11 files changed, 58081 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/2552-0.txt b/2552-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a8f4578
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2552-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,13584 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Thankful's Inheritance, by Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Thankful's Inheritance
+
+Author: Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+Release Date: May 18, 2006 [EBook #2552]
+Last Updated: March 5, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THANKFUL'S INHERITANCE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Donald Lainson
+
+
+
+
+
+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 be 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 be 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's Thankful's Inheritance, by Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THANKFUL'S INHERITANCE ***
+
+***** This file should be named 2552-0.txt or 2552-0.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/5/2552/
+
+Produced by Donald Lainson
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation”
+ or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right
+of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/2552-0.zip b/2552-0.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dfefb7d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2552-0.zip
diff --git a/2552-h.zip b/2552-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..58b2556
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2552-h.zip
diff --git a/2552-h/2552-h.htm b/2552-h/2552-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b4bc1d5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2552-h/2552-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,16745 @@
+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+   PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Thankful's Inheritance, by Joseph C. Lincoln
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Thankful's Inheritance, by Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Thankful's Inheritance
+
+Author: Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+Release Date: May 18, 2006 [EBook #2552]
+Last Updated: March 5, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THANKFUL'S INHERITANCE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      THANKFUL'S INHERITANCE
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By Joseph C. Lincoln
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a>
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;heave
+      up&rdquo; his job first.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;boot&rdquo;
+       to the rings on the collar of General Jackson, the aged horse, he
+      expressed his opinion of the road, the night, and the job.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By Judas priest!&rdquo; declared Winnie S.&mdash;his name was Winfield Scott
+      Hancock Holt, but no resident of East Wellmouth called him anything but
+      Winnie S.&mdash;&ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From the curtain depths of the depot-wagon behind him a voice answered, a
+      woman's voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judgin' by the amount of dampness in it I should think you might call it
+      a duck's life,&rdquo; it suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Winnie S. accepted this pleasantry with a grunt. &ldquo;I 'most wish I was a
+      duck,&rdquo; he declared, savagely. &ldquo;Then I could set in three inches of
+      ice-water and like it, maybe. Now what's the matter with you?&rdquo; This last a
+      roar to the horse, whose splashy progress along the gullied road had
+      suddenly ceased. &ldquo;What's the matter with you now?&rdquo; repeated Winnie. &ldquo;What
+      have you done; come to anchor? Git dap!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But General Jackson refused to &ldquo;git dap.&rdquo; Jerks at the reins only caused
+      him to stamp and evince an inclination to turn around. Go ahead he would
+      not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judas priest!&rdquo; exclaimed the driver. &ldquo;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,&rdquo; adding, as he took
+      a lighted lantern from beneath the seat and pulled aside the heavy boot
+      preparatory to alighting, &ldquo;unless I get in over my head, which ain't so
+      dummed unlikely as it sounds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lantern in hand he clambered clumsily from beneath the boot and
+      disappeared. Inside the vehicle was blackness, dense, damp and profound.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie,&rdquo; said a second feminine voice, &ldquo;Auntie, what DO you suppose has
+      happened?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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!&rdquo; as another gust shot and beat its
+      accompanying cloudburst through and between the carriage curtains; &ldquo;right
+      in my face and eyes! I don't wonder that boy wished he was a duck. I'd
+      like to be a fish&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily laughed. &ldquo;Aunt Thankful,&rdquo; she declared, &ldquo;I believe you would find
+      something funny in a case of smallpox.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe I should; I never tried. 'Twouldn't be much harder than to be funny
+      with&mdash;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;cruise.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;kept house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A flash of light showed above the top of the carriage boot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy on us!&rdquo; cried Aunt Thankful. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judas priest!&rdquo; he gasped. &ldquo;If this ain't&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You needn't say it. We'll agree with you,&rdquo; interrupted Mrs. Barnes,
+      hastily. &ldquo;Is anything the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The driver's reply was in the form of elaborate sarcasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no!&rdquo; he drawled, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well, they'll do for a spell. How's the weather, any worse?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we're out of that stretch of woods, anyhow,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily said nothing. Aunt Thankful chuckled at the word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Snug!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, our hotel where you're bound is a good two mile, but there's&mdash;Judas
+      priest! there goes that breechin' again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; declared Winnie S. &ldquo;The fust mile's gone. I don't know's I hadn't
+      ought to stop&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Thankful interrupted. &ldquo;Stop!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;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&mdash;this machine of yours is
+      wound up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judas priest!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;There goes that wheel! I've, been expectin'
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you goin'?&rdquo; demanded Mrs. Barnes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoa!&rdquo; he hollered. &ldquo;Whoa! Stand still! Stand still where you be! Whoa!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoa!&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be you hurt? Be you hurt?&rdquo; demanded Winnie S.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From inside, the tightly drawn curtains there came a variety of sounds,
+      screams, exclamations, and grunts as of someone gasping for breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be you hurt?&rdquo; yelled the frantic Mr. Holt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was the voice of the younger passenger which first made coherent reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; it panted. &ldquo;No, I&mdash;I think I'm not hurt. But Aunt Thankful&mdash;Oh,
+      Auntie, are you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Thankful herself interrupted. Her voice was vigorous enough, but it
+      sounded as if smothered beneath a heavy weight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; she gasped. &ldquo;I&mdash;I'm all right. I'm all right. Or I guess I
+      shall be when you get&mdash;off of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judas priest!&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy on us!&rdquo; exclaimed the lady, as her companions assisted her to rise.
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;why, that's a house, I do believe! We're in somebody's yard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We're in somebody's yard,&rdquo; repeated Thankful. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hi! Where you be?&rdquo; he shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; was the answer. &ldquo;Here, by the front door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey? Oh, all right. Stay where you be. I'll be there pretty soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The &ldquo;pretty soon&rdquo; was not very soon. Mrs. Barnes began to lose patience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't goin' to roost on this step till mornin',&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;I'm
+      goin' inside. Ain't that a bell handle on your side of the door, Emily?
+      Give it a pull, for mercy sakes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Auntie&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She gave the glass knob a sharp jerk. From within sounded the jingle of an
+      old-fashioned spring bell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;I guess they'll hear that. Anyway, I'll give 'em
+      one more for good measure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She jerked the bell again. The peal died away in a series of lessening
+      tinkles, but there was no other sound from within.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They must be sound sleepers,&rdquo; whispered Emily, after a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They must be dead,&rdquo; declared Thankful. &ldquo;There's been smashin' and
+      crackin' and hollerin' enough to wake up anybody that wa'n't buried. How
+      that wind does blow! I&mdash;Hello! here comes that man at last. About
+      time, I should say!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Winnie S. appeared, bearing the lantern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you doin'?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;There ain't no use ringin' that bell.
