didn't see him this mornin', he went
+too early for that, but he took his suitcase and his trunk is all
+packed and locked.  He left a note for me with a check for his room
+rent and board in it.  The note said that under the circumstances
+he presumed I would agree 'twas best for him to go somewheres else
+at once.  He thanked me for my kindness, and said some real nice
+things--but he's gone."
+
+"Tut! tut!  Dear, dear!  Where's he gone to?  Did he say?"
+
+"No, I've told you all he said.  I suppose likely I ought to have
+expected it, and perhaps, if he is goin' to work for that cousin of
+his and against me, it's best that he shouldn't stay here; but I'll
+miss him awful--a good deal more'n I miss the money he's paid me,
+and the land knows I need that.  I can't understand why he acted
+the way he did last night.  It don't seem like him at all."
+
+"Humph!  I should say it didn't.  And it ain't like him either.
+There's a nigger in the woodpile somewheres; I wish I could smoke
+the critter out.  What's Emily say about his goin'?"
+
+"She don't say anything.  She won't talk about him at all, and she
+won't let me mention his name.  The poor girl looks as if she'd had
+a hard night of it, but she looks, too, as if her mind was made up
+so fur's he was concerned."
+
+Captain Obed pulled at his beard.
+
+"She didn't give him much of a chance last evenin', seemed to me,"
+he said.  "If she'd only come back when he called after her that
+time, I cal'late he was goin' to say somethin'; but she didn't
+come.  Wouldn't answer him at all."
+
+"Did he call after her?  I didn't hear him and I don't think she
+did.  When she slammed out of that livin'-room she went right up
+the back stairs to her bedroom and I chased after her.  She was
+cryin', or next door to it, and I wanted to comfort her.  But she
+wouldn't let me."
+
+"I see.  Probably she didn't hear him call at all.  He did, though;
+and he called her by her first name.  Matters between 'em must have
+gone further'n we thought they had."
+
+"Yes, I guess that's so.  Do you know, Cap'n, I wouldn't wonder if
+Mr. Daniels knew that and that was why he was so--so nasty to Mr.
+Kendrick last night.  Well, I'm afraid it's all off now.  Emily's
+awful proud and she's got a will of her own."
+
+"Um, so I should judge.  And John's will ain't all mush and
+molasses either.  That's the worst of young folks.  I wonder how
+many good matches have been broke off just by two young idiots
+lettin' their pride interfere with their common-sense.  I wish you
+and me had a dime for every one that had; you wouldn't have to keep
+boarders, and I wouldn't have to run sailin' parties with codfish
+passengers."
+
+"That's so.  But, Cap'n Bangs, DO you think Mr. Kendrick is goin'
+to try and force me into sellin' out just 'cause his boss says so?
+It don't seem as if he could.  Why, he--he's seemed so grateful for
+what I've done for him.  He said once I couldn't be kinder if I was
+his own mother.  It don't seem as if he could treat me so, just for
+the money there was in it.  But, Oh dear!" as the thought of Mr.
+Solomon Cobb crossed her mind, "seems as if some folks would do
+anything for money."
+
+"John wouldn't.  I've known of his turnin' down more'n one case
+there was money in account of its bein' more fishy than honest.
+No, if he does work for that--that half Holliday cousin of his on
+this job, it'll be because he's took the man's money and feels he
+can't decently say no.  But I don't believe he will.  No, sir-ee!
+I tell you there's a darky in this kindlin' pile.  I'm goin' right
+down to see John this minute."
+
+He went, but, instead of helping the situation, he merely made it
+worse.  He found John seated at his office desk apparently engaged
+in his old occupation, that of looking out of the window.  The
+young man's face was pale and drawn, but his manner was perfectly
+calm.
+
+"Hello, Captain," he observed, as his caller entered.  "I trust
+you've taken the necessary precautions, fumigated and all that sort
+of thing."
+
+"Fumigated?"
+
+"Why, yes.  Unless I'm greatly mistaken, this office is destined to
+become the den of the moral leper.  As soon as my respected fellow-
+townsmen, the majority of them, learn that I am to battle with
+Heman the Great, and in such a cause, I shall be shunned and, so to
+speak, spat upon.  You're taking big chances by coming here."
+
+The captain grunted.  "Umph!" he sniffed.  "They don't know it yet;
+neither do I."
+
+"Ah yes, but they will shortly.  Daniels will take care that they
+do."
+
+"John, for thunder sakes--"
+
+"Better escape contagion while you can, Captain.  Unclean! Unclean!"
+
+"Aw, belay, John!  I don't feel like jokin'.  What you've got to
+tell me now is that it ain't so.  You ain't goin' to--to try to--
+to--"
+
+His friend interrupted.  "Captain Bangs," he said, sharply, "this
+is a practical world we live in.  You and I have had that preached
+to us; at least I have and you were present during the sermon.  I
+don't know how you feel, of course; but henceforth I propose to be
+the most practical man you ever saw."
+
+"Consarn your practicality!  Are you goin' to help that--that gold-
+dust twin--that cussed relation of yours, grab Thankful Barnes'
+house and land from her?"
+
+"Look here, Bangs; when the--gold-dust twin isn't bad--when the
+twin offered me the position of his attorney and the blanket
+retainer along with it, who was it that hesitated concerning my
+acceptance?  You?  I don't remember that you did.  Neither did--
+others.  But I did accept because--well, because.  Now the
+complications are here, and what then?"
+
+"John--John Kendrick, if you dast to set there and tell me you're
+cal'latin' to--you can't do it!  You can't be goin' to try such a--"
+
+"Oh, yes, I can.  I may not succeed, but I can try."
+
+Captain Obed seldom lost his temper, but he lost it now.
+
+"By the everlastin'!" he roared.  "And this is the young feller
+that I've been holdin' up and backin' up as all that's fair and
+above board!  John Kendrick, do you realize--"
+
+"Easy, Captain, easy.  Perhaps I realize what I'm doing better than
+you do."
+
+"You don't neither.  Emily Howes--"
+
+John's interruption was sharper now.
+
+"That'll do, Bangs," he said.  "Suppose we omit names."
+
+"No, we won't omit 'em.  I tell you you don't realize.  You're
+drivin' that girl right straight to Heman Daniels, that's what
+you're doin'."
+
+Kendrick smiled.  "I should say there was no driving necessary," he
+observed.  "Daniels seems to be already the chosen guardian and
+adviser.  I do realize what I'm doing, Captain, and," deliberately,
+"I shall do it."
+
+"John, Emily--"
+
+"Hush!  I like you, Captain Obed.  I don't wish to quarrel with
+you.  Take my advice and omit that young lady's name."
+
+Captain Obed made one last appeal.
+
+"John," he pleaded, desperately, "don't!  I know you're sort of--
+sort of tied up to Holliday Kendrick; I know you feel that you are.
+But this ain't a question of professional honor and that kind of
+stuff.  It's right and wrong."
+
+"Is it?  I think not.  I was quite willing to discuss the rights
+and wrongs, but I had no--however, that is past.  I was informed
+last night, and in your hearing, that the question was to be purely
+a matter of legal skill--of law--between Daniels and myself.  Very
+well; I am a lawyer.  Good morning, Captain Bangs."
+
+The captain left the office, still protesting.  He was hurt and
+angry.  It was not until later he remembered he had not told
+Kendrick that Heman Daniels must have spoken without authority when
+he declared himself the chosen representative of Mrs. Barnes and
+Emily in all matters between the pair and John.  Heman could not
+have been given such authority because, according to Thankful's
+story, she and Miss Howes had immediately gone upstairs after
+leaving the living-room.  Daniels could have spoken with them again
+that evening.  But when Captain Obed remembered this it was too
+late.  Thankful had asked Mr. Daniels to take her case, provided
+the attempt at ousting her from her property ever reached legal
+proceedings.  And Emily Howes left East Wellmouth two days later.
+
+She had not intended to leave for South Middleboro so soon; she had
+planned to remain another week before going back to her school
+duties.  But there came a letter from the committee asking her to
+return as soon as possible and she suddenly announced her
+determination to go at once.
+
+Thankful at first tried to dissuade her, but soon gave up the
+attempt.  It was quite evident that Emily meant to go and equally
+certain, in her cousin's mind, that the reason for the sudden
+departure was the scene with John Kendrick.  Emily refused to
+discuss the latter's conduct or to permit the mention of his name.
+She seemed reluctant even to speak of the Holliday Kendrick matter,
+although all of East Wellmouth was now talking of little else.
+When Mrs. Barnes, driven to desperation, begged her to say what
+should be done, she shook her head.
+
+"I wish I could tell you, Auntie," she said, "but I can't.  Perhaps
+you don't need to do anything yet.  Mr. Daniels says the idea that
+that man can force you into selling is ridiculous."
+
+"I know he does.  But I'm a woman, Emily, and what I don't know
+about law would fill a bigger library than there is in this town by
+a consider'ble sight.  It's always the woman, particularly a widow
+woman, that gets the worst of it in this kind of thing.  I'd feel
+better if I knew somebody was lookin' out for me.  Oh dear, if only
+Mr. John Kendrick hadn't--"
+
+"Auntie, please."
+
+"Yes, I know.  But it don't seem as if he could act so to me.  It
+don't seem--"
+
+"Hush!  It is quite evident he can.  Don't say any more."
+
+"Well, I won't.  But what shall I do?  Shall I put it all in Mr.
+Daniels' hands?  He says he'll be glad to help; in fact about
+everybody thinks he is helpin', I guess.  Hannah Parker told me--"
+
+"Don't, Auntie, don't.  Put it in Mr. Daniels' hands, if you think
+best.  I suppose it is all you can do.  Yes, let Mr. Daniels handle
+it for you."
+
+"All right.  I'll tell him you and I have agreed--"
+
+"No.  Tell him nothing of the sort.  Don't bring my name into the
+matter."
+
+"But, Emily, you don't think I ought to sell--"
+
+"No!  No!  Of course I don't think so.  If I were you I should
+fight to the last ditch.  I would never give in--never!  Oh,
+Auntie, I feel wicked and mean to leave you now, with all this new
+trouble; but I must--I must.  I can't stay here--I--"
+
+"There, there, Emily, dear!  I understand, I guess.  I know how
+hard it is for you.  And I thought so much of him, too.  I thought
+he was such a fine young--"
+
+"Aunt Thankful, are you daring to hint that I--I--care in the least
+for that--him?  How dare you insinuate such a thing to me?  I--I
+despise him!"
+
+"Yes, yes," hastily.  "Course you do, course you do.  Well, we
+won't worry about that, any of it.  Mr. Daniels says there's
+nothin' to worry about anyhow, and I'll tell him he can do what he
+thinks ought to be done when it's necessary.  Now let's finish up
+that packin' of yours, dearie."
+
+Thankful did not trust herself to accompany her cousin to Wellmouth
+Centre.  She was finding it hard enough to face the coming
+separation with outward cheerfulness, and the long ride to the
+railway station she found to be too great a strain.  So she made
+the lameness of George Washington's off fore leg an excuse for
+keeping that personage in the stable, and it was in Winnie S.'s
+depot-wagon that Emily journeyed to the Centre.
+
+They said good-by at the front gate.  Emily, too, was trying to
+appear cheerful, and the parting was hurried.
+
+"Good-by, Auntie," she said.  "Take care of yourself.  Write often
+and I will answer, I promise you.  I know you'll be lonely after
+I've gone, but I have a plan--a secret.  If I can carry it through
+you won't be SO lonely, I'm pretty sure.  And don't worry, will
+you?  The mortgage is all right and as for the other thing--well,
+that will be all right, too.  You won't worry, will you?"
+
+"No, no; I'll be too busy to worry.  And you'll come down for the
+Christmas vacation?  You will, won't you?"
+
+"I'll try . . . I mean I will if I can arrange it.  Good-by, dear."
+
+The depot-wagon rattled out of the yard.  Winnie S. pulled up at
+the gate to shout a bit of news.
+
+"Say, Mrs. Barnes," he yelled, "we got one of your boarders over to
+our place now.  John Kendrick's come there to live.  Lots of folks
+are down on him 'count of his heavin' you over and takin' up along
+with Mr. Holliday; but Dad says he don't care about that so long's
+he pays his board reg'lar.  Git dap, Old Hundred!"
+
+A last wave of Thankful's hand, the answering wave of a handkerchief
+from the rear seat of the depot-wagon, and the parting was over.
+Thankful went into the house.  Lonely!  She had never been more
+lonely in her life, except when the news of her husband's death was
+brought to her.  The pang of loneliness which followed her brother
+Jedediah's departure for the Klondike was as nothing to this.  She
+had promised not to worry, and she must keep that promise, but there
+was certainly plenty to cause worry.  The mortgage which Emily had
+so comfortably declared "all right" was far from that.  Solomon Cobb
+had not been near her since their interview.  He had not yet said
+that he would renew the mortgage when it fell due.  Mrs. Barnes
+began to fear that he did not intend to renew it.
+
+Heman Daniels, when he came in for supper, seemed disturbed to find
+that Miss Howes had gone.  Somehow or other he had gained the
+impression that she was to leave the next morning.
+
+"Did she--did Miss Howes leave no message for me?" he inquired,
+with a carelessness which, to Thankful, seemed more assumed than
+real.
+
+"No," answered the latter, "no, unless you call it a message about
+takin' the responsibility of Holliday Kendrick and his schemes off
+my hands.  That is," remembering Emily's desire not to have her
+name mentioned in the matter, "she didn't leave that.  But I guess
+you can take charge of that mess, if you want to."
+
+Mr. Daniels smiled a superior smile.  "I intended doing so," he
+said, "as a matter of friendship, Mrs. Barnes.  You may rest easy.
+I have taken pains to let the town-folks know that your interests
+are mine and I think our--er--late--er--friend is learning what our
+best citizens think of his attitude."
+
+There was truth in this statement.  John Kendrick had foreseen the
+effect upon his popularity which his espousal of his wealthy
+relative's cause might have and his prophecy concerning "moral
+leprosy" was in process of fulfillment.  Opinion in the village was
+divided, of course.  There were some who, like Darius Holt,
+announced that they did not blame the young yellow.  E. Holliday
+had money and influence and, as a business man, his attorney would
+be a fool not to stick by the cash-box.  But there were others, and
+these leading citizens and hitherto good friends, who openly
+expressed disgust both with the rich man and his lawyer.  Several
+of these citizens called upon Thankful to tell her of their
+sympathy and of their wish to help her in any way.
+
+"Not that you're liable to need help," said one caller.  "This
+property's yours and even John D. himself couldn't get it from you
+unless you were willin'.  But it's a dirty trick just the same and
+young Kendrick, that all hands thought was so straight and honest,
+takin' part in it is the dirtiest thing in it.  Well, he's hurt
+himself more'n he has anybody else."
+
+Captain Obed Bangs was a gloomy man that fall.  He had always liked
+John and the liking had grown to an ardent admiration and
+affection.  He made several attempts to speak with the young man on
+the subject, but the latter would not discuss it.  He was always
+glad to see the captain and quite willing to talk of anything but
+Mrs. Barnes' property and of Emily Howes.  These topics were taboo
+and Captain Obed soon ceased to mention them.  Also he no longer
+made daily calls at the ex-barber-shop and, in spite of himself,
+could not help showing, when he did call, the resentment he felt.
+John noticed this and there was a growing coldness between the two.
+
+"But," declared the captain, stoutly, when he and Thankful were
+together, "I still say 'tain't so.  I give in that it looks as if
+'twas, but I tell you there's a nigger in the woodpile somewheres.
+Some day he'll be dug out and then there's a heap of tattle-tales
+and character naggers in this town that'll find they've took the
+wrong channel.  They'll be good and seasick, that's what they'll
+be."
+
+Mr. E. Holliday Kendrick, if he knew that his own popularity had
+suffered a shock, did not appear to care.  He went on with his
+plans for enlarging his estate and, when he left East Wellmouth for
+New York, which he did early in October, told those who asked him
+that he had left the purchase of the "boarding-house nuisance" in
+the hands of his attorney.  "I shall have that property," he
+announced, emphatically.  "I may not get it for some time, but I
+shall get it.  I make it a point to get what I go after."
+
+Emily, in her letters, those written soon after her arrival in
+South Middleboro, said nothing concerning her plan, the "secret"
+which was to cheer Mrs. Barnes' loneliness.  Thankful could not
+help wondering what the secret might be, but in her own letters she
+asked no questions.  And, one day in mid-October, that secret was
+divulged.
+
+Thankful, busy in the kitchen with Imogene, preparing dinner, heard
+the sound of wheels and horse's hoofs in the yard.  Going to the
+door, she was surprised to see Captain Obed Bangs climbing from a
+buggy.  The buggy was her own and the horse to which it was attached
+was her own George Washington.  Upon the seat of the buggy was a
+small boy.  Thankful merely glanced at the boy; her interest just
+then centered upon the fact that the captain was, or apparently had
+been, using her horse and buggy without her knowledge or consent.
+She certainly had no objection to his so using it, but it was most
+unlike him to do so.
+
+"Good mornin', ma'am," he hailed, cheerfully.  His eyes were
+twinkling and he appeared to be in high good humor.
+
+"Why, good mornin', Cap'n," said Thankful.  "I--you--you're goin'
+somewhere, I should judge."
+
+The captain shook his head.  "No," he replied, "I've been.  Had an
+errand up to the Centre.  I knew somethin' was comin' on the
+mornin' train so I drove up to fetch it.  Thought you wouldn't mind
+my usin' your horse and buggy.  Imogene knew I was usin' it."
+
+Thankful was surprised.  "She did?" she repeated.  "That's funny.
+She didn't say a word to me."
+
+"No, I told her not to.  You see, the--the somethin' I was
+expectin' was for you, so I thought we'd make it a little surprise.
+Emily--Miss Howes, she sent it."
+
+"Emily--sent somethin' to me?"
+
+"Yup."
+
+"For the land sakes!  Well," after a moment, "did it come?  Where
+is it?"
+
+"Oh, yes, it came.  It's right there in the buggy.  Don't you see
+it?"
+
+Thankful looked at the buggy.  The only thing in it, so far as she
+could see, was the little boy on the seat.  The little boy grinned.
+
+"Hello, Aunt Thankful," he said.  "I've come to stay with you, I
+have."
+
+Thankful started, stared, and then made a rush for the buggy.
+
+"Georgie Hobbs!" she cried.  "You blessed little scamp!  Come here
+to me this minute.  Well, well, well!"
+
+Georgie came and was received with a bear hug and a shower of
+kisses.
+
+"Well, well!" repeated Thankful.  "And to think I didn't know you!
+I'm ashamed of myself.  And you're the surprise, I suppose.  You
+ARE one, sure and sartin.  How did you get here?"
+
+"I came on the cars," declared Georgie, proudly.  "Ma and Emmie put
+me on 'em and told me to sit right still until I got to Wellmouth
+Centre and then get off.  And I did, too; didn't I, Mr.--I mean
+Captain Bangs."
+
+"You bet you did!" agreed the delighted captain.  "That's some
+relation you've got there, Mrs. Barnes.  He's little but Oh my!  He
+and I have had a good talk on the way down.  We got along fust-
+rate; hey, commodore?  The commodore's agreed to ship second-mate
+along with me next v'yage I make, if I ever make one."
+
+Thankful held her "relation"--he was Emily's half-brother and her
+own favorite next to Emily herself in that family--at arm's length.
+"You blessed little--little mite!" she exclaimed.  "So you come
+'way down here all alone just to see your old auntie.  Did you ever
+in your life!  And I suppose you're the 'secret' Emily said she
+had, the one that was to keep me from bein' lonesome."
+
+Georgie nodded.  "Yes," he said.  "Emmie, she's wrote you all about
+me.  I've got the letter pinned inside of me here," patting his
+small chest.  "And I'm goin' to stay ever so long, I am.  I want to
+see the pig and the hens and the--and the orphan, and everything."
+
+"So you shall," declared Thankful.  "I'm glad enough to see you to
+turn the house inside out if you wanted to look at it.  And you
+knew all about this, I suppose?" turning to Captain Obed.
+
+The captain laughed aloud.
+
+"Sartin I did," he said.  "Miss Howes and I have been writin' each
+other like a couple of courtin' young folks.  I knew the commodore
+was goin' to set sail today and I was on hand up to the depot to
+man the yards.  Forgive me for hookin' your horse and buggy, will
+you, Mrs. Thankful?"
+
+Forgiveness was granted.  Thankful would have forgiven almost
+anything just then.  The "commodore" announced that he was hungry
+and he was hurried into the house.  The cares of travel had not
+taken away his appetite.  He was introduced to Imogene, at whom he
+stared fixedly for a minute or more and then asked if she was the
+"orphan."  When told that she was he asked if her mamma and papa
+were truly dead.  Imogene said she guessed they were.  Then Georgie
+asked why, and, after then, what made them that way, adding the
+information that he had a kitty that went dead one time and wasn't
+any good any more.
+
+The coming of the "commodore" brought a new touch of life to the
+High Cliff House, which had settled down for its winter nap.
+Thankful, of course, read Emily's letter at the first opportunity.
+Emily wrote that she felt sure Georgie would be company for her
+cousin and that she had conceived the idea of the boy's visit
+before leaving East Wellmouth, but had said nothing because she was
+not sure mother would consent.  But that consent had been granted
+and Georgie might stay until Christmas, perhaps even after that if
+he was not too great a care.
+
+He was something of a care, there was no doubt of that.  Imogene,
+whom he liked and who liked him, declared that "that young one had
+more jump in him than a sand flea."  The very afternoon of his
+arrival he frightened the hens into shrieking hysterics, poked the
+fat and somnolent Patrick Henry, the pig, with a sharp stick to see
+if he was alive and not "gone dead" like the kitten, and barked his
+shins and nose by falling out of the wheelbarrow in the barn.
+Kenelm, who still retained his position at the High Cliff House and
+was meek and lowly under the double domination of his fiancee and
+his sister, was inclined to grumble.  "A feller can't set down to
+rest a minute," declared Kenelm, "without that young one's jumpin'
+out at him from behind somethin' or 'nother and hollerin', 'Boo!'
+Seems to like to scare me into a fit.  Picks on me wuss than
+Hannah, he does."
+
+But even Kenelm confessed to a liking for the "pesky little
+nuisance."  Captain Obed idolized him and took him on excursions
+along the beach or to his own fish-houses, where Georgie sat on a
+heap of nets and came home smelling strongly of cod, but filled to
+the brim with sea yarns.  And Thankful found in the boy the one
+comfort and solace for her increasing troubles and cares.
+Altogether the commodore was in a fair way to become a thoroughly
+spoiled officer.
+
+With November came the rains again, and, compared with them, those
+of early September seemed but showers.  Day after day and night
+after night the wind blew and the water splashed against the
+windows and poured from the overflowing gutters.  Patrick Henry,
+the pig, found his quarters in the new pen, in the hollow behind
+the barn, the center of the flood zone, and being discovered one
+morning marooned on a swampy islet in the middle of a muddy lake,
+was transferred to the old sty, that built by the late Mr. Laban
+Eldredge, beneath the woodshed and adjoining the potato cellar.
+Thankful's orderly, neat soul rebelled against having a pig under
+the house, but, as she expressed it, "'twas either that or havin'
+the critter two foot under water."
+
+Captain Obed, like every citizen of East Wellmouth, was disgusted
+with the weather.  "I was cal'latin' to put in my spare time down
+to the shanty buildin' a new dory," he said, "but I guess now I'll
+build an ark instead.  If this downpour keeps on I'll need one bad
+as Noah ever did."
+
+Heman Daniels, Miss Timpson and Caleb Hammond were now the only
+boarders and roomers Mrs. Barnes had left to provide for.  There
+was little or no profit in providing for them, for the rates paid
+by the two last named were not high, and their demands were at
+times almost unreasonable.  Miss Timpson had a new idea now, that
+of giving up the room she had occupied since coming to the Barnes
+boarding-house and moving her belongings into the suite at the rear
+of the second floor, that comprising the large room and the little
+back bedroom adjoining, the latter the scene of Thankful's spooky
+adventure on the first night of her arrival in East Wellmouth.
+These rooms ordinarily rented for much more than Miss Timpson had
+paid for her former apartment, but she had no thought of paying
+more for them.  "Of course I shouldn't expect to get 'em for the
+same if 'twas summer," she explained to Thankful, "but just now,
+with 'em standin' empty, I might as well move there as not.  I know
+you'll be glad to have me, won't you, Mrs. Barnes, you and me being
+such good friends by this time."
+
+And Thankful, although conscious of an injustice somewhere, did not
+like to refuse her "good friend."  So she consented and Miss
+Timpson moved into the back rooms.  But she no sooner had her
+trunks carried there than she was struck by another brilliant idea.
+Thankful, hearing unusual sounds from above that Saturday morning,
+ascended the back stairs to find the school mistress tugging at the
+bureau, which she was apparently trying to drag from the small room
+into the larger.
+
+"It came to me all of a sudden," panted Miss Timpson, who was out
+of breath but enthusiastic.  "That little room's awful small and
+stuffy to sleep in, and I do hate to sleep in a stuffy room.  But
+when I was standing there sniffing and looking it came to me."
+
+"What came to you?" demanded the puzzled Thankful.  "What are you
+talkin' about--the bureau?"
+
+"No, no!  The idea!  The bureau couldn't come to me by itself,
+could it?  No, the idea came to me.  That little room isn't good
+for much as a bedroom, but it will make the loveliest study.  I can
+put my table and my books in there and move the bed and things in
+here.  Then I'll have a beautiful, nice big bedroom and the cutest
+little study.  And I've always wanted a study.  Now if you and
+Imogene help me with the bureau and bed it'll be all fixed."
+
+So Imogene, assisted by Kenelm, who was drafted in Thankful's
+place, spent a good part of the afternoon shifting furniture and
+arranging the bedroom and the "study."  Miss Timpson superintended,
+and as she was seldom satisfied until each separate item of the
+suite's equipment had been changed about at least twice, in order
+to get the "effect," all three were nervous and tired when the
+shifting was over.  Miss Timpson should have been happy over the
+attainment of the study, but instead she appeared gloomy and
+downcast.
+
+"I declare," she said, as she and Thankful sat together in the
+living-room that evening, "I don't know's I've done right, after
+all.  I don't know's I wish I had stayed right where I was."
+
+"Mercy on us!  Why?" demanded Thankful, a trifle impatiently.
+
+"Oh, I don't know.  Maybe 'cause I'm kind of tired and nervous
+tonight.  I feel as if--as if something was going to happen to me.
+I wonder if I could have another cup of tea before I went to bed;
+it might settle my nerves, you know."
+
+Considering that the lady had drunk three cups of tea at supper
+Mrs. Barnes could not help feeling doubtful concerning the soothing
+effect of a fourth.  But she prepared it and brought it into the
+living-room.  Miss Timpson sipped the tea and groaned.
+
+"Do you ever have presentiments, Mrs. Barnes?" she asked.
+
+"Have what?"
+
+"Presentiments?  Warnings, you know?  I've had several in my life
+and they have always come to something.  I feel as if I was going
+to have one now.  Heavens!  Hear that wind and rain!  Don't they
+sound like somebody calling--calling?"
+
+"No, they don't.  They sound cold and wet, that's all.  Dear me, I
+never saw such a spell of weather.  I thought this mornin' 'twas
+goin' to clear, but now it's come on again, hard as ever."
+
+"Well," with dismal resignation, "we'll all go when our time comes,
+I suppose.  We're here today and gone tomorrow.  I don't suppose
+there's any use setting and worrying.  Be prepared, that's the main
+thing.  Have you bought a cemetery lot, Mrs. Barnes?  You ought to;
+everybody had.  We can't tell when we're liable to need a grave."
+
+"Goodness gracious sakes!  Don't talk about cemetery lots and
+graves.  You give me the blue creeps.  Go to bed and rest up.
+You're tired, and no wonder; you've moved no less'n three times
+since mornin', and they say one movin's as bad as a fire.  Here!
+Give me that tea-cup.  There's nothin' left in it but grounds, and
+you don't want to drink THEM."
+
+Miss Timpson relinquished the cup, took her lamp and climbed the
+stairs.  Her good night was as mournful as a funeral march.
+Thankful, left alone, tried to read for a time, but the wailing
+wind and squeaking shutters made her nervous and depressed, so,
+after putting the key under the mat of the side door for Heman
+Daniels, who was out attending a meeting of the Masonic Lodge, she,
+too, retired.
+
+It was not raining when she awoke, but the morning was gray and
+cloudy.  She came downstairs early, so early--for it was Sunday
+morning, when all East Wellmouth lies abed--that she expected to
+find no one, not even Imogene, astir.  But, to her great surprise,
+Miss Timpson was seated by the living-room stove.
+
+"Land sakes!" exclaimed Thankful.  "Are you up?  What's the
+matter?"
+
+Miss Timpson, who had started violently when Mrs. Barnes entered,
+turned toward the latter a face as white, so Thankful described it
+afterward, "as unbleached muslin."  This was not a bad simile, for
+Miss Timpson's complexion was, owing to her excessive tea-drinking,
+a decided yellow.  Just now it was a very pale yellow.
+
+"Who is it?" she gasped.  "Oh, it's you, Mrs. Barnes.  It IS you,
+isn't it?"
+
+"Me?  Of course it's me.  Have I changed so much in the night that
+you don't know me?  What is it, Miss Timpson?  Are you sick?  Can I
+get you anything?"
+
+"No, no.  I ain't sick--in body, anyway.  And nobody can get me
+anything this side of the grave.  Mrs. Barnes, I'm going."
+
+"You're GOIN'?  What?  You don't mean you're dyin'?"
+
+Considering her lodger's remarks of the previous evening, those
+relating to "going when the time came," it is no wonder Thankful
+was alarmed.  But Miss Timpson shook her head.
+
+"No," she said, "I don't mean that, not yet, though that'll come
+next; I feel it coming already.  No, Mrs. Barnes, I don't mean
+that.  I mean I'm going away.  I can't live here any longer."
+
+Thankful collapsed upon a chair.
+
+"Goin'!" she repeated.  "You're goin' to leave here?  Why--why
+you've just fixed up to stay!"
+
+Miss Timpson groaned.  "I know," she wailed; "I thought I had, but
+I--I've changed my mind.  I'm going to leave--now."
+
+By way of proof she pointed to her traveling-bag, which was beside
+her on the floor.  Mrs. Barnes had not noticed the bag before, but
+now she saw that it was, apparently, packed.
+
+"My trunks ain't ready yet," went on the schoolmistress.  "I tried
+to pack 'em, but--but I couldn't.  I couldn't bear to do it alone.
+Maybe you or Imogene will help me by and by.  Oh, my soul!  What
+was that?"
+
+"What?  I didn't hear anything."
+
+"Didn't you?  Well, perhaps I didn't, either.  It's just my nerves,
+I guess!  Mrs. Barnes, could you help me pack those trunks pretty
+soon?  I'm going away.  I must go.  If I stay in this house any
+longer I shall DIE."
+
+She was trembling and wringing her hands.  Thankful tried to
+comfort her and did succeed in quieting her somewhat, but, in spite
+of her questionings and pleadings Miss Timpson refused to reveal
+the cause of her agitation or of her sudden determination to leave
+the High Cliff House.
+
+"It ain't anything you've done or haven't done, Mrs. Barnes," she
+said.  "I like it here and I like the board and I like you.  But I
+must go.  I'm going to my cousin's down in the village first and
+after that I don't know where I'll go.  Please don't ask me any
+more."
+
+She ate a few mouthfuls of the breakfast which Thankful hastily
+prepared for her and then she departed for her cousin's.  Thankful
+begged her to stay until Kenelm came, when he might harness the
+horse and drive her to her destination, but she would not wait.