+      Nobody'll hear it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful, who had just given the bell a third pull, took her hand from the
+      knob.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; she demanded. &ldquo;It makes noise enough. I should think a graven
+      image would hear it. What is this, a home for deaf people?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Winnie S. grinned. &ldquo;'Tain't nobody's home, not now,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;This house
+      is empty. Ain't nobody lived in it for 'most a year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two women looked at each other. Mrs. Barnes drew along breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she observed, &ldquo;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,&rdquo; sharply, &ldquo;what shall we do
+      next?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The driver shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dummed if I know!&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;The old wagon can't go another yard. I&mdash;I
+      cal'late you folks'll have to stay here for a spell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stay? Where'll we stay; out here in the middle of this howlin'
+      wilderness?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How far off is this&mdash;this village of yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, about a mile and a half!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily nodded. &ldquo;Of course, Auntie,&rdquo; she said, emphatically. &ldquo;We couldn't
+      walk a mile and a half in a storm like this. Of course we must wait. Where
+      is the shed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The driver, holding the lantern aloft, looked about him. His two
+      passengers looked also.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; observed Thankful, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Winnie S. turned away. Then he turned back again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe I'd better leave you the lantern,&rdquo; he said, doubtfully. &ldquo;I guess
+      likely I could get along without it and&mdash;and 'twould make it more
+      sociable for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He put the lantern down on the earth floor beside them and strode off into
+      the dark. Mrs. Barnes called after him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't there any way of gettin' into that house?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;It acts as
+      if 'twas goin' to storm hard as ever and this shed ain't the most&mdash;what
+      did you call it?&mdash;sociable place in creation, in spite of the
+      lantern. If we could only get inside that house&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Winnie S. interrupted. They could not see him, but there was a queer note
+      in his voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get inside!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Get into THAT house this time of night! Well&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie, where are you going?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Auntie&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lantern in hand, she splashed out into the wet, windy darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Miss Howes, left to share with General Jackson the &ldquo;sociability&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emily!&rdquo; screamed Mrs. Barnes. &ldquo;Emily! Come here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily came, fighting her way against the wind. She found her cousin
+      standing by the corner of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got it,&rdquo; cried Aunt Thankful, panting but triumphant. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She seized the arm of her fellow castaway and together they turned the
+      corner, struggled on for a short distance and then stopped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the window,&rdquo; gasped the widow. &ldquo;Here, right abreast of us. See!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She held up the lantern. The window was &ldquo;abreast&rdquo; of them, but also it was
+      a trifle high.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It ain't fastened,&rdquo; shouted Thankful; she was obliged to shout in order
+      to be heard. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of the old-fashioned kind, you might know,&rdquo; declared Thankful. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; panted her companion. &ldquo;We've got a gangway anyhow. Next thing is
+      to get aboard. You come down and give me a boost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Emily declined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I shan't do any such thing,&rdquo; she declared, indignantly. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her cousin demurred. &ldquo;I hate to have you do it,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily's head appeared framed by the window sash. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she panted. &ldquo;I&mdash;I
+      think I'm all right. At least I'm through that window. Now what shall I
+      do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The lantern and its bearer disappeared. Mrs. Barnes plodded around to the
+      back door. As she reached it it opened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was only hooked,&rdquo; said Emily. &ldquo;Come in, Auntie. Come in quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whew!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;If it don't seem good to get under cover, real
+      cover! What sort of a place is this, anyhow, Emily?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. I&mdash;I've been too frightened to look. I&mdash;I feel
+      like a&mdash;O, Aunt Thankful, don't you feel like a burglar?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; gasped Miss Howes, pointing to the sofa, &ldquo;see! see! This ISN'T an
+      empty house. Suppose&mdash;Oh, SUPPOSE there were people living here! What
+      would they say to us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment Thankful was staggered. Then her common-sense came to her
+      rescue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo; she said, firmly. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She marched across the floor and threw open the door to which she had
+      pointed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; she sniffed. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She came back to the apartment where she had left her cousin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's all right, Emily,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I noticed that woodbox in the kitchen when I fust come in,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not, apparently, for, with the dampers wide open, the fire crackled
+      and snapped. Also it smoked a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Twill get over that pretty soon,&rdquo; prophesied Mrs. Barnes. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Cause I tell you to, for one thing,&rdquo; said the widow, with decision. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily's protest was determined this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed you shan't!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;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&mdash;might be meeting or&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Land sakes&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily shivered. &ldquo;I suppose so,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;And I know I am nervous and a
+      trial instead of a help. If you had only been alone&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alone! Heavens to Betey! Do you think I'd like this&mdash;this
+      camp-meetin' any better if I was the only one to it. My! Just hear that
+      wind! Hope these old chimneys are solid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie, what do you suppose that man meant by saying he wouldn't enter
+      this house at night for anything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't know. Perhaps he meant he'd be afraid of bein' arrested.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you don't think we'll be arrested?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;you lay still and give your nerves a rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a few moments the order was obeyed. Then Miss Rowes said, with another
+      shiver: &ldquo;I do believe this is the worst storm I have ever experienced.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;violent on his part and
+      determined on Thankful's&mdash;he had left South Middleboro and gone&mdash;somewhere.
+      From that somewhere he had never returned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; mused Mrs. Barnes, &ldquo;those were the last words he said to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you say to him?&rdquo; asked Emily, drowsily. She had heard the story
+      often enough, but she asked the question as an aid to keeping awake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily's eyes were fast shutting, but she made one more remark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your life has been a hard one, hasn't it, Auntie,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful protested. &ldquo;Oh, no, no!&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;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&mdash;or what was furniture once&mdash;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&mdash;why&mdash;my land! I never thought of it, but
+      it might be! It might! Emily!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emily,&rdquo; said Thankful, in a low tone. &ldquo;Emily.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;swash&rdquo; that answered
+      the shake was not reassuring. The oil was almost gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;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&mdash;yes, it sounded human.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful dropped the patchwork comforter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's that?&rdquo; she asked, sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. No sounds except those of the storm. Thankful picked
+      up the comforter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; she said aloud&mdash;talking to herself was a habit developed
+      during the years of housekeeping for deaf old Mrs. Pearson. &ldquo;Humph! I must
+      be gettin' nerves, I guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fool!&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now then,&rdquo; said Thankful, with determination, &ldquo;whoever&mdash;or&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But no one or no &ldquo;thing&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, there!&rdquo; she muttered. &ldquo;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&mdash;I
+      swear I did hear somethin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;crayon enlargement,&rdquo; a
+      portrait of a man, a middle-aged man with a chin beard. There was
+      something familiar about the face in the portrait. Something&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful gasped. &ldquo;Uncle Abner!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Why&mdash;why&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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, &ldquo;Oh, Lord!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie!&rdquo; she cried, sharply. &ldquo;Aunt Thankful, where are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm&mdash;I'm here, Emily. That is, I guess&mdash;yes, I'm here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why is it so dark? Where is the lantern?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The lantern?&rdquo; Mrs. Barnes was trying to speak calmly but, between
+      agitation and loss of breath, she found it hard work. &ldquo;The lantern? Why&mdash;it's&mdash;it's
+      gone,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gone? What do you mean? Where has it gone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's gone&mdash;gone out. There wa'n't enough oil in it to last any
+      longer, I suppose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; Emily sat up. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was the last question which Thankful answered. &ldquo;No. No, he ain't come
+      back yet,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But he will pretty soon, I'm sure. He&mdash;he will,
+      Emily, don't you fret.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm not worried, Auntie. I am too sleepy to worry, I guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sleepy! You're not goin' to sleep AGAIN, are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I think not. Of course I'm not. But what made you
+      speak in that way? You're not frightened, are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful made a brave effort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Frightened!&rdquo; she repeated, stoutly. &ldquo;What on earth should I be frightened
+      of, I'd like to know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, nothing, I hope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should say not. I&mdash;Good heavens above! What's that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She started and clutched her companion by the arm. They both listened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't hear anything but the storm,&rdquo; said Emily. &ldquo;Why, Auntie, you ARE
+      frightened; you're trembling. I do believe there is something.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful snatched her hand away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There isn't,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;Of course there isn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then why are you so nervous?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;no sane reason
+      why I should be and I shan't. I shan't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Auntie, you are. Oh, what is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin'. Nothin' at all, I tell you. The idea!&rdquo; with an attempt at a
+      laugh. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily laughed, too. This speech was natural and characteristic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you were a nervous wreck,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Thankful did not answer. Emily went on. Her short nap had revived her
+      courage and spirit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps it is a haunted house,&rdquo; she said, jokingly. &ldquo;Every village has a
+      haunted house, you know. Perhaps that's why the stage-driver warned us not
+      to go into it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To her surprise Mrs. Barnes seemed to take offense at this attempt at
+      humor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't talk silly,&rdquo; she snapped. &ldquo;If I've lived all these years and been
+      as down on spooks and long-haired mediums as I've been, and then to&mdash;there&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen!&rdquo; whispered Emily, suddenly. &ldquo;Listen! I&mdash;I thought I heard
+      something.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Barnes leaned forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? Where? Upstairs?&rdquo; she asked, breathlessly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Out&mdash;out there somewhere.&rdquo; She pointed in the direction of the
+      front hall. &ldquo;It sounded as if someone had tried the front door. Hark!
+      There it is again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Thankful rose to her feet. &ldquo;I heard it, too,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It's
+      probably that driver man come back. I'll go and see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;no, Auntie, you mustn't. I&mdash;I shan't let you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall! I shall, I tell you! If I've got any common-sense at all, I
+      ain't goin' to be scared of&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I guess we was mistaken, Emily,&rdquo; whispered Thankful. &ldquo;Let's go
+      back to the fire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Auntie, I DID hear something. Didn't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I thought I did, but I guess&mdash;Oh, DON'T stay here another
+      minute! I&mdash;I shall be hearin' 'most anything if we do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They returned to the room they had left. But they had scarcely entered it
+      when they stopped short and, clinging to each other, listened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told you so! I&mdash;I told you so! I said I see a light. And&mdash;and
+      that door was undone and&mdash;and&mdash;By time! Obed Bangs, you can go
+      on if you want to, but I tell you you're riskin' your life. I&mdash;I
+      ain't goin' to stay no longer. I'm goin' to fetch the constable&mdash;or&mdash;or
+      the minister or somebody. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Another voice interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shut up! Belay!&rdquo; it ordered. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey! What!&rdquo; exclaimed the second voice. &ldquo;Who&mdash;women, by the
+      everlastin'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Barnes and Emily clinging to each other, blinked in the lantern
+      light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Women! Two women!&rdquo; said the voice again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful answered. The voice was real and it came from a human throat.
+      Anything human&mdash;and visible&mdash;she did not fear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, crisply, &ldquo;we're women. What of it? Who are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; repeated Aunt Thankful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The big man answered. His sunburned, good-humored face was wrinkled and
+      puckered with amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he stammered, &ldquo;I&mdash;we&mdash;Humph! well, we're neighbors and&mdash;but&mdash;but,
+      I don't know as I know you, ma'am, do I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Depot-wagon man? No, ma'am; nobody sent us. Kenelm&mdash;er&mdash;Mr.
+      Parker here, saw a light a spell ago and, bein' as this house is supposed
+      to be empty, he&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait a minute!&rdquo; Miss Howes interrupted. &ldquo;Whose house is this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why, it ain't anybody's house, ma'am. That is, nobody lives
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But somebody used to live here, it's likely. What was his name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His name? Well, old Laban Eldredge used to live here. The house belongs
+      to Captain Abner Cahoon's heirs, I believe, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Thankful interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew it!&rdquo; she cried, excitedly. &ldquo;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&mdash;this rattle-trap you and I broke into is the 'property' we've
+      talked so much about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Emily said&mdash;well, the first thing she said was, &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Thankful!&rdquo;
+       Then she added that she couldn't believe it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's so,&rdquo; declared Mrs. Barnes, &ldquo;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&mdash;Hum! I guess
+      likely that'll keep till we get to the hotel, if we ever do get there.
+      Perhaps Mr.&mdash;Mr.&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bangs is my name, ma'am,&rdquo; said the big man with the lantern. &ldquo;Obed
+      Bangs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, Mr. Bangs. Or it's 'Cap'n Bangs,' ain't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They generally call me Cap'n, ma'am, though I ain't been doin' any active
+      seafarin' for some time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;Bangs&mdash;Obed Bangs? Why,
+      that name sounds kind of familiar. Seems as if&mdash;Cap'n Bangs, you
+      didn't use to know Eben Barnes of Provincetown, did you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eben Barnes? Cap'n Eben of the White Foam, lost off Cape Hatteras in a
+      gale?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, that's the one. I thought I heard him speak of you. He was my
+      husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eben Barnes' wife!&rdquo; exclaimed Captain Obed. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ain't so glad as we are to see you&mdash;and your friend,&rdquo; observed
+      Thankful, drily. &ldquo;Is he a captain, too?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;no, ma'am,&rdquo; he stammered, in answer to the question. &ldquo;No, ma'am,
+      I&mdash;I&mdash;my name's Parker. I&mdash;I ain't a cap'n; no, ma'am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kenelm ain't been promoted yet,&rdquo; observed Captain Obed gravely. &ldquo;He's
+      waitin' until he get's old enough to go to sea. Ain't that it, Kenelm?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm smiled and shifted his sou'wester from his right hand to his left.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I cal'late so,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it don't make any difference,&rdquo; declared Thankful. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;Kenelm
+      said that he was &ldquo;glad to be acquaintanced.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know as we hadn't ought to beg your pardon for creepin' in on you
+      this way,&rdquo; said the captain. &ldquo;We thought the house was empty. We didn't
+      know you was visitin' your&mdash;your property.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We certainly have,&rdquo; declared Miss Howes, with emphasis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you see&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She gave a brief history of the cruise and wreck of the depot-wagon. Also
+      of their burglarious entry of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now, Cap'n,&rdquo; she said, in conclusion, &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      From without came the sound of wheels and the voice of Winnie S., hailing
+      his missing passengers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hi! Hi-i! Where be ye?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'll wear his lungs out, screamin' that way,&rdquo; snapped Thankful. &ldquo;Can't
+      he see the light, for goodness sakes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed answered. &ldquo;He couldn't see nothin' unless 'twas hung on the
+      end of his nose,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;That boy's eyes and brains ain't connected.
+      Here, Kenelm,&rdquo; turning to Mr. Parker, &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm looked alive, but not much more than that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, Cap'n,&rdquo; he stammered. &ldquo;A&mdash;a&mdash;all right. What&mdash;what&mdash;shall
+      I say&mdash;what shall I&mdash;had I better&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thunderation! Do you need a chart and compass? Stay where you are. I'll
+      say it myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ahoy! Ahoy! Win! Fetch her around aft here. Lay alongside the kitchen
+      door! D'you hear? Ahoy! Win! d'you hear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Silence. Then, after a moment, came the reply. &ldquo;Yup, I hear ye. Be right
+      there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain turned from the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Took some time for him to let us know he heard, didn't it,&rdquo; he observed.
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful turned to her relative.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, Emily,&rdquo; she said, with a sigh of relief. &ldquo;I guess likely we'll
+      make the hotel this tack. I begun to think we never would.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Bangs shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You won't go to no hotel this night,&rdquo; he said, decidedly. &ldquo;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,&rdquo; he added. &ldquo;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&mdash;a
+      Democrat there. Come right along! Don't say another word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;Jabez,&rdquo; were waiting on the front seat of a vehicle attached to a
+      dripping and dejected horse. To the rear of this vehicle &ldquo;General Jackson&rdquo;
+       was tethered by a halter. Winnie S. was loaded to the guards with
+      exclamatory explanations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judas priest!&rdquo; he exclaimed, as the captain assisted Mrs. Barnes and
+      Emily into the carriage. &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed interrupted. &ldquo;Never mind what you said to Jabez, Win,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;Why didn't you get back sooner? That's what we want to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Winnie S. was righteously indignant. &ldquo;Sooner!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;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&mdash;hey?
+      Did you say anything, ma'am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The question was addressed to Mrs. Barnes, who had been vainly trying to
+      ask one on her own account.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say have you got our valises?&rdquo; asked Thankful. &ldquo;Last I saw of them they
+      was in that other wagon, the one that broke down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The driver slapped his knee. &ldquo;Judas priest!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I forgot all about
+      them satchels. Here, Jabe,&rdquo; handing the reins to his companion. &ldquo;You take
+      the hellum while I run back and fetch 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was back in a few moments with the missing satchels. Then Jabez, who
+      was evidently not given to wasting words, drawled: &ldquo;Did you get the mail?
+      That's in there, too, ain't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Judas priest! So 'tis. Why didn't you remind me of it afore? Set there
+      like&mdash;like a wooden figurehead and let me run my legs off&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The lantern!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Where's that lantern I lent ye?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's there in the house,&rdquo; said Thankful. &ldquo;It burned itself out and I
+      forgot it. Mercy on us! You're not goin' back after that, I hope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I dunno. That lantern belongs to the old man&mdash;dad, I mean&mdash;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind what he'll give you,&rdquo; broke in Captain Bangs. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! We're there now. I thought these folks was goin' to our hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parker opened the hatch&mdash;the door of the carriage&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; declared Captain Obed. &ldquo;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,&rdquo; turning to Thankful,
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker rose to the occasion. She flew about preparing the &ldquo;items.&rdquo;
+       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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;to look a gift
+      dress in the waistband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Supper was ready in the dining-room and thither they were piloted by
+      Kenelm, whose hair, what there was of it, was elaborately &ldquo;slicked down,&rdquo;
+       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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please to be seated, everybody,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm fingered his tie. &ldquo;I&mdash;I cal'late I must have forgot, Hannah,&rdquo;
+       he stammered. &ldquo;I never noticed. This one's all right, ain't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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,&rdquo; with a sudden change from a
+      family to a &ldquo;company&rdquo; manner, &ldquo;may I assist you to a piece of the cold
+      ham, Miss Howes? I trust you are feelin' quite restored to yourself
+      again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily's answer being in the affirmative, their hostess continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm so sorry to be obliged to set nothin' but cold ham and toast and tea
+      before you,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;I declare I
+      feel real debilitated and ashamed to offer 'em to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't say a word, Miss Parker,&rdquo; she said, heartily. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cap'n Obed is the most hospital soul livin',&rdquo; she said, grandly. &ldquo;He done
+      just right. If he'd done anything else Kenelm and I would have felt hurt.