+She would not even remain to pack her trunks.
+
+"I'll come back and pack 'em," she said.  "Or perhaps you and
+Imogene will pack 'em for me.  Oh, Mrs. Barnes, you've been so
+kind.  I hate to leave you this way, I do, honest."
+
+"But WHY are you leavin'?" asked Thankful once more.  For the first
+time Miss Timpson seemed to hesitate.  She looked about, as if to
+make sure that the two were alone; then she leaned forward and
+whispered in her companion's ear.
+
+"Mrs. Barnes," she whispered, "I--I didn't mean to tell you.  I
+didn't mean to tell anybody.  'Twas too personal, too sacred a
+thing to tell.  But I don't know's I shan't tell you after all;
+seem's as if I must tell somebody.  Mrs. Barnes, I shan't live much
+longer.  I've had a warning."
+
+Thankful stared at her.
+
+"Rebecca Timpson!" she exclaimed.  "Have you gone crazy?  What are
+you talkin' about?  A warnin'!"
+
+"Yes, a warning.  I was warned last night.  You--you knew I was a
+twin, didn't you?"
+
+"A which?"
+
+"A twin.  Probably you didn't know it, but I used to have a twin
+sister, Medora, that died when she was only nineteen.  She and I
+looked alike, and were alike, in most everything.  We thought the
+world of each other, used to be together daytimes and sleep
+together nights.  And she used to--er--well, she was different from
+me in one way--she couldn't help it, poor thing--she used to snore
+something dreadful.  I used to scold her for it, poor soul.  Many's
+the time I've reproached myself since, but--"
+
+"For mercy sakes, what's your sister's snorin' got to do with--"
+
+"Hush!  Mrs. Barnes," with intense solemnity.  "As sure as you and
+I live and breathe this minute, my sister Medora came to me last
+night."
+
+"CAME to you!  Why--you mean you dreamed about her, don't you?
+There's nothin' strange in that.  When you took that fourth cup of
+tea I said to myself--"
+
+"HUSH!  Oh, hush!  DON'T talk so.  I didn't dream.  Mrs. Barnes, I
+woke up at two o'clock this morning and--and I heard Medora snoring
+as plain as I ever heard anything."
+
+Thankful was strongly tempted to laugh, but the expression on Miss
+Timpson's face was so deadly serious that she refrained.
+
+"Goodness!" she exclaimed.  "Is that all?  That's nothin'.  A night
+like last night, with the rain and the blinds and the wind--"
+
+"Hush!  It wasn't the wind.  Don't you suppose I know?  I thought
+it was the wind or my imagination at first.  But I laid there and
+listened and I kept hearing it.  Finally I got up and lit my lamp;
+and still I heard it.  It was snoring and it didn't come from the
+room I was in.  It came from the little back room I'd made into a
+study."
+
+Thankful's smile faded.  She was conscious of a curious prickling
+at the roots of her black hair.  The back bedroom!  The room in
+which Laban Eldredge died!  The room in which she herself had
+heard--
+
+"I went into that room," continued Miss Timpson.  "I don't know how
+I ever did it, but I did.  I looked everywhere, but there was
+nobody there, not a sign of anybody.  And still that dreadful
+snoring kept on and on.  And then I realized--" with a shudder, "I
+realized what I hadn't noticed before; that room was exactly the
+size and shape of the one Medora and I used to sleep in.  Mrs.
+Barnes, it was Medora's spirit that had come to me.  Do you wonder
+I can't stay here any longer?"
+
+Thankful fought with her feelings.  She put a hand on the back of
+her neck and rubbed vigorously.  "Nonsense!" she declared, bravely.
+"You imagined it.  Nonsense!  Whoever heard of a snorin' ghost?"
+
+But Miss Timpson only shook her head.  "Good-by, Thankful," she
+said.  "I shan't tell anybody; as I said, I didn't mean to tell
+you.  If--if you hear that anything's happened to me--happened
+sudden, you know--you'll understand.  You can tell Imogene and Mr.
+Daniels and Mr. Hammond that I--that I've gone visiting to my
+cousin Sarah's.  That'll be true, anyway.  Good-by.  You MAY see me
+again in this life, but I doubt it."
+
+She hurried away along the path.  Thankful reentered the house and
+stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, thinking.  Then she
+walked steadily to the foot of the back stairs, ascended them, and
+walked straight to the apartments so recently occupied by the
+schoolmistress.  Miss Timpson's trunks were there and the greater
+part of her belongings.  Mrs. Barnes did not stop to look at these.
+She crossed the larger room and entered the little back bedroom.
+
+The clouds were breaking and the light of the November sun shone
+in.  The little room was almost cheerful.  There were no sounds
+except those from without, the neigh of George Washington from his
+stall, the cackle of the hens, the hungry grunts of Patrick Henry,
+the pig, in his sty beside the kitchen.
+
+Thankful looked and listened.  Then she made a careful examination
+of the room, but found nothing mysterious or out of the ordinary.
+And yet there was a mystery there.  She had long since decided that
+her own experience in that room had been imagination, but now that
+conviction was shaken.  Miss Timpson must have heard something; she
+HAD heard something which frightened her into leaving the boarding-
+house she professed to like so well.  Ghost or no ghost, Miss
+Timpson had gone; and one more source of income upon which Mrs.
+Barnes had depended went with her.  Slowly, and with the feeling
+that not only this world but the next was conspiring to bring about
+the failure of her enterprise and the ruin of her plans and her
+hopes, Thankful descended the stairs to the kitchen and set about
+preparing breakfast.
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+Mr. Caleb Hammond rose that Sunday morning with a partially
+developed attack of indigestion and a thoroughly developed
+"grouch."  The indigestion was due to an injudicious partaking of
+light refreshment--sandwiches, ice cream and sarsaparilla "tonic"--
+at the club the previous evening.  Simeon Baker had paid for the
+refreshment, ordering the supplies sent in from Mr. Chris Badger's
+store.  Simeon had received an unexpected high price for
+cranberries shipped to New York, and was in consequence "flush" and
+reckless.  He appeared at the club at nine-thirty, after most of
+its married members had departed for their homes and only a few of
+the younger set and one or two bachelors, like Mr. Hammond,
+remained, and announced that he was going to "blow the crowd."  The
+crowd was quite willing to be blown and said so.
+
+Mr. Hammond ate three sandwiches and two plates of ice cream, also
+he smoked two cigars.  He did not really feel the need of the
+second cream or the second cigar, but, as they were furnished
+without cost to him, he took them as a matter of principle.  Hence
+the indigestion.
+
+The "grouch" was due partially to the unwonted dissipation and its
+consequences and partly to the fact that his winter "flannels" had
+not been returned by Mrs. Melinda Pease, to whom they had been
+consigned for mending and overhauling.
+
+It was the tenth of November and for a period of twenty-four years,
+ever since his recovery from a severe attack of rheumatic fever,
+Caleb had made it a point to lay aside his summer underwear on the
+morning of November tenth and don a heavy suit.  Weather, cold or
+warm, was not supposed to have any bearing on this change.  The
+ninth might be as frigid as a Greenland twilight and the tenth as
+balmy as a Florida noon--no matter; on the ninth Mr. Hammond wore
+light underwear and shivered; on the tenth he wore his "flannels"
+and perspired.  It was another of his principles, and Caleb had a
+deserved reputation for adhering to principle and being "sot" in
+his ways.
+
+So, when, on this particular tenth of November, this Sabbath
+morning, he rose, conscious of the sandwiches and "tonic," and
+found no suit of flannels ready for him to don, his grouch began to
+develop.  He opened his chamber door a crack and shouted through
+the crack.
+
+"Mrs. Barnes," he called.  "Hi--i, Mrs. Barnes!"
+
+Thankful, still busy in the kitchen, where she had been joined by
+Imogene, sent the latter to find out what was the matter.  Imogene
+returned, grinning.
+
+"He wants his flannels," she announced.  "Wants to know where them
+winter flannels Mrs. Pease sent home yesterday are.  Why, ain't
+they in his room, he says."
+
+Thankful sniffed.  Her experience with Miss Timpson, and the worry
+caused by the latter's leaving, had had their effect upon her
+patience.
+
+"Mercy sakes!" she exclaimed.  "Is that all?  I thought the house
+was afire.  I don't know where his flannels are.  Why should I?
+Where'd Melindy put 'em when she brought 'em here?"
+
+Imogene chuckled.  "I don't think she brought 'em at all," she
+replied.  "She wa'n't here yesterday.  She--why, yes, seems to me
+Kenelm said he heard she was sick abed with a cold."
+
+Thankful nodded.  "So she is," she said.  "Probably the poor thing
+ain't had time to finish mendin' 'em.  It's a good deal of a job, I
+guess.  She told me once that that Hammond man wore his inside
+clothes till they wa'n't anything BUT mendin', just hung together
+with patches, as you might say.  His suits and overcoats are all
+right enough 'most always, but he can't seem to bear to spend money
+for anything underneath.  Perhaps he figgers that patches are good
+as anything else, long's they don't show.  Imogene, go tell him
+Melindy didn't fetch 'em."
+
+Imogene went and returned with her grin broader than ever.
+
+"He says she did bring 'em," she announced.  "Says she always
+brings him his things on the ninth.  He's pretty peppery this
+mornin', seems to me.  Says he don't cal'late to stand there and
+freeze much longer."
+
+"Freeze!  Why, it's the warmest day we've had for a fortni't.  The
+sun's come out and it's cleared up fine, like Indian summer.  Oh,
+DO be still!" as another shout for "Mrs. Barnes" came from above.
+"Here, never mind, Imogene; I'll tell him."
+
+She went into the front hall and called up the stairs.
+
+"Your things ain't here, Mr. Hammond," she said.  "Melindy didn't
+bring 'em.  She's laid up with a cold and probably couldn't get 'em
+ready."
+
+"Course she's got 'em ready!  She always has 'em ready.  She knows
+I want 'em."
+
+"Maybe so, but she ain't always sick, 'tain't likely.  They ain't
+here, anyway.  You won't need 'em today."
+
+"Need 'em?  Course I need 'em.  It's colder than Christmas."
+
+"No, it isn't.  It's almost as warm as September.  Put on two suits
+of your others, if you're so cold.  And come down to breakfast as
+soon as you can.  We've all had ours."
+
+When Mr. Hammond did come down to breakfast his manner was that of
+a martyr.  The breakfast itself, baked beans and fishballs, did not
+appeal to him, and he ate little.  He grumbled as he drank his
+coffee.
+
+"Healthy note, this is!" he muttered.  "Got to set around and
+freeze to death just 'cause that lazy critter ain't finished her
+job.  I pay her for it, don't I?"
+
+Thankful sniffed.  "I suppose you do," she said, adding under her
+breath, "though how much you pay is another thing."
+
+"Is this all the breakfast you've got?" queried Caleb.
+
+"Why, yes; it's what we always have Sunday mornin's.  Isn't it what
+you expected?"
+
+"Oh, I expected it, all right.  Take it away; I don't want no more.
+Consarn it!  I wish sometimes I had a home of my own."
+
+"Well, why don't you have one?  I should think you would.  You can
+afford it."
+
+Mr. Hammond did not reply.  He folded his napkin, seized his hat
+and coat and went out.  When he crossed the threshold he shivered,
+as a matter of principle.
+
+He stalked gloomily along the path by the edge of the bluff.
+Captain Obed Bangs came up the path and they met.
+
+"Hello, Caleb!" hailed the captain.  "Fine weather at last, eh?
+Almost like August.  Injun summer at last, I cal'late.  What you
+got your coat collar turned up for?  Afraid of getting your neck
+sunburned?"
+
+Mr. Hammond grunted and hurried on.  Captain Obed had chosen a poor
+topic if he desired a lengthy conversation.
+
+Mrs. Pease lived at the farther end of the village and when Caleb
+reached there he was met by the lady's niece, Emma Snow.
+
+"Aunt Melindy's real poorly," said Emma.  "She's been so for 'most
+three days.  I'm stayin' here with her till she gets better.  No,
+she ain't had time to do your mendin' yet.  Anyhow it's so nice and
+warm you don't need the things, that's a comfort."
+
+It may have been a comfort to her, but it was not to Caleb.  He
+growled a reply and turned on his heel.  The churchgoers along the
+main road received scanty acknowledgment of their greetings.
+
+"Ain't you comin' to meetin'?" asked Abbie Larkin.
+
+"Naw," snarled Caleb, "I ain't."
+
+"Why not?  And it's such a lovely day, too."
+
+"Ugh!"
+
+"Why ain't you comin' to meetin', Mr. Hammond?"
+
+"'Cause I don't feel like it, that's why."
+
+"I want to know!  Well, you DON'T seem to be in a pious frame of
+mind, that's a fact.  Better come; you may not feel like church,
+but I should say you needed it, if ever anybody did."
+
+Caleb did not deign a reply.  He stalked across the road and took
+the path to the shore.
+
+As he came opposite the Parker cottage he saw Hannah Parker at the
+window.  He nodded and his nod was returned.  Hannah's experience
+was as gloomy as his own.  She did not look happy and somehow the
+idea that she was not happy pleased him; Abbie Larkin had been
+altogether too happy; it grated on him.  He was miserable and he
+wanted company of his own kind.  He stopped, hesitated, and then
+turned in at the Parker gate.
+
+Hannah opened the door.
+
+"Good mornin', Caleb," she said.  "Come in, won't you?  It looks
+sort of chilly outdoor."
+
+This WAS a kindred spirit.  Mr. Hammond entered the Parker sitting-
+room.  Hannah motioned toward a chair and he sat down.
+
+"Mornin', Hannah," said Caleb.  "'Tis chilly.  It'll be a mercy if
+we don't catch our deaths, dressed the way some of us be.  How's
+things with you?"
+
+Miss Parker shook her head.  "Oh, I don't know, Caleb," she
+answered.  "They ain't all they might be, I'm afraid."
+
+"What's the matter?  Ain't you feelin' up to the mark?"
+
+"Oh, yes--yes; I'm feeling well enough in body.  I ain't sick, if
+that's what you mean.  I'm kind of blue and--and lonesome, that's
+all.  I try to bear up under my burdens, but I get compressed in
+spirit sometimes, I can't help it.  Ah, hum a day!"
+
+She sighed and Mr. Hammond sighed also.
+
+"You ain't the only one," he said.  "I'm bluer'n a whetstone
+myself, this mornin'."
+
+"What's the trouble?"
+
+"Trouble?  Trouble enough!  Somethin' happened this mornin' that
+riled me all up.  It--" he paused, remembering that the cause of
+the "rilin'" was somewhat personal, not to say delicate.  "Well--
+well, never mind what it was," he added.  "'Twas mighty aggravatin',
+that's all I've got to say."
+
+Hannah sighed again.  "Ah, hum!" she observed.  "There's
+aggravations enough in this life.  And they generally come on
+account of somebody else, too.  There's times when I wish I didn't
+have any flesh and blood."
+
+"Hey?  Good land!  No flesh and blood!  What do you want--bones?"
+
+"Oh, I don't mean that.  I wish I didn't have any--any relations of
+my own flesh and blood."
+
+"Humph!  I don't know's you'd be any better off.  I ain't got
+nobody and I ain't what you might call cheerful.  I know what's the
+matter with you, though.  That Kenelm's been frettin' you again, I
+suppose."
+
+He had guessed it.  Kenelm that morning had suddenly announced that
+he was to have a day off.  He was cal'latin' to borrow Mrs. Barnes'
+horse and buggy and go for a ride.  His sister promptly declared
+that would be lovely; she was just wishing for a ride.  Whereupon
+Kenelm had hemmed and hawed and, at last, admitted that his company
+for the drive was already provided.
+
+"Oh!" sneered Hannah.  "I see.  You're goin' to take that precious
+inmate of yours along.  And I've got to set here alone at home.
+Well, I should think you'd be ASHAMED."
+
+"What for?  Ain't nothin' in takin' a lady you're keepin' company
+with out drivin', is there?  I don't see no shame in that."
+
+"No, I presume likely YOU don't.  You're way past shame, both of
+you.  And when I think of all I've done for you.  Slaved and cooked
+your meals--"
+
+"Well, you're cookin' 'em yet, ain't you?  I ain't asked you to
+stop."
+
+"I will stop, though.  I will."
+
+"All right, then; heave ahead and stop.  I cal'late my wife'll be
+willin' to cook for me, if it's needful."
+
+"Your wife!  She ain't your wife yet.  And she shan't be.  This
+ridiculous engaged business of yours is--is--"
+
+"Well, if you don't like the engagin', why don't you stop it?"
+
+"Why don't YOU stop it, you mean.  You would if you had the
+feelin's of a man."
+
+"Humph!  And let some everlastin' lawyer sue me out of my last cent
+for damages.  All right, I'll stop it if you say so.  There's
+plenty of room in the poorhouse, they tell me.  How'd you like to
+give us this place and move to the poorhouse, Hannah?"
+
+"But--but, O Kenelm, I can't think of your gettin' married!  I
+can't think of it!"
+
+"Don't think of it.  I ain't thinkin' of it no more'n I can help.
+Why ain't you satisfied with things as they be?  Everything's goin'
+on all right enough now, ain't it?  You and me are livin' together
+same as we have for ever so long.  You're here and I--well, I--"
+
+He did not finish the sentence, but his sister read his thought.
+She knew perfectly well that her brother was finding a measure of
+enjoyment in the situation, so far as his dealings with her were
+concerned.  He was more independent than he had been since she took
+him in charge.  But she realized, too, her own impotence.  She
+could not drive him too hard or he might be driven into marrying
+Imogene.  And THAT Hannah was determined should be deferred as long
+as possible.
+
+So she said no more concerning the "ride" and merely showed her
+feelings by moping in the corner and wiping her eyes with her
+handkerchief whenever he looked in her direction.  After he had
+gone she spent the half-hour previous to Mr. Hammond's arrival in
+alternate fits of rage and despair.
+
+"So Kenelm's been actin' unlikely, has he?" queried Caleb.  "Well,
+if he was my brother he'd soon come to time quick, or be put to bed
+in a hospital.  That's what would happen to HIM."
+
+Miss Parker looked as if the hospital picture was more appealing
+than dreadful.
+
+"I wish he was your brother," she said.  "Or I wish I was independent
+and had a house of my own."
+
+"Huh!  Gosh!  So do I wish I had one.  I've been wishin' it all the
+mornin'.  If I had a home of my own I'd have what I wanted to eat--
+yes, and wear.  And I'd have 'em when I wanted 'em, too."
+
+"Don't they give you good things to eat over at Mrs. Barnes'?"
+
+"Oh, they're good enough maybe, if they're what you want.  But
+boardin's boardin'; 'tain't like your own home."
+
+"Caleb, it's a wonder to me you don't rent a little house and live
+in it.  You've got money enough; least so everybody says."
+
+"Humph!  What everybody says is 'most generally lies.  What would
+be the sense of my hirin' a house?  I'd have to have a housekeeper
+and a good one costs like thunder.  A feller's wife has to get
+along on what he gives her, but a housekeeper--"
+
+He stopped short, seemingly struck by a new and amazing idea.  Miss
+Parker rambled on about the old days when "dear papa" was alive;
+how happy she was then, and so on, with occasional recourse to the
+handkerchief.  Suddenly Caleb slapped his knee.
+
+"It's all right," he said.  "It's fine--and it's commonsense, too.
+Hannah, what's the matter with you and me gettin' married?"
+
+Hannah stared at him.
+
+"Married!" she repeated.  "Me get married!  Who to, for the land
+sakes?  Are you out of your head?"
+
+"Not a mite.  What's the matter with you marryin' me?"
+
+"My soul!  Is this a funny-paper joke, or are you--"
+
+"'Tain't a joke; I mean it.  Is there any reason why we shouldn't
+marry and settle down together, you and me?  I don't see none.  You
+could keep house for me then, and 'twouldn't cost--that is, you
+could look out for me, and I--well, I suppose likely I could look
+out for you, too.  Why not?"
+
+"Why, how you talk, Caleb Hammond!"
+
+"No, I don't talk neither.  I mean it.  You was wishin' for a home
+of your own; so was I.  Let's have one together."
+
+"Well, I swan!  Get married at our--at our age!  I never did hear
+such talk!  We'd be a nice young bride and groom, wouldn't we?  I
+guess East Wellmouth folks would have somethin' to laugh at then."
+
+"Let 'em laugh.  Laughin' don't cost nothin', and, if it does, we
+won't have to pay for it.  See here, Hannah, this ain't any foolish
+front-gate courtin', this ain't.  It's just common-sense business.
+Let's do it.  I will if you will."
+
+Miss Parker shook her head.  The prospect of being Mrs. Caleb
+Hammond was not too alluring.  Caleb's reputation as a husband was
+not, while his wife lived, that of a "liberal provider."  And yet
+this was Hannah's first proposal, and it had come years after she
+had given up hoping for one.  So she prolonged the delicious moment
+as long as possible.
+
+"I suppose you're thinkin' about that brother of yours," suggested
+Mr. Hammond.  "Well, he'll be all right.  'Cordin' to what I've
+heard, and seen myself, he's hangin' around that hired help girl at
+the High Cliff pretty reg'lar these days.  Maybe he'll marry her
+and you'll be left without anybody.  If he don't marry her he can
+come to live along of us--maybe.  If he does he'll mind his p's and
+q's, I tell you that.  He'll find out who's boss."
+
+This speech had an effect.  For the first time Hannah's
+determination wavered.  Kenelm was, although Caleb did not know it,
+actually engaged to marry Imogene.  His sister was even then
+writhing under the humiliation.  And here was an opportunity to get
+even, not only with Kenelm, but with the "inmate."  If she, Hannah,
+were to marry and leave the pair instead of being herself left!
+Oh, the glory of it--the triumphant glory of it!  How she could
+crush her brother!  How she could gloat over and sneer at Imogene!
+The things she might say--she, the wife of a rich man!  Oh,
+wonderful!
+
+"Well, come on, Hannah, come on," urged the impatient Caleb.  "What
+do you say?"
+
+But Miss Parker still shook her head.  "It ain't any use, Caleb,"
+she declared.  "Even if--if I wanted to, how could I tell Kenelm?
+He'd raise an awful fuss.  He'd tell everybody and they--"
+
+"No, he wouldn't.  I'd break his neck if he did. . . .  And--eh--"
+as another idea came to him, "he needn't know till 'twas all over.
+We could get married right off now, and not tell a soul--Kenelm or
+anybody else--till it was done.  Then they could talk or shut up,
+we wouldn't care.  They couldn't change nothin'."
+
+"Caleb Hammond, do you suppose I'd have the face to go to a
+minister in this town and have you tell him we'd come to get
+married?  I'd be so ashamed--"
+
+"Hold on!  We don't have to go to a minister in this town.  There's
+other towns with parsons in them, ain't they?  We could drive over
+somewheres else."
+
+"Everybody'd see us drivin' together."
+
+"What of it?  They see us drivin' to the Cattle Show together,
+didn't they?"
+
+"Yes, and they've talked about it ever since, some of 'em.  That
+Abbie Larkin said--Oh, I can't tell you what she said.  No, I
+shan't do it.  I shouldn't have the face.  And everybody'd ask
+where we was bound, and I'd--I'd be so--so mortified and--and--why,
+I'd act like a reg'lar--er--er--domicile that had run away from the
+Idiots' Home.  No, no, no!  I couldn't."
+
+Mr. Hammond thought it over.  Then he said:
+
+"See here, Hannah, I cal'late we can fix that.  We'll start in the
+night, after all hands have gone to bed.  I'll sneak out about
+quarter to twelve and borrow Thankful's horse and buggy out of her
+barn.  I know where she keeps the key.  I'll be ready here at
+twelve prompt--or not here, maybe, but down in the hollow back of
+your henhouse.  You must be there and we'll drive over to Trumet--"
+
+"Trumet!  Why, Caleb Hammond, I know everybody in Trumet well's I
+do here.  And gettin' to Trumet at three o'clock in the mornin'
+would be--"
+
+"Then we won't go to Trumet.  We'll go to Bayport.  It's quite a
+trip, but that's all the better 'cause we won't make Bayport till
+daylight.  Then we'll hunt up a parson to marry us and come back
+here and tell folks when we get good and ready.  Thankful'll miss
+the horse and team, I cal'late, but I'll fix that; I'll leave a
+note sayin' I took the critter, bein' called away on business."
+
+"Yes, but what will I tell Kenelm?"
+
+"Don't tell him anything, the foolhead.  Why, yes, you can leave a
+note sayin' you've gone up to the village, to the store or
+somethin', and that he must get his own breakfast 'cause you won't
+be back till after he's gone to work over to Thankful's.  That'll
+fix it.  By crimus!  That'll fix it fine.  Look here, Hannah
+Parker; I've set out to do this and, by crimus, I'm goin' to do it.
+Come on now; let's."
+
+Caleb was, as has been said, "sot" in his ways.  He was "sot" now,
+and although Hannah continued to protest and declare she could not
+do such a thing, she yielded at last.  Mr. Hammond left the Parker
+cottage in a triumphant mood.  He had won his point and that had
+pleased him for a time; then, as he began to ponder upon that point
+and its consequences his triumph changed to misgiving and doubt.
+He had had no idea, until that forenoon, of marrying again.  His
+proposal had been made on impulse, on the spur of the moment.  He
+was not sure that he wished to marry Hannah Parker.  But he had
+pleaded and persuaded her into accepting him that very night.  Even
+if he wished to back out, how could he--now?  He was conscious of
+an uneasy feeling that, perhaps, he had made a fool of himself.
+
+He went to his room early in the evening and stayed there, looking
+at his watch and waiting for the rest of the family to retire.  He
+heard Georgie's voice in the room at the end of the hall, where
+Mrs. Barnes was tucking the youngster in for the night.  Later he
+heard Imogene come up the backstairs and, after her, Thankful
+herself.  But it was nearly eleven before Heman Daniels' important
+and dignified step sounded on the front stairs and by that time the
+Hammond nerves were as taut as banjo strings.
+
+It was nearly twelve before he dared creep downstairs and out of
+the back door, the key of which he left in the lock.  Luckily the
+barn was a good distance from the house and Mrs. Barnes and Imogene
+were sound sleepers.  But even with those advantages he did not
+dare attempt getting the buggy out of the barn, and decided to use
+the old discarded carryall, relic of "Cap'n Abner," which now stood
+under the open shed at the rear.
+
+George Washington looked at him in sleepy wonder as he tiptoed into
+the barn and lit the lantern.  To be led out of his stall at
+"midnight's solemn hour" and harnessed was more than George's
+equine reasoning could fathom.  The harnessing was a weird and
+wonderful operation.  Caleb's trembling fingers were all thumbs.
+After a while, however, the harnessing was accomplished somehow and
+in some way, although whether the breeching was where the bridle
+should have been or vice versa was more than the harnesser would
+have dared swear.  After several centuries, as the prospective
+bridegroom was reckoning time, the horse was between the shafts of
+the carriage and driven very carefully along the road to the Parker
+homestead.
+
+He hitched the sleepy animal to a pine tree just off the road and
+tiptoed toward the hollow, the appointed rendezvous.  To reach this
+hollow he was obliged to pass through the Parker yard and, although
+he went on tiptoe, each footstep sounded, in his ears, like the
+crack of doom.  He tried to think of some explanation to be made to
+Kenelm in case the latter should hear and hail him, but he could
+think of nothing more plausible than that he was taking a walk, and
+this was far from satisfactory.
+
+And then he was hailed.  From a window above, at the extreme end of
+the kitchen, came a trembling whisper.
+
+"Caleb!  Caleb Hammond, is that you?"
+
+Mr. Hammond's heart, which had been thumping anything but a wedding
+march beneath the summer under-flannels, leaped up and stuck in his
+throat; but he choked it down and gasped a faint affirmative.
+
+"Oh, my soul and body!  Where HAVE you been?  I've been waitin' and
+waitin'."
+
+"What in time did you wait up there for?  Why don't you come down?"
+
+"I can't.  Kenelm's locked the doors, and the keys are right next
+to his room door.  I can't get down."
+
+Here was an unexpected obstacle.  Caleb was nonplused.
+
+"Go home!" wailed the voice from above.  "Don't stand there.  Go
+HOME!  Can't you SEE it ain't any use?  Go HOME!"
+
+Five minutes before he received this order Mr. Hammond would have
+been only too glad to go home.  Now he was startled and angry and,
+being angry, his habitual stubbornness developed.
+
+"I shan't go home neither," he whispered, fiercely.  "If you can't
+come down I'll--I'll come up and get you."
+
+"Shh--shh!  He'll hear you.  Kenelm'll hear you."
+
+"I don't care much if he does.  See here, Hannah, can't you get
+down nohow?  How about that window?  Can't you climb out of that
+window?  Say, didn't I see a ladder layin' alongside the woodshed
+this mornin'?"
+
+"Yes, there's a ladder there, but--where are you goin'?  Mr.
+Hammond--Caleb--"
+
+But Caleb was on his way to the woodshed.  He found the ladder and
+laboriously dragged it beneath the window.  Kenelm Parker had a
+local reputation for sleeping like the dead.  Otherwise Mr. Hammond
+would never have dared risk the noise he was making.
+
+Even after the ladder had been placed in position, Miss Parker
+hesitated.  At first she flatly refused to descend, asserting that
+no mortal power could get her down that thing alive.  But Caleb
+begged and commanded in agonized whispers, and finally she was
+prevailed upon to try.  Mr. Hammond grasped the lower end of the
+ladder with a grip that brought the perspiration out upon his
+forehead, and the lady, with suppressed screams and ejaculations of
+"Oh, good Lord!" and "Heavens and earth!  What shall I do?" reached
+the ground safe and more or less sound.  They left the ladder where
+it was, and tiptoed fearfully out to the lane.
+
+"Whew!" panted the exhausted swain, mopping his brow.  "I'm clean
+tuckered out.  I ain't done so much work for ten years."
+
+"Don't say a word, Caleb Hammond.  If I ain't got my death of--of
+ammonia or somethin', I miss my guess.  I'm all wheezed up from
+settin' at that open winder waitin' for you to come; and I thought
+you never WOULD come."
+
+As Caleb was helping the lady of his choice into the carryall he
+noticed that she carried a small hand-bag.
+
+"What you got that thing for?" he demanded.
+
+"It's my reticule; there's a clean handkerchief and a few other
+things in it.  Mercy on us!  You didn't suppose I'd go off to get
+married without even a decent handkerchief, did you?  I feel enough
+like a sneakin' ragamuffin and housebreaker as 'tis.  Why I ever
+was crazy enough to--where have you put the horse?"
+
+Mr. Hammond led her to where George Washington was tethered.  The
+father of his country was tired of standing alone in the damp, and
+he trotted off briskly.  The first mile of their journey was
+accomplished safely, although the night was pitch-dark, and when
+they turned into the Bayport Road, which for two-thirds of its
+length leads through thick soft pine and scrub-oak woods, it was
+hard to distinguish even the horse's ears.  Miss Parker insisted
+that every curtain of the carryall--at the back and both sides--
+should be closely buttoned down, as she was fearful of the effects
+of the night air.
+
+"Fresh air never hurts nobody," said Caleb.  "There ain't nothin'
+so good for a body as fresh air.  I sleep with my window open wide
+winter and summer."
+
+"You DO?  Well, I tell you right now, I don't.  I should say not!
+I shut every winder tight and I make Kenelm do the same thing.  I
+don't run any risks from drafts."