+      I&mdash;Look out!&rdquo; with a sudden snatch at her brother's shirt front.
+      &ldquo;There goes that tie. Another second and 'twould have been right in your
+      plate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm snapped the loop of the &ldquo;made&rdquo; tie over his collar button. &ldquo;Don't
+      grab at me that way, Hannah,&rdquo; he protested mildly. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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,&rdquo; turning to Thankful and once more resuming the &ldquo;company&rdquo; manner,
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;Mrs.
+      Barnes, do you believe in aberrations?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was nonplused. &ldquo;In&mdash;in which?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In aberrations, spirits of dead folks comin' alive again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For just a moment Mrs. Barnes hesitated. Then she glanced at Emily, who
+      was trying hard not to smile, and answered, with decision: &ldquo;No, I don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Bangs interrupted. He had been regarding Thankful closely and now
+      he changed the subject.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How did it happen you saw that light, Kenelm?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;What was you
+      doin' over in that direction a night like this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm hesitated. He seemed to find it difficult to answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why&mdash;&rdquo; he stammered, &ldquo;I'd been up to the office after the
+      mail. And&mdash;and&mdash;it was so late comin' that I give it up. I says
+      to Lemuel Ryder, 'Lem,' I says&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His sister broke in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lem Ryder!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;Was he at the post-office?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;well&mdash;&rdquo; Kenelm's confusion was more marked than ever.
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;well&mdash;&rdquo; he stammered, &ldquo;I see him, and I says&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parker's tie fell off then, but neither he nor his sister noticed it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gamblers!&rdquo; he snorted. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed laughed. &ldquo;Neither would I,&rdquo; he observed. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; exclaimed Miss Parker, when she had finished, &ldquo;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&mdash;a great, strong,
+      fleshy man, weighs close to two hundred and fifty and never sick a day in
+      his life&mdash;he was up in the second story of his buildin' walkin'
+      around spry as anybody&mdash;all alone, which he shouldn't have been at
+      his age&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was plain that Emily never had. &ldquo;I&mdash;I'm afraid I don't
+      understand,&rdquo; she faltered. &ldquo;You say he was in the second story of a
+      building and he stepped on&mdash;on a FISH?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed burst into a laugh. &ldquo;'Twa'n't the mackerel's collar-bone,
+      Miss Howes,&rdquo; he explained, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker nodded. &ldquo;That's what I say,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;And Sarah&mdash;that's
+      his wife&mdash;tells me the doctors are real worried because the fraction
+      ain't ignited yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful coughed and then observed that she should think they would be.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you don't mind,&rdquo; she added, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain rose from the table and, walking to the window, pushed aside
+      the shade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It'll look better tomorrow&mdash;today, I should say,&rdquo; he observed. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Good nights&mdash;good mornings, for it was after two o'clock&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, dear me!&rdquo; gasped the former, wiping her eyes. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily shook her head. &ldquo;I am glad I didn't have to answer that remark,
+      Auntie,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I never could have done it without disgracing myself.
+      She is a genuine Mrs. Malaprop, isn't she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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. &ldquo;She's a genuine curiosity, this Parker woman, if that's what
+      you mean, Emily,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like that Captain Bangs,&rdquo; observed Emily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;yes, and Eben, too&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night,&rdquo; said Emily, sleepily. A few minutes later she said: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Barnes' reply was, if not prompt, at least conclusive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's over there somewhere,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;The light went out, but it ain't
+      likely the lantern went with it. Now you go to sleep.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Howes obeyed. She was asleep very soon thereafter. But Thankful lay
+      awake, thinking and wondering&mdash;yes, and dreading. What sort of a
+      place was this she had inherited? She distinctly did not believe in what
+      Hannah Parker had called &ldquo;aberrations,&rdquo; but she had heard something&mdash;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 &ldquo;Oh Lord!&rdquo; in the
+      darkness and solitude of that bedroom?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, Hannah,&rdquo; said Mr. Parker's voice. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;Oh, yes! To the postoffice&mdash;that's where you said
+      you was goin'&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, Hannah. I&mdash;I&mdash;do seem to remember havin' had it,
+      but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but, consarn it all, Hannah&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't swear, Kenelm. Profanity won't help you none.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;I cal'late I&mdash;I left it
+      somewheres.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cal'late you did. I'm goin' over to the village this mornin' and I'll
+      stop in at that clubhouse, myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I don't believe it's at the clubhouse, Hannah.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't? Why don't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I don't know. I just guess it ain't, that's all. Somethin' seems
+      to tell me 'tain't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anywheres else. What do you mean by that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean what I say. You know what I mean well enough. Was you&mdash;well,
+      was you callin' on anybody?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Callin' on anybody? CALLIN' on 'em?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My soul! You've got Abbie Larkin in your head again, ain't you? It&mdash;it&mdash;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&mdash;a bull frog? I wouldn't do it to see the&mdash;the Queen
+      of Rooshy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This vehement outburst seemed to have some effect. Miss Parker's tone was
+      more conciliatory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, all right,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Met her! Tut&mdash;tut&mdash;tut! If that ain't&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe I do,&rdquo; with a sniff. &ldquo;Maybe I do, Kenelm, but you mean so much to
+      me. I just can't let you go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go! I ain't goin' nowheres, am I? What kind of talk's that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And to think you'd heave away that umbrella&mdash;the umbrella I gave
+      you! That's what makes me feel so bad. A nice, new, gilt-plated umbrella&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never hove it away. I&mdash;I&mdash;well, I left it somewheres, I&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful had heard enough. She was out of bed the next instant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emily! Emily!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;It's late. We must get up now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The voices in the sitting-room died to whispers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I can't help it,&rdquo; pleaded Kenelm. &ldquo;I never meant nothin'. I
+      thought they was asleep. And 'TIS most eight. By time, Hannah, you do pick
+      on me&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A vigorous &ldquo;Sshh!&rdquo; interrupted him. The door between the sitting-room and
+      dining-room closed with a slam. Mrs. Barnes and Emily dressed hurriedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They gathered about the breakfast table, the Parkers, Captain Obed and the
+      guests. Miss Parker's &ldquo;company manner&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The more I see of you, Miss Howes,&rdquo; she declared, &ldquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;toothache lotion it was and
+      awful powerful&mdash;and it ate right through to her diagram. She didn't
+      live long afterwards, poor soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No one said anything for a moment after this tragic recital. Then Captain
+      Bangs observed cheerfully:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I guess Miss Howes ain't likely to drink any toothache lotion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah nodded sedately. &ldquo;I trust not,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;with
+      some people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good enough!&rdquo; exclaimed Captain Obed, heartily. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hope I ain't hurryin' you too much,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily burst out laughing. &ldquo;Excuse me, please,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but I've been
+      dying to do this for so long. That&mdash;that Miss Parker is the oddest
+      person!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain grinned. &ldquo;Thinkin' about that 'diagram' yarn?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;'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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful laughed, too. &ldquo;You must find her pretty amusin', Cap'n Bangs,&rdquo;
+       she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain shook his head. &ldquo;She's a reg'lar dime show,&rdquo; he observed. Then
+      he added: &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;WHAT a view! What a wonderful view!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;property&rdquo; they had come to see and to which they
+      had been introduced in such an odd fashion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seen by daylight and in the glorious sunshine the old Barnes house did
+      look, as their guide said, more &ldquo;lifelike and cheerful.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So that's it,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's it,&rdquo; said Captain Obed. &ldquo;What do you think of it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well, there's enough of it, anyhow, as the little boy said about
+      the spring medicine. What do you think, Emily?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily's answer was prompt and emphatic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like it,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was pointing to the estate adjoining the Barnes house and fronting the
+      sea further on. &ldquo;Estate&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I seem to have aristocratic neighbors, anyhow,&rdquo; observed Mrs. Barnes.
+      &ldquo;Whose tintype belongs in THAT gilt frame?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed chuckled at the question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, nobody's just now,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There was one up to last fall, though
+      I shouldn't have called him a tintype. More of a panorama, if you asked me&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Colfax died last October,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+      &ldquo;Cal'late Winnie S. and his dad come around early and towed it home,&rdquo;
+       surmised Captain Obed. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful hesitated. &ldquo;I haven't got the key,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I suppose it's at
+      that Badger man's in the village. You know who I mean, Cap'n Bangs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Christopher S. H. Badger, tinware, groceries, real estate, boots and
+      shoes, and insurance,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Likewise justice of the peace and first
+      mate of all creation. Yes, I know Chris.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;hum; I ain't surprised. Chris sells paint as well as tea and
+      tinware. He's got the key, has he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose he has. I ought to have gone up and got it from him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whose furniture is this?&rdquo; asked Thankful, referring to the stove and
+      chair and sofa in the dining-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo; He hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, there must have been more than this,&rdquo; said Thankful. &ldquo;What, became
+      of it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed shook his head. &ldquo;You might ask Chris Badger,&rdquo; he suggested.
+      &ldquo;Chris sells antiques on the side&mdash;the high side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did old Mr. Eldredge live here ALL alone?&rdquo; asked Emily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where did he die?&rdquo; asked Thankful, who was looking out of the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;cussin' and
+      groanin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was silent. Emily said: &ldquo;Groaning? You mean he groaned when he
+      was ill?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and when he was well, too. A habit of his, groanin' was. I don't
+      know why he done it&mdash;see himself in the lookin'-glass, maybe; that
+      was enough to make anybody groan. He'd groan in his sleep&mdash;or snore&mdash;or
+      both. He was the noisiest sleeper ever I set up with. Shall we go
+      upstairs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's where Laban bunked,&rdquo; said the captain. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was listening, although not to their guide's remarks. She was
+      listening for sounds such as she had heard&mdash;or thought she had heard&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily uttered an exclamation and pointed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Auntie!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Isn't that&mdash;where did that lantern come
+      from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed looked where she was pointing. He stepped forward and picked
+      up the overturned lantern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's Darius Holt's lantern, I do believe,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;The one Winnie
+      S. was makin' such a fuss about last night. How in the nation did it get
+      up here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful laughed. &ldquo;I brought it up,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;'twas
+      too dark to see anything. . . . Well,&rdquo; she added, quickly, in order to
+      head off troublesome questioning, &ldquo;we've looked around here pretty well.
+      What else is there to see?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They visited the garret and the cellar; both were spacious and not too
+      clean.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I ever come here to live,&rdquo; declared Thankful, with decision, &ldquo;there'll
+      be some dustin' and sweepin' done, I know that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily looked at her in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come here to live!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;Why, Auntie, are you thinking of
+      coming here to live?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her cousin's answer was not very satisfactory. &ldquo;I've been thinkin' a good
+      many things lately,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Some of 'em was even more crazy than that
+      sounds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is about the way it used to be in Cap'n Abner's day,&rdquo; said Captain
+      Obed. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what,&rdquo; asked Thankful, &ldquo;is that? It looks like a pigsty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Bangs laughed. &ldquo;You've guessed it, first crack,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful snorted. &ldquo;A pigsty under the house!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Well, that's all
+      I want to know about THAT man!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As they were returning along the foot-path by the bluff Captain Obed, who
+      had been looking over his shoulder, suddenly stopped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's kind of funny,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; asked Emily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was silent during the homeward walk. When she and Miss Howes were
+      alone in their room, she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emily, are you real set on gettin' back to South Middleboro tonight?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Auntie. Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But do you think we ought to stay here, as Miss Parker's guests? Wouldn't
+      it be&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;and somethin' may come of that, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She would not explain further, and Emily, knowing her well, did not press
+      the point.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah Parker protested volubly when her &ldquo;company&rdquo; declared its intention
+      of going to the East Wellmouth Hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course you shan't do no such thing,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The question was addressed to her brother, who entered the house by the
+      side door at that moment. Kenelm seemed a trifle confused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I been lookin' for that umbrella, Hannah,&rdquo; he explained. &ldquo;I knew
+      I must have left it somewheres 'cause&mdash;'cause, you see I&mdash;I took
+      it out with me last night and&mdash;and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And come home without it. It wouldn't take a King Solomon to know that.
+      Did you find it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm's embarrassment appeared to increase.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he stammered, &ldquo;I ain't exactly found it&mdash;but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I'm cal'latin' to find it, Hannah.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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
+      be scared if I was you. You'll find a way to lose it, if there is one. Oh,
+      dear me!&rdquo; with a sudden change to a tone almost pleading. &ldquo;Be you goin' to
+      smoke again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm's reply was strange for him. He scratched a match and lit his pipe
+      with calm deliberation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm cal'latin' to,&rdquo; he said, cheerfully. And his sister, to the surprise
+      of Mrs. Barnes and Emily, did not utter another word of protest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain chuckled. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The hotel&mdash;it was kept by Darius Holt, father of Winnie S.&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After that, we'll see,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Now let's go and make a call on that
+      rent collector of mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But when I see you folks in that house last night,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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&mdash;Whew!
+      Judas priest! I wouldn't do it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; asked Emily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rubbish!&rdquo; broke in Mr. Holt, Senior. &ldquo;'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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After dinner Emily retired to her room for a nap. She did so under
+      protest, declaring that she was not tired, but Thankful insisted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you ain't tired now you will be when the excitement's over,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've been talkin' until my face aches,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;And my mind is
+      about made up to do&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emily,&rdquo; she began, &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see, Emily,&rdquo; she went on, &ldquo;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&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; I know,&rdquo; she continued, noticing the expression on her
+      companion's face. &ldquo;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&mdash;yes, I do believe I could put a
+      mortgage on it for enough to pay for the fixin' over, maybe more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Auntie,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;a mortgage is a debt, isn't it? A debt that must
+      be paid. And if you borrow from a stranger&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;I
+      got that from the cap'n without tellin' him what I wanted to know for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Howes smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and Captain Bangs have been putting your heads together, I see,&rdquo; she
+      said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;yes, I'm
+      pretty sure I shall try. Now what do you think? Is your Aunt Thankful
+      Barnes losin' her sense&mdash;always providin' she's ever had any to lose&mdash;or
+      is she gettin' to be a real business woman at last?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do believe,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+       wistfully. &ldquo;I only wish it were possible for me to stay here and help with
+      it all. But I can't&mdash;I can't. Mother and the children need the money
+      and I must go back to my school.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful nodded. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she admitted, &ldquo;I suppose likely you must, for the
+      present. But&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They talked for a long time, but at last, after they were in bed and the
+      lamp was extinguished, Emily said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Thankful, with a sigh, &ldquo;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&mdash;yes,
+      and this mornin'&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed nodded. &ldquo;Sartin,&rdquo; he agreed. &ldquo;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&mdash;homesick and other kinds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;open
+      wagon&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I haven't got much to do this mornin',&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They jogged up the main street of Trumet until they reached the little
+      three-cornered &ldquo;square&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;craft&rdquo; up to the sidewalk before
+      this building and pulled up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whoa!&rdquo; he ordered, addressing the horse. Then, turning to Thankful, he
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here you are, ma'am. This is Sol Cobb's place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;Cousin
+      Solomon&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sure, Cap'n Bangs?&rdquo; she faltered. &ldquo;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&mdash;if 'tis an office,&rdquo; she added. &ldquo;It looks more like a
+      henhouse to me. And there's no signs anywhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain laughed. &ldquo;Signs cost money,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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,&rdquo; he added, apologetically. &ldquo;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&mdash;well,
+      maybe I'm prejudiced. Excuse me, won't you? He may be altogether different
+      with his own folks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was still staring at the dubious and forbidding front door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It doesn't seem as if it could be,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But if you say so of
+      course 'tis.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful threw aside the carriage robe and prepared to clamber from the
+      wagon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I surely am,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;That's what I came way over here for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain sprang to the ground and helped her to alight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll be right across the road at the store there,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I'll be on
+      the watch when you came out. I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He hesitated. Evidently there was something else he wished to say, but he
+      found the saying difficult. Thankful noticed the hesitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, what was it, Cap'n Bangs?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed fidgeted with the reins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, nothin', I guess,&rdquo; he faltered. &ldquo;Only&mdash;only&mdash;well, I tell
+      you, Mrs. Barnes, if&mdash;if you was figgerin' on doin' any business with
+      Mr. Cobb, any money business, I mean, and&mdash;and you'd rather go
+      anywheres else I&mdash;I&mdash;well, I'm pretty well acquainted round here
+      on the Cape amongst the bank folks and such and I'd be real glad to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; she said, hastily. &ldquo;It ain't anything important&mdash;that is,
+      very important.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, all right. You see&mdash;I only meant&mdash;excuse me, Mrs. Barnes.