+
+Mr. Hammond grunted, and was silent for some little time, only
+brightening up when the lady, now in a measure recovered from her
+fright and the anxiety of waiting, began to talk of the blessings
+that were to come from their independent wedded life in a home of
+their own.
+
+"We'll keep chickens," she said, "because I do like fresh eggs for
+breakfast.  Let's see; this is the way 'twill be; you'll get up
+about five o'clock and kindle the fire, and--"
+
+"Hey?"
+
+"I say you'll get up at five o'clock and kindle the fire."
+
+"ME get up and kindle it?"
+
+"Sartin; you don't expect I'm goin' to, do you?"
+
+"No-o, I suppose not.  It come kind of sudden, that's all.  You
+see, I've been used to turnin' out about seven.  Seldom get up
+afore that."
+
+"Seven!  My soul!   I always have my breakfast et by seven.  Well,
+as I say, you get up at five and kindle the fire, and then you'll
+go out to the henyard and get what eggs there is.  Then--"
+
+"Then I'll come in and call you, and you'll come down and get
+breakfast.  What breakfasts we will have!  Eggs for you, if you
+want 'em, and ham and fried potatoes for me, and pie--"
+
+"Pie?  For breakfast?"
+
+"Sartin.  Laviny Marthy, my first wife, always had a piece of pie
+warmed for me, and I've missed it since.  I don't really care two
+cents for breakfast without pie."
+
+"Well now, Caleb, if you think I'm goin' to get up and warm up pie
+every mornin', let alone fryin' potatoes, and--"
+
+"See here, Hannah!  Seems to me if I'm willin' to turn out at that
+ungodly hour and then go scratchin' around the henhouse to please
+you, you might be willin' to have a piece of pie het up for me."
+
+"Well, maybe you're right.  But I must say--well, I'll try and do
+it.  It'll seem kind of hard, though, after the simple breakfasts
+Kenelm and I have when we're alone.  But--what are you stoppin'
+for?"
+
+"There seems to be a kind of crossroads here," said Caleb, bending
+forward and peering out of the carryall.  "It's so everlastin' dark
+a feller can't see nothin'.  Yes, there is crossroads, three of
+'em.  Now, which one do we take?  I ain't drove to Bayport direct
+for years.  When we went to the Cattle Show we went up through the
+Centre.  Do you know which is the right road, Hannah?"
+
+Hannah peered forth from the blackness of the back seat.  "Now, let
+me think," she said.  "Last time I went to Bayport by this road was
+four year ago come next February.  Sarah Snow's daughter Becky was
+married to a feller named Higgins--Solon Higgins' son 'twas.  No,
+'twa'n't his son, because--"
+
+"Aw, crimus!  Who cares if 'twas his aunt's gran'mother?  What I
+want to know is which road to take."
+
+"Well, seems to me, nigh as I can recollect, that we took the left-
+hand road.  No, I ain't sure but 'twas the right-hand.  There's a
+bare chance that it might have been the middle one, 'cause there
+was trees along both sides.  I know we was goin' to Becky Snow's
+weddin'--"
+
+"Trees 'long it!  There ain't nothin' BUT trees for two square
+miles around these diggin's.  Git dap, you!  I'll take the right-
+hand road.  I think that's the way."
+
+"Well, so do I; but, as I say, I ain't sure.  You needn't be so
+cross and unlikely, whether 'tis or 'tain't."
+
+If the main road had been dark, the branch road was darker, and the
+branches of the trees slapped and scratched the sides of the
+carryall.  Caleb's whole attention was given to his driving, and he
+said nothing.  Miss Parker at length broke the dismal silence.
+
+"Caleb," she said, "what time had we ought to get to Bayport?"
+
+"About four o'clock, I should think.  We'll drive 'round till about
+seven o'clock, and then we'll go and get married.  I used to know
+the Methodist minister there, and--"
+
+"METHODIST minister!  You ain't goin' to a Methodist minister to be
+married?"
+
+"I sartin shouldn't go to no one else.  I've been goin' to the
+Methodist church for over thirty year.  You know that well's I do."
+
+"I snum I never thought of it, or you wouldn't have got me this far
+without settlin' that question.  I was confirmed into the Baptist
+faith when I was twelve year old.  And you must have known that
+just as well as I knew you was a Methodist."
+
+"Well, if you knew I was one you ought to know I'd want a Methodist
+to marry me.  'Twas a Methodist married me afore."
+
+"Humph!  What do you suppose I care who married you before?  I'm
+the one that's goin' with you to be married now; and if I was
+married by anybody but a Baptist minister I wouldn't feel as if I
+was married at all."
+
+"Well, I shan't be married by no Baptist."
+
+"No Methodist shall marry ME."
+
+"Now, look here, Hannah--"
+
+"I don't care, Caleb.  You ain't done nothin' but contradict me
+since we started.  I've been settin' up all night, and I'm tired
+out, and there's a draft comin' in 'round these plaguy curtains
+right on the back of my neck.  I'll get cold and die and you'll
+have a funeral on your hands instead of a weddin'.  And I don't
+know's I'd care much," desperately.
+
+Caleb choked down his own irritation.
+
+"There, there, Hannah," he said, "don't talk about dyin' when you're
+just gettin' ready to live.  We won't fret about the minister
+business.  If worst comes to worst I'll give in to a Baptist, I
+suppose.  One reason I did figger on goin' to a Methodist was that,
+I bein' of that faith, I thought maybe he'd do the job a little
+cheaper for us."
+
+"Cheaper?  What do you mean?  Was you cal'latin' to make a BARGAIN
+with him?"
+
+"No, no, course not.  But there ain't any sense in heavin' money
+away on a parson more'n on anybody else."
+
+"Caleb Hammond, how much do you intend givin' that minister?"
+
+Mr. Hammond stirred uneasily on the seat of the carryall.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," he answered evasively.
+
+"Yes, you do know, too.  How much?"
+
+"I don't know.  Two or three dollars, maybe."
+
+"TWO or three dollars!  My soul and body!  Is two dollars all
+you're willin' to give up to get MARRIED?  Is THAT all the
+ceremony's worth to you?  Two dollars!  My soul!"
+
+"Oh, let up!  I don't care.  I'll--I'll--" after a desperate
+wrestle with his sense of economy.  "I'll give him whatever you
+say--in reason.  Eh! . . .  What's that foolhead horse stoppin' for
+now?  What in the tunket's the matter with him?"
+
+The matter was simply that in his hasty harnessing Mr. Hammond had
+but partially buckled one of the girths, and the horse was now
+half-way out of the shafts, with the larger part of the harness
+well up towards his ears.  Caleb groaningly climbed down from the
+seat, rummaged out and lit the lantern, which he had been
+thoughtful enough to put under the seat before starting, and
+proceeded to repair damages.  This took a long time, and in getting
+back to the carryall he tore a triangular rent in the back of his
+Sunday coat.  He had donned his best clothes to be married in, and,
+to add to his troubles, had left his watch in the fob-pocket of his
+everyday trousers, so they had no means of knowing the time.
+
+"That's a nice mess," he grumbled, taking off his coat to examine
+the tear by the light of the lantern.  "Nice-lookin' rag-bag I'll
+be to get married."
+
+"Maybe I can mend it when we get to Bayport," said Miss Parker.
+
+"What'll you mend it with--pins?"
+
+"No, there's a needle and thread in my reticule.  Wait till we get
+to Bayport and then--"
+
+"Can't mend it in broad daylight ridin up and down the main street,
+can you?  And I'd look pretty shuckin' my coat in the minister's
+parlor for you to patch up the holes in it.  Couldn't you mend it
+now?"
+
+Hannah announced her willingness to try, and the reticule being
+produced, the needle was threaded after numerous trials, and the
+mending began.  Caleb, holding the lantern, watched the operation
+anxiously, his face falling at every stitch.
+
+"I'm afraid I haven't made a good job of it," sighed Hannah, gazing
+sorrowfully at the puckered and wrinkled star in the back of the
+garment.  "If you'd only held that lantern steady, instead of
+jigglin' it round and round so, I might have done better."
+
+Mr. Hammond said nothing, but struggled into his coat, and picked
+up the reins.  He sighed, heavily, and his sigh was echoed from the
+back seat of the carryall.
+
+The road was now very rough, and the ruts were deep and full of
+holes.  George Washington seemed to be stumbling through tall grass
+and bushes, and the carryall jolted and rocked from side to side.
+Miss Parker grew more and more nervous.  After a particularly
+severe jolt she could not hold in any longer.
+
+"Land of love, Caleb!" she gasped.  "Where ARE you goin'!  It
+doesn't seem as if this could be the right road!"
+
+"I don't know whether 'tis or not; but it's too narrow and too dark
+to turn 'round, so we've got to go ahead, that's all."
+
+"Oh, heavens!  What a jounce that was!  Seems to me you're awful
+reckless.  I wish Kenelm was drivin'; he's always so careful."
+
+This was too much.  Mr. Hammond suppressed his feelings no longer.
+
+"I wish to thunder he was!" he roared.  "I wish Kenelm or some
+other dam' fool was here instead of me."
+
+"Caleb HAMMOND!"
+
+"I don't care, Hannah.  You're enough to drive a deacon to swearin'.
+It's been nothin' but nag, nag, nag, fight, fight, fight ever since
+this cruise started.  If--if we row like this afore we're married
+what'll it be afterwards?  Talk about bein' independent!  Git dap
+there!" this a savage roar at George Washington, who had stopped
+again.  "I do believe the idiot's struck with a palsy."
+
+Hannah leaned forward and touched her fellow-sufferer on the arm.
+"Sshh, shh, Caleb!" she said.  "Don't holler so.  I don't blame you
+for hollerin' and--and I declare I don't know as I much blame you
+for swearin', though I never thought I'D live to say a thing like
+that.  But it ain't the horse deserves to be sworn at.  He ain't
+the idiot; the idiots are you and me.  We was both of us out of
+sorts this mornin', I guess--I know I was--and then you come along
+and we talked and--and, well, we both went into this foolish,
+ridiculous, awful piece of silliness without stoppin' to figger out
+whether we really wanted to, or whether we was liable to get along
+together, or anything else.  Caleb, I've been wantin' to say this
+for the last hour or more--now I'm goin' to say it: You turn that
+horse's head around and start right home again."
+
+Mr. Hammond shook his head.
+
+"No," he said.
+
+"I say yes.  I don't want to marry you and I don't believe you want
+to marry me.  Now do you--honest?"
+
+Caleb was silent for a full minute.  Then he drew a deep breath.
+
+"It don't make no difference whether I do or not, fur's I can see,"
+he said, gloomily.  "It's too late to start home now.  I don't know
+what time 'tis, but we must have been ridin' three or four hours--
+seems eight or ten year to me--and we ought to be pretty near to
+Bayport.  If we should turn back now we wouldn't get home till long
+after daylight, and everybody would be up and wantin' to know the
+whys and wherefores.  If we told 'em we'd been ridin' around
+together all night, and didn't give any reasons for it, there'd be
+talk enough to last till Judgment.  No, we've just got to get
+married now.  That's all there is to it."
+
+Hannah groaned as the truth of this statement dawned upon her.
+Caleb gathered the reins in his hands preparatory to driving on,
+when a new thought came to him.
+
+"Say, Hannah," he observed, "I suppose you left that note for
+Kenelm, didn't you?"
+
+Miss Parker uttered a faint shriek.
+
+"Oh, my soul!" she cried.  "I didn't!  I didn't!  I wrote it, but I
+was so upset when I found I couldn't get the doorkey and get out
+that way that I left the note in my bureau drawer."
+
+"Tut, tut!  Huh!  Well, he may find it there; let's hope he does."
+
+"But he won't!  He WON'T!  He never finds anything, even if it's in
+plain sight.  He won't know what's become of me--"
+
+"And he'll most likely have the whole town out lookin' for you.  I
+guess now you see there's nothin' to do but for us to get married--
+don't you?"
+
+"Oh!  Oh!  Oh!" wailed Miss Parker, and burst into tears.
+
+Caleb groaned.  "Git dap!" he shouted to the horse.  "No use
+cryin', Hannah.  Might's well grin and bear it.  The joyful bridal
+party'll now proceed."
+
+But the horse refused to proceed, and his driver, peering forward,
+dimly saw a black barrier in front of him.  He lit the lantern once
+more and, getting out of the carryall, discovered that the road
+apparently ended at a rail fence that barred further progress.
+
+"Queer," he said.  "We must be pretty nigh civilization.  Got to
+Bayport, most likely, Hannah; there seems to be a buildin' ahead of
+us there.  I'm goin' to take the lantern and explore.  You set
+still till I come back."
+
+But this Miss Parker refused to do.  She declared that she would
+not wait alone in those woods for anybody or anything.  If her
+companion was going to explore so was she.  So Mr. Hammond assisted
+her to alight, and after he had taken down the bars, the pair went
+on through a grove to where a large building loomed against the sky.
+
+"A church," said Caleb.  "One of the Bayport churches, I cal'late.
+Wonder which 'tis?"
+
+"There's always a sign on the front of a church," said Hannah.
+"Let's go around front and see."
+
+There were no trees in front of the church, and when they came out
+by the front platform, Miss Parker exclaimed, "Well, I never!  I
+wouldn't believe I'd remember so clear.  This church seems just as
+familiar as if I was here yesterday.  Why, what's the matter?"
+
+Mr. Hammond was standing on the platform, holding his lantern up
+before a gilt-lettered placard by the church door.
+
+"Hannah," he gurgled, "this night's been too much for me.  My
+foolishness has struck out of my brains into my eyes.  I can't read
+straight.  Look here."
+
+Hannah clambered up beside her agitated companion, and read from
+the placard these words:
+
+
+            FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH
+
+      REV. JONATHAN LANGWORTHY, PASTOR
+
+
+"Good land!" she exclaimed.  "Mr. Langworthy!  Why, Mr. Langworthy
+is the minister at Wellmouth Centre, ain't he?  I thought he was."
+
+"He is, but perhaps there's another one."
+
+"No, there ain't--not another Baptist.  And--and this church, what
+little I can see of it, LOOKS like the Wellmouth Centre Baptist
+Church, too; I declare it does! . . .  Where are you goin'?"
+
+Caleb did not reply, neither did he turn back.  Hannah, who did not
+propose to be left alone there in the dark, was hurrying after him,
+but he stopped and when she reached his side she found him holding
+the lantern and peering at an iron gate in a white fence.  His
+face, seen by the lantern light, was a picture of bewildered
+amazement.
+
+"What is it?" she demanded.  "What IS it?"
+
+He did not answer, but merely pointed to the gate.
+
+"Eh?  What--why--why, Caleb, that's--ain't that the Nickerson
+memorial gate? .  . .  It can't be!  But--but it IS!  Why--"
+
+Mr. Hammond was muttering to himself.
+
+"We took the wrong road at the crossin'," he said.  "Then we must
+have switched again, probably when we was arguin' about kindlin'
+the fire; then we must have turned again when the harness broke;
+and that must have fetched us into Lemuel Ellis' wood-lot road that
+comes out--"
+
+"Eh?  Lemuel Ellis' wood-lot?  Why, Lemuel's wood-lot is at--"
+
+"It's at Wellmouth Centre, that's where 'tis.  No wonder that
+church looked familiar.  Hannah, we ain't been nigh Bayport.  We've
+been ridin' round and round in circles through them woods all
+night."
+
+"Caleb HAMMOND!"
+
+Before Caleb could add anything to his astonishing statement the
+silence of the night was broken by the clang of the bell in the
+tower of the church.  It clanged four times.
+
+"WHAT!" exclaimed Caleb.  "Only four o'clock!  It can't be!"
+
+"My soul!" cried Miss Parker.  "only four!  Why--why, I thought
+we'd been ridin' ten hours at least. . . .  Caleb Hammond, you and
+me don't want to find a minister; what we need to look up is a pair
+of guardians to take care of us."
+
+But Mr. Hammond seized her arm.
+
+"Hannah," he cried, excitedly, "do you understand what that means--
+that clock strikin'?  It means that, bein' as we're only five miles
+from home, we can GET home, if we want to, afore anybody's out of
+bed.  You can sneak up that ladder again; I can get that horse and
+team back in Thankful's stable; we can both be in our own beds by
+gettin'-up time and not one soul need ever know a word about this
+foolishness.  If we--"
+
+But Miss Parker had not waited for him to finish; she was already
+on her way to the carryall.
+
+
+At a quarter after seven that morning Thankful knocked at the door
+of her boarder's room.
+
+"Mr. Hammond!" she called.  "Mr. Hammond!"
+
+Caleb awoke with a start.
+
+"Eh?" he said.
+
+"Are you up?  It's most breakfast time."
+
+Caleb, now more thoroughly awake, looked about his room.  It was
+real; he was actually in it--and safe--and still single.
+
+"Yes--yes; all right," he said.  "I'll get right up.  Must have
+overslept myself, I guess.  What--what made you call me?  Nothin'--
+er--nothin's happened, has it?"
+
+"No, nothin's happened.  But you're usually up by seven and, as I
+hadn't heard a sound from you, I was afraid you might be sick."
+
+"No, no; I ain't sick.  I'm feelin' fine.  Has--has Kenelm Parker
+got here yet?"
+
+"Yes, he's here."
+
+"Ain't--ain't said nothin', has he?"
+
+"Said anything?  No.  What do you mean?  What did you expect him to
+say?"
+
+"Nothin', nothin', I--I wondered what sort of a drive he and
+Imogene had yesterday, that's all.  I thought it would be fine to
+hear him tell about it.  You run along, Mrs. Barnes; I'll hurry and
+get dressed."
+
+He jumped out of bed.  He was tired and lame and his head ached--
+but, Oh, he was happy!  He had stabled George Washington and
+reached his room without disturbing anyone.  And, as Kenelm had,
+according to Mrs. Barnes, spoken and appeared as usual, it was
+evident that Hannah Parker, too, had gotten safely and undetected
+to her own apartment.
+
+Thankful knocked at his door again.
+
+"I'm sorry," she said, "but Melindy Pease hasn't sent home your
+mendin' yet.  I'm afraid you'll have to do without your--er--your
+winter things for one more day."
+
+"Hey?  My winter--Oh, yes, yes.  Well, I don't care.  It's warmer
+today than 'twas yesterday."
+
+"Oh no, it isn't; it's a good deal colder.  I hope you won't catch
+cold."
+
+"No, no, I shan't.  I'm feelin' fine."
+
+"Well, thank goodness for that."
+
+"Thank goodness for a good many things," said Mr. Hammond, devoutly.
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+If Kenelm noticed that George Washington seemed unusually tired
+that morning, or that the old carryall behind the barn had some new
+scratches on its sides and wheels, and leaves and pine needles on
+its cushions and floor, he did not mention what he saw.  For a day
+or two both Mr. Hammond and Miss Parker were anxious and fearful,
+but as nothing was said and no questions were asked, they began to
+feel certain that no one save themselves knew of the elopement
+which had turned out to be no elopement at all.  For a week
+Hannah's manner toward her brother was sweetness itself.  She
+cooked the dishes he liked and permitted him to do as he pleased
+without once protesting or "nagging."  She had done comparatively
+little of the latter since the announcement of the "engagement,"
+but now she was more considerate and self-sacrificing than ever.
+If Kenelm was aware of the change he made no comment upon it,
+perhaps thinking it good policy to let well enough alone.
+Gradually the eloping couple began to feel that their secret was
+secure and to cease worrying about it.  But Caleb called no more at
+the Parker cottage and when he and Hannah met they bowed, but did
+not stop to converse.
+
+Miss Timpson's sudden departure from the High Cliff House caused
+less talk than Thankful had feared.  It happened that the "cousin
+Sarah" to whose home Miss Abigail had fled, was seized with an
+attack of grippe and this illness was accepted as the cause of the
+schoolmistress's move.  And Miss Timpson herself kept her word; she
+told no one of the "warning" she had received.  So Thankful was
+spared the gossip and questioning concerning the snoring ghost in
+the back bedroom.  For so much she was grateful, but she missed the
+weekly room rent and the weekly board money.  The financial
+situation was becoming more and more serious for her, and as yet
+Solomon Cobb had not made known his decision in the matter of the
+mortgage.
+
+During the week following Miss Timpson's departure Thankful spent
+several nights in the rooms the former had vacated, lying awake and
+listening for sounds from the back bedroom.  She heard none.  No
+ghost snored for her benefit.  Then other happenings, happenings of
+this world, claimed her attention and she dropped psychical
+research for the time.
+
+The first of these happenings was the most surprising.  One
+forenoon Kenelm returned from an errand to the village bringing the
+morning's mail with him.  There were two letters for Mrs. Barnes.
+One was from Emily and, as this happened to be on top, Thankful
+opened it first.
+
+There was good news in the letter, good news for Georgie and also
+for Mrs. Barnes herself.  Georgie had been enjoying himself hugely
+during his stay in East Wellmouth.  He spent every moment of
+pleasant weather out of doors and his energetic exuberance kept the
+livestock as well as the humans on the "Cap'n Abner place" awake
+and lively.  He fed the hens, he collected the eggs, he pumped and
+carried water for George Washington; and the feeding of Patrick
+Henry was his especial care.  That pig, now a plump and somnolent
+porker, was Georgie's especial favorite.  It was past "hog-killing
+time" in East Wellmouth, but Thankful had given up the idea of
+turning Patrick Henry into spare ribs and lard, at least until her
+lively young relative's visit was at an end.  That end was what
+Georgie feared.  He did not want to go home.  Certainly Thankful
+did not want him to go, and she and Captain Obed--the latter's
+fondness for his "second mate" stronger than ever--wrote to Miss
+Howes, begging her to use her influence with the family to the end
+that Georgie's visit might be prolonged until after Christmas, at
+any rate.
+
+And in Emily's reply, the letter which Kenelm brought from the
+postoffice that morning, the permission was granted.  Georgie might
+stay until New Year's Day.
+
+
+Then [wrote Emily], he must come back with me.  Yes, with me; for,
+you see, I am going to keep my word.  I am coming to spend my
+Christmas vacation with you, just as I said I should if it were
+possible.  There! aren't you glad?  I know you are, for you must be
+so lonely, although one not knowing you as well as I do would never
+guess it from your letters.  You always write that all is well, but
+I know.  By the way, are there any developments in the matter of
+the loan from Mr. Cobb?  I am very glad the renewal of the mortgage
+is to be all right, but I think he should do more than that.  And
+have you been troubled in the other affair, that of your neighbor?
+You have not mentioned it--but have you?
+
+
+Thankful had not been troubled in the "other affair."  That is to
+say, she had not been troubled by E. Holliday Kendrick or his
+attorney.  No move had been made, at least so far as anyone could
+learn, in the project of forcing her to sell out, and Heman Daniels
+declared that none would be made.  "It is one thing to boast," said
+Mr. Daniels, "and another to make good.  My--ahem--er--professional
+rival is beginning to realize, I think, that he has in this case
+bitten off more than he can--er--so to speak, chew.  That young man
+has succeeded in ruining himself in this community and that is all
+he has succeeded in."
+
+John said nothing.  At his new boarding-place, Darius Holt's, he
+answered no questions concerning his plans, and was silent and non-
+communicative.  He kept to himself and made no effort to regain his
+lost popularity or to excuse his action.  Thankful saw him but
+seldom and even Captain Obed no longer mentioned John's name unless
+it was mentioned to him.  Then he discussed the subject with a
+scornful sniff and the stubborn declaration that there was a
+mistake somewhere which would some day be explained.  But his
+confidence was shaken, that was plain, and his optimism assumed.
+He and Mrs. Barnes avoided discussion of John Kendrick and his
+affairs.
+
+Thankful read and reread the letter from Emily Howes.  The news it
+contained was so good that she forgot entirely the fact that there
+was another envelope in the mail.  Only when, as she sprang to her
+feet to rush out into the yard and tell Georgie that his plea for
+an extension of his visit was granted, was her attention called to
+this second letter.  It fell from her lap to the floor and she
+stooped and picked it up.
+
+The first thing she noticed was that the envelope was in a
+remarkably crumpled and dirty condition.  It looked as if it had
+been carried in a pocket--and a not too clean pocket--for many
+days.  Then she noticed the postmark--"Omaha."  The address was the
+last item to claim her attention and, as she stared at the crumpled
+and crooked hand-writing, she gasped and turned pale.
+
+Slowly she sank back into her chair and tore open the envelope.
+The inclosure was a dingy sheet of cheap notepaper covered with a
+penciled scrawl.  With trembling fingers she unfolded the paper and
+read what was written there.  Then she leaned back in the chair and
+put her hand to her forehead.
+
+She was sitting thus when the door of the dining-room opened and a
+voice hailed: "Ahoy there!  Anybody on deck?"
+
+She turned to see Captain Obed Bangs' cheery face peering in at
+her.
+
+"Hello!" cried the captain, entering the room and tossing his cap
+on the table.  "You're here, are you?  I was lookin' for you and
+Imogene said she cal'lated you was aboard ship somewheres, but she
+wa'n't sartin where.  I've come to get that second mate of mine.
+I'm goin' off with a gang to take up the last of my fish weirs and
+I thought maybe the little shaver'd like to go along.  I need help
+in bossin' the fo'mast hands, you see, and he's some consider'ble
+of a driver, that second mate is.  Yes sir-ee!  You ought to hear
+him order 'em to get up anchor.  Ho! ho!  I--Hey?  Why--why, what's
+the matter?"
+
+Thankful's face was still pale and she was trembling.
+
+"Nothin', nothin', Cap'n Bangs," she said.  "I've had a--a surprise,
+that's all."
+
+"A surprise!  Yes, you look as if you had."  Then, noticing the
+letter in her lap, he added.  "You ain't had bad news, have you?"
+
+"No.  No, not exactly.  It's good news.  Yes, in a way it's good
+news, but--but I didn't expect it and--and it has shook me up a
+good deal. . . .  And--and I don't know what to do.  Oh, I don't
+know WHAT I'd ought to do!"
+
+The distress in her tone was so real that the captain was greatly
+disturbed.  He made a move as if to come to her side and then,
+hesitating, remained where he was.
+
+"I--I'd like to help you, Thank--er--Mrs. Barnes," he faltered,
+earnestly.  "I like to fust-rate, if--if I could.  Ain't there--is
+there anything I could do to help?  Course you understand I ain't
+nosin' in on your affairs, but, if you feel like tellin' me, maybe
+I--  Look here, 'tain't nothin' to do with that cussed Holliday
+Kendrick or his meanness, is it?"
+
+Thankful shook her head.  "No," she said, "it isn't that.  I've
+been expectin' that and I'd have been ready for anything he might
+do--or try to do.  But I wasn't expectin' THIS.  How COULD anybody
+expect it?  I thought he was dead.  I thought sure he must be dead.
+Why, it's six year since he--and now he's alive, and he wants--
+What SHALL I do?"
+
+Captain Obed took a step forward.
+
+"Now, Mrs. Barnes," he begged, "I wish you would--that is, you know
+if you feel like it I--well, here I am.  Can't I do SOMETHIN'?"
+
+Thankful turned and looked at him.  She was torn between an intense
+desire to make a confidant of someone and her habitual tendency to
+keep her personal affairs to herself.  The desire overcame the
+habit.
+
+"Cap'n Bangs," she said, suddenly, "I will tell you I've just got
+to tell somebody.  If he was just writin' to say he was all right
+and alive, I shouldn't.  I'd just be grateful and glad and say
+nothin'.  But the poor thing is poverty-struck and friendless, or
+he says he is, and he wants money.  And--and I haven't got any
+money just now."
+
+"I have," promptly.  "Or, if I ain't got enough with me I can get
+more.  How much?  Just you say how much you think he'll need and
+I'll have it for you inside of a couple of hours.  If money's all
+you want--why, that's nothin'."
+
+Thankful heard little, apparently, of this prodigal offer.  She
+took up the letter.
+
+"Cap'n Bangs," said she, "you remember I told you, one time when we
+were talkin' together, that I had a brother--Jedediah, his name
+was--who used to live with me after my husband was drowned?"
+
+"Yes.  I remember.  You said he'd run off to go gold-diggin' in the
+Klondike or somewheres.  You said he was dead."
+
+"I thought he must be.  I gave him up long ago, because I was
+sartin sure if he wasn't dead he'd have written me, askin' me to
+let him come back.  I knew he'd never be able to get along all by
+himself.  But he isn't dead.  He's alive and he's written me now.
+Here's his letter.  Read it, please."
+
+The captain took the letter and slowly read it through.  It was a
+rambling, incoherent epistle, full of smudges where words had been
+scratched out and rewritten, but a pitiful appeal nevertheless.
+Jedediah Cahoon had evidently had a hard time since the day when,
+after declaring his intention never to return until "loaded down
+with money," he had closed the door of his sister's house at South
+Middleboro and gone out into the snowstorm and the world.  His
+letter contained few particulars.  He had wandered far, even as far
+as his professed destination, the Klondike, but, wherever he had
+been, ill luck was there to meet him.  He had earned a little money
+and lost it, earned a little more and lost that; had been in Nome
+and Vancouver and Portland and Seattle; had driven a street car in
+Tacoma.
+
+
+I wrote you from Tacoma, Thankful [the letter said], after I lost
+that job, but you never answered.  Now I am in 'Frisco and I am
+down and out.  I ain't got any good job and I don't know where I
+will get one.  I want to come home.  Can't I come?  I am sorry I
+cleared out and left you the way I done, and if you will let me
+come back home again I will try to be a good brother to you.  I
+will; honest.  I won't complain no more and I will split the
+kindling and everything.  Please say I can come.  Do PLEASE.
+
+
+Then came the appeal for money, money for the fare east.  It was to
+be sent to an address in San Francisco, in care of a person named
+Michael Kelly.
+
+
+I am staying with this Kelly man [concluded Jedediah].  He keeps a
+kind of hotel like and I am doing chores for him.  If you send the
+money right off I will get it I guess before he fires me.  Send it
+QUICK for the Lord sakes.
+
+
+Captain Obed finished the letter.
+
+"Whew!" he whistled.  "He's in hard luck, ain't he?"
+
+Thankful wrung her hands.  "Yes," she answered, "and I must help
+him somehow.  But how I'm goin' to do it just now I don't see.  But
+I must, of course.  He's my brother and I MUST."
+
+"Sartin you must.  We--er--that is, that can be fixed all right.
+Humph!  He sent this to you at South Middleboro, didn't he, and
+'twas forwarded.  Let's see when he wrote it. . . .  Eh?  Why,
+'twas written two months ago!  Where in the world has it been all
+this time?"
+
+"I don't know.  I can't think.  And he says he is in San Francisco,
+and the postmark on that envelope is Omaha, Nebraska."
+
+"Land of love, so 'tis.  And the postmark date is only four days
+back.  Why did he hang on to the thing for two months afore he
+mailed it?  And how did it get to Omaha?"
+
+"I don't know.  All I can think of is that he gave the letter to
+somebody else to mail and that somebody forgot it.  That's all I
+can think of.  I can't really think of anything after a shock like
+this.  Oh, dear!  Oh, dear!  The poor, helpless, incompetent thing!
+He's probably starved to death by this time and it's all my fault.
+I NEVER should have let him go.  What SHALL I do?  Wasn't there
+enough without this?"
+
+For the first time Thankful's troubles overcame her courage and
+self-restraint.  She put her handkerchief to her eyes.
+
+The captain was greatly upset.  He jammed his hands into his
+pockets, took them out again, reached for his own handkerchief,
+blew his nose violently, and began pacing up and down the room.
+Suddenly he seemed to have made up his mind.
+
+"Mrs. Barnes," he said, "I--I--"
+
+Thankful's face was still buried in her handkerchief.
+
+"I--I--" continued Captain Obed.  "Now, now, don't do that.  Don't
+DO it!"
+
+Mrs. Barnes wiped her eyes.
+
+"I won't," she said, stoutly.  "I won't.  I know I'm silly and
+childish."
+
+"You ain't neither.  You're the pluckiest and best woman ever was.
+You're the finest--er--er--  Oh, consarn it, Thankful, don't cry
+any more.  Can't you," desperately, "can't you see I can't stand it
+to have you?"
+
+"All right, Cap'n Bangs, I won't.  Don't you bother about me or my
+worries.  I guess likely you've got enough of your own; most people
+have."
+
+"I ain't.  I ain't got enough.  Do me good if I had more.  Thankful,
+see here; what's the use of your fightin' all these things alone?
+I've watched you ever since you made port here in South Wellmouth
+and it's been nothin' but fight and worry all the time.  What's the
+use of it?  You're too good a woman to waste your life this way.
+Give it up."
+
+"Give it up?"
+
+"Yes, give it up.  Give up this wearin' yourself out keepin'
+boarders and runnin' this big house.  Why don't you stop takin'
+care of other folks and take care of yourself for a spell?"
+
+"But I can't.  I can't take care of myself.  All I have is invested
+in this place and if I give it up I lose everything."
+
+"Yes, yes, I know what you mean.  But what I mean is--is--"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean--I mean why don't you let somebody take care of you?
+That's what I mean."
+
+Thankful turned to stare at him.
+
+"Somebody--else--take care of me?" she repeated.
+
+"Yes--yes.  Don't look at me like that.  If you do I can't say it.
+I'm--I'm havin' a--a hard enough time sayin' it as 'tis.  Thankful
+Barnes, why--don't LOOK at me, I tell you!"
+
+But she still looked at him, and, if a look ever conveyed a meaning,
+hers did just then.
+
+"I ain't crazy," declared Captain Obed.  "I can see you think I am,
+but I ain't.  Thankful, I--  Oh, thunderation!  What is the matter
+with me?  Thankful, let ME take care of you, will you?"
+
+Thankful rose to her feet.  "Obed Bangs!" she exclaimed.
+
+"I mean it.  I've been meanin' it more and more ever since I first
+met you, but I ain't had the spunk to say it.  Now I'm goin' to say
+it if I keel over on the last word.  Thankful, why don't you marry
+me?"
+
+Thankful was speechless.  The captain plunged desperately on.
+
+"Will you, Thankful?" he begged.  "I know I'm an old codger, but I
+ain't in my second childhood, not yet.  I--I'd try mighty hard to
+make you happy.  I haven't got anybody of my own in the world.
+Neither have you--except this brother of yours, and, judgin' from
+his letter and what you say, HE won't take any care; he'll BE a
+care, that's all.  I ain't rich, but I've got money enough to help
+you--and him--and me afloat and comf'table.  Thankful, will you?"
+
+Thankful was still looking at him.  He would have spoken again, but
+she raised her hand and motioned him to silence.
+
+"Obed," she asked, after a moment, "what made you say this to me?"
+
+"What made me say it?  What kept me still so long, you ought to
+ask.  Haven't I come to think more and more of you ever since I
+knew you?  Haven't I been more and more sorry for you?  And pitied
+you?  I--"
+
+She raised her hand again.  "I see," she said, slowly.  "I see.
+Thank you, Obed.  You're so kind and self-sacrificin' you'd do
+anything or say anything to help a--friend, wouldn't you?  But of
+course you can't do this."
+
+"Can't?  Why can't I?  Self-sacrifice be hanged!  Thankful, can't
+you see--"
+
+"Yes.  Oh yes.  I can see. . . .  Now let's talk about Jedediah.
+Do you think--"
+
+"Jedediah be keelhauled!  Will you marry me, Thankful Barnes?"
+
+"Why no, Obed; of course I won't."
+
+"You won't?  Why not?"
+
+"Because--well, because I--I can't.  There, there, Obed!  Please
+don't ask me again.  Please don't!"
+
+Captain Obed did not ask.  He did not speak again for what, to Mrs.
+Barnes, seemed a long, long time.  At length she could bear it no
+longer.
+
+"PLEASE, Obed," she begged.
+
+The captain slowly shook his head.  Then he laughed a short,
+mirthless laugh.
+
+"What an old fool I am!" he muttered.  "What an old fool!"
+
+"Obed, don't talk so!  Don't!  Do you want to make this--
+everything--harder for me?"
+
+He straightened and squared his shoulders.
+
+"Thank you, Thankful," he said, earnestly.  "Thank you for sayin'
+that.  That's the way to talk to me.  I know I'm an old fool, but I
+won't be any more, if I can help it.  Make it harder for you?  I
+guess not!"
+
+"Obed, I'm so sorry."
+
+"Sho! sho!  You needn't be. . . .  I'm all right.  I've been
+dreamin' foolish dreams, like a young feller after a church picnic
+dinner, but I'm awake now.  Yes'm, I'm awake.  Now just you forget
+that I talked in my sleep.  Forget the whole of it and let's get
+back to--to that brother of yours.  We've got to locate him, that's
+the first thing to be done.  I'll send a telegram right off to that
+Kelly man out in 'Frisco askin' if what's-his-name--Jedediah--is
+there yet."
+
+"Obed, you won't--you won't feel hard towards me?  You won't let--
+this--interfere with our friendship?"
+
+"Sho!  Hush, hush, Thankful!  You make me more ashamed of myself
+than ever, and that ain't necessary.  Now the first thing is to
+send that telegram.  If we locate your brother then we'll send him
+a ticket to Boston and some money.  Don't you worry, Thankful;
+we'll get him here.  And don't you fret about the money neither.
+I'll 'tend to that and you can pay me afterwards."
+
+"No, no; of course I shan't let--"
+
+"Yes, you will.  There's some things you can't stop and that's one
+of 'em.  You talked about our friendship, didn't you?  Well, unless
+you want me to believe I ain't your friend, you'll let me run my
+own course this time.  So long, Thankful; I'm off to Chris Badger's
+to send that telegram."
+
+He snatched up his cap and was on his way to the door.  She
+followed him.
+
+"Obed," she faltered, "I--I--  What CAN I say to you?  You are SO
+good!"
+
+"Tut! tut!  Me good?  Don't let Heman Daniels hear you say that.
+He's a church deacon and knows what goodness is.  So long,
+Thankful.  Soon's I hear from Kelly, I'll report."
+
+He hurried from the house.  Thankful watched him striding down the
+path.  Not once did he hesitate or look back.  She turned from the
+door and, returning to her chair by the center table, sat down.
+For a moment she sat there and then, leaning her head upon her arms
+on the table, wept tears of absolute loneliness and despair.
+
+The telegram to Michael Kelly of San Francisco brought an answer,
+but a most unsatisfactory one.  Jedediah Cahoon had not been in the
+Kelly employ for more than six weeks.  Kelly did not know where he
+had gone and, apparently, did not care.  Captain Obed then wired
+and wrote the San Francisco police officials, urging them to trace
+the lost one.  This they promised to do, but nothing came of it.
+The weeks passed and no word from them or from Jedediah himself was
+received.  His letter had come to prove that, at the time it was
+written, he was alive; whether or not he was still alive, or where
+he might be if living, was as great a mystery as ever.  Day after
+day Thankful watched and waited and hoped, but her waiting was
+unrewarded, and, though she still hoped, her hope grew steadily
+fainter; and the self-reproach and the worry greater in proportion.
+
+She and Georgie and Imogene spent Thanksgiving Day alone.  Heman
+Daniels and Mr. Hammond were invited out and Captain Obed, who had
+meant to eat his Thanksgiving dinner at the High Cliff House, was
+called to Boston on business connected with his fish selling, and
+could not return in time.
+
+Early in December Thankful once more drove to Trumet to call upon
+Solomon Cobb.  The question of the renewal of the mortgage she felt
+must remain a question no longer.  But she obtained little
+satisfaction from her talk with the money-lender.  Mr. Cobb's first
+remark concerned the Holliday Kendrick offer to buy the "Cap'n
+Abner place."
+
+"Did he mean it, do you think?" he demanded.  "Is he really so sot
+on buyin' as folks say he is?"
+
+"I'm afraid so."
+
+"Huh!  And he's hired his lawyer--that young cousin of his--Bailey
+Kendrick's son--to make you sell out to him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What's the young feller done about it; anything?"
+
+"No; nothin' that I know of."
+
+"Humph!  Sure of that, be ye?  I hear he's been spendin' consider'ble
+time over to Ostable lately, hangin' round the courthouse, and the
+probate clerk's office.  Know what he's doin' that for?"
+
+"No, I didn't know he had.  How did you know it?"
+
+"I knew.  Ain't much goin' on that I don't know; I make it my
+business to know.  Why don't you sell out to old Holliday?"
+
+"I don't want to sell.  My boardin'-house has just got a good start
+and why should I give it up?  I won't sell."
+
+"Oh, you won't!  Pretty independent for anybody with a mortgage
+hangin' over 'em, ain't ye?"
+
+"Solomon, are you goin' to renew that mortgage when it comes due?"
+
+Mr. Cobb pulled his whiskers.  "I don't know's I am and I don't
+know's I ain't," he said.  "This Kendrick business kind of mixes
+things up.  Might be a good idea for me to foreclose that mortgage
+and sell the place to him at my own price.  Eh?  What do you think
+of that?"
+
+"You wouldn't do it!  You couldn't be so--"
+
+"So what?  Business is business and if he's goin' to put you out
+anyhow, I don't see why I shouldn't get my share of the pickin's."
+
+"But he ain't goin' to put me out."
+
+"He says he is.  Now--now--clear out and don't bother me.  When
+that mortgage falls due I'll let you know what I intend doin' with
+it.  If you pester me now I won't renew anyhow.  Go along home and
+quit your frettin'.  Long's you're there, you BE there.  What more
+do you want?"
+
+There was a good deal more of this sort of thing, but it was all
+quite as unsatisfactory.  Thankful gave it up at last.
+
+"I shan't come here again," she declared desperately.  "If you want
+to see me you can come to my place."
+
+"Humph!"
+
+"Well, you will, or not see me.  Why haven't you been there?  Time
+and time again you have promised to come, but you never have.  I
+shall begin to believe there is some reason why you don't want to
+go into that house."
+
+She was on her way to the door, but Solomon called after her.
+
+"Here!" he shouted.  "Hold on!  What do you mean by that?  Why
+shouldn't I go into that house if I want to?  Why shouldn't I?"
+
+"I don't know; all I know is that you don't seem to want to.  I
+can't say why you don't want to, but--"
+
+"But what?"
+
+"But, maybe, if someone that's dead and gone was here--he could."
+
+"He--he--who?  What?  Hi!  Where you goin'?"
+
+"I'm goin' home."
+
+"No, you ain't--not until you tell me what you mean by--by somebody
+that's dead and gone.  What kind of talk is that?  What do you
+mean?"
+
+"Maybe I don't know what I mean, Solomon; but I think you do.  If
+you don't then your looks belie you, that's all."
+
+She went out of the "henhouse."  As she drove away she saw Mr. Cobb
+peering at her through the window.  He was "weeding" with both
+hands and he looked agitated and--yes, frightened.  Thankful was
+more than ever certain that his mysterious behavior was in some way
+connected with his past dealings with her Uncle Abner, but, not
+knowing what those dealings might have been, the certainty was not
+likely to help her.  And he had not said that he would renew the
+mortgage.
+
+Georgie was the first to meet her when she drove into the yard.  He
+had been spending the day with Captain Obed and had coaxed the
+latter into telling him stories of Santa Claus.  Georgie's mind was
+now filled with anticipations of Christmas and Christmas presents,
+and his faith in Santa, which had been somewhat shaken during his
+year at kindergarten in South Middleboro, was reviving again.  The
+captain and Imogene and Mrs. Barnes all helped in the revival.
+"Christmas loses three-quarters of its fun when old Santa's took
+out of it," declared Captain Obed.  "I know, 'count of havin' been
+a young one myself a thousand year ago or such matter.  This'll
+probably be the second mate's last Santa Claus Christmas, so let's
+keep this one the real thing for the boy."
+
+So he and Imogene and Thankful--yes, even Kenelm--discussed Santa
+for Georgie's benefit and Georgie believed, although his belief was
+not as absolute and unquestioning as it had once been.  He asked a
+great many questions, some of which his elders found hard to
+answer.  His dearest wish was for an air-gun, but somehow Mrs.
+Barnes did not seem to think the wish would be gratified.  She had
+a strong presentiment that the combination of Georgie and an air-
+gun and the chickens might not be a desirable one, especially for
+the chickens.
+
+"But why won't he bring it, Auntie?" demanded Georgie.  "You say he
+brings good boys what they want.  I've been a good boy, ain't I?"
+
+"'Deed you have.  I wouldn't ask for a better one."
+
+"Then why won't Santa bring me the gun?"
+
+"Perhaps he'll think a gun isn't nice for such a little boy to
+have."
+
+"But it is nice.  It's nicer'n anything.  If I'm good and I want it
+I don't see why I can't have it.  I think Santa's mean if he don't
+bring it."
+
+"Oh no, he isn't mean.  Just think how good he is!  He comes to
+every boy and girl--"
+
+"No, he don't."
+
+"Why yes, he does.  To every good little boy and girl."
+
+"He never came to Patsy Leary that lived up on the lots in
+Middleboro.  Patsy said he didn't; he said there wasn't any Santa
+Claus, Patsy did."
+
+"Hum!  Perhaps Patsy wasn't good."
+
+"Gee!  Yes, he was.  He can play baseball better'n any boy I know.
+And he can lick any kid his size; he told me he could."
+
+This crushing proof of young Leary's goodness was a staggerer for
+Thankful.  Before she could think of a reply Georgie asked another
+question.
+
+"You say he'll come down the chimney?" he queried.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"The livin'-room chimney?"
+
+"Yes, probably."
+
+"No, he won't."
+
+"Georgie!"
+
+"How can he?  He's so fat; he's ever so fat in the pictures.  How
+can he get through the stovepipe?"
+
+Mrs. Barnes' answer was evasive and Georgie noticed the evasion.
+However, his trust in his Aunt Thankful was absolute and if she
+said a fat man could get through a stovepipe he probably could.
+But the performance promised to be an interesting one.  Georgie
+wished he might see it.  He thought a great deal about it and,
+little by little, a plan began forming in his mind.
+
+Three days before Christmas Emily Howes arrived at the High Cliff
+House.  She was received with rejoicings.  The young lady looked
+thinner than when she went away and seemed more grave and careworn.
+But when Thankful commented upon her appearance Emily only laughed
+and declared herself quite well and perfectly happy.  She and her
+cousin discussed all topics of common interest except one, that one
+was John Kendrick.  Once or twice Thankful mentioned the young
+man's name, but invariably Emily changed the subject.  It was
+evident that she did not wish to speak of John; also it was, to
+Mrs. Barnes, just as evident that she thought of him.  Thankful
+believed that those thoughts were responsible for the change in her
+relative's look and manner.
+
+Christmas was to be, as Thanksgiving had been, a day free from
+boarders at the High Cliff House.  Caleb was again "asked out," and
+Mr. Daniels, so he said, "called away."  He had spent little time
+in East Wellmouth of late, though no one seemed to know exactly
+where he had been or why.
+
+The day before Christmas was cold and threatening.  Late in the
+afternoon it began to rain and the wind to blow.  By supper time a
+fairly able storm had developed and promised to develop still more.
+Captain Obed, his arms filled with packages, all carefully wrapped
+and all mysterious and not to be opened till the next day, came in
+just after supper.
+
+"Where's that second mate of mine?" whispered the captain,
+anxiously.  When told that Georgie was in the kitchen with Imogene
+he sighed in relief.
+
+"Good!" he said.  "Hide those things as quick as ever you can,
+afore he lays eyes on 'em.  He's sharper'n a sail needle, that
+young one is, and if he can't see through brown paper he can GUESS
+through it, I bet you.  Take em away and put 'em out of sight--
+quick."
+
+Emily hurried upstairs with the packages.  Captain Obed turned to
+Thankful.
+
+"How is she these days?" he asked, with a jerk of the head in the
+direction taken by Miss Howes.
+
+"She's pretty well, or she says she is.  I ain't so sure myself.
+I'm afraid she thinks about--about HIM more than she makes believe.
+I'm afraid matters between them two had gone farther'n we guessed."
+
+Captain Obed nodded.  "Shouldn't wonder," he said.  "John looks
+pretty peaked, too.  I saw him just now."
+
+"You did?  John Kendrick?  He's been out of town for a week or two,
+so I heard.  Where did you see him?"
+
+"At the Centre depot.  I was up to the Centre--er--buyin' a few
+things and he got off the noon train."
+
+"Did you speak to him?"
+
+"Yes, or he spoke to me.  He and I ain't said much to each other--
+what little we've seen of each other lately--but that's been his
+fault more'n 'twas mine.  He sung out to me this time, though, and
+I went over to the platform.  Say," after a moment's hesitation,
+"there's another thing I want to ask you.  How's Heman Daniels
+actin' since Emily come?  Seems more'n extry happy, does he?"
+
+"Why--why, no.  He's been away, too, a good deal; on business, he
+said."
+
+"Humph!  He and--er--Emily haven't been extra thick, then?"
+
+"No.  Come to think of it they've hardly seen each other.  Emily
+has acted sort of--sort of queer about him, too.  She didn't seem
+to want to talk about him more'n she has about John."
+
+"Humph!  That's funny.  I can't make it out.  You see Heman got on
+that same train John got off.  He was comin' along the depot
+platform just as I got to it.  And the depot-master sung out to
+him."
+
+"The depot-master?  Eben Foster, you mean?"
+
+"Yup.  He sung out, 'Congratulations, Heman,' says he."
+
+"'What you congratulatin' him for?' says I.
+
+"'Ain't you heard?' says he.  'He's engaged to be married'."
+
+Thankful uttered an exclamation.
+
+"Engaged!" she repeated.  "Mr. Daniels engaged--to be married?"
+
+"So Eben said.  I wanted to ask a million questions, of course, but
+John Kendrick was right alongside me and I couldn't.  John must
+have heard it, too, and it did seem to me that he looked pretty
+well shook up, but he wa'n't any more shook than I was.  I thought--
+Well, you see, I thought--"
+
+Thankful knew what he had thought.  She also was "shaken up."
+
+"I don't believe it," she cried.  "If--if--it can't he HER.  Why,
+she would have told me, I'm sure.  Obed, you don't think--"
+
+"I don't know what to think.  Heman's been writin' her pretty
+reg'lar, I know that, 'cause Chris Badger told me so a week after
+she'd gone.  I don't know, Thankful; one thing's sartin, Heman's
+kept his engagement mighty quiet.  How Eben learned of it I don't
+know, but nobody in East Wellmouth knows, for I've been soundin'
+ever since I struck here."
+
+Thankful was greatly troubled.  "I HOPE it ain't true," she cried.
+"I suppose he's all right, but--but I didn't want Emily to marry
+him."
+
+"Neither did I.  Perhaps she ain't goin' to.  Perhaps it's just a
+round-the-stove lie, like a shipload of others that's set afloat
+every day.  But, from somethin' John Kendrick said to me on that
+platform I knew he heard what Eben said."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"'Cause he as much as told me so.  'Is it true?' says he.
+
+"'I don't know,' says I.  'First I'd heard of it, if 'tis.'
+
+"He just nodded his head and seemed to be thinkin'.  When he did
+speak 'twas more to himself than to me.  'Well,' says he, 'then
+that settles it.  I can do it now with a clear conscience.'
+
+"'Do what?' I asked him.
+
+"'Oh, nothin',' he says.  'Cap'n Obed, are you goin' to be busy all
+day tomorrow?  I know it's Christmas, of course; but are you?'
+
+"'Not so busy it'll wreck my nerves keepin' up with my dates,'
+says I.  'Why?'
+
+"'Can you spare a half-hour or so to come 'round to my office at--
+well, say two tomorrow afternoon?  I've got a little business of my
+own and I'd like to have you there.  Will you come?'
+
+"'Sartin,' I told him.
+
+"'Of course, if you're afraid of the moral leprosy--'
+
+"'I ain't.'
+
+"'Then I'll look for you,' says he, and off he went.  I ain't seen
+him since.  He come down along of Winnie S. and I had one of Chris
+Badger's teams.  Now WHAT do you cal'late it all means?"
+
+"I don't know.  I don't know.  But I can't think Emily--  Hush!
+she's comin'."
+
+Emily entered the room and Captain Obed began philosophically
+concerning the storm, which he declared was "liable to be a
+hooter."
+
+He went away soon after.  At the door, when he and Mrs. Barnes were
+alone, he whispered, "Ain't changed your mind, have you, Thankful?
+About--about what I said to you that day?"
+
+"Obed, please!  You said you wouldn't."
+
+"All right, all right.  Well, good night.  I'll be around tomorrow
+to wish you and Emily and the second mate a merry Christmas.  Good
+night, Thankful."
+
+After he had gone Thankful and Emily assisted Georgie in hanging up
+his stocking and preparing for bed.  The boy seemed willing to
+retire, a most unusual willingness for him.  His only worry
+appeared to be concerning Santa Claus, whom he feared might be
+delayed in his rounds by the storm.
+
+"He'll be soaked, soppin' wet, won't he?" he asked anxiously.
+
+"Oh, he won't mind.  Santa Claus don't mind this kind of weather.
+He lives up at the North Pole, so folks say."
+
+"Yes.  Won't the chimney soot all stick to him when he's wet?
+He'll be a sight, won't he?"
+
+"Perhaps so, but he won't mind that, either.  Now, you go to bed,
+Georgie, like a good boy."
+
+"I'm a-goin'.  Say, Aunt Thankful, will the soot come all off on my
+presents?"
+
+They got him into bed at last and descended to the living-room.
+The storm was worse than ever.  The wind howled and the rain beat.
+Emily shivered.
+
+"Mercy!  What a night!" she exclaimed.  "It reminds me of our first
+night in this house, Auntie."
+
+"Does; that's a fact.  Well, I hope there's nobody prowlin' around
+lookin' for a place to put their head in, the way we were then.
+I--what's that?"
+
+"What?  What, Auntie?  I didn't hear anything."
+
+"I thought I did.  Sounded as if somebody was--and they are!
+Listen!"
+
+Emily listened.  From without, above the noise of the wind and rain
+and surf, came a shout.
+
+"Hi!" screamed a high-pitched voice.  "Hi!  Let me in.  I--I'm
+drownin'."
+
+Thankful rushed to the door and, exerting all her strength, pushed
+it open against the raging storm.
+
+"There's nobody here," she faltered.
+
+"But--but there is, Auntie.  I heard someone.  I--"
+
+She stopped, for, out of the drenched darkness staggered a figure,
+the figure of a man.  He plunged across the threshold, tripped over
+the mat and fell in a heap upon the floor.
+
+Emily shrieked.  Mrs. Barnes pulled the door shut and ran to the
+prostrate figure.
+
+"Who is it?" she asked.  "Who IS it?  Are you hurt?"
+
+The figure raised its head.
+
+"Hurt!" it panted.  "It's a wonder I ain't dead.  What's the matter
+with ye?  Didn't you hear me yellin' for you to open that door?"
+
+Thankful drew a long breath.
+
+"For mercy sakes!" she cried.  "Solomon Cobb!  WHAT are you doin'
+over here a night like this?"
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Mr. Cobb slowly raised his head.  He looked about him in a
+bewildered way, and then his gaze fixed itself upon Mrs. Barnes.
+
+"What--why--YOU!" he gasped.
+
+"Eh?" stammered Thankful, whose surprise and bewilderment were
+almost as great as his.  "Eh?  What?"
+
+"You?" repeated Solomon.  "What--what are you doin' here?"
+
+"What am I doin' here?  What am I doin'?"
+
+"Yes."  Then, after another stare about the room, he added: "This
+ain't Kenelm Parker's house?  Whose house is it?"
+
+"It's my house, of course.  Emily, go and fetch some--some water or
+somethin'.  He's out of his head."
+
+Emily hurried to the kitchen, Thankful hastened to help the
+unexpected visitor to his feet.  But the visitor declined to be
+helped.
+
+"Let me alone," he roared.  "Let me be.  I--I want to know whose
+house this is?"
+
+"It's my house, I tell you.  You ought to know whose house it is.
+Land sakes!  You and I have had talk enough about it lately.  Don't
+you know where you are?  What are you sittin' there on the floor
+for?  Are you hurt?"
+
+Slowly Mr. Cobb rose to his feet.
+
+"Do you mean to tell me," he demanded, "that this is--is Abner's
+place?  How'd I get here?"
+
+"I don't know.  I ain't hardly had time to make sure you are here
+yet.  And I'm sartin YOU ain't sure.  That was an awful tumble you
+got.  Seems as if you must have hurt yourself.  And you're soppin'
+wet through!  What in the WORLD?"
+
+She moved toward him again, but he waved her away.
+
+"Let me alone!" he ordered.  "I was headin' for Kenelm Parker's.
+How'd I get here?"
+
+"I tell you I don't know.  I suppose you lost your way.  No wonder,
+such a night's this.  Set down.  Let me get you somethin' hot to
+drink.  Come out in the kitchen by the cookstove.  Don't--"
+
+"Hush up!  Let me think.  I never see such a woman to talk.  I--I
+don't see how I done it.  I left Chris Badger's and came across the
+fields and--"
+
+"And you took the wrong path, I guess, likely.  Did you WALK from
+Chris Badger's?  Where's your horse and team?  You didn't walk from
+the Centre, did you?"
+
+"'Course I didn't.  Think I'm a dum fool?  My horse fell down and
+hurt his knee and I left him in Badger's barn.  I cal'lated to go
+to Kenelm's and put up over night.  I--"
+
+He was interrupted by Emily, who entered with a glass in her hand.
+
+"Here's the water, Auntie," she said.  "Is he better now?"
+
+"Better?" snorted Solomon.  "What's the matter with you?  I ain't
+sick.  What you got in that tumbler?  Water!  What in time do I
+want of any more water?  Don't I look as if I'd had water enough to
+last me one spell?  I'm--consarn it all, I'm a reg'lar sponge!  How
+far off is Kenelm's from here?  How long will it take me to get
+there?"
+
+Thankful answered, and her answer was decisive.
+
+"I don't know," she said, "but I do know you ain't goin' to try to
+get anywhere 'till mornin'.  You and I ain't been any too lovin',
+Solomon Cobb, but I shan't take the responsibility of your dyin' of
+pneumonia.  You'll stay right here, and the first thing I'll do is
+head off that chill you've got this very minute."
+
+There was no doubt about the chill.  Solomon's face and hands were
+blue and he was shaking from head to foot.  But his determination
+was unshaken.  He strode to the door.
+
+"How do I get to Parker's?" he demanded.
+
+"I tell you you mustn't go to Parker's or anywhere else.  You're
+riskin' your life."
+
+Mr. Cobb did not answer.  He lifted the latch and pulled the door
+open.  A howling gust of wind-driven rain beat in upon him,
+drenching the carpet and causing the lamp to flicker and smoke.
+For a moment Solomon gazed out into the storm; then he relinquished
+his hold and staggered back.
+
+"I--I can't do it!" he groaned.  "I've GOT to stay here!  I've GOT
+to!"
+
+Thankful, exerting all her strength, closed the door and locked it.
+"Indeed you've got to," she declared.  "Now go out into the kitchen
+and set by the stove while I heat a kettle and make you some ginger
+tea or somethin'."
+
+Solomon hesitated.
+
+"He must, Aunt Thankful," urged Emily; "he really must."
+
+The visitor turned to stare at her.
+
+"Who are you?" he demanded, ungraciously.  Then, as another chill
+racked him from head to foot, he added: "I don't care.  Take me
+somewheres and give me somethin'--ginger tea or--or kerosene or
+anything else, so it's hot.  I--I'm--sho--oo--ook all to--pi--ic--
+ces."
+
+They led him to the kitchen, where Thankful prepared the ginger
+tea.  During its preparation she managed to inform Emily concerning
+the identity of their unexpected lodger.  Solomon, introduced to
+Miss Howes, merely grunted and admitted that he had "heard tell" of
+her.  His manner might have led a disinterested person to infer
+that what he had heard was not flattering.  He drank his tea, and
+as he grew warmer inside and out his behavior became more natural,
+which does not mean that it was either gracious or grateful.
+
+At length he asked what time it was.  Thankful told him.
+
+"I think you'd better be gettin' to bed, Solomon," she suggested.
+"I'll hunt up one of Mr. Caleb Hammond's nightshirts, and while
+you're sleepin' your wet clothes can be dryin' here by the
+cookstove."
+
+Solomon grunted, but he was, apparently, willing to retire.  Then
+came the question as to where he should sleep.  Emily offered a
+suggestion.
+
+"Why don't you put him in the back room, Auntie," she said.  "The
+one Miss Timpson used to have.  That isn't occupied now and the bed
+is ready."
+
+Thankful hesitated.  "I don't know's he'd better have that room,
+Emily," she said.
+
+"Why not?  I'm sure it's a very nice room."
+
+"Yes, I know it is, but--"
+
+"But what?"
+
+Mr. Cobb had a remark to make.
+
+"Well, come on, come on," he said, testily.  "Put me somewheres and
+do it quick.  Long's I've GOT to sleep in this house I might's well
+be doin' it.  Where is this room you're talkin' about?  Let's see
+it."
+
+Emily took the lamp and led the way up the back stairs.  Solomon
+followed her and Thankful brought up the rear.  She felt a curious
+hesitancy in putting even her disagreeable relative in that room on
+this night.  Around the gables and upon the roof the storm whined
+and roared as it had the night when she first explored that upper
+floor.  And she remembered, now, that it had stormed, though not as
+hard, the night when Miss Timpson received her "warning."  If there
+were such things as ghosts, and if the little back bedroom WAS
+haunted, a night like this was the time for spectral visitations.
+She had half a mind to give Mr. Cobb another room.
+
+But, before she could decide what to do, before the struggle
+between her common-sense and what she knew were silly forebodings
+was at an end, the question was decided for her.  Solomon had
+entered the large room and expressed his approval of it.
+
+"This'll do first rate," he said.  "Why didn't you want to put me
+in here?  Suppose you thought 'twas too good for me, eh?  Well, it
+might be for some folks, but not for me.  What's that, a closet?"
+
+He was pointing to the closed door of the little room, the one
+which Miss Timpson had intended using as a study.  Thankful had,
+after her last night of fruitless spook hunting, closed the door
+and locked it.
+
+"What's this door locked for?" asked Mr. Cobb, who had walked over
+and was trying the knob.
+
+"Oh, nothing; it's just another empty room, that's all.  There's
+nothin' in it."
+
+"Humph!  Is that so?  What do you lock up a room with nothin' in it
+for?"  He turned the key and flung the door open.  "Ugh!" he
+grunted, in evident disappointment.  "'Tis empty, ain't it?  Well,
+good night."
+
+Emily, whose face expressed a decided opinion concerning the
+visitor, walked out into the hall.  Thankful remained.
+
+"Solomon," she said, in a whisper, "tell me.  Have you made up your
+mind about that mortgage?"
+
+"Um?  No, I ain't.  Part of what I came over here today for was to
+find out a little more about this property and about Holliday
+Kendrick's offer for it.  I may have a talk with him afore I decide
+about renewin' that mortgage.  It looks to me as if 'twould be
+pretty good business to dicker with him.  He's got money, and if I
+can get some of it, so much the better for me."