+      I hope you don't think I meant to be nosey or interferin' in your
+      affairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I don't. You've gone to a lot of trouble on my account as 'tis,
+      and you've been real kind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;henhouse&rdquo; and entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good mornin',&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um,&rdquo; he grunted, and that was all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you Mr. Solomon Cobb?&rdquo; 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. &ldquo;Like a man
+      hauling wild carrots out of a turnip patch,&rdquo; she wrote Emily when
+      describing the interview.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He did not answer the question. Instead, after another long look, he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you're sellin' books, I don't want none. Don't use 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was so entirely unexpected that Mrs. Barnes was, for the moment,
+      confused and taken aback.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Books!&rdquo; she repeated, wonderingly. &ldquo;I didn't say anything about books. I
+      asked you if you was Mr. Cobb.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Another look. &ldquo;If you're sellin' or peddlin' or agentin' or anything I
+      don't want none,&rdquo; said the little man. &ldquo;I'm tellin' you now so's you can
+      save your breath and mine. I've got all I want.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;back fin began to rise.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't a peddler or a book agent,&rdquo; she declared, crisply. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The word &ldquo;business&rdquo; had an effect. Mr. Cobb swung about in his chair and
+      regarded her fixedly. There was a slight change in his tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Business, hey?&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Well, I'm a business man, ma'am. What sort
+      of business is it you've got?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful did not answer the question immediately. Instead she walked
+      nearer to the desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, slowly, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man of business stared harder than ever. He took off his spectacles,
+      rubbed them with his handkerchief, put them on and stared again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, ma'am, I don't,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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&mdash;sort of familiar about you, now that I
+      look closer. Who be you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My name is Thankful Barnes&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; and a brief &ldquo;Want to
+      know!&rdquo; He stared at Thankful and she at him. Then he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Barnes was astonished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;What's well? What do you mean by that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin's I know of. You said you came to see me about some business or
+      other. What sort of business?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I came to see you about gettin' some money. I need some money just now
+      and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Solomon interrupted her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; he grunted. &ldquo;I cal'lated as much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cal'lated it! For the land sakes&mdash;why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was by this time thoroughly angry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here,&rdquo; she snapped. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This pointed remark had no more effect than the statement of relationship.
+      Mr. Cobb was quite unruffled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You came to see me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and you ain't come afore for twenty year&mdash;you
+      said so. Now, when you do come, you want money, you said that, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what of it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful's fingers twitched. &ldquo;'Cordin' to all accounts you never done much
+      for them, either,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;You don't even ask 'em to sit down.
+      Well, you needn't worry so far's I'm concerned. Good-by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was on her way out of the office, but he called her back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hi, hold on!&rdquo; he called. &ldquo;You ain't told me what that business was yet.
+      Come back! You&mdash;you can set down, if you want to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Set down,&rdquo; said Mr. Cobb, pulling forward a chair. &ldquo;Now what is it you
+      want?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Barnes sat down. &ldquo;I'll tell you what I don't want,&rdquo; she said with
+      emphasis. &ldquo;I don't want you to give me any money or to lend me any, either&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cobb tugged at his whiskers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You've got a temper, ain't you,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want you to take a mortgage on some property I own. You do take
+      mortgages, don't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      More whisker pulling. Solomon nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do sometimes,&rdquo; he admitted; &ldquo;when I cal'late they're safe to take.
+      Where is this property of yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Over in East Wellmouth. It's the old Abner Barnes place. Cap'n Abner
+      willed it to me. He was my uncle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? What's that you say?&rdquo; he asked, sharply. &ldquo;Abner Barnes was your
+      uncle? I&mdash;I thought you said your name was Cahoon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're&mdash;you're Abner Barnes' niece!&rdquo; he said slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;niece by marriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The one he used to talk so much about? What was her name&mdash;Patience&mdash;Temp'rance&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thankful&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was an interval of silence. Mr. Cobb replaced his spectacles and
+      stared through them at his visitor. His manner was peculiar&mdash;markedly
+      so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went mate for Cap'n Abner a good many v'yages,&rdquo; he said, after a
+      moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know you did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He&mdash;he told you so, I suppose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What else did he tell you; about&mdash;about me, I mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, nothin' 'special that I know of. Why? What was there to tell?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin'. Nothin' much, I guess. Abner and me was sort of&mdash;sort of
+      chums and I didn't know but he might have said&mdash;might have told you
+      considerable about me. He didn't, hey?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. He told me you was his mate, that's all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What made you come here to me?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;at least folks said you did&mdash;and bein' as you was a
+      relation I thought&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A wave of the hand interrupted her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; broke in Solomon, hastily. &ldquo;I know that. Was that the only
+      reason?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She made a move to rise, but he leaned forward and detained her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! there!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Set still, set still. So you're Abner Barnes'
+      niece?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My soul! I've told you so three times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Abner's niece! I want to know!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I should think you might know by this time. Now about that
+      mortgage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey? Oh, yes&mdash;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&mdash;which
+      ain't much. What are you cal'latin' to do&mdash;live there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you say,&rdquo; he drawled, &ldquo;that you come to me just because&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy on us! If you don't know why I come by this time, then&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, all right. I&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; he grunted, when she had finished. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; dryly; &ldquo;I supposed likely you did. Anyhow, he said he knew you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He did, hey? Told you some things about me, hey?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;mind, I don't say I will, but suppose I should&mdash;how
+      would I know that the mortgage would be paid, or the interest, or
+      anything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If it ain't paid you can foreclose when the time comes, I presume likely.
+      As for the interest&mdash;well, I'm fairly honest, or I try to be, and
+      that'll be paid reg'lar if I live.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful stood up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; she said, decidedly, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cobb rose also. &ldquo;There! there!&rdquo; he protested. &ldquo;Don't get het up. I
+      don't say I won't take your mortgage, do I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The owner of the &ldquo;hen-house&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I'm sorry if I've said anything I shouldn't,&rdquo; he stammered. &ldquo;I'm
+      gettin' old and&mdash;and sort of short in my talk, maybe. I&mdash;I&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two thousand dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two thousand! . . . There, there! Hold on, hold on! Two thousand dollars
+      is a whole lot of money. It don't grow on every bush.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know that as well as you do. If I did I'd have picked it afore this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;hm. How long a time do you want?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. Three years, perhaps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Solomon shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too long,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I couldn't give as long a mortgage as that to
+      anybody. No, I couldn't do it. . . . Tell you what I will do,&rdquo; he added.