+
+"Solomon, you don't mean--"
+
+"I don't know what I mean yet, I tell ye.  But I do tell you this:
+I'm a business man and I know the value of money.  I worked hard
+for what I got; 'twa'n't left me by nobody, like some folks's I
+hear of.  Don't ask me no more questions.  I'll see old Kendrick
+tomorrow, maybe; he's expected down."
+
+"He is?  Mr. Holliday Kendrick?  How do you know?"
+
+"I know 'cause I found out, same as I usually find out things.
+Chris Badger got a telegram through his office from Holliday to
+John Kendrick sayin' he'd come on the noon train."
+
+"But why should he come?  And on Christmas day?"
+
+"I don't know.  Probably he ain't so silly about Christmas as the
+average run of idiots.  He's a business man, too.  There!  Good
+night, good night.  Leave me alone so's I can say my prayers and
+turn in.  I'm pretty nigh beat out."
+
+"And you won't tell me about that mortgage?"
+
+"No.  I'll tell you when my mind's made up; that ain't yet."
+
+Thankful turned to go.  At the threshold she spoke once more.
+
+"I wonder what you say in those prayers of yours, Solomon," she
+observed.  "I should imagine the Lord might find 'em interestin'."
+
+"I'm glad I said it, Emily," she told her cousin, who was awaiting
+her in her bedroom.  "I presume likely it'll do more harm than
+good, but it did ME good while I was sayin' it.  The mean, stingy
+old hypocrite!  Now let's go downstairs and fill Georgie's
+stockin'."
+
+But that ceremony, it appeared, must be deferred.  Georgie was
+still wide-awake.  He called to Emily to ask if the man who had
+come was Santa Claus.
+
+"The little rascal," chuckled Thankful.  "Well," with a sigh,
+"he'll never make a worse guess if he lives to be as old as
+Methuselah's grandmarm.  Emily, you sneak down and fetch the
+stockin' and the presents up here to my room.  We'll do the fillin'
+here and hang up the stockin' in the mornin' afore he gets up."
+
+While they were filling the stocking and tying the packages
+containing gifts too bulky to be put in it Miss Howes cross-
+questioned her cousin.  Emily had been most unfavorably impressed
+with Mr. Cobb during this, her first, meeting with him, and her
+suspicions concerning Thankful's financial affairs, already aroused
+by the lady's reticence, were now active.  She questioned and,
+after a time, Thankful told her, first a little and then all the
+truth.
+
+"I didn't mean to tell you, Emily," she said, tearfully.  "I didn't
+mean to tell a soul, but I--I just couldn't keep it to myself any
+longer.  If he doesn't renew that mortgage--and goodness knows what
+he'll do after he talks with Mr. Holliday Kendrick--I--I don't see
+how I can help losin' everything.  It's either that or sell out,
+and I don't want to sell--Oh, I don't!  I know I can make a go of
+this place of mine if I have another year of it.  I KNOW I can."
+
+Emily was very much excited and fiercely indignant.
+
+"The beast!" she cried, referring to the pious occupant of the back
+bedroom; "the mean, wicked, miserable old miser!  To think of his
+being a relative of yours, Aunt Thankful, and treating you so!  And
+accepting your hospitality at the very time when he is considering
+taking your home away from you!"
+
+Thankful smiled ruefully.  "As to that, Emily," she said, "I ain't
+greatly surprised.  Judgin' by what I've seen of Sol Cobb, I should
+say 'twas a part of his gospel to accept anything he can get for
+nothin'.  But how he can have the face to pray while he's doin' it
+I don't see.  What kind of a God does he think he's prayin' to?  I
+should think he'd be scared to get down on his knees for fear he'd
+never be let up again.  Well, if there IS a ghost in that room I
+should say this was its chance."
+
+"A ghost?  What are you talking about, Auntie?"
+
+"Eh?  Oh, nothin', nothin'.  Did I say 'ghost'?  I didn't realize
+what I said, I guess."
+
+"Then why did you say it?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know. . . .  There, there, don't let's get any more
+foolish than we can help.  Let's go to bed.  We'll have to turn out
+awful early in the mornin' to get Georgie's stockin' hung up and
+his presents ready.  Now trot off to bed, Emily."
+
+"Aunt Thankful, you're hiding something from me.  I know you are."
+
+"Now, Emily, you know I wouldn't--"
+
+"Yes, you would.  At least, you have.  All this time you have been
+deceiving me about that mortgage.  And now I think there is
+something else.  What did you mean by a ghost in that room?"
+
+"I didn't mean anything.  There ain't any ghost in that room--the
+one Solomon's in."
+
+"In THAT room?  Is there one in another room?"
+
+"Now, Emily--"
+
+"Aunt Thankful, there is something strange in some room; don't deny
+it.  You aren't accustomed to deceiving people, and you can't
+deceive me now.  Tell me the truth."
+
+"Well, Emily, it's all such perfect foolishness.  You don't believe
+in ghosts, do you?"
+
+"Of course I don't."
+
+"Neither do I.  Whatever it is that snores and groans in that
+little back room ain't--"
+
+"AUNTIE!  What DO you mean?"
+
+Thankful was cornered.  Her attempts at evasion were useless and,
+little by little, Emily drew from her the story of the little back
+bedroom, of her own experience there the night of their first
+visit, of what Winnie S. had said concerning the haunting of the
+"Cap'n Abner place," and of Miss Timpson's "warning."  She told it
+in a low tone, so as not to awaken Georgie, and, as she spoke, the
+wind shrieked and wailed and groaned, the blinds creaked, the water
+dripped and gurgled in the gutters, and the shadows outside the
+circle of light from the little hand lamp were black and
+threatening.  Emily, as she listened, felt the cold shivers running
+up and down her spine.  It is one thing to scoff at superstition in
+the bright sunlight; it is quite another to listen to a tale like
+this on a night like this in a house a hundred years old.  Miss
+Howes scoffed, it is true, but the scoffing was not convincing.
+
+"Nonsense!" she said, stoutly.  "A ghost that snores?  Who ever
+heard of such a thing?"
+
+"Nobody ever did, I guess," Thankful admitted.  "It's all too silly
+for anything, of course.  I KNOW it's silly; but, Emily, there's
+SOMETHIN' queer about that room.  I told you what I heard;
+somethin' or somebody said, 'Oh, Lord!' as plain as ever I heard it
+said.  And somethin' or somebody snored when Miss Timpson was
+there.  And, of course, when they tell me how old Mr. Eldredge
+snored in that very room when he was dyin', and how Miss Timpson's
+sister snored when SHE was sick, it--it--"
+
+"Oh, stop, Auntie!  You will have ME believing in--in things, if
+you keep on.  It's nonsense and you and I will prove it so before I
+go back to Middleboro.  Now you must go to bed."
+
+"Yes, I'm goin'.  Well, if there is a ghost in that room it'll have
+its hands full with Sol Cobb.  He's a tough old critter, if ever
+there was one.  Good night, Emily."
+
+"Good night, Aunt Thankful.  Don't worry about the--ha! ha!--ghost,
+will you?"
+
+"No, I've got enough to worry about this side of the grave. . . .
+Mercy! what's the matter?"
+
+"Nothing!  I--I thought I heard a noise in--in the hall.  I didn't
+though."
+
+"No, course you didn't.  Shall I go to your room with you?"
+
+"No indeed!  I--I should be ashamed to have you.  Where is
+Imogene?"
+
+"She's up in her room.  She went to bed early.  Goodness!  Hear
+that wind.  It cries like--like somethin' human."
+
+"It's dreadful.  It is enough to make anyone think. . . .  There!
+If you and I talk any longer we shall both be behaving like
+children.  Good night."
+
+"Good night, Emily.  Is Georgie asleep at last?"
+
+"I think so.  I haven't heard a sound from him.  Call me early,
+Auntie."
+
+Thankful lit her own lamp; Emily took the one already lighted and
+hastened down the hall.  Thankful shut the door and prepared for
+bed.  The din of the storm was terrific.  The old house shook as if
+it were trembling with fright and screaming in the agony of
+approaching dissolution.  It was a long time before Thankful fell
+asleep, but at last she did.
+
+She was awakened by a hand upon her arm and a voice whispering in
+her ear.
+
+"Auntie!" whispered Emily.  "Auntie, wake up!  Oh, DO wake up!"
+
+Thankful was broad awake in a moment.  She sat up in bed.  The room
+was in black darkness, and she felt rather than saw Miss Howes
+standing beside her.
+
+"What is it, Emily?" she cried.  "What is the matter?"
+
+"Hush, hush!  Don't speak so loud.  Get up!  Get up and light the
+lamp."
+
+Thankful sprang out of bed and hunted for the matchbox.  She found
+it after a time and the lamp was lighted.  Emily, wearing a wrapper
+over her night clothes, was standing by the door, apparently
+listening.  Her face was white and she was trembling.
+
+"What IS it?" whispered Thankful.
+
+"Hush!  I don't know what it is.  Listen!"
+
+Thankful listened.  All she heard were the noises of the storm.
+
+"I don't hear anything," she said.
+
+"No--no, you can't hear it from here.  Come out into the hall."
+
+Cautiously and on tiptoe she led the way to the hall and toward the
+head of the front stairs.  There she seized her cousin's arm and
+whispered in her ear.
+
+"Listen--!" she breathed.
+
+Thankful listened.
+
+"Why--why," she whispered, "there's somebody down in the livin'-
+room!  Who is it?"
+
+"I don't know.  There are more than one, for I heard them talking.
+Who CAN it be?"
+
+Thankful listened again.
+
+"Where's Georgie?" she whispered, after a moment.
+
+"In his room, I suppose. . . .  What?  You don't think--"
+
+Thankful had tiptoed back to her own room and was returning with
+the lamp.  Together they entered Georgie's bed chamber.  But bed
+and room were empty.  Georgie was not there.
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Georgie had gone to bed that Christmas Eve with a well-defined plan
+in his small head.  He knew what he intended doing and how he meant
+to do it.  The execution of this plan depended, first of all, upon
+his not falling asleep, and, as he was much too excited to be in
+the least sleepy, he found no great difficulty in carrying out this
+part of his scheme.
+
+He had heard the conversation accompanying Mr. Cobb's unexpected
+entrance and had waited anxiously to ask concerning the visitor's
+identity.  When assured by his sister that Santa had not arrived
+ahead of time he settled down again to wait, as patiently as he
+could, for the "grown-ups" to retire.
+
+So he waited and waited.  The clock struck ten and then eleven.
+Georgie rose, tiptoed to his door and listened.  There were no
+sounds except those of the storm.  Then, still on tiptoe, the boy
+crept along the hall to the front stairs, down these stairs and
+into the living-room.  The fire in the "airtight" stove showed red
+behind the isinglass panes, and the room was warm and comfortable.
+
+Georgie did not hesitate; his plan was complete to the minutest
+details.  By the light from the stove he found his way to the sofa
+which stood against the wall on the side of the room opposite the
+windows.  There was a heavy fringe on the sofa which hung almost to
+the floor.  The youngster lay flat upon the floor and crept under
+the fringe and beneath the sofa.  There he lay still.  Aunt
+Thankful and Captain Obed and Imogene had said there was a Santa
+Claus; the boy in South Middleboro had said there was none; Georgie
+meant to settle the question for himself this very night.  This was
+his plan: to hide in that living-room and wait until Santa came--if
+he came at all.
+
+It was lonely and dark and stuffy under the sofa and the beat of
+the rain and the howling gale outside were scary sounds for a
+youngster no older than he.  But Georgie was plucky and determined
+beyond his years.  He was tempted to give up and scamper upstairs
+again, but he fought down the temptation.  If no Santa Claus came
+then he should know the Leary boy was right.  If he did come then--
+well then, his only care must be not to be caught watching.
+
+Twelve o'clock struck; Georgie's eyes were closing.  He blinked
+owl-like under the fringe at the red glow behind the isinglass.
+His head, pillowed upon his outstretched arms, felt heavy and
+drowsy.  He must keep awake, he MUST.  So, in order to achieve this
+result, he began to count the ticks of the big clock in the corner.
+One--two--three--and so on up to twenty-two.  He lost count then;
+his eyes closed, opened, and closed again.  His thoughts drifted
+away from the clock, drifted to--to . . .
+
+His eyes opened again.  There was a sound in the room, a strange,
+new sound.  No, it was not in the room, it was in the dining-room.
+He heard it again.  Someone in that dining-room was moving
+cautiously.  The door between the rooms was open and he could hear
+the sound of careful footsteps.
+
+Georgie was frightened, very much frightened.  He was seized with a
+panic desire to scream and rush up-stairs.  He did not scream, but
+he thrust one bare foot from beneath the sofa.  Then he hastily
+drew it in again, for the person in the dining-room, whoever he or
+she might be, was coming toward the door.
+
+A moment later there was a scratching sound and the living-room was
+dimly illumined by the flare of a match.  The small and trembling
+watcher beneath the sofa shut his eyes in fright.  When he opened
+them the lamp upon the center table was lighted and Santa Claus
+himself was standing by the table peering anxiously about.
+
+It was Santa--Georgie made up his mind to that immediately.  There
+was the pack, the pack which the pictured Santa Claus always
+carried, to prove it, although in this instance the pack was but a
+small and rather dirty bundle.  There were other points of
+difference between the real Santa and the pictures; for instance,
+instead of being clothed entirely in furs, this one's apparel
+seemed to be, for the most part, rags, and soaked and dripping rags
+at that.  But he did wear a fur cap, a mangy one which looked like
+a drowned cat, and his beard, though ragged like his garments, was
+all that might be desired.  Yes, it was Santa Claus who had come,
+just as they said he would, although--and Georgie's doubts were so
+far justified--he had NOT come down the living-room chimney.
+
+Santa was cold, it seemed, for his first move was to go to the
+stove and stand by it, shivering and warming his hands.  During
+this operation he kept looking fearfully about him and, apparently,
+listening.  Then, to Georgie's chagrin and disappointment, he took
+up the lamp and tiptoed into the dining-room again.  However, he
+had not gone for good, for his pack was still upon the floor where
+he had dropped it.  And a few minutes later he reappeared, his
+pockets bulging and in his free hand the remains of half a ham,
+which Georgie himself had seen Aunt Thankful put away in the
+pantry.
+
+He replaced the lamp on the table and from his pockets extracted
+the end of a loaf of bread, several doughnuts and a half-dozen
+molasses cookies.  Then he seated himself in a chair by the stove
+and proceeded to eat, hungrily, voraciously, first the ham and
+bread and then the doughnuts and cookies.  And as he ate he looked
+and listened, occasionally starting as if in alarm.
+
+At last, when he had eaten everything but the ham bone, he rose to
+his feet and turned his attention to the pack upon the floor.  This
+was what Georgie had been waiting for, and as Santa fumbled with
+the pack, his back to the sofa, the boy parted the fringe and
+peered at him with eager expectation.
+
+The pack, according to every story Georgie had been told, should
+have been bulging with presents; but if the latter were there they
+were under more old clothes, even worse than those the Christmas
+saint was wearing.  Santa Claus hurriedly pawed over the upper
+layer and then took out a little package wrapped in tissue paper.
+Untying the string, he exposed a small pasteboard box and from this
+box he lifted some cotton and then--a ring.
+
+It was a magnificent ring, so Georgie thought.  It had a big green
+stone in the center and the rest was gold, or what looked like
+gold.  Santa seemed to think well of it, too, for he held it to the
+lamplight and moved it back and forth, watching the shine of the
+green stone.  Then he put the ring down, tore a corner from the
+piece of tissue paper, rummaged the stump of a pencil out of his
+rags, and, humping himself over the table, seemed to be writing.
+
+It took him a long time and was plainly hard work, for he groaned
+occasionally and kept putting the point of the pencil into his
+mouth.  Georgie's curiosity grew stronger each second.  Unconscious
+of what he was doing, he parted the fringe still more and thrust
+out his head for a better view.  The top of his head struck the
+edge of the sofa with a dull thump.
+
+Santa Claus jumped as if someone had stuck a pin into him and
+turned.  That portion of his face not covered by the scraggly beard
+was as white as mud and dirt would permit.
+
+"Who--who be YOU?" he demanded in a frightened whisper.
+
+Georgie was white and frightened also, but he manfully crept out
+from beneath the sofa.
+
+"Who be you?" repeated Santa.
+
+"I--I'm Georgie," stammered the boy.
+
+"Georgie!  Georgie who?"
+
+"Georgie Hobbs.  The--the boy that lives here."
+
+"Lives--lives HERE?"
+
+"Yes."  It seemed strange that the person reputed to know all the
+children in the world did not recognize him at sight.
+
+Apparently he did not, however, for after an instant of silent and
+shaky inspection he said:
+
+"You mean to say you live here--in this house?  Who do you live
+with?"
+
+"Mrs. Barnes, her that owns the house."
+
+Santa gasped audibly.  "You--you live with HER?" he demanded.
+"Good Lord!  She--she ain't married again, is she?"
+
+"Married!  No--no, sir, she ain't married."
+
+"Then--then--See here, boy; what's your name--your whole name?"
+
+"George Ellis Hobbs.  I'm Mr. Hobbs's boy, up to South Middleboro,
+you know.  I'm down here stayin' with Aunt Thankful.  She--"
+
+"Sshh! sshh!  Don't talk so loud.  So you're Mr. Hobbs's boy, eh?
+What--eh?  Oh, yes, yes.  You're ma was--was Sarah Cahoon, wa'n't
+she?"
+
+"Yes, sir.  I--I hope you won't be cross because I hid under the
+sofa.  They said you were coming, but I wasn't sure, and I--I
+thought I'd hide and see if you did.  Please--" the tears rushed to
+Georgie's eyes at the dreadful thought--"please don't be cross and
+go away without leaving me anything.  I'll never do so again;
+honest, I won't."
+
+Santa seemed to have heard only the first part of this plea for
+forgiveness.  He put a hand to his forehead.
+
+"They said I was comin'!" he repeated.  "They said--  WHO said so?"
+
+"Why, everybody.  Aunt Thankful and Emily and Imogene and Cap'n
+Bangs and Mr. Parker and--all of 'em.  They knew you was comin'
+tonight, but I--"
+
+"They knew it!  Boy, are you crazy?"
+
+Georgie shook his head.
+
+"No, sir."  Then, as Santa Claus sat staring blankly with open
+mouth and fingers plucking nervously at what seemed to be the only
+button on his coat, he added, "Please, sir, did you bring the air-
+gun?"
+
+"Hey?"
+
+"Did you bring the air-gun I wanted?  They said you probably
+wouldn't, but I do want it like everything.  I won't shoot the
+hens, honest I won't."
+
+Santa Claus picked at the button.
+
+"Say, boy," he asked, slowly.  "Who am I?"
+
+Georgie was surprised.
+
+"Why, Santa Claus," he replied.  "You are Santa Claus, ain't you?"
+
+"Eh?  San . . . Oh, yes, yes!  I'm Santa Claus, that's who I be."
+He seemed relieved, but still anxious.  After fidgeting a moment he
+added, "Well, I cal'late I'll have to be goin' now."
+
+Georgie turned pale.
+
+"But--but where are the presents?" he wailed.  "I--I thought you
+wasn't goin' to be cross with me.  I'm awfully sorry I stayed up to
+watch for you.  I won't ever do it again.  PLEASE don't go away and
+not leave me any presents.  Please, Mr. Santa Claus!"
+
+Santa started.  "Sshh!" he commanded in an agonized whisper.  "Hush
+up!  Somebody'll hear. . . .  Eh?  What's that?"
+
+The front stairs creaked ominously.  Georgie did not answer; he
+made a headlong dive for his hiding-place beneath the sofa.  Santa
+seemed to be even more alarmed than the youngster.  He glanced
+wildly about the room and, as another creak came from the stairs,
+darted into the dining-room.
+
+For a minute or more nothing happened.  Then the door leading to
+the front hall, the door which had been standing ajar, opened
+cautiously and Mrs. Barnes' head protruded beyond its edge.  She
+looked about the room; then she entered.  Emily Howes followed.
+Both ladies wore wrappers now, and Thankful's hand clutched an
+umbrella, the only weapon available, which she had snatched from
+the hall rack as she passed it.  She advanced to the center table.
+
+"Who's here?" she demanded firmly.  "Who lit this lamp?  Georgie!
+Georgie Hobbs, we know you're here somewhere, for we heard you.
+Show yourself this instant."
+
+Silence--then Emily seized her cousin's arm and pointed.  A small
+bare foot protruded from beneath the sofa fringe.  Thankful marched
+to the sofa and, stooping, grasped the ankle above the foot.
+
+"Georgie Hobbs," she ordered, "come out from under this sofa."
+
+Georgie came, partly of his own volition, partly because of the
+persuasive tug at his ankle.
+
+"Now, then," ordered Thankful; "what are you doin' down here?
+Answer me."
+
+Georgie did not answer.  He marked a circle on the floor with his
+toe.
+
+"What are you doin' down here?" repeated Mrs. Barnes.  "Did you
+light that lamp?"
+
+"No'm," replied Georgie.
+
+"Of course he didn't, Auntie," whispered Emily.  "There was someone
+here with him.  I heard them talking."
+
+"Who did light it?"
+
+Georgie marked another circle.  "Santa Claus," he muttered faintly.
+
+Thankful stared, first at the boy and then at her cousin.
+
+"Mercy on us!" she exclaimed.  "The child's gone crazy.  Christmas
+has struck to his head!"
+
+But Emily's fears were not concerning her small brother's sanity.
+"Hush, Auntie," she whispered.  "Hush!  He was talking to someone.
+We both heard another voice.  WHO did you say it was, Georgie?"
+
+"Santa Claus.  Oh, Emmie, please don't be mad.  I--I wanted to see
+him so--and--and when he came I--I--"
+
+"There, there, Georgie; don't cry, dear.  We're not cross.  You
+were talking to someone you thought was Santa.  Where is he?"
+
+"He WAS Santa Claus.  He SAID he was.  He went away when you came--
+into the dinin'-room."
+
+"The dining-room? . . .  Auntie, WHAT are you doing?  Don't!"
+
+But Thankful had seized the lamp and was already at the threshold
+of the dining-room.  Holding the light aloft she peered into that
+apartment.
+
+"If there's anybody here," she ordered, "they'd better come out
+because. . . .  Here!  I see you under that table.  I--"
+
+She stopped, gasped, and staggered back.  Emily, running to her
+side, was just in time to prevent the lamp falling to the floor.
+
+"Oh, Auntie," cried the young lady.  "Auntie, what IS it?"
+
+Thankful did not answer.  Her face was white and she moved her
+hands helplessly.  And there in the doorway of the dining-room
+appeared Santa Claus; and if ever Santa Claus looked scared and
+apprehensive he did at that moment.
+
+Emily stared at him.  Mrs. Barnes uttered a groan.  Santa Claus
+smiled feebly.
+
+"Hello, Thankful," he said.  "I--I cal'late you're surprised to see
+me, ain't you?"
+
+Thankful's lips moved.
+
+"Are--are you livin' or--or dead?" she gasped.
+
+"Me--Oh, I'm alive, but that's about all.  Hey?  It's Emily, ain't
+it?  Why--why, Emily, don't you know me?"
+
+Miss Howes put the lamp down upon the table.  Then she leaned
+heavily upon a chair back.
+
+"Cousin Jedediah!" she exclaimed.  "It can't be--it--Auntie--"
+
+But Thankful interrupted.  She turned to Georgie.
+
+"Is--is THIS your Santa Claus?" she faltered.
+
+"Yes'm," answered Georgie.
+
+"Jedediah Cahoon!" cried Thankful.  "Jedediah Cahoon!"
+
+For Georgie's "Santa Claus" was her brother, the brother who had
+run away from her home so long ago to seek his fortune in the
+Klondike; whose letter, written in San Francisco and posted in
+Omaha, had reached her the month before; whom the police of several
+cities were looking for at her behest.
+
+"Auntie!" cried Emily again.
+
+Thankful shook her head.  "Help me to a chair, Emily," she begged
+weakly.  "This--this is--my soul and body!  Jedediah come alive
+again!"
+
+The returned gold-hunter swallowed several times.
+
+"Thankful," he faltered, "I know you must feel pretty hard agin me,
+but--but, you see--"
+
+"Hush! hush!  Don't speak to me for a minute.  Let me get my
+bearin's, for mercy sakes, if I can. . . .  Jedediah--HERE!"
+
+"Yes--yes, I'm here.  I am, honest.  I--"
+
+"Sshh!  You're here now, but--but where have you been all this
+time?  For a man that is, I presume likely, loaded down with money--
+I presume you must be loaded down with it; you remember you'd said
+you'd never come back until you was--for that kind of a man I must
+say you look pretty down at the heel."
+
+"Thankful--"
+
+"Have you worn out your clothes luggin' the money around?"
+
+"Auntie, don't.  Look at him.  Think!"
+
+"Hush, Emily!  I am lookin' at him and I'm thinkin', too.  I'm
+thinkin' of how much I put up with afore he run off and left me,
+and how I've worried and laid awake nights thinkin' he was dead.
+Where have you been all this time?  Why haven't you written?"
+
+"I did write."
+
+"You wrote when you was without a cent and wanted to get money from
+me.  You didn't write before.  Let me be, Emily; you don't know
+what I've gone through on account of him and now he comes sneakin'
+into my house in the middle of the night, without a word that he
+was comin', sneakin' in like a thief and frightenin' us half to
+death and--"
+
+Jedediah interrupted.  "Sneakin' in!" he repeated, with a desperate
+move of his hands.  "I had to sneak in.  I was scairt to come in
+when you was up and awake.  I knew you'd be down on me like a
+thousand of brick.  I--I--Oh, you don't know what I've been
+through, Thankful, or you'd pity me, 'stead of pitchin' into me
+like this.  I've been a reg'lar tramp--that's what I've been, a
+tramp.  Freezin' and starvin' and workin' in bar-rooms!  Why, I
+beat my way on a freight train all the way here from New Bedford,
+and I've been hidin' out back of the house waitin' for you to go to
+bed, so's I'd dare come in."
+
+"So's you'd dare come in!  What did you want to come in for if I
+wa'n't here?"
+
+"I wanted to leave a note for you, that's why.  I wanted to leave a
+note and--and that."
+
+He pointed to the ring and the bit of tissue paper on the table.
+Thankful took up the paper first and read aloud what was written
+upon it.
+
+
+"For Thankful, with a larst merry Christmas from brother Jed.  I am
+going away and if you want me I will be at New Bedford for two
+weeks, care the bark Finback."
+
+
+"'I am goin' away'," repeated Thankful.  "Goin' away?  Are you
+goin' away AGAIN?"
+
+"I--I was cal'latin' to.  I'm goin' cook on a whaler."
+
+"Cook!  You a cook!  And," she took up the ring and stared at it,
+"for the land sakes, what's this?"
+
+"It's a present I bought for you.  Took my last two dollar bill, it
+did.  I wanted you to have somethin' to remember me by."
+
+Thankful held the gaudy ring at arm's length and stared at it
+helplessly.  There was a curious expression on her face, half-way
+between laughing and crying.
+
+"You bought this--this thing for me," she repeated.  "And did you
+think I'd wear it."
+
+"I hoped you would.  Oh, Thankful, if you only knew what I've been
+through.  Why, I was next door to starvin' when I got in here
+tonight.  If I hadn't eat somethin' I found in the buttry I would
+have starved, I guess.  And I'm soaked, soppin' through and--"
+
+"There, there.  Hush! hush!  Jedediah, you're gold-diggin' ain't
+changed you much, I guess.  You're just as helpless as ever you
+was.  Well, you're here and I'm grateful for so much.  Now you come
+with me out into the kitchen and we'll see what can be done about
+gettin' you dry.  Emily, if you'll just put that child to bed."
+
+But Georgie had something to say.  He had listened to this long
+dialogue with astonishment and growing dismay.  Now the dismay and
+conviction of a great disappointment overcame him.
+
+"I don't want to go to bed," he wailed.  "Ain't he Santa Claus?  He
+SAID he was Santa Claus.  Where are my presents?  Where's my air-
+gun?  I want my presents.  Oh--Oh--Oh!"
+
+He went out crying.  Emily ran to him.
+
+"Hush, hush, Georgie, dear," she begged.  "Come upstairs with
+sister--come.  If you don't you may be here when the real Santa
+comes and you will frighten him away.  Come with me; that's a good
+boy.  Auntie, I will be down by and by."
+
+She led the disappointed and still sobbing boy from the room.
+Thankful turned to her brother.
+
+"Now you march out into that kitchen," she commanded.  "I'll get
+you warm first and then I'll see about a bed for you.  You'll have
+to sleep up on the third floor tonight.  After that I'll see about
+a better room to put you in."
+
+Jedediah stared at her.
+
+"What--what," he faltered.  "Do you mean--Thankful, do you mean
+you're goin' to let me stay here for--for good?"
+
+"Yes, of course I do.  You don't think I'll let you get out of my
+sight again, do you?  That is, unless you're real set on goin'
+gold-huntin'.  I'm sure you shan't go cook on any whaler; I've got
+too much regard for sailors' digestions to let you do that."
+
+"Thankful, I--I'll work my hands off for you.  I'll--"
+
+"All right, all right.  Now trot along and warm those hands or you
+won't have any left to work off; they'll be SHOOK off with the
+shivers.  Come, Jed, I forgive you; after all, you're my brother,
+though you did run away and leave me."
+
+"Then--then you're glad I came back?"
+
+"Glad!"  Thankful shook her head with a tearful smile.  "Glad!" she
+repeated.  "I've been workin' heavens and earth to get you back
+ever since I got that pitiful letter of yours.  You poor thing!
+You MUST have had a hard time of it.  Well, you can tell me all
+about it by and by.  Now you march into that kitchen."
+
+Another hour had passed before Mrs. Barnes reentered the living-
+room.  There, to her astonishment, she found Emily awaiting her.
+
+"Why, for goodness sakes!" cried Thankful.  "What are you doin'
+here?  I thought you'd gone to bed long ago."
+
+Emily's reply was given in an odd tone.  She did not look at her
+cousin when she spoke.
+
+"No, no," she said, quickly.  "I--I haven't gone to bed."
+
+"I see you haven't, but why?"
+
+"I didn't want to.  I--I'm not sleepy."
+
+"Not sleepy!  At two o'clock in the mornin'?  Well," with a sigh,
+"I suppose 'tain't to be wondered at.  What's happened this night
+is enough to keep anybody awake.  I can't believe it even yet.  To
+think of his comin' back after I've given him up for dead twice
+over.  It's like a story-book."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"Up in bed, in one of the attic rooms.  If he hasn't got his death
+of cold it'll be a wonder.  And SUCH yarns as he's been spinnin' to
+me.  I--Emily, what's the matter with you?  What makes you act so
+queer?"
+
+Emily did not answer.  Mrs. Barnes walked across the room and,
+stooping, peered into her face.
+
+"You're white as a sheet!" she cried, in alarm.  "And you're
+tremblin' all over.  What in the world IS the matter?"
+
+Emily tried to smile, but it was a poor attempt.
+
+"Nothing, nothing, Auntie," she said.  "That is, I--I'm sure it
+can't be anything to be afraid of."
+
+"But you are afraid, just the same.  What is it?  Tell me this
+minute."
+
+For the first time Emily looked her cousin in the face.
+
+"Auntie," she whispered, "I am--I have been frightened.  Something
+I heard upstairs frightened me."
+
+"Somethin' you heard upstairs?  Where?  Has Georgie--"
+
+"No, Georgie is asleep in his room.  I locked the door.  It wasn't
+Georgie; it was something else."
+
+"Somethin'--Emily Howes, do you want to scare me to DEATH?  What IS
+it?"
+
+"I don't know what it is.  I heard it first when I came out of
+Georgie's room a few minutes ago.  Then I went down the hall to his
+door and listened.  Aunt Thankful, he--he is in there talking--
+talking to someone."
+
+"He?  Talkin'?  Who?"
+
+"Mr. Cobb.  It was dreadful.  He was talking to--to--I don't know
+WHAT he was talking to, but it was awful to hear."
+
+"Talkin'?  Solomon Cobb was talkin'?  In his sleep, do you mean?"
+
+"No, he wasn't asleep.  He was talking to someone, or some THING,
+in that room.  And that wasn't all.  I heard--I heard--Oh, I DID
+hear it!  I know I did!  And yet it couldn't be!  It couldn't!"
+
+"Emily Howes, if you keep on I'll--WHAT did you hear?"
+
+"I don't know. . . .  Aunt Thankful, where are you going?"
+
+Thankful did not answer.  She was on her way to the front hall and
+the stairs.  Emily rushed after her and would have detained her if
+she could, but Thankful would not be detained.  Up the stairs they
+went together and along the narrow dark hall.  At the end of the
+hall was the door of the back bedroom, or the larger room adjoining
+it.  The door was closed, but from beneath it shone lamplight in
+sharp, yellow streaks.  And from behind it came faintly the sound
+of a deep groan, the groan of a soul in agony.
+
+"He's sick," whispered Thankful.  "The man's sick.  I'm goin' to
+him."
+
+"He isn't sick.  It--it's something else.  I tell you I heard--"
+
+Thankful did not wait to learn what her cousin had heard.  She
+tiptoed down the hall and Emily followed.  The two women crouched
+beside the closed door of Mr. Cobb's room.  And within that room
+they heard Solomon's voice, now rising almost to a shriek, now
+sinking to a groan, as its owner raved on and on, talking, pleading,
+praying.
+
+"Oh, don't--don't, Abner!" cried Mr. Cobb.  "Don't, no more!
+PLEASE don't!  I know what you mean.  I know it all.  I'm sorry.  I
+know I ain't done right.  But I'll MAKE it right; I swear to the
+Almighty I will!  I know I've broke my word to you and acted wicked
+and mean, but I give you my solemn word I'll make everything right.
+Only just quit and go away, that's all I ask.  Just quit that--Oh,
+there you GO again!  QUIT!  PLEASE quit!"
+
+It was dreadful to hear, but this was not the most dreadful.
+Between the agonized sentences and whenever the wind lulled, the
+listeners at the door heard another sound, a long-drawn gasp and
+groan, a series of gasps and groans, as of something fighting for
+breath, the unmistakable sound of snoring.
+
+Emily grasped her cousin's arm.  "Come, come away!" she whispered.
+"I--I believe I'm going to faint."
+
+Mrs. Barnes did not wait to be urged.  She put her arm about the
+young lady's waist and together they tiptoed back to Thankful's
+bedroom.  There, Mrs. Barnes's first move was to light the lamp,
+the second to close and lock the door.  Then the pair sat down, one
+upon the bed and the other on a chair, and gazed into each other's
+pale faces.
+
+Emily was the first to speak.
+
+"I--I don't believe it!" she declared, shakily.  "I KNOW it isn't
+real!"
+
+"So--so do I."
+
+"But--but we heard it.  We both heard it."
+
+"Well--well, I give in I--I heard somethin', somethin' that. . . .
+My soul!  Am I goin' CRAZY to finish off this night with?"
+
+"I don't know.  If you are, then I must be going with you.  What
+can it be, Auntie?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"There is no other door to that room, is there?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then what CAN it be?"
+
+"I don't know.  Imogene's in her own room; I looked in and saw her
+when I took Jedediah up attic.  And Georgie's in his with the door
+locked.  And you and I are here.  There can't be a livin' soul in
+that room with Solomon, not a livin' soul."
+
+"But we heard--we both heard--"
+
+"I know; I know.  And I heard somethin' there before.  And so did
+Miss Timpson.  Emily, did--did you hear him call--call it 'Abner'?"
+
+"Yes," with a shudder.  "I heard.  Who could help hearing!"
+
+"And Cap'n Abner was my uncle; and he used to live here. . . .
+There!" with sudden determination.  "That's enough of this.  We'll
+both be stark, ravin' distracted if we keep on this way.  My soul!
+Hear that wind!  I said once that all the big things in my life had
+happened durin' a storm and so they have.  Jedediah went away in a
+storm and he's come back in a storm.  And now if UNCLE ABNER'S
+comin' back. . . .  There I go again!  Emily, do you feel like
+goin' to bed?"
+
+"To BED!  After THAT?  Auntie, how can you!"
+
+"All right, then we'll set up till mornin'.  Turn that lamp as high
+as you can and we'll set by it and wait for daylight.  By that time
+we may have some of our sense back again and not behave like two
+feeble-minded fools.  Turn that wick up--WAY up, Emily Howes!  And
+talk--talk just as hard as you can--about somethin' or somebody
+that's ALIVE."
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+Emily obeyed orders as far as turning up the wick was concerned,
+and she did her best to talk.  It was hard work; both she and her
+cousin found themselves breaking off a sentence in the middle to
+listen and draw closer together as the wild gusts whistled about
+the windows and the water poured from the sashes and gurgled upon
+the sills.  Occasionally Thankful went to the door to look down the
+dark hall in the direction of Mr. Cobb's room, or to unlock
+Georgie's door and peer in to make sure that the boy was safe and
+sleeping.
+
+From the third of these excursions Mrs. Barnes returned with a bit
+of reassuring news.
+
+"I went almost there this time," she whispered.  "My conscience has
+been tormenting me to think of--of Solomon's bein' alone in there
+with--with THAT, and I almost made up my mind to sing out and ask
+if he was all right.  But I didn't have to, thank goodness.  His
+light's still lit and I heard him movin' around, so he ain't been
+scared clean to death, at any rate.  For the rest of it I don't
+care so much; a good hard scarin' may do him good.  He needs one.
+If ever a stingy old reprobate needed to have a warnin' from the
+hereafter that man does."
+
+"Did you hear anything--anything else?" whispered Emily, fearfully.
+
+"No, I didn't, and I didn't wait for fear I MIGHT hear it.  Did I
+lock the door when I came in?  Emily, I guess you think I'm the
+silliest old coward that ever was.  I am--and I know it.  Tomorrow
+we'll both be brave enough, and we'll both KNOW there ain't any
+spirits here, or anywhere else this side of the grave; but tonight--
+well, tonight's different. . . .  Ouch! what was that?  There,
+there! don't mind my jumpin'.  I feel as if I'd been stuffed with
+springs, like a sofa.  Did you ever know a night as long as this?
+Won't mornin' EVER come?"
+
+At five o'clock, while it was still pitch dark, Thankful announced
+her intention of going downstairs.  "Might as well be in the
+kitchen as up here," she said, "and I can keep busy till Imogene
+comes down.  And, besides, we'd better be puttin' Georgie's
+stockin' and his presents in the livin'-room.  The poor little
+shaver's got to have his Christmas, even though his Santa Claus did
+turn out to be a walkin' rag-bag."
+
+Emily started.  "Why, it is Christmas, isn't it!" she exclaimed.
+"Between returned brothers and," with a little shiver, "ghosts, I
+forgot entirely."
+
+She kissed her cousin's cheek.
+
+"A merry Christmas, Aunt Thankful," she said.
+
+Thankful returned the kiss.  "Same to you, dearie, and many of
+'em," she replied.  "Well, here's another Christmas day come to me.
+A year ago I didn't think I'd be here.  I wonder where I'll be next
+Christmas.  Will I have a home of my own or will what I've thought
+was my home belong to Sol Cobb or Holliday Kendrick?"
+
+"Hush, Auntie, hush!  Your home won't be taken from you.  It would
+be too mean, too dreadful!  God won't permit such a thing."
+
+"I sartin' hope he won't, but it seems sometimes as if he permitted
+some mighty mean things, 'cordin' to our way of lookin' at 'em.
+That light's still burnin'," she added, peering out into the hall.
+"Well, I suppose I ought to pity Solomon, but I don't when I think
+how he's treated me.  If the ghost--or whatever 'tis in there--
+weeded out the rest of his whiskers for him I don't know's I'd
+care.  'Twould serve him right, I guess."
+
+They rehung Georgie's stocking--bulging and knobby it was now--and
+arranged his more bulky presents beneath it on the floor.  Then
+Thankful went into the kitchen and Emily accompanied her.  The
+morning broke, pale and gray.  The wind had subsided and it no
+longer rained.  With the returning daylight Emily's courage began
+to revive.
+
+"I can't understand," she said, "how you and I could have been so
+childish last night.  We should have insisted on calling to Mr.
+Cobb and then we should have found out what it was that frightened
+him and us.  I mean to go over every inch of those two rooms before
+dinner time."
+
+Thankful nodded.  "I'll do it with you," she said.  "But I've been
+over 'em so many times that I'm pretty skeptical.  The time to go
+over 'em is in the night when that--that snorin' is goin' on.  A
+ghost that snores ought, by rights, to be one that's asleep, and a
+sound-asleep ghost ought to be easy to locate.  Oh, yes!  I can
+make fun NOW.  I told you I was as brave as a lion--in the
+daytime."
+
+It was easy to talk now, and they drifted into a discussion of many
+things.  Thankful retold the story of her struggle to keep the High
+Cliff House afloat, told it all, her hopes, her fears and her
+discouragements.  They spoke of Captain Bangs, of his advice and
+help and friendship.  Emily brought the captain into the
+conversation and kept him there.  Thankful said little concerning
+him, and of the one surprising, intimate interview between Captain
+Obed and herself she said not a word.  She it was who first
+mentioned John Kendrick's name.  Emily was at first disinclined to
+speak of the young lawyer, but, little by little, as her cousin
+hinted and questioned, she said more and more.  Thankful learned
+what she wished to learn, and it was what she had suspected.  She
+learned something else, too, something which concerned another
+citizen of East Wellmouth.
+
+"I knew it!" she cried.  "I didn't believe 'twas so, and I as much
+as told Cap'n Obed 'twasn't this very day--no, yesterday, I mean.
+When a body don't go to bed at all the days kind of run into one
+another."
+
+"What did you know?" asked Emily.  "What were you and Captain Obed
+talking of that concerned me?"
+
+"Nothin', nothin', dear.  It didn't concern you one bit, and
+'twasn't important. . . .  Hi hum!" rising and looking out of the
+window.  "It's gettin' brighter fast now.  Looks as if we might
+have a pleasant Christmas, after all.  Wonder how poor Jedediah'll
+feel when he wakes up.  I hope he slept warm anyhow.  I piled on
+comforters and quilts enough to smother him."
+
+Her attempt at changing the subject was successful.  Emily's next
+question concerned Jedediah.
+
+"What are you goin' to do with him, Auntie?" she asked.  "He must
+stay here, mustn't he?"
+
+"Course he must.  I'll never trust him out of my sight again.  He
+ain't competent to take care of himself and so I'll have to take
+care of him.  Well," with a sigh, "it'll only be natural, that's
+all.  I've been used to takin' care of somebody all my days.  I
+wonder how 'twould seem to have somebody take care of me for a
+change?  Not that there's liable to be anybody doin' it," she added
+hastily.
+
+"Jedediah might be useful to work about the place here," said
+Emily.  "You will always need a hired man, you know."
+
+"Yes, but I don't need two, and I couldn't discharge Kenelm on
+Imogene's account.  What that girl ever got engaged to that old
+image for is more'n I can make out or ever shall."
+
+Emily smiled.  "I shouldn't worry about Imogene," she said.  "I
+think she knows perfectly well what she is about."
+
+"Maybe so, but if she does, then her kind of knowledge is different
+from mine.  If I was goin' to marry anybody in that family 'twould
+be Hannah; she's the most man of the two."
+
+Imogene herself came down a few minutes later.  She was much
+surprised to find her mistress and Miss Howes dressed and in the
+kitchen.  Also she was very curious.
+
+"Who's that man," she asked; "the one in the next room to mine, up
+attic?  Is he a new boarder?  He must have come awful late.  I
+heard you and him talkin' in the middle of the night.  Who is he?"
+
+When told the story of Jedediah's return she was greatly excited.
+
+"Why, it's just like somethin' in a story!" she cried.  "Long-lost
+folks are always comin' back in stories.  And comin' Christmas Eve
+makes it all the better.  Lordy--  There, I ain't said that for
+weeks and weeks!  Excuse me, Mrs. Thankful.  I WON'T say it again.
+But--but what are we goin' to do with him?  Is he goin' to stay
+here for good?"
+
+Thankful answered that she supposed he was, he had no other place
+to stay.
+
+"Is he rich?  He ought to be.  Folks in stories always come home
+rich after they've run off."
+
+"Well, this one didn't.  He missed connections, somehow.  Rich!
+No," drily, "he ain't rich."
+
+"Well, what will he do?  Will we have to take care of him--free, I
+mean?  Excuse me for buttin' in, ma'am, but it does seem as if we
+had enough on our hands without takin' another free boarder."
+
+Thankful went into the dining-room.  Emily, when the question was
+repeated to her, suggested that, possibly, Jedediah might work
+about the place, take care of the live-stock and of the garden,
+when there was one.
+
+Imogene reflected.  "Hum!" she mused.  "We don't need two hired
+hands, that's a sure thing.  You mean he'll take Kenelm's job?"
+
+"That isn't settled, so you mustn't speak of it.  I know my cousin
+will be very sorry to let Kenelm go, largely on your account,
+Imogene."
+
+"On my account?"
+
+"Why, yes.  You and he are engaged to be married and of course you
+like to have him here."
+
+Imogene burst out laughing.  "Don't you worry about that, Miss
+Emily," she said.  "I shan't, and I don't think Kenelm will,
+either."
+
+Breakfast was ready at last and they were just sitting down to the
+table--it had been decided not to call Jedediah or Mr. Cobb--when
+Georgie appeared.  The boy had crept downstairs, his small head
+filled with forebodings; but the sight of the knobby stocking and
+the heap of presents sent his fears flying and he burst into the
+room with a shriek of joy.  One by one the packages were unwrapped
+and, with each unwrapping, the youngster's excitement rose.
+
+"Gee!" he cried, as he sat in the middle of the heap of toys and
+brown paper and looked about him.  "Gee!  They're all here;
+everything I wanted--but that air-gun.  I don't care, though.
+Maybe I'll get that next Christmas.  Or maybe Cap'n Bangs'll give
+it to me, anyhow.  He gives me most anything, if I tease for it."
+
+Thankful shook her head.  "You see, Georgie," she said, "it pays to
+be a good boy.  If Santa had caught you hidin' under that sofa and
+watchin' for him last night you might not have got any of these
+nice things."
+
+Georgie did not answer immediately.  When he did it was in a rather
+doubtful tone.
+
+"There ain't any soot on 'em, anyhow," he observed.  "And they
+ain't wet, either."
+
+Imogene clapped her hand to her mouth and hurried from the room.
+"You can't fool that kid much," she whispered to Emily afterward.
+"He's the smartest kid ever I saw.  I'll keep out of his way for a
+while; I don't want to have to answer his questions."
+
+There were other presents besides those given to Georgie; presents
+for Emily from Thankful, and for Thankful from Emily, and for
+Imogene from both.  There was nothing costly, of course, but no one
+cared for that.
+
+As they were beginning breakfast Jedediah appeared.  His garments,
+which had been drying by the kitchen stove all night and which
+Imogene had deposited in a heap at his bedroom door, were wrinkled,
+but his face shone from the vigorous application of soap and water
+and, as his sister said afterward, "You could see his complexion
+without diggin' for it, and that was somethin'."
+
+His manner was subdued and he was very, very polite and anxious to
+please, but his appetite was in good order.  Introduced to Imogene
+he expressed himself as pleased to meet her.  Georgie he greeted
+with some hesitation; evidently the memory of his midnight
+encounter with the boy embarrassed him.  But Georgie, when he
+learned that the shabby person whom he was told to call "Uncle Jed"
+was, although only an imitation Santa Claus, a genuine gold-hunter
+and traveler who had seen real Esquimaux and polar bears, warmed to
+his new relative immediately.
+
+When the meal was over Jedediah made what was, for him, an amazing
+suggestion.
+
+"Now," he said, "I cal'late I'd better be gettin' to work, hadn't
+I?  What'll I do first, Thankful?"
+
+Mrs. Barnes stared at him.  "Work?" she repeated.  "What do you
+mean?"
+
+"I mean I want to be doin' somethin'--somethin' to help, you know.
+I don't cal'late to stay around here and loaf.  No, SIR!"
+
+Thankful drew a long breath.  "All right, Jed," she said.  "You can
+go out in the barn and feed the horse if you want to.  Kenelm--Mr.
+Parker--generally does it, but he probably won't be here for quite
+a spell yet.  Go ahead.  Imogene'll show you what to do. . . .
+But, say, hold on," she added, with emphasis.  "Don't you go off
+the premises, and if you see anybody comin', keep out of sight.  I
+don't want anybody to see a brother of mine in THOSE clothes.
+Soon's ever I can I'll go up to the village and buy you somethin'
+to wear, if it's only an 'ilskin jacket and a pair of overalls.
+They'll cover up the rags, anyhow.  As you are now, you look like
+one of Georgie's picture-puzzles partly put together."
+
+When the eager applicant for employment had gone, under Imogene's
+guidance, Emily spoke her mind.
+
+"Auntie," she said, "are you going to make him work--now; after
+what he's been through, and on Christmas day, too?"
+
+Thankful was still staring after her brother.
+
+"Sshh! sshh!" she commanded.  "Don't speak to me for a minute; you
+may wake me up.  Jedediah Cahoon ASKIN' to go to work!  All the
+miracles in Scriptur' are nothin' to this."
+
+"But, Auntie, he did ask.  And do you think he is strong enough?"
+
+"Hush, Emily, hush!  You don't know Jedediah.  Strong enough!  I'm
+the one that needs strength, if I'm goin' to have shocks like this
+one sprung on me."
+
+Emily said no more, but she noticed that her cousin was wearing the
+two-dollar ring, the wanderer's "farewell" gift, so she judged that
+brother Jed would not be worked beyond the bounds of moderation.
+
+Left alone in the dining-room--Georgie had returned to the living-
+room and his presents--the two women looked at each other.  Neither
+had eaten a breakfast worth mentioning and the same thought was in
+the mind of each.
+
+"Auntie," whispered Emily, voicing that thought, "don't you think
+we ought to go up and--and see if he is--all right."
+
+Thankful nodded.  "Yes," she said, "I suppose we had.  He's alive,
+I know that much, for I had Imogene knock on his door just now and
+he answered.  But I guess maybe we'd better--"
+
+She did not finish the sentence for at that moment the subject of
+the conversation entered the room.  It was Solomon Cobb who
+entered, but, except for his clothes, he was a changed man.  His
+truculent arrogance was gone, he came in slowly and almost as if he
+were walking in his sleep.  His collar was unbuttoned, his hair had
+not been combed, and the face between the thin bunches of whiskers
+was white and drawn.  He did not speak to either Emily or Thankful,
+but, dragging one foot after the other, crossed the room and sat
+down in a chair by the window.
+
+Thankful spoke to him.
+
+"Are you sick, Solomon?" she asked.
+
+Mr. Cobb shook his head.
+
+"Eh?" he grunted.  "No, no, I ain't sick.  I guess I ain't; I don't
+know."
+
+"Breakfast is all ready, Mr. Cobb," suggested Emily.
+
+Solomon turned a weary eye in her direction.  He looked old, very
+old.
+
+"Breakfast!" he repeated feebly.  "Don't talk about breakfast to
+me!  I'll never eat again in this world."
+
+Thankful pitied him; she could not help it.
+
+"Oh, yes, you will," she said, heartily.  "Just try one of those
+clam fritters of Imogene's and you'll eat a whole lot.  If you
+don't you'll be the first one."
+
+He shook his head.  "Thankful," he said, slowly, "I--I want to talk
+to you.  I've got to talk to you--alone."
+
+"Alone!  Why, Emily's just the same as one of the family.  There's
+no secrets between us, Solomon."
+
+"I don't care.  I wan't to talk to you.  It's you I've got to talk
+to."
+
+Thankful would have protested once more, but Emily put a hand on
+her arm.
+
+"I'll go into the living-room with Georgie, Auntie," she whispered.
+"Yes, I shall."
+
+She went and closed the door behind her.  Thankful sat down in a
+chair, wondering what was coming next.  Solomon did not look at
+her, but, after a moment, he spoke.
+
+"Thankful Cahoon," he said, calling her by her maiden name.  "I--
+I've been a bad man.  I'm goin' to hell."
+
+Thankful jumped.  "Mercy on us!" she cried.  "What kind of talk--"
+
+"I'm goin' to hell," repeated Solomon.  "When a man does the way
+I've done that's where he goes.  I'm goin there and I'm goin'
+pretty soon.  I've had my notice."
+
+Thankful stood up.  She was convinced that her visitor had been
+driven crazy by his experience in the back bedroom.
+
+"Now, now, now," she faltered.  "Don't talk so wicked, Solomon
+Cobb.  You've been a church man for years, and a professor of
+religion.  You told me so, yourself.  How can you set there and
+say--"
+
+Mr. Cobb waved his hand.
+
+"Don't make no difference," he moaned.  "Or, if it does, it only
+makes it worse.  I know where I'm goin', but--but I'll go with a
+clean manifest, anyhow.  I'll tell you the whole thing.  I promised
+the dead I would and I will.  Thankful Cahoon, I've been a bad man
+to you.  I swore my solemn oath as a Christian to one that was my
+best friend, and I broke it.
+
+"Years ago I swore by all that was good and great I'd look out for
+you and see that you was comf'table and happy long's you lived.
+And instead of that, when I come here last night--LED here, I know
+now that I was--my mind was about made up to take your home away
+from you, if I could.  Yes, sir, I was cal'latin' to foreclose on
+you and sell this place to Kendrick.  I thought I was mighty smart
+and was doin' a good stroke of business.  No mortal man could have
+made me think diff'rent; BUT AN IMMORTAL ONE DID!"
+
+He groaned and wiped his forehead.  Thankful did not speak; her
+surprise and curiosity were too great for speech.
+
+"'Twas your Uncle Abner Barnes," went on Solomon, "that was the
+makin' of me.  I sailed fust mate for him fourteen year.  And he
+always treated me fine, raised my wages right along, and the like
+of that.  'Twas him that put me in the way of investin' my money in
+them sugar stocks and the rest.  He made me rich, or headed me that
+way.  And when he lost all he had except this place here and was
+dyin' aboard the old schooner, he calls me to him and he says:
+
+"'Sol,' he says, 'Sol, I've done consider'ble for you, and you've
+said you was grateful.  Well, I'm goin' to ask a favor of you.  I
+ain't got a cent of my own left, and my niece by marriage, Thankful
+Cahoon that was, that I love same as if she was my own child, may,
+sometime or other, be pretty hard put to it to get along.  I want
+you to look after her.  If ever the time comes that she needs money
+or help I want you to do for her what I'd do if I was here.  If you
+don't,' he says, risin' on one elbow in the bunk, 'I'll come back
+and ha'nt you.  Promise on your solemn oath.'  And I promised.  And
+you know how I've kept that promise.  And last night he come back.
+Yes, sir, he come back!"
+
+Still Thankful said nothing.  He groaned again and went on:
+
+"Last night," he said, "up in that bedroom, I woke up and, as sure
+as I'm settin' here this minute, I heard Cap'n Abner Barnes snorin'
+just as he snored afore his death aboard the schooner, T. I.
+Smalley, in the stateroom next to mine.  I knew it in a minute, but
+I got up and went all round my room and the empty one alongside.
+There was nothin' there, of course.  Nothin' but the snorin'.  And
+I got down on my knees and swore to set things right this very day.
+Give me a pen and ink and some paper."
+
+"Eh?  What?"
+
+"Give me a pen and some ink and paper.  Don't sit there starin'!
+Hurry up!  Can't you see I want to get this thing off my chest
+afore I die!  And--and I--I wouldn't be surprised if I died any
+minute.  Hurry UP!"
+
+Thankful went into the living-room in search of the writing
+materials.  Emily, who was sitting on the floor with Georgie and
+the presents, turned to ask a question.
+
+"What is it, Auntie?" she whispered, eagerly.  "Is it anything
+important?"
+
+Her cousin made an excited gesture.
+
+"I--I don't know," she whispered in reply.  "Either he's been
+driven looney by what happened last night, or else--or else
+somethin's goin' to happen that I don't dast to believe.  Emily,
+you stand right here by the door.  I may want you."
+
+"Where's that pen and things?" queried Solomon from the next room.
+"Ain't you ever comin'?"
+
+When the writing materials were brought and placed upon the dining-
+room table he drew his chair to that table and scrawled a few
+lines.
+
+"Somebody ought to witness this," he cried, nervously.  "Some
+disinterested person ought to witness this.  Then 'twill hold in
+law.  Where's that--that Howes girl?  Oh, here you be!  Here! you
+sign that as a witness."
+
+Emily, who had entered at the mention of her name, took the paper
+from his trembling fingers.  She read what was written upon it.
+
+"Why--why, Auntie!" she cried, excitedly.  "Aunt Thankful, have you
+seen this?  He--"
+
+"Stop your talk!" shouted Solomon.  "Can't you women do nothin' BUT
+talk?  Sign your name alongside of mine as a witness."
+
+Emily took the pen and signed as directed.  Mr. Cobb snatched the
+paper from her, glanced at it and then handed it to Thankful.
+
+"There!" he cried.  "That's done, anyhow.  I've done so much.  Now--
+now don't say a word to me for a spell.  I--I'm all in; that's
+what I am, all in."
+
+Thankful did not say a word; she couldn't have said it at that
+moment.  Upon the paper which she held in her hand was written a
+cancellation of the fifteen-hundred-dollar mortgage and a receipt
+in full for the loan itself, signed by Solomon Cobb.
+
+Dimly and uncomprehendingly she heard Emily trying to thank their
+visitor.  But thanks he would not listen to.
+
+"No, no, no!" he shouted.  "Go away and let me alone.  I'm a
+wicked, condemned critter.  Nobody's ever cared a durn for me,
+nobody but one, and I broke my word to him.  Friendless I've lived
+since Abner went and friendless I'll die.  Serve me right.  I ain't
+got a livin' soul of my own blood in the world."
+
+But Thankful was in a measure herself again.
+
+"Don't talk so, Solomon," she cried.  "You have got somebody of
+your own blood.  I'm a relation of yours, even if 'tis a far-off
+relation.  I--I don't know how to thank you for this.  I--"
+
+He interrupted again.
+
+"Yes," he wailed, "you're my relation.  I know it.  Think that
+makes it any better?  Look how I've treated you.  No, no; I'm goin'
+to die and go--"
+
+"You're goin' to have breakfast, that's what you're goin' to have.
+And it shan't be warmed up fried clams either.  Emily, you stay
+with him.  I'm goin' to the kitchen."
+
+She fled to the kitchen, where, between fits of crying and
+laughing, which would have alarmed Imogene had she been there, she
+tried to prepare a breakfast which might tempt the repentant money-
+lender.  Emily joined her after a short interval.
+
+"He won't listen to anything," said the young lady.  "He has been
+frightened almost to death, that's certain.  He is praying now.  I
+came away and left him praying.  Oh, Auntie, isn't it wonderful!
+Isn't it splendid!"
+
+Thankful sighed.  "It's so wonderful I can scarcely believe it,"
+she said.  "To think of his givin' up money--givin' it away of his
+own accord!  I said last night that Jedediah's comin' home was a
+miracle.  This one beats that all to pieces.  I don't know what to
+do about takin' that thousand from him," she added.  "I declare I
+don't.  'Course I shan't take it in the long run; I'll pay it back
+soon as ever I can.  But should I pretend to take it now?  That's
+what troubles me."
+
+"Of course you should.  He is rich and he doesn't need it.  What
+have you done with that receipt?  Put it away somewhere and in a
+safe place.  He is frightened; that--that something, whatever it
+was, last night--frightened him so that he will give away anything
+now.  But, by and by, when his fright is over he may change his
+mind.  Lock up that paper, Aunt Thankful.  If you don't, I will."
+
+"But what was it that frightened him, Emily?  I declare I'm gettin'
+afraid to stay in this house myself.  What was it he heard--and we
+heard?"
+
+"I don't know, but I mean to find out.  I'm a sensible person this
+morning, not an idiot, and I intend to lay that ghost."
+
+When they went back into the dining-room they were surprised at
+what they saw.  Solomon was still sitting by the window, but
+Georgie was sitting in a chair beside him, exhibiting the pictures
+in one of his Christmas books and apparently on the best of terms
+with his new acquaintance.
+
+"I'm showin' him my 'Swiss Family Robinson,'" said the boy.
+"Here's where they built a house in a tree, Mr. Cobb.  Emmie told
+me about their doin' it."
+
+Solomon groaned.
+
+"You better take this child away from me," he said.  "He came to me
+of his own accord, but he hadn't ought to stay.  A man like me
+ain't fit to have children around him."
+
+Thankful had an inspiration.
+
+"It's a sign," she cried, clapping her hands.  "It's a sign sent to
+you, Solomon.  It means you're forgiven.  That's what it means.
+Now you eat your breakfast."
+
+He was eating, or trying to eat, when someone knocked at the door.
+Winnie S. Holt was standing on the step.
+
+"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Barnes," he hailed.  "Ain't drowned out
+after the gale, be you?  Judas priest!  Our place is afloat.  Dad
+says he cal'lates we'll have to build a raft to get to the henhouse
+on.  Here; here's somethin' Mr. Kendrick sent to you.  Wanted me to
+give it to you, yourself, and nobody else."
+
+The something was a long envelope with "Mrs. Barnes, Personal,"
+written upon it.  Thankful read the inscription.
+
+"From Mr. Kendrick?" she repeated.  "Which Mr. Kendrick?"
+
+"Mr. John, the young one.  Mr. Holliday's comin', though.  He
+telephoned from Bayport this mornin'.  Came down on the cars far's
+there last night, but he didn't dast to come no further 'count of
+bein' afraid to drive from the Centre in the storm.  He's hired an
+automobile and is comin' right over, he says.  The message was for
+John Kendrick, but Dad took it.  What's in the envelope, Mrs.
+Barnes?"
+
+Thankful slowly tore the end from the envelope.  Emily stood at her
+elbow.
+
+"What can it be, Auntie?" she asked, fearfully.
+
+"I don't know.  I'm afraid to look.  Oh, dear!  It's somethin' bad,
+I know.  Somethin' to do with that Holliday Kendrick; it must be or
+he wouldn't have come to East Wellmouth today.  I--I--well, I must
+look, of course.  Oh, Emily, and we thought this was goin' to be a
+merry Christmas, after all."
+
+The enclosure was a long, legal-looking document.  Thankful unfolded
+it, read a few lines and then stopped reading.
+
+"Why--why--" she stammered.
+
+"What is it, Auntie?" pleaded Emily.
+
+"It--I can't make out.  I MUST be crazy, or--or somebody is.  It
+looks like--  Read it, Emily; read it out loud."
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+Captain Obed Bangs rose at his usual hour that Christmas morning,
+and the hour was an early one.  When he looked from his bedroom
+window the clouds were breaking and a glance at his barometer, hung
+on the wall just beside that window, showed the glass to be rising
+and confirmed the promise of a fair day.  He dressed and came
+downstairs.  Hannah Parker came down soon afterward.  The captain
+wished her a merry Christmas.
+
+Miss Parker shook her head; she seemed to be in a pessimistic mood.