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Barnes declined the offer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It may be fair to you,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Another session of &ldquo;weeding.&rdquo; Then said Mr. Cobb: &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful told him. He walked as far as the door with her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hope you ain't put out with me, ma'am,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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&mdash;to
+      them I take a notion to. I'll&mdash;I'll treat you right&mdash;er&mdash;er&mdash;Cousin
+      Thankful; you see if I don't. I'm real glad you come to me. Good day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;taken a notion&rdquo; to her, his
+      expression concealed the fact wonderfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;port of call&rdquo; 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&mdash;Winnie S., for instance&mdash;would have started in on
+      a vigorous cross-examination. Her conviction that Captain Bangs was much
+      above the average was strengthened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;he was there. I saw him. He's a&mdash;a kind of queer
+      person, I should say. Do you know him real well, Cap'n Bangs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain nodded. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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!&rdquo; he chuckled. &ldquo;Well, yes&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What sort of a man is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Yes, I'm sure he's smart in business. But is he&mdash;is he a GOOD
+      man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain hesitated before replying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Git dap!&rdquo; he ordered, addressing the horse. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But do you think he's honest?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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!&rdquo; he
+      added, reflectively, &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's kind of queer to me,&rdquo; he went on, slowly, &ldquo;to see the number of
+      folks that make up their minds to be good&mdash;or what they call good&mdash;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&mdash;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!&rdquo; he added, coming out of his reverie and looking doubtfully at his
+      companion, &ldquo;I&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;go out nursing&rdquo; 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&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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, &ldquo;a
+      poll parrot with its bill greased.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Takin' other folks' advice about your own affairs,&rdquo; began Cap'n Obed, &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;and his sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;'cordin' to her idea of well-offness&mdash;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&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Another of her special despisin's&mdash;next to old maids and young
+      widows&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So Hannah was set back a couple of rows, but she wa'n't discouraged&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'It's ruinin' your health,' she'd say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now what can you do with a feller like that?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anyway, Hannah coughed for a day or two more, and then her brother come
+      totin' in a big bottle of med'cine.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'There!' he says. 'That'll fix you!'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Where'd you get it?' says she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Down to Henry Tubman's,' he says.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Henry Tubman! What on earth! Why, Henry Tubman's a horse doctor!'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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'&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;everybody but Hannah; she could only
+      set there and say she'd done her best, but that Kenelm still herded with
+      the goats.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, after supper was over, Abbie gets Hannah over in a corner, and says
+      she:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hannah read the advertisement through twice. 'Well, I never!' says she.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Yes,' says Abbie, and smiles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Ain't it?' says Abbie, and smiles some more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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!'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'But, Kenelm, you're always so fond of cranb'ry pie.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Me? It makes me shrivel just to look at it. Pass that sugar bowl, so's I
+      can sweeten ship.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;as you might expect
+      from that kind of a man&mdash;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&mdash;layin' in a fresh stock every once in a
+      while&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so everything was all right&mdash;'cordin' to Hannah's reckonin'&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kenelm colored up some&mdash;he always h'isted danger signals when women
+      heave in sight&mdash;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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Was you goin' home, Mr. Parker?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Yes, ma'am,' says Kenelm. 'I was cal'latin' to go home and cook
+      somethin' for dinner.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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!'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Course Kenelm said he couldn't, and, likewise, of course, he did. 'Twas
+      a smashin' dinner&mdash;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&mdash;meanin' the late lamented&mdash;was
+      on deck, and so forth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Afore Kenelm could stop her she rummaged a handful of cigars out of the
+      table drawer in the settin'-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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'.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'I'd like to,' says Kenelm, pickin' up one of the cigars. 'I'd like to
+      mighty well, but'&mdash;here he bites off the end&mdash;''twouldn't hardly
+      do, now would it? You see&mdash;'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'I see,' says Abbie, scratchin' a match; 'but WE'LL never tell. We'll
+      have it for our secret; won't we, Mr. Parker?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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!'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, there ain't really nothin' the matter with the Widow Larkin&mdash;so
+      fur's smartness is concerned, there ain't.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And for five days more Kenelm ate his meals at Abbie's and smoked and was
+      happy, happier'n he'd been for months.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meantime, Hannah and Etta was visitin' the President&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Mr. Badger,' says Hannah, polite and smilin', 'I want to buy a box of
+      the best cigars you've got.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Ma'am!' says Chris, thinkin' 'twas about time to send for the constable
+      or the doctor&mdash;one or t'other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Yes,' says Hannah; 'if you please. Oh! and, Mr. Badger, please don't
+      tell anyone I bought 'em. PLEASE don't, to oblige me.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So Chris trotted out the cigars&mdash;ten cents straight, they was&mdash;and
+      said nothin' to nobody, which is a faculty he has when it pays to have it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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&mdash;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.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which wa'n't a bad yarn for a church member that hadn't had any more
+      practice than Hannah had.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;bein' five
+      centers&mdash;wa'n't in it with that Washington box.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'I was cal'latin' to go downtown on a bus'ness trip, same's I did last
+      night. But I guess,' he says&mdash;'I guess I won't. It's too comfort'ble
+      here,' says he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I cal'late,&rdquo; said Captain Obed, in conclusion, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But who sent the 'friend' letter?&rdquo; asked Thankful, whose thoughts had
+      been diverted from her own troubles by hearing those of Miss Parker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's a mystery, even yet,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful smiled and then sighed. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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&mdash;or at East
+      Wellmouth anyhow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Thankful insisted upon going to the hotel and there her new friend&mdash;for
+      she had begun to think of him as that&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just want to keep an eye on you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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&mdash;if
+      you sight that kind of craft beatin' down in this direction tomorrow
+      you'll know it's me. Good day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Solomon tugged at his own whiskers almost constantly during that forenoon.
+      He and Mrs. Barnes visited the &ldquo;Captain Abner place&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well!&rdquo; said Thankful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cobb &ldquo;weeded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what I say&mdash;eh? What are you goin' to do about that mortgage,
+      Mr. Cobb?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      More weeding. Then: &ldquo;Waal, I&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it is yourself I'm askin' to take it. So you won't, hey? All right;
+      that's all I wanted to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now&mdash;now&mdash;now, hold on! Hold on! I ain't sayin' I WON'T take
+      it. I&mdash;I'd like to be accommodatin', 'specially to a relation. But&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cobb fidgeted. &ldquo;I couldn't let you have that much,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I
+      couldn't. I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo; he wrenched the next sentence loose after what
+      seemed a violent effort, &ldquo;I might let you have half of it&mdash;a
+      thousand, say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;and
+      having asked for the two thousand merely because of her judgment of human
+      nature&mdash;she announced that she would think over the offer. Then came
+      the question of time. Here Mr. Cobb was firm. Three years&mdash;two years&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I wouldn't do that for nobody else,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;You bein' my
+      relation I don't know's it ain't my duty as a perfessin' Christian to&mdash;to
+      help you out. I hadn't ought to afford it, but I'm willin' to go so far.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful shook her head. &ldquo;I'm glad you said, 'PROFESSIN' Christian.'&rdquo; she
+      observed. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; drawing a long breath, &ldquo;then I suppose I've got to say
+      yes or no. . . . And I'll say yes,&rdquo; she added firmly. &ldquo;And we'll call it
+      settled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Solomon climbed into the buggy. &ldquo;Well, good-by,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I hope you'll
+      do fust-rate. The interest'll be paid regular, of course. I'm real pleased
+      to meet you&mdash;er&mdash;Cousin Thankful. Be sure you sign them papers
+      in the right place. Good-by. Oh&mdash;er&mdash;er&mdash;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&mdash;yes&mdash;I'll come and see you.
+      You can tell me more about Captain Abner, you know. I'd&mdash;I'd like to
+      hear what he said to you about me. Good-by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;property.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful sighed also.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the matter?&rdquo; asked Winnie S.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, nothin' much. I wish I was a prophet, that's all. I'd like to be able
+      to look ahead a year.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Winnie S. whistled. &ldquo;Judas priest!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful sighed again. &ldquo;I don't know as I do, either,&rdquo; she admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      March, so to speak, blew itself out; April came and went; May was here.
+      And on the seventeenth of May the repairs on the &ldquo;Cap'n Abner place&rdquo; 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
+      &ldquo;truck wagon&rdquo; 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
+      &ldquo;hired help,&rdquo; was arranging the new pots and pans on the closet shelf and
+      singing &ldquo;Showers of Blessings&rdquo; cheerfully if not tunefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yes, the old &ldquo;Cap'n Abner place&rdquo; was rejuvenated and transformed and on
+      the following Monday it would be the &ldquo;Cap'n Abner place&rdquo; no longer: it
+      would then become the &ldquo;High Cliff House&rdquo; and open its doors to hoped-for
+      boarders, either of the &ldquo;summer&rdquo; or &ldquo;all-the-year&rdquo; variety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;Mrs. Pearson's legacy&mdash;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, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You could find one, of course,&rdquo; said the captain. &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful, after thinking the matter over, decided that the advice was
+      good. The difficulty, of course, was in determining the &ldquo;somewhere&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;Marguerite&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;the
+      Marguerite one&rdquo; along for a month's trial.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;won't come off&rdquo; variety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful met her at the back door and ushered her into the kitchen, the
+      room most free from workmen at the moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do?&rdquo; said the lady. &ldquo;I'm real glad to see you. Hope you had a
+      nice trip down in the cars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lordy, yes'm!&rdquo; was the emphatic answer, accompanied by a brilliant smile.