+
+"I'm much obliged to you, Cap'n Bangs," she said, "and I'm sure I
+wish you the same.  But I don't know; don't seem as if I was liable
+to have many more merry Christmases in this life.  No, merry
+Christmases ain't for me.  I'm a second fiddle nowadays and I
+cal'late that's what I'm foreordinated to be from now on."
+
+The captain didn't understand.
+
+"Second fiddle," he repeated.  "What have you got to do with
+fiddlin', for goodness' sakes?"
+
+"Nothin', of course.  I don't mean a real fiddle.  I mean I shan't
+never be my own mistress any more.  I've been layin' awake thinkin'
+about it and shiverin', 'twas so damp and chilly up in my room.
+There's a loose shingle right over a knot hole that's abreast a
+crack in my bedroom wall, and it lets in the dampness like a sieve.
+I've asked Kenelm to fix it MORE times; but no, all he cares to do
+is look out for himself and that inmate.  If SHE had a loose
+shingle he'd fix it quick enough.  All I could do this mornin' was
+lay to bed there and shiver and pull up the quilt and think and
+think.  It kept comin' over me more and more."
+
+"The quilt, you mean?  That's what you wanted it to do, wasn't it?"
+
+"Not the quilt.  The thought of the lonesome old age that's comin'
+to me when Kenelm's married.  I've had him to look after for so
+long.  I've been my own boss, as they say."
+
+She might have added, "And Kenelm's, too," but Captain Obed added
+it for her, in his mind.  He laughed.
+
+"That's all right, Hannah," he observed, by way of consolation.
+"Kenelm ain't married yet.  When he is you can help his wife look
+out for him.  Either that or get married.  Why don't you get
+married, Hannah?"
+
+"Humph!  Don't be silly, Obed Bangs."
+
+"That ain't silliness, that's sense.  All you need to do is just
+h'ist the signal, 'Consort wanted,' and you'd have one alongside in
+no time.  There's Caleb Hammond, for instance; he's a widower and--
+eh! look out!"
+
+Miss Parker had dropped the plate she was just putting down upon
+the table.  Fortunately it fell only a few inches and did not
+break.
+
+"What do you mean by that?" she demanded sharply.
+
+"I meant the plate.  Little more and you'd have sent it to glory."
+
+"Never you mind the plate.  I can look out for my own crockery.
+'Twas cracked anyhow.  And I guess you're cracked, too," she added.
+"Talkin' about my--my marryin' Caleb Hammond.  What put that in
+your head?"
+
+"I don't know.  I just--"
+
+"Well, don't be silly.  When I marry Caleb Hammond," she added with
+emphasis, "'twill be after THIS."
+
+"So I cal'lated.  I didn't think you'd married him afore this.
+There now, you missed a chance, Hannah.  You and he ought to have
+got married that time when you went away together."
+
+Miss Parker turned pale.  "When we went--away--TOGETHER!" she
+faltered.  "WHAT are you talkin' about?"
+
+"When you went over to the Cattle Show that time."
+
+"Is that what you meant?"
+
+"Sartin.  What are you glarin' at me that way for?  You ain't been
+away together any other time, have you?  No, Hannah, that was your
+chance.  You and Caleb might have been married in the balloon, like
+the couples we read about in the papers.  Ho! ho!  Think of the
+advertisin' you'd have had!  'A high church weddin'.'  'Bride and
+groom up in the air.'  Can't you see those headlines?"
+
+Hannah appeared more relieved than annoyed.
+
+"Humph!" she sniffed.  "Well, I should say YOU was up in the air,
+Obed Bangs.  What's the matter with you this mornin'?  Has the rain
+soaked into your head?  It seems to be softenin' up pretty fast.
+If you're so set on somebody gettin' married why don't you get
+married yourself?  You've been what the minister calls
+'unattackted' all your life."
+
+The minister had said "unattached," but Captain Obed did not offer
+to correct the quotation.  He joked no more and, during breakfast,
+was silent and absent-minded.
+
+After breakfast he went out for a walk.  The storm had gullied the
+hills and flooded the hollows.  There were pools of water everywhere,
+shining cold and steely in the winter sunshine.  The captain
+remembered the low ground in which the barn and outbuildings upon
+the "Cap'n Abner place" stood, and judged that he and Kenelm might
+have to do some rescue work among the poultry later on.  He went
+back to the house to suggest that work to Mr. Parker himself.
+
+Kenelm and his sister were evidently in the midst of a dispute.
+The former was seated at the breakfast table and Hannah was
+standing by the kitchen door looking at him.
+
+"Goin' off to work Christmas Day!" she said, as the captain
+entered.  "I should think you might stay home with me THAT day, if
+no other.  'Tain't the work you're so anxious to get to.  It's that
+precious inmate of yours."
+
+Kenelm's answer was as surprising as it was emphatic.
+
+"Darn the inmate!" he shouted.  "I wish to thunder I'd never seen
+her!"
+
+Captain Obed whistled.  Miss Parker staggered, but she recovered
+promptly.
+
+"Oh," she said, "that's how you feel, is it?  Well, if I felt that
+way toward anybody I don't think I'd be plannin' to marry 'em."
+
+"Ugh!  What's the use of talkin' rubbish?  I've GOT to marry her,
+ain't I?  She's got that paper I was fool enough to sign.  Oh, let
+me alone, Hannah!  I won't go over there till I have to.  I'd
+ruther stay to home enough sight."
+
+Hannah put her arms about his neck.  "There, there, Kenelm,
+dearie," she said soothingly, "you eat your breakfast like a nice
+brother.  I'LL be good to you, if nobody else ain't.  And I didn't
+have to sign any paper afore I'd do it either."
+
+Kenelm grunted ungraciously.
+
+"'Twas your fault, anyhow," he muttered.  "If you hadn't bossed me
+and driven me into workin' for Thankful Barnes 'twouldn't have
+happened.  I wouldn't have thought of gettin' engaged to be
+married."
+
+"Never mind, dearie.  You ain't married yet.  Perhaps you won't be.
+And, anyhow, you know I'LL never boss you any more."
+
+Kenelm looked at her.  There was an odd expression in his eyes.
+
+"You bet you won't!" he said, slowly.  "I'll see to that."
+
+"Why, Kenelm, what do you mean?"
+
+"I don't mean nothin'--maybe.  Give me some more coffee."
+
+Captain Obed decided that the present was not the time to suggest a
+trip to the High Cliff House.  He went out again, to walk along the
+path and think over what he had just heard.  It was interesting, as
+showing the attitude of one of the contracting parties toward the
+"engagement," the announcement of which had been such a staggering
+finish to the "big day" of the County Fair.
+
+Winnie S. came whistling up the path from the village.
+
+"Hi, Cap'n Bangs!" he shouted.  "I was just goin' to stop at
+Hannah's to tell you somethin'."
+
+"You was, eh?"
+
+"Yup.  Then I was goin' on to the High Cliff.  I've got somethin'
+to take to Mrs. Thankful.  What do you suppose 'tis?"
+
+He exhibited the long envelope.
+
+"John Kendrick sent it to her," he said.  "I don't know what's in
+it.  And he wants you to come to his office right off, Cap'n Obed.
+That's what I was goin' to tell you.  He says not to wait till
+afternoon, same as he said, but to come now.  It's important, he
+says."
+
+John was seated at the desk in his office when the captain opened
+the door.  He bowed gravely.
+
+"Take off your hat and coat, Captain," he said.  "Sit down.  I'm
+glad you got my message and came early.  I am expecting the other
+party at any moment."
+
+Captain Obed was puzzled.
+
+"The other party?" he repeated.  "What other party?"
+
+"My--er--well, we'll call him my client.  He is on his way here and
+I may need you--as a witness."
+
+"Witness?  What to?"
+
+"You will see.  Now, Captain, if you'll excuse me, I have some
+papers to arrange.  Make yourself as comfortable as you can.  I'm
+sure you won't have to wait long."
+
+Fifteen minutes later the rasping, arrogant "honk" of a motor horn
+came from the road outside.  Heavy, important steps sounded upon
+the office platform.  The door opened and in came Mr. E. Holliday
+Kendnick.
+
+Captain Obed had known of the great man's expected arrival, but he
+had not expected it so early in the day.  E. Holliday wore a
+luxurious fur-lined coat and looked as prosperous and important as
+ever, but also--so it seemed to the captain--he looked disturbed
+and puzzled and angry.
+
+The captain rose to his feet and said, "Good morning," but except
+for a nod of recognition, his greeting was unanswered.  Mr.
+Kendrick slammed the door behind him, stalked across the office,
+took a letter from his pocket and threw it down upon his attorney's
+desk.
+
+"What's the meaning of that?" he demanded.
+
+John was perfectly calm.  "Sit down, Mr. Kendrick," he said.
+
+"No, I won't sit down.  What the devil do you mean by sending me
+that thing?  You expected me, didn't you?  You got my wire saying I
+was coming."
+
+"Yes, I got it.  Sit down.  I have a good deal to say and it may
+take some time.  Throw off your coat."
+
+E. Holliday threw the fur coat open, but he did not remove it.  He
+jerked a chair forward and seated himself upon it.
+
+"Now what does that thing mean?" he demanded, pointing to the
+envelope he had tossed on the desk.
+
+John picked up the envelope and opened it.  A letter and a bank
+check fell out.
+
+"I will explain," he said quietly.  "Mr. Kendrick, you know Captain
+Obed Bangs, I think.  Oh, it is all right.  The captain is here at
+my request.  I asked him to be here.  I wanted a reliable witness
+and he is reliable.  This," he went on, taking up the letter, "is a
+note I wrote you, Mr. Kendrick.  It states that I am resigning my
+position as your attorney.  And this," picking up the other paper,
+"is my check for five hundred dollars, the amount of your retainer,
+which I am returning to you. . . .  You understand this so far,
+Captain?"
+
+E. Holliday did not wait to hear whether the captain understood or
+not.  His big face flamed red.
+
+"But what the devil?" he demanded.
+
+John held up his hand.
+
+"One moment, please," he said.  "Captain Bangs, I want to explain a
+few things.  As you know, I have been acting as Mr. Kendrick's
+attorney in the matter of the property occupied by Mrs. Barnes.  He
+wished me to find a means of forcing her to sell that property to
+him.  Now, when a person owning property does not wish to sell,
+that person cannot be forced into giving up the property unless it
+is discovered that the property doesn't belong to that particular
+person.  That's plain, isn't it?"
+
+He was speaking to Captain Obed, and the captain answered.
+
+"But it does belong to her," he declared.  "Her Uncle Abner Barnes
+willed it to her.  Course it belongs to her!"
+
+"I know.  But sometimes there are such things as flaws in a title.
+That is to say, somewhere and at some time there has been a
+transfer of that property that was illegal.  In such a case the
+property belongs to the previous holder, no matter in how many
+instances it has changed hands since.  In the present case it was
+perfectly plain that Mrs. Barnes thought she owned that land,
+having inherited it from her uncle.  Therefore she could not be
+forced to sell unless it was discovered that there was a flaw in
+the title--that she did not own it legally at all.  I told my
+client--Mr. Kendrick, here--that, and he ordered me to have the
+title searched or to search it myself.  I have spent a good deal of
+time at the recorder's office in Ostable doing that very thing.
+And I discovered that there was such a flaw; that Mrs. Barnes did
+not legally own that land upon which her house stands.  And, as the
+land was not hers, the house was not hers either."
+
+Holliday Kendrick struck the desk a thump with his fist.
+
+"Good!" he cried.  "Good enough!  I told 'em I generally got what I
+wanted!  Now I'll get it this time.  Kendrick--"
+
+"Wait," said John.  "Captain Obed, you understand me so far?"
+
+The captain's outraged feelings burst forth.
+
+"I understand it's durn mean business!" he shouted.  "I'm ashamed
+of you, John Kendrick!"
+
+"All right! all right!  The shame can wait.  And I want YOU to
+wait, too--until I've finished.  There was a flaw in that title, as
+I said.  Captain Bangs, as you know, the house in which Mrs. Barnes
+is now living originally stood, not where it now stands, but upon
+land two or three hundred yards to the north, upon a portion of the
+property which afterward became the Colfax estate and which now
+belongs to Mr. Kendrick here.  You know that?"
+
+Captain Obed nodded.  "Course I know it," he said.  "Cap'n Abner
+could have bought the house and the land it stood on, but he didn't
+want to.  He liked the view better from where it stands now.  So he
+bought the strip nigher this way and moved the old house over.  But
+he DID buy it and he paid cash for it.  I know he did, because--"
+
+"All right.  I know he bought it and all the particulars of the
+purchase perhaps better than you do.  A good deal of my time of
+late has been given to investigating the history of that second
+strip of land.  Captain Abner Barnes, Mrs. Barnes' uncle, bought
+the land upon which he contemplated moving, and later, did move the
+house, of Isaiah Holt, Darius Holt's father, then living.  Mr. Holt
+bought of a man named David Snow, who, in turn, bought of--"
+
+Holliday Kendrick interrupted.  "Snow bought of me," he growled.
+"Worse luck!  I was a fool to sell, or so I think now; but it was
+years ago; I had no idea at that time of coming here to live; and
+shore land was of no value then, anyhow.  The strip came to me as a
+part of my father's estate.  I thought myself lucky to get anything
+for it.  But what's all this ancient history got to do with it now?
+And what do you mean by sending me this letter and that check?"
+
+"I'll explain.  I am trying to explain.  The peculiar point comes
+in just here.  You, Mr. Kendrick, never owned that land."
+
+E. Holliday bounced in his chair.
+
+"Didn't own it!" he roared.  "What nonsense are you talking?  The
+land belonged to my father, Samuel Kendrick, and I inherited it
+from him."
+
+"No, you didn't."
+
+"I tell you I did.  He left everything he had to me."
+
+"Yes, so he did.  But he didn't own that land.  He owned it at one
+time, probably he owned it when he made his will, but he didn't own
+it at the time of his death.  Your father, Mr. Kendrick, was in
+financial straits at various times during his residence here in
+Orham and he borrowed a good deal of money.  The most of these were
+loans, pure and simple, but one at least wasn't.  At one time--
+needing money badly, I presume--he sold this strip of land.  The
+purchaser thought it was worth nothing, no doubt, and never
+mentioned owning it--at least, until just before he died.  He simply
+had the deed recorded and forgot it.  Everyone else forgot it, too.
+But the heirs, or the heir, of that purchaser, I discovered, was the
+legal owner of that land."
+
+Captain Obed uttered an exclamation.
+
+"Why, John Kendrick!" he shouted.  "Do you mean--"
+
+"Hush, Captain!  Mr. Kendrick," addressing the red-faced and
+furious gentleman at his left, "have I made myself clear so far?
+Do you follow me?"
+
+"Follow you?  I don't believe it!  I--I--don't believe it!  Who was
+he?  Who did my father sell that land to?"
+
+"He sold it to his brother, Bailey Kendrick, and Bailey Kendrick
+was my father.  Under my father's will what little property he had
+came to me.  If anything is sure in this world, it is that that
+land occupied by Mrs. Barnes belonged, legally, to me."
+
+Neither of his hearers spoke immediately.  Then E. Holliday sprang
+to his feet.
+
+"It belongs to you, does it!" he shouted.  "It belongs to you?  All
+right, so much the better.  I can buy of you as well as anybody
+else.  That's why you sent me back your retainer, was it?  So you
+and I could trade man to man.  All right!  I don't believe it yet,
+but I'll listen to you.  What's your proposition?"
+
+John shook his head.
+
+"No," he said.  "You're wrong there.  I sent you the retainer
+because I wished to be absolutely free to do as I pleased with what
+was mine.  I couldn't remain in your employ and act contrary to
+your interests--or, according to my way of thinking, I couldn't.
+As I saw it I did not own that land--morally, at least.  So, having
+resigned my employment with you I--well, I gave the land to the
+person who, by all that is right and--and HONEST, should own it.  I
+had the deed made out in her name and I sent it to her an hour ago."
+
+Captain Obed had guessed it.  Now HE sprang from his chair.
+
+"John Kendrick," he shouted, in huge delight, "you gave that land
+to Thankful Barnes.  The deed was in that big envelope Winnie S.
+Holt was takin' to her this very mornin'!"
+
+The happenings of the next few minutes were noisy and profane.  E.
+Holliday Kendrick was responsible for most of the noise and all of
+the profanity.  He stormed up and down the office, calling his
+cousin every uncomplimentary name that occurred to him, vowing the
+whole story to be a lie, and that the land should be his anyway;
+threatening suit and personal vengeance.  His last words, as he
+strode to the door, were:
+
+"And--and you're the fellow, the poor relation, that I gave my
+business to just from kindness!  All right!  I haven't finished
+with you yet."
+
+John's answer was calm, but emphatic.
+
+"Very well," he said.  "But this you must understand: I consider
+myself under no obligation whatever to you, Mr. Kendrick.  In the
+very beginning of our business relationship you and I had a plain
+talk.  I told you when I consented to act as your attorney that I
+did so purely as a matter of business and that philanthropy and
+kinship were to have no part in it.  And when you first mentioned
+your intention of forcing Mrs. Barnes to give up her home I told
+you what I thought of that, too."
+
+East Wellmouth's wealthiest summer resident expressed an opinion.
+
+"You're a fool!" he snarled.  "A d--d impractical fool!"
+
+The door slammed behind him.  John laughed quietly.
+
+"As a judge of character, Captain Bangs," he observed, "my
+respected cousin should rank high."
+
+Captain Obed's first act after E. Holliday's departure was to rush
+over, seize the young man's hand with one of his own, and thump him
+enthusiastically upon the back with the other.
+
+"I said it!" he crowed.  "I knew it!  I knew you was all right and
+square as a brick all the time, John Kendrick!  NOW let me meet
+some of those folks that have been talkin' against you!  You never
+did a better day's work in your life.  HE'S down on you, but every
+decent man in Ostable County'll be for you through thick and thin
+after this.  Hooray for our side!  John, shake hands with me again."
+
+They shook, heartily.  The captain was so excited and jubilant that
+he was incoherent.  At last, however, he managed to recover
+sufficiently to ask a question.
+
+"But how did you do it," he demanded.  "How did you get on the
+track of it?  You must have had some suspicions."
+
+John smiled.  His friend's joy evidently pleased him, but he,
+himself, was rather sober and not in the least triumphant.
+
+"I did have a suspicion, Captain," he said.  "In fact, I had been
+told that I had a claim to a piece of land somewhere along the
+shore here in East Wellmouth.  My father told me years ago, when he
+was in his last sickness.  He said that he owned a strip of land
+here, but that it was probably worth little or nothing.  When I
+came here I intended looking into the matter, but I did not do so.
+Where the original deed may be, I don't know even now.  It may be
+among some of my father's papers, which are stored in New York.
+But the record of the transfers I found in Ostable; and that is
+sufficient.  My claim may not be quite as impregnable as I gave my
+late client to understand, but it will be hard to upset.  I am the
+only possible claimant and I have transferred my claim to Mrs.
+Barnes.  The land belongs to her now; she can't be dispossessed."
+
+"But--but, John, why didn't you say so sooner?  What made you let
+everyone think--what they did think?"
+
+Before John could reply there came an interruption.  The door
+opened and Thankful Barnes entered.  She paid no attention to
+Captain Obed, but, walking straight to the desk, laid upon it the
+long envelope which Winnie S. had brought to her house that
+morning.
+
+"Will you tell me," she asked, sharply, "what that means?"
+
+John rose.  "Yes," he said, "I will tell you, Mrs. Barnes.  It is a
+rather long story.  Sit down, please."
+
+Thankful sank into the chair he indicated.  He took up the
+envelope.
+
+"I will tell you, Mrs. Barnes," he said, "why I sent you this deed.
+Don't go, Captain Bangs, you know already and I should like to have
+you stay.  Here is the story, Mrs. Barnes."
+
+He told it briefly, without superfluous words, but so clearly that
+there could be no possibility of a misunderstanding.  When he began
+Thankful's attitude was cold and unbelieving.  When he finished she
+was white and trembling.
+
+"Mrs. Barnes," he said, in conclusion, "I'm a peculiar fellow, I'm
+afraid.  I have rather--well, suppose we call them impractical
+ideas concerning the ethics of my profession, duty to a client, and
+that sort of thing.  I have always been particular in taking a
+case, but when I have taken it I have tried to carry it through.
+I--as you know, I hesitated before accepting my cousin's retaining
+fee and the implied obligation.  However, I did accept."
+
+He might have given his reasons for accepting but he did not.  He
+went on.
+
+"When this matter of your property came up," he said, "I at first
+had no idea that the thing was serious.  You owned the property, as
+I supposed, and that was sufficient.  I had told my cousin that and
+meant to tell you.  I meant to tell you a portion of what I have
+just told the captain here, but I--well, I didn't.  Mr. Daniels'
+remarks irritated me and I--well, he put the case as a test of
+legal skill between himself and me, and--and I have my share of
+pride, I suppose.  So I determined to beat him if I could.  It was
+wrong, as I see it now, and I beg your pardon."
+
+Thankful put a hand to her forehead.
+
+"But you did--beat him, didn't you?" she stammered.  "You found I
+didn't own the land."
+
+"Yes.  I found I owned it myself, legally.  If I had found it
+belonged to anyone else, I--well, I scarcely know what I should
+have done.  You see," with a half smile, "I'm trying to be
+perfectly frank.  Finding that I was the owner made it easy."
+
+She did not understand.  "It made it easy," she repeated slowly.
+"But you gave it to ME!"
+
+He leaned forward.  "Please don't misunderstand me," he said
+earnestly.  "As I see it, that land belonged to you by all that is
+right and fair.  Legally, perhaps, it didn't, but legal honesty
+isn't always moral honesty.  I've found that out even in my limited
+practice."
+
+Captain Obed tried to put in a word.  "Don't you see, Thankful?" he
+said.  "John knew you thought you owned the land and so--"
+
+"Hush!  Please don't.  I--I don't see.  Mr. Kendrick, you--you have
+prided yourself on bein' honest with your clients, and Mr. Holliday
+Kendrick WAS your client."
+
+John smiled.  "I compromised there," he answered.  "I returned his
+money and resigned as his attorney before I sent you the deed.  It
+was a compromise, I admit, but I had to choose between him and--
+well, my honor, if you like; although that sounds theatrical.  I
+chose to be honest with myself--that's all.  The land is yours,
+Mrs. Barnes."
+
+He handed her the envelope containing the deed.  She took it and
+sat there turning it over and over in her fingers, not looking at
+it, but thinking, or trying to think.
+
+"You give it to me," she said.  "It was yours and you give it to
+me.  Why should you?  Do--do you think I can TAKE it from you?"
+
+"Certainly, you must take it."
+
+"But I can't!  I can't!"
+
+"Certainly you can.  Why not?"
+
+"Why NOT?  After the things I've thought about you?  And after the
+way I've treated you?  And--and after Emily--"
+
+"She didn't know either," broke in Captain Obed.  "She didn't
+understand.  She--"
+
+"That's enough, Captain," interrupted John.  "Mrs. Barnes, you
+mustn't misunderstand me again.  Neither you nor--nor Miss Howes
+must misunderstand my motives.  I give this to you because I
+honestly believe it belongs to you, not because I expect anything
+in return.  I--I confess I did hesitate a little.  I feared--I
+feared she--"
+
+"He means Emily," broke in the irrepressible captain.  "You mean
+Emily, don't you, John?"
+
+"Yes," with some embarrassment.  "Yes, I do mean Miss Howes.  She
+and I had been--friends, and I feared she might misinterpret my
+reasons.  It was not until yesterday afternoon, when I learned of
+the--of the engagement, that I felt certain neither you nor she
+could misunderstand.  Then I felt perfectly free to send you the
+deed."
+
+Captain Obed, who had grasped his meaning, would have spoken, but
+Thankful spoke first.  She, evidently, was quite at sea.
+
+"The engagement?" she repeated.  "What engagement?"
+
+"Miss Howes' engagement to Mr. Daniels.  They were congratulating
+him on his engagement yesterday at the station.  I overheard the
+congratulations.  I had not known of it before."
+
+At last Thankful understood.  She looked at the speaker, then at
+Captain Obed, and the color rushed to her face.
+
+"And even though Emily--Hush, Obed Bangs! you keep still--and even
+though you knew Emily was engaged to Heman Daniels, you could still
+give me and her--this?"
+
+"Now, Mrs. Barnes, do you think--"
+
+"Think!  John Kendrick, I think I ought to get down on my knees and
+beg your pardon for what I've thought these last two months.  But
+I'm thinkin' right now and you ain't.  Heman Daniels ain't engaged
+to Emily Howes at all; he's engaged to that Bayport woman, the one
+he's been so attentive to for a year or more.  Oh, it's true!
+Winnie S. told me so just now.  The news had just come to town and
+he was full of it.  Heman's over to Bayport spendin' Christmas with
+her this very minute."
+
+Even Captain Obed had not a word to say.  He was looking at John
+Kendrick and John's face was white.
+
+"And I'll tell you somethin' else," went on Thankful, "somethin'
+that Emily herself told me last night.  She might have been engaged
+to Heman Daniels; he asked her to be.  But she wouldn't have him;
+she told him no."
+
+John stepped from behind the desk.  "She--she told him no," he
+repeated.  "She . . .  Why?"
+
+Thankful laughed aloud.  "That," she cried, "I SHAN'T tell you.  If
+you don't know yourself then I ain't the one to tell you."
+
+Obed was at her side.  "That's enough," he ordered, taking her by
+the arm.  "That's enough, Thankful Barnes.  You come right along
+with me and fetch that deed with you.  This young feller here has
+got some thinkin' to do, I cal'late.  His mind needs overhaulin'.
+You come with me."
+
+
+He led her out to the sidewalk and on until they reached the
+postoffice.  Then, still grasping her arm, he led her into that
+building.  The office was open for a few hours, even though the day
+was Christmas.
+
+"Here!" he whispered, eagerly.  "Stand here by the window where we
+can see whether he comes out or not."
+
+"But, Obed, what are you doin'?"
+
+"Doin'!  I'm waitin' to see whether that boy is a permanent fool or
+just a temporary one.  Wait now; wait and watch."
+
+The wait was but momentary.  The door of John Kendrick's office
+opened and John himself came out.  He shut the door, but he did not
+wait to lock it.  They saw him cross the road and stride off down
+the lane toward the shore.
+
+Captain Obed laughed aloud.
+
+"No," he cried, exultantly, "'twas only temporary.  He's got his
+senses now.  Thankful, let's you and me go for a walk.  We shan't
+be needed at the High Cliff House for a spell--and we won't be
+WANTED there, either."
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+The walk was a long one.  It took them a good way from the more
+populous section of East Wellmouth, over the hills and, at last,
+along the beach at the foot of the bluff.  It was an odd season of
+the year for a stroll by the seaside, but neither Thankful nor the
+captain cared for that.  In fact it is doubtful if either could
+have told afterward just where they had been.  There were so many
+and such wonderful things to tell, to speculate upon, and to
+discuss.
+
+Thankful told of her brother's return, of Mr. Cobb's miraculous
+generosity, and, for the first time, of the ghostly haunting of the
+little back bedroom.  In the latter story Captain Obed seemed to
+find much amusement.  He was skeptical.
+
+"I've heard of a good many ghosts in my time," he said, "but I
+never heard of one that could stand daylight or common-sense.  The
+idea of your bein' troubled all this time by that snorin' business
+or whatever 'tis.  Why didn't you tell me about it?  I'd have had
+that spook out of that bedroom afore this, I bet you."
+
+"It seemed so silly," confessed Thankful, "that I was ashamed to
+tell anybody.  But there's SOMETHIN' there.  I heard it the first
+night I came, and Rebecca Timpson heard it later on, and then Emily
+and I and Solomon heard it all together."
+
+"Yes.  Well, then, let's see WHEN you heard it.  Every time 'twas
+when there was a storm; rain and wind and the like of that, eh?"
+
+"Yes.  I've slept in that room myself a good many times, but never
+when there was a gale of wind or rain.  That's so; 'twas always in
+a storm that it came."
+
+"Um-hum.  And it always snored.  Ho! ho! that IS funny!  A ghost
+with a snore.  Must have a cold in its head, I cal'late."
+
+"You wouldn't laugh if you'd heard it last night.  And it didn't
+snore the first time.  It said 'Oh, Lord,' then."
+
+"Humph! so you said.  Well, that does complicate things, I will
+give in.  The wind in a water-pipe might snore, but it couldn't say
+'Oh, Lord!' not very plain.  You heard that the first night, afore
+Kenelm and I got there."
+
+"Yes.  And there wasn't another person in that house except Emily
+and me; I know that."
+
+"I wonder if you do know it. . . .  Well, I'll have a whack at that
+room myself and if a spook starts snorin when I'm there I'll--I'll
+put a clothespin on its nose, after I've thanked it for scarin' old
+Sol into repentance and decency.  It took a spirit to do that.  No
+livin' human could have worked THAT miracle."
+
+"I agree with you.  Well, now I know why he acted the way he did
+whenever Uncle Abner's name was mentioned.  I have a feelin'--at
+least I imagine there may have been somethin' else, somethin' we
+don't know and never will know, between Solomon and my uncle.
+There may be some paper, some agreement, hid around somewheres that
+is legally bindin' on the old sinner.  I can't hardly believe just
+breakin' a promise would make him give anybody fifteen hundred
+dollars."
+
+"Maybe, but I don't know; he's always been superstitious and a
+great feller for Spiritu'list camp-meetin's and so on.  And he was
+always regular at prayer-meetin'.  Sometimes that sort of a swab,
+knowin' how mean he actually is, tries to square his meanness with
+the Almighty by bein' prominent in the church.  There may be the
+kind of paper you say, but I shouldn't wonder if 'twas just scare
+and a bad conscience."
+
+"Well, I'm grateful to him, anyhow.  And, as for John's kindness,
+I--I don't know what to say.  Last night I thought this might be
+the blackest Christmas ever I had; but now it looks as if it might
+be one of the brightest.  And it's all so strange, so strange it
+should have come on Christmas.  It seems as if the Lord had planned
+it so."
+
+"Maybe He did.  But it ain't so strange when you come to think of
+it.  Your brother came home on Christmas Eve because he thought--or
+I shouldn't wonder if he did--that you'd be more likely to forgive
+him and take him in then.  Solomon came over when he did on account
+of his hearin' that Holliday Kendrick was comin'.  All days,
+Christmas or any other, are alike to Sol when there's a dollar to
+be sighted with a spyglass.  And as for John's givin' you the deed
+today, I presume likely that was a sort of Christmas present;
+probably he meant to give it to you for that.  So the Christmas
+part ain't so wonderful, after all."
+
+"Yes, it is.  It's all wonderful.  I ought to be a very, very happy
+woman.  If John and Emily only come together again I shall be, sure
+and sartin'.  Of course, though," she added, with emphasis, "I
+shan't let him give me that land.  I'll make some arrangement to
+pay him for it, a little at a time, if no other way."
+
+The captain opened his mouth to protest, but there was an air of
+finality in Thankful's tone which caused him to defer the protest
+until another time.
+
+"Well--well, all right," he said.  "That can be talked about later
+on.  But how about yourself?  I suppose you'll keep right on with
+the boardin'-house now?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"It'll be pretty hard work for you alone, won't it?  Especially if
+Emily and John should take a notion to get married."
+
+"Oh, well!  I'm used to bein' alone.  I shan't mind--much.  Why!
+here we are right at the foot of our path.  I've been talkin' so
+fast I didn't realize we'd got here already.  Do you suppose it's
+safe to go up to the house now, Obed?"
+
+"I guess so.  We can go in the kitchen way and I'll make noise
+enough to warn all hands that we're comin'.  Who's that by the back
+door; John, ain't it?  No, it ain't; it's Kenelm."
+
+Kenelm and Imogene were standing at the kitchen door.  When the
+captain and Mrs. Barnes drew near they saw that they were in danger
+of interrupting what seemed to be a serious conversation.  Neither
+of the parties to that conversation noticed them until they were
+close at hand.  Imogene had a slip of paper in her hand.
+
+Captain Obed, whose mind was occupied with but one thought just
+then, asked a question.
+
+"Imogene," he asked in a loud whisper, "where's Miss Emily?"
+
+Imogene started and turned.  Kenelm also started.  He looked
+embarrassed.
+
+"Eh!" cried Imogene.  "Oh, it's you, Mrs. Thankful.  I was
+wonderin' where you was.  I've been havin' a little talk with
+Kenelm here.  It's all right, Mrs. Thankful."
+
+"What's all right?" asked Thankful.
+
+"About your brother workin' here in Kenelm's place.  He don't mind.
+You don't, do you, Kenelm?"
+
+Mr. Parker, who had been standing upon one foot and pawing like a
+restless horse with the other, shifted his position.
+
+"No-o," he drawled.  "I--I don't know's I do."
+
+Thankful was disturbed.  "I'm sorry you said anything yet awhile,
+Imogene," she said.  "My plans about Jedediah are hardly made yet.
+I do hate to make you lose your place, Kenelm.  If I could see my
+way clear to keepin' two men I'd do it, but I declare I can't see
+it."
+
+"That's all right, ma'am," said Kenelm.  "I ain't partic'lar."
+
+"He don't mind a bit, Mrs. Thankful," put in Imogene.  "Honest, he
+don't.  He don't have to work unless he's obliged to--not much
+anyhow.  Kenelm's got money, you know."
+
+"I know; at least I've heard he had some money.  But 'tain't
+because he needs the money that I feel bad; it's because of his
+engagement to you, Imogene.  I suppose you're plannin' to be
+married some time or other and--"
+
+"Oh, that's all right, too," interrupted Imogene eagerly.  "You
+needn't worry about our engagement.  She needn't worry about that,
+need she, Kenelm?"
+
+"No," said Kenelm shortly.
+
+Captain Obed thought it time to repeat his first question.
+
+"Where's Miss Emily?" he asked.
+
+"She's in the livin'-room."
+
+"Is--is anybody with her?"
+
+Imogene nodded.  "Um-hum," she said gleefully, "he's there, too."
+
+"Who?"  The captain and Thankful spoke in concert.
+
+"Mr. John Kendrick.  I let him in and I didn't tell her who it was
+at all.  She didn't know till she went in herself and found him.
+Then I came right out and shut the door.  Oh," with another nod,
+"I've got some sense, even if I did come from the Orphans' Home."
+
+Captain Obed and Thankful looked at each other.
+
+"Then he did come here," exclaimed Thankful.
+
+"Course he did.  I told you he wa'n't quite a fool.  Been there
+some time, has he?"
+
+"Yes.  Shall I tell 'em you've come?  I'll knock first."
+
+"No, no."  Thankful's reply was emphatic.  "Where's the rest of the
+folks?" she asked.
+
+"Georgie and Mr. Cahoon--your brother, I mean--have gone up to the
+village with the other one, the Cobb man."
+
+"What have they gone to the village for?"
+
+"To help Mr. Cobb get his horse and team at Chris Badger's.  He's
+gone, you know."
+
+"Who's gone?"
+
+"Why, the Cobb one.  He's gone home again.  I tried to get him to
+stay for dinner; so did Miss Emily.  We knew you'd want him to.
+But he wouldn't stay.  Said he was goin' home.  Seemed to me he
+wanted to get out of the house quick as ever he could.  He gave
+Georgie a dollar for Christmas."
+
+"WHAT!"  Captain Obed leaned against the corner of the house.  "A
+dollar!" he groaned.  "Sol Cobb gave somebody a dollar for
+Christmas!  Don't pinch me, anybody; I don't want to wake up.  Let
+me enjoy my dream long as I can.  Thankful, did you say Sol looked
+sick?"
+
+"I said he looked pretty nearly sick when he came down this
+mornin'."
+
+"I believe it.  It must have been a mighty serious attack.  Did
+Georgie take the dollar with him?"
+
+"No.  He left it with Miss Emily."
+
+"That's a mercy.  The outdoor air may make Sol feel more rational
+and soon's he came to his senses, he'd want that dollar back.  Tut!
+tut! tut!  Don't talk to ME!  I shall believe in ghosts pretty
+soon."
+
+Thankful looked troubled and annoyed.
+
+"I'm awful sorry he went," she said.  "The poor old thing!  He was
+so miserable I did pity him.  I must drive over and see him
+tomorrow, sure.  But what makes me feel the worst," she added, "is
+to think of Jedediah's cruisin' up to the village dressed in the
+rags he was wearin'.  He looked like--like somethin' the cat
+brought in.  And everybody'll want to know who he is; and when they
+find he's my brother!  And on Christmas Day, too!"
+
+"Imogene!" it was Emily's voice.  "Imogene, where are you?"
+
+Captain Obed roared a greeting.
+
+"Merry Christmas, all hands," he shouted.  "Hey, you, John
+Kendrick; are you there?"
+
+There was no answer.  Thankful did not wait for one; she rushed
+into the house.  John Kendrick was alone in the living-room when
+she reached it.  Emily had fled.  Thankful looked at Mr. Kendrick
+and the look gave her the information she wanted.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Kendrick--John," she cried.  "I shall call you John now; I
+can, can't I--where is she?"
+
+John smiled.  He looked ready to smile at all creation.  "I think
+she is upstairs," he said.  "At least she ran in that direction
+when she heard the captain call."
+
+Thankful started for the hall and the stairs.  At the door she
+turned.
+
+"Don't you go away, John," she ordered.  "Don't you dare go away
+from this house.  You're goin' to have dinner here THIS day, if you
+never do again."
+
+John, apparently, had no intention of going away.  He smiled once
+more and walked toward the dining-room.  Captain Obed met him at
+the threshold.
+
+"Well?" shouted the captain.  "Well?  What have you got to say for
+yourself now, eh?"
+
+John laughed.  "Not much, Captain," he answered, "not much, except
+that I've been an idiot."
+
+"Yup.  All right.  But that ain't what I want to know.  I want to
+know--" he stopped and gazed keenly at his friend's face.  "I don't
+know's I do want to know, either," he added.  "I cal'late I know it
+already.  When a young feller stands around looking as sheepish as
+if he'd been caught stealin' hens' eggs and grinnin' at the same
+time as if he was proud of it, then--then there's just one thing
+happened to him.  I cal'late you've found out why she wouldn't marry
+Heman Daniels, eh?  My, but I'm glad!  You don't deserve it, but I'm
+glad just the same.  Let's shake hands again."
+
+They were still shaking and the captain was crowing like a
+triumphant rooster over his friend's good fortune and the
+humiliation in store for the "tattle-tales and character-naggers"
+among his fellow-townsmen when Imogene appeared.
+
+"Is Mrs. Thankful here?" she asked.  "Well, never mind.  You'll do,
+Cap'n Bangs.  Will you and Mr. Kendrick come out here to the back
+door a minute?  I'd like to have you witness somethin'."
+
+Captain Obed's forehead wrinkled in surprise.
+
+"Witness somethin'?" he repeated.  Then, with a glance at John, who
+was as puzzled as he, "Humph!  I witnessed somethin' this mornin'
+and now I'm to witness somethin' else.  I'll begin to be an expert
+pretty soon, won't I?  Humph!  What--well, heave ahead, Imogene.
+I'll come."
+
+Imogene conducted them to the kitchen door where Mr. Parker still
+stood, looking remarkably foolish.  Imogene's manner, however, was
+very business-like.
+
+"Now then," she said, addressing the two "witnesses," "you see this
+piece of paper.  Perhaps you'd better read it first."
+
+She handed the paper to Captain Obed, who looked at it and passed
+it over to John.  It was the statement, signed by Kenelm, in which
+he agreed to marry Imogene whenever she asked him to do so.
+
+"You see what 'tis, don't you?" asked Imogene.  "Yes.  Well, now
+you watch and see what I do with it."
+
+She tore the agreement into small pieces.  Stepping into the
+kitchen she put the pieces in the stove.
+
+"There!" she exclaimed, returning to the door.  "That ends that.
+He and I," pointing to Kenelm, "ain't engaged any longer, and he
+don't have to work here any longer.  Is it all plain to both of
+you?"
+
+It was not altogether plain even yet.  The expression on the faces
+of the witnesses proved that.
+
+"Now, Kenelm," said Imogene cheerfully, "you can leave if you want
+to.  And," with a mischievous chuckle, "when you get there you can
+give your sister my love, the inmate's love, you know.  Lordy!
+Won't she enjoy gettin' it!"
+
+When Kenelm had gone, which he did immediately and without a word,
+Imogene vouchsafed an explanation.
+
+"I never did want to marry him," she said.  "When I get ready to
+marry anybody it'll be somebody with more get-up-and-git than he's
+got, I hope.  But I was ready to do anything to help Mrs. Thankful
+from frettin' and when he talked about quittin' his job right in
+the busy season I had to keep him here somehow, I just HAD to.  He
+was kind of--of mushy and soft about me first along--I guess guys
+of his kind are likely to be about any woman that'll listen to 'em--
+and when his sister got jealous and put him up to leavin' I
+thought up my plan.  I got him to ask me--he'd as much as asked me
+afore--and then I made him sign that paper.  Ugh! the silliness I
+had to go through afore he would sign it!  Don't ask me about it or
+I shan't eat any dinner.  But he did sign it and I knew I had him
+under my thumb.  He's scared of that sister of his, but he's more
+scared of losin' his money.  And she's just as scared of that as he
+is.  THEY didn't want any breachin' of promises--No sir-ee!  Ho! ho!"
+
+She stopped to laugh in gleeful triumph.  John laughed too.
+Captain Obed scratched his head.
+
+"But, hold on there; heave to, Imogene!" he ordered.  "I don't seem
+to get the whole of this yet.  You did agree to marry him.  Suppose
+he'd said you'd got to marry him, what then?"
+
+"He wouldn't.  He didn't want to marry me--not after I'd took my
+time at bossin' him around a while.  And if he had--well, if he
+had, and I'd had to do it, I would, I suppose.  I'd do anything for
+Mrs. Thankful, after what's she's done for me.  Miss Emily and me
+had a talk about self-sacrifice and I see my duty plain.  I told
+Miss Emily why I did it that night when you all came home from the
+Fair.  She understood the whole thing."
+
+The captain burst into a roar of laughter.
+
+"Ho! ho!" he shouted.  "Well, Imogene, I said you beat all my goin'
+to sea, and you do--you sartin do.  Now, I'd like to be on hand and
+see how Hannah takes it.  If I know her, now that that engagement
+ain't hangin' over her, she'll even up with her brother for all
+she's had to put up with.  Ho! ho!  Poor old Kenelm's in for a warm
+Christmas."
+
+And yet Kenelm's Christmas was not so "warm" after all.  He told
+Hannah of his broken engagement, wasting no words--which, for him,
+was very remarkable--and expressing no regret whatever.  Hannah
+listened, at first with joy, and then, when Imogene's "love" was
+conveyed to her, with growing anger.
+
+"The idea!" she cried.  "And you bring me over a message like that.
+From her--from an Orphans' Home inmate to your own sister!  And you
+let her walk over you, chuck you out as if you was a wornout
+doormat she'd wiped her boots on, and never said a word.  Well,
+I'll say it for you.  I'll tell her what I think of her.  And she
+was cal'latin' to sue YOU for breaches of promise, was she?  Humph!
+Two can play at that game.  I don't know's I shan't have you sue
+her."
+
+"I don't want to.  I told you this mornin' I didn't care nothin'
+about marryin' her.  And you didn't want me to yourself.  Now that
+it's all over you ought to he happy, I should think.  I don't see
+what you're growlin' about."
+
+"No, I suppose you don't.  You--you," with withering contempt, "you
+haven't got the self-respect of--of a woodtick.  I'm--I declare I'm
+perfectly prospected with shame at havin' such a brother in my
+family.  And after cruisin' around with her and takin' her to the
+Cattle Show--"
+
+"You went to the Cattle Show yourself."
+
+"I don't care if I did.  Now you march yourself upstairs and change
+your clothes."
+
+"Aw, now, Hannah.  These clothes are good enough."
+
+"Good enough!  For Christmas Day!  I should think you'd be ashamed.
+Oh, you make me so provoked!  If folks knew what I know about you--"
+
+Kenelm interrupted, a most unusual thing for him.
+
+"S'posin' they knew what I know about you," he observed.
+
+"What?  What do you mean by that?  What have I done to be ashamed
+of?"
+
+"I don't know.  I don't know what you did.  I don't even know where
+you went.  But when a person crawls down a ladder in the middle of
+the night and goes off somewhere with--with somebody else and don't
+get home until 'most mornin', then--well, then I cal'late folks
+might be interested if they knew, that's all."
+
+Hannah's face was a picture, a picture to be studied.  For the
+first time in her life she was at a loss for words.
+
+"I ain't askin' no questions," went on Kenelm calmly.  "I ain't
+told nobody and I shan't unless--unless somebody keeps naggin' and
+makes me mad.  But I shan't change my clothes this day; and I
+shan't do nothin' else unless I feel like it, either."
+
+His sister stared at him blankly for a moment.  Then she fled from
+the room.  Kenelm took his pipe from his pocket, filled and lighted
+it, and smoked, smiling between puffs at the ceiling.  The future
+looked serene and rosy--to Kenelm.
+
+
+Christmas dinner at the High Cliff House was a joyful affair,
+notwithstanding that the promise of fair weather had come to naught
+and it was raining once more.  John stayed for that dinner, so did
+Captain Obed.  The former and Miss Emily said very little and their
+appetites were not robust, but they appeared to be very happy
+indeed.  Georgie certainly was happy and Jedediah's appetite was
+all that might have been expected of an appetite fed upon the
+cheapest of cheap food for days and compelled to go without any
+food for others.  Thankful was happy, too, or pretended to be, and
+Captain Obed laughed and joked with everyone.  Yet he seemed to
+have something on his mind, and his happiness was not as complete
+as it might have been.
+
+Everyone helped Imogene wash the dishes; then John and Emily left
+the kitchen bound upon some mysterious errand.  Captain Obed and
+Georgie donned what the captain called "dirty weather rigs" and
+went out to give George Washington and Patrick Henry and the
+poultry their Christmas dinner.
+
+The storm had flooded the low land behind the barn.  The hen yard
+was in the center of a miniature island.  The walls of the pigsty
+which Thankful had had built rose from a lake.
+
+"It's a mercy Pat moved to drier quarters, eh, second mate!"
+chuckled the captain.  "He'd have had to sleep with a life-
+preserver on if he stayed here."
+
+They fed the hens and gave George Washington a liberal measure of
+oats and a big forkful of hay.
+
+"Don't want him to go hungry Christmas Day," said Captain Obed.
+"Now let's cruise around and see if Patrick Henry is singin' out
+for liberty or death."
+
+The pig was not, apparently, "singing out" for anything.  When they
+reached the wall of the pen by the washshed he was not in sight.
+But they heard him, somewhere back in the darkness beneath the
+shed, breathing stertorously, apparently sound asleep.
+
+Georgie laughed.  "Hear him," he said.  "He's so fat he always
+makes that noise when he's asleep.  And he's awful smart.  When
+it's warm and nice weather he sleeps out here in the sun.  When it
+rains and is cold, same as now, he always goes way back in there.
+Hear him!  Don't he make a funny noise."
+
+Emily came hurrying around the corner of the house.
+
+"Captain Bangs," she whispered.  "Captain Bangs!"
+
+The captain looked at her.  He was about to ask why she whispered
+instead of speaking aloud, but the expression on her face caused
+him to change his question to "What's the matter?"
+
+Emily looked at Georgie before replying.
+
+"I--I want to see you," she answered.  "I want you to come with me.
+Come quick.  Georgie, you must stay in the kitchen with Imogene."
+
+Georgie did not want to stay in the kitchen, but when he found
+Jedediah there he was more complacent.  The ex-gold seeker and his
+tales of adventure had a tremendous fascination for Georgie.
+
+Emily led the way toward the front stairs and Captain Obed
+followed.
+
+"What's up?" he whispered.  "What's all the mystery about?"
+
+"We don't know--yet.  But we want you to help us find out.  John
+and I have been up to look at the haunted room and--and IT'S THERE."
+
+"There!  What?"
+
+"The--the ghost, or whatever it is.  We heard it.  Come!"
+
+At the door of the rooms which were the scene of Mr. Cobb's recent
+supernatural experience and of Miss Timpson's "warning" they found
+Thankful and John standing, listening.  Thankful looked rather
+frightened.  John was eager and interested.
+
+"You found him, Emily," he whispered.  "Good.  Captain, you and I
+are commissioned to lay the ghost.  And the ghost is in.  Listen!"
+
+They listened.  Above the patter and rattle of the rain on the roof
+they heard a sound, the sound which two or three members had heard
+the previous night, the sound of snoring.
+
+"I should have gone in before," whispered John, "but they wanted me
+to wait for you.  Come on, Captain."
+
+They opened the door of the larger room and entered on tiptoe.  The
+snoring was plainly heard now and it seemed, as they expected, to
+come from the little room adjoining.  Into that room the party
+proceeded, the men in the lead.  There was no one there save
+themselves and nothing out of the ordinary to be seen.  But the
+snoring kept on, plainer than ever.
+
+John looked behind the furniture and under the bed.
+
+"It's no use doin' that," whispered Thankful.  "I've done that
+myself fifty times."
+
+Captain Obed was walking about the room, his ear close to the wall,
+listening.  At a point in the center of the rear wall, that at the
+back of the house, he stopped and listened more intently than ever.
+
+"John," he whispered eagerly, "come here."
+
+John came.
+
+"Listen," whispered the captain.  "It's plainer here than anywhere
+else, ain't it?"
+
+"Yes.  Yes, I think it is.  But where does it come from?"
+
+"Somewhere overhead, seems to me.  Give me that chair."
+
+Cautiously and silently he placed the chair close to the wall,
+stood upon it, and, with his ear against the wallpaper, moved his
+head backward and forward and up and down.  Then he stopped moving
+and reaching up felt along the wall with his hands.
+
+"I've got it," he whispered.  "Here's the place."
+
+His fingers described a circle on the wall.  He tapped gently in
+the middle of the circle.
+
+"Hark!" he said.  "All solid out here, but here--hollow as a drum.
+It's--it's a stovepipe hole, that's what 'tis.  There was a stove
+here one time or 'nother and the pipe hole was papered over."
+
+"But--but what of it?" whispered Thankful.  "I don't care about
+stovepipe holes.  It's that dreadful noise I want to locate.  I
+hear it now, just as plain as ever."
+
+"Where could a stovepipe go to from here?" mused the captain.  "Not
+into the kitchen; the kitchen chimney's way over t'other side.
+Maybe there was a chimney here afore the house was moved."
+
+"But the snoring?" faltered Emily.  "Don't you hear it?"
+
+Captain Obed put his ear against the covered stovepipe hole.  He
+listened and as he listened his face took on a new expression, an
+expression of sudden suspicion, then of growing certainty, and, a
+moment later, of huge amusement.
+
+He stepped down from the chair.
+
+"Stay right where you are," he ordered.  "Don't move and don't make
+any noise.  I'll be right back."
+
+He hurried out.  They waited.  The snoring kept on and on.
+Suddenly it ceased.  Then, in that very room, or so it seemed,
+sounded a grunt and a frightened squeal.  And then a voice, a
+hollow voice which cried:
+
+"Ahoy, all hands!  I'm the ghost of Nebuchadnezzar's first wife and
+I want to know what you folks mean by wakin' me up."
+
+The three in the back bedroom looked at each other.
+
+"It's Captain Bangs!" cried Emily.
+
+"It's Obed!" exclaimed Thankful.
+
+"He's found it," shouted Kendrick.  "Come on."
+
+The captain was not in the kitchen when they got there.  He had
+gone out of doors, so Imogene said.  Unmindful of the rain they
+rushed out and around the corner, behind and below the washshed.
+Patrick Henry was running about his pen, apparently much disturbed,
+but Captain Obed was not in sight.
+
+"Where is he?" demanded Thankful.  "Where's he gone to?"
+
+"Hello there, John!" cried a voice from the darkness at the rear of
+the pigsty under the kitchen.  "Come in here.  Never mind your
+clothes.  Come in."
+
+John vaulted over the rail of the pen and disappeared.  A few
+moments later he came out again in company with the captain.  Both
+were laughing heartily.
+
+"We've got the answer," puffed Captain Obed, who was out of breath.
+"We've laid the ghost.  You remember I told you that day when we
+first explored this place that old Laban Eldredge had this pigpen
+built.  Afore that 'twas all potato cellar, and at one time afore
+the house was made over there must have been a stove in that back
+bedroom.  There's no chimney, but there's cracks between the boards
+at the back of that pigpen and any noise down here goes straight up
+between the walls and out of that stovepipe hole like a speakin'
+tube.  You heard me when I spoke to you just now, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes--yes," answered Emily.  "We heard you, but--but what was it
+that snored?  What was the ghost?"
+
+Captain Obed burst into a shout of laughter.  "There he is," he
+said, pointing.
+
+Thankful and Emily looked.
+
+"What?" cried the latter.
+
+"The PIG?" exclaimed Thankful.
+
+"That's what.  Georgie gave me a hint when he and I was out here
+just now.  Old Pat was asleep way in back there and snorin' like a
+steam engine.  And Georgie said he never slept there unless 'twas a
+storm, rainin' same as 'tis now.  And every time you heard the--ho!
+ho!--the ghost, 'twas on a stormy night.  It stormed the night you
+got here, and when Becky Timpson had her warnin', and last night
+when Sol Cobb got his.  Ho! ho! ho!  Patrick Henry's the ghost.
+Well, he's a healthy old spirit."
+
+Emily laughed until the tears came into her eyes.
+
+"The pig!" she cried.  "Oh, Aunt Thankful!  You and I were
+frightened almost to death last night--and of that creature there.
+Oh, dear me!"
+
+Thankful laughed, too, but she was not fully convinced.
+
+"Maybe 'twas the pig that snored," she admitted.  "And of course
+whatever we heard came up that pipe hole.  But there was no pig
+there on that first night; I didn't buy the pig until long
+afterwards.  And, besides, what I heard THAT night talked; it said,
+'Oh, Lord!'  Patrick Henry may be a smart pig, but he can't talk."
+
+This was something of a staggerer, but the captain was still
+certain he was on the right track.
+
+"Then somethin' else was there," he declared.  "Somebody was down
+under the house here, that's sartin.  Who could it have been?
+Never mind; I'll find out.  We'll clear up the whole of this ghost
+business, now we've got started.  Maybe we can find some hint in
+there now.  John, go up and fetch a lantern, there's a good fellow,
+and we'll have a look."
+
+John brought the lantern and by its light the two men explored the
+recesses of Patrick Henry's bed chamber.  When they emerged,
+covered with dust and cobwebs, the captain held something in his
+hand.
+
+"I don't know what 'tis," he said.  "Maybe nothin' of any account,
+but 'twas trod down in the corner close to the wall.  Humph?  Eh?
+Why, it's a mitten, ain't it?"
+
+It was a mitten, a much worn one, and on the inside of the wrist-
+hand were worked three letters.
+
+"K. I. P." read Captain Obed.  "What's 'K. I. P.' stand for?"
+
+Imogene, who had joined the group, clapped her hands.
+
+"I know," she cried.  "Kenelm Issachar Parker."
+
+Thankful nodded.  "That's it," she agreed.  "And--and--why, now I
+come to think of it, I remember hearin' Hannah pitchin' into Kenelm
+that first mornin' after our night at her house, for losin' his
+umbrella and a mitten."
+
+"Right you are!" Captain Obed slapped his knee.  "And Kenelm was
+out somewheres that night afore he and I came over here.  He found
+his umbrella and he brought it home whole a week or so later.  But
+it wa'n't whole all that time, because Seth Ellis told me Kenelm
+brought an umbrella in for him to fix.  All turned inside out it
+was.  Eh?  Yes, sir!  We're gettin' nigher port all the time.
+Kenelm came by this house that night, because 'twas him that saw
+your light in the window.  I'll bet you he smashed his new umbrella
+on the way down from the club and crawled in here out of the wet to
+fix it.  He couldn't fix it, so he left it here and came back after
+it the next day.  And 'twas then he dropped this mitten."
+
+Emily offered a suggestion.
+
+"You said you saw someone hiding behind the henhouse that next
+morning, Captain," she said.
+
+"So I did.  And I thought 'twas one of Solon Taylor's boys.  I'll
+bet 'twas Kenelm; he'd sneaked over to get the umbrella.  It was
+him that said, 'Oh, Lord' that night; I'll bet high on it.  When he
+thought of what Hannah'd say to his smashin' the umbrella she gave
+him it's a wonder he didn't say more than that.  That's the answer--
+the whole answer--and I'll prove it next time I see Kenelm."
+
+Which, by the way, he did.
+
+Later in the afternoon John and Emily walked up to the village
+together.  They asked Thankful and Captain Obed to accompany them,
+but the invitation was declined.  However, as John had suddenly
+remembered that he had left his office door unlocked, he felt that
+he should go and Emily went with him.
+
+"I presume likely," observed the captain, as he looked after them,
+"that I ought to feel conscience-struck for not sayin' yes when
+they asked me to come along, but somehow I don't.  I have a
+sneakin' feelin' that they'll get on first-rate without our
+company, Thankful."
+
+Thankful was silent.  She was sitting by the window.  The pair were
+alone together in the living-room now.  Imogene and Jedediah and
+Georgie were in the kitchen making molasses candy.
+
+"Well," observed Captain Obed, "that's so, ain't it?  Don't you
+agree with me?"
+
+Still there was no answer and, turning, the captain was surprised
+to see his companion wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.
+
+"For thunder sakes!" he exclaimed, in dismay.  "What's happened
+now?  Are you cryin'?"
+
+Thankful tried to smile.  "No," she said.  "I'm not cryin'.  At
+least, I hadn't ought to cry.  I ought to be awful happy and I am.
+Seein' those two go off together that way made me think that pretty
+soon they'd be goin' away for good.  And I--I was a little
+lonesome, I guess."
+
+"Sho! sho!  You mustn't be lonesome.  They won't get married yet
+awhile, I cal'late."
+
+"No.  I suppose not.  But Emily will have to go next week back to
+her school, and she'll take Georgie with her.  I'll miss 'em both
+terribly."
+
+"Yes, so you will.  But you've got your brother now.  He'll be some
+company."
+
+"Yes.  But, unless he's changed more than I'm afraid he has, he'll
+be more responsibility than comfort.  He means well enough, poor
+Jed, but he ain't what you'd call a capable person."
+
+"Well, Imogene's capable enough, and she'll be here."
+
+"Yes."
+
+Silence for a time.  Then Captain Obed spoke.
+
+"Thankful," he said, earnestly, "I know what's worryin' you.  It's
+just what you said, the responsibility of it all.  It's too much
+for you, the responsibility of handlin' this big house and a
+houseful of boarders when they come.  You hadn't ought to do it
+alone.  You ought to have somebody to help."
+
+"Perhaps I had, but I don't know who 'twill be.  I can't afford to
+hire the kind of help I need."
+
+"Why don't you take a partner?"
+
+"A partner?  Who, for goodness sakes?"
+
+"Well--me.  I've got some money of my own.  I'll go in partners
+with you here. . . .  Oh, now, now!" he added hastily.  "Don't
+think there's any charity in this.  There ain't at all.  As I see
+it, this boardin' house is mighty good business and a safe
+investment.  Suppose you and I go in partners on it, Thankful."
+
+Thankful shook her head.
+
+"You're awfully good," she said.
+
+"No, I ain't."
+
+"Yes, you are.  But I couldn't do it, Obed."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"You know why not.  For the same reason I couldn't say yes to what
+you asked me a while ago.  I can't let you help me out of pity."
+
+"Pity!"  He turned and stared at her.  "Pity!" he repeated.
+
+"Yes, pity.  I know you're sorry for me.  You said you were.  And I
+know you'd do anything to help me, even--even--"
+
+He interrupted.
+
+"Thankful Barnes," he said, "did you think I asked you what I asked
+that time out of PITY?"
+
+"Now, Obed--"
+
+"Stop!  Answer me.  Did you think such a fool thing as THAT?  You
+stay right where you are!  I want you to look me in the face."
+
+"Don't, Obed!  Don't!  Let me be.  Don't!"
+
+He paid not the slightest attention.  He was bending over her, his
+hand beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him.
+
+"Don't, Obed!" she begged.
+
+"Thankful, you tell me.  Did you think I asked you to marry me just
+because I pitied you.  Just because I was sorry for you?  Did you?"
+
+"Obed, please!"
+
+"Thankful, I've come to care for you more'n anything else in the
+world.  I don't pity you.  I've been pityin' myself for the last
+month because I couldn't have you--just you.  I want you, Thankful
+Barnes, and if you'll marry me I'll be the happiest critter that
+walks."
+
+"Oh, Obed, don't make it so hard for me.  You said you wouldn't.
+And--and you can't care--really."
+
+"I can't!  Do you care for me?  That's what I want to know."
+
+"Obed, you and I ain't young folks.  We're gettin' on towards old
+age.  What would folks say if--"
+
+He threw his arms about her and literally lifted her from the
+chair.
+
+"I don't care a durn WHAT they say," he shouted, exultantly.
+"You've said what I was waitin' for.  Or you've looked it, anyhow.
+Now then, WHEN shall we be married?  That's the next thing for you
+to say, my girl."
+
+
+They sat there in the gathering dusk and talked.  The captain was
+uproariously gay.  He could scarcely keep still, but whistled and
+drummed tunes upon the chair arm with his fingers.  Thankful was
+more subdued and quiet, but she was happy, completely happy at
+last.
+
+"This'll be some boardin'-house, this one of ours," declared the
+captain.  "We'll build the addition you wanted and we'll make the
+city folks sit up and take notice.  And," with a gleeful chuckle,
+"we won't have any ghost snorin' warnin's, either."
+
+Thankful laughed.  "No, we won't," she said.  "And yet I'm awfully
+grateful to that--that--that pig ghost.  If it hadn't been for him
+that mortgage would still be hangin' over us.  And Solomon would
+never have been scared into doin' what he promised Uncle Abner he
+would do.  Perhaps he'll be a better man, a more generous man to
+some of his other poor victims after this.  I hope he will."
+
+"So do I, but I have my doubts."
+
+"Well, we'll never kill old Patrick Henry, will we?  That would be
+TOO ungrateful."
+
+Captain Obed slapped his knee.
+
+"Kill him!" he repeated: "I should say not!  Why, he's your Uncle
+Abner and Rebecca Timpson's sister Medora and old Laban Eldredge
+and I don't know how many more.  Killin' him would be a double
+back-action massacre.  No indeed, we won't kill him!  Come on,
+let's go out and have a look at him now.  I'd like to shake his
+hand, if he had one."
+
+"But, Obed, it's rainin'."
+
+"What of it?  We don't care for rain.  It's goin' to be all
+sunshine for you after this, my lady.  I'm the weather prophet and
+I tell you so.  God bless you, Thankful Barnes."
+
+Thankful smiled.
+
+"He has blessed me already, Obed," she said.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg Etext Thankful's Inheritance, by J. C. Lincoln
+
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