+      &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A man?&rdquo; grinned Thankful. &ldquo;What sort of a man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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!&rdquo; with another
+      smile. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why, yes; if you're a good girl and try hard to please and to
+      learn. Now&mdash;er&mdash;Marguerite&mdash;that's your name, isn't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, ma'am, my name's Imogene.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Imo&mdash;which? Why! I thought you was Marguerite. Miss Coffin hasn't
+      sent another girl, has she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but you can't change your name like that. Isn't Marguerite your
+      real name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'm. Anyhow I guess 'tain't. I got that out of a book, too. Lordy,&rdquo; with
+      a burst of enthusiasm, &ldquo;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&mdash;not Miss Coffin, but the other one&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;um&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't decided. Montgomery's a kind of nice name and so's St. John, or
+      Wolcott&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lordy, yes'm!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um! Well, you might begin by tryin' not to say 'Lordy' quite so many
+      times. That would please me, for a start.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy on us! I don't wonder. Well&mdash;er&mdash;Imogene, now I'll show
+      you the house and your room and all. I hope you like 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's elegant, ma'am,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;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,&rdquo; briskly, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;hired
+      help&rdquo; was destined to prove a treasure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am real glad you like it here so well, Imogene,&rdquo; she said, at the end
+      of a fortnight. &ldquo;I was afraid you might be lonesome, down here so far from
+      the city.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene laughed. &ldquo;Who? Me?&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll need a nice, trustworthy man to do chores,&rdquo; said Hannah. &ldquo;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&mdash;'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where did he find it?&rdquo; interrupted Thankful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Land knows! He didn't seem to know himself&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was not convinced, but she yielded. When she told Captain Bangs
+      he laughed and observed: &ldquo;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'&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So Kenelm came daily to work and did work&mdash;some. When he did not he
+      always had a plausible excuse. As a self-excuser he was a shining light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;open wagon&rdquo; 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
+      &ldquo;Fireside Companion&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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. &ldquo;As to them two roosters,&rdquo; she explained, &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On the seventeenth the High Cliff House was formally opened. It was much
+      too early to expect &ldquo;summer&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;boarding around&rdquo; in
+      Wellmouth Centre and Trumet ever since. Caleb was fairly well-to-do and
+      although he had the reputation of being somewhat &ldquo;close&rdquo; in many matters
+      and &ldquo;sot&rdquo; in his ways, he was a respected member of society. He selected a
+      room on the second floor&mdash;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 &ldquo;upstairs&rdquo;
+       classes in the Wellmouth school ever since she was nineteen, a
+      considerable period of time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;smart&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had been boarding with the Holts, but, like the majority of the hotel
+      lodgers and &ldquo;mealers,&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If a bachelor may be said to have a home, Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; he added,
+      graciously. &ldquo;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&mdash;er&mdash;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&mdash;an unlucky number: Ha, ha! Suppose
+      we call it twelve and dodge the bad luck, eh? That would seem reasonable,
+      don't you think?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful shook her head. &ldquo;Altogether too reasonable, Mr. Daniels, I'm
+      afraid,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;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&mdash;for me. I can let you have
+      a side room, of course, and that would be cheaper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed Bangs, when she told him, reassured her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't worry, ma'am,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain waved a protesting hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;moorings&rdquo; 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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      That first dinner was a bountiful meal. Miss Parker expressed the general
+      opinion, although it was expressed in her own way, when she said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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'&mdash;leavin' out
+      the writin' on the wall of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; said Thankful to Imogene that night. &ldquo;We've started anyhow. And
+      'twas a good start if I do say it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good!&rdquo; exclaimed Imogene. &ldquo;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&mdash;I mean mercy on us, ma'am&mdash;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&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean to, of course,&rdquo; declared Mrs. Barnes. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, Captain Bangs,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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&mdash;folks, I mean&mdash;fifteen-dollar-a-week board for
+      seven dollars may be mighty nice for them, but it's plaguy poor business
+      for Mrs. Thankful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain shook his head; he had been thinking, too, and his conclusions
+      were much the same.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mustn't find fault with Mrs. Barnes, Imogene,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;She's a
+      mighty fine woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed rubbed his chin. &ldquo;Think she needs a business manager, eh?&rdquo; he
+      observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene nodded emphatically. &ldquo;She needs two of them,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;provider&rdquo; to be a success as a boarding-house keeper in East
+      Wellmouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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
+      &ldquo;nosing in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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, &ldquo;If we lose five dollars a
+      week on everyone of 'em that ain't nothin' to hurrah about, seems to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;but he did not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;he began to sing. To sing&mdash;not
+      loudly, of course, but rather under his breath. And this is what he sang:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Said all the little fishes that swim there below:
+     'It's the Liverpool packet!  Good Lord, let her go!'&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Johnnie Kendrick!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;It's Johnnie Kendrick, I do believe!
+      Well, I swan to man!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man laughed, and, seizing the captain's hand, shook it heartily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad you do,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed shook his head. &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo; he stammered. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The very same, Captain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Kendrick shook his head. &ldquo;I don't know that I'm quite sure myself,
+      Captain,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was hurrying away, but his companion caught his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heave to, John!&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;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&mdash;what did you call it?&mdash;bust&mdash;I'd be mighty glad to
+      have you make the trip along with me. No, no. 'Twon't be any trouble. Come
+      on!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Five minutes later they were seated in the buggy and George Washington was
+      jogging with dignified deliberation along the road toward East Wellmouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why,&rdquo; demanded Captain Obed, &ldquo;have you come to Wellmouth again, after
+      all these years?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Kendrick smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Captain Bangs,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it is barely possible that I've come here
+      to stay.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To stay! You don't mean to stay for good?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His companion turned around on the seat to stare at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Livin' here!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;You? What on earth&mdash;? What are you goin'
+      to do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The passenger's eyes twinkled, but his tone was solemn enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, very likely,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;That's what I've been doing for some
+      time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but, the last I heard of you, you was practicin' law over to
+      New York.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I was. That, for a young lawyer without funds or influence, is as near
+      doing nothing as anything I can think of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but, John&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;Bailey was John's father&mdash;lived in
+      the village and were the &ldquo;big&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;he much preferred to be called E. Holliday Kendrick&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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, &ldquo;take
+      soundin's and size up the fishin' grounds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So there you are, Captain,&rdquo; he said, in conclusion. &ldquo;That is why I am
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain nodded reflectively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;yes,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I see; I see. Well, well; and you're figgerin'
+      on bein' a lawyer here&mdash;in East Wellmouth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Kendrick nodded also. &ldquo;It may, and probably will be, pretty close
+      figuring at first,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;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&mdash;what do you think of the idea?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain seemed rather dubious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; he grunted. &ldquo;Well, I don't know, John. East Wellmouth ain't a
+      very big place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;or a desk&mdash;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&mdash;not to be sentimental but just
+      truthful&mdash;the one place I remember where I was really happy. And, as
+      I remember too, there used to be no lawyer there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed's forehead puckered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's just it, John,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There is a lawyer here now. Good deal of
+      a lawyer, too&mdash;if you ask HIM. Name's Heman Daniels. You used to know
+      him as a boy, didn't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kendrick nodded assent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I did,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain chuckled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I presume likely you didn't throw many,&rdquo; he observed. &ldquo;That would be
+      expensive fun.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would,&rdquo; was the prompt reply. &ldquo;Cigars cost money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They jogged on for a few minutes in silence. Then said Captain Obed:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, John, what are you plannin' to do first? After we get into port, I
+      mean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      More reflection on the captain's part. Then he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;well, you and me wouldn't pull hair over the rent
+      question, I guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;er&mdash;office of yours got a good front
+      window?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Front window! What in time&mdash;? Yes, I guess likely the front window's
+      all right. But what does a lawyer want of a front window?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To look out of. About all a young lawyer does is look out of the window.
+      Now about a boarding-place?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed had been waiting for this question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got a boardin'-place for you, John,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;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&mdash;well,
+      you take my word for it she's all RIGHT.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His passenger regarded him curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem very enthusiastic, Captain,&rdquo; he observed, with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Bangs' next remark was addressed to the horse. He gruffly bade the
+      animal &ldquo;gid-dap&rdquo; and appeared a trifle confused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am,&rdquo; he admitted, after a moment. &ldquo;You'll be, too, when you see her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He described the High Cliff House and its owner. Mr. Kendrick asked the
+      terms for board and an &ldquo;average&rdquo; room. When told he whistled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That isn't high,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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&mdash;and poor lawyers?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They drove into the yard of Mrs. Barnes' &ldquo;property&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid I'm goin' to lose my best boarder,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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!&rdquo; she added. &ldquo;It does seem as if there was just one thing after
+      the other to worry me. I&mdash;I don't seem to be makin' both ends meet
+      the way I hoped. And&mdash;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&mdash;it's
+      because I'm tired today, I guess likely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful sighed, and then smiled. &ldquo;I know I need help, the right kind of
+      help, just as well as you do, Cap'n Bangs,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;well, I can't afford that, either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;if he gained such an idea and did not express it, how could
+      Heman be expected to contradict?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After dinner&mdash;Kendrick informed his friend it was one of the best he
+      had ever eaten&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, John,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I ain't sure you couldn't make good,
+      and pretty good, too, by settlin' here. This section needs a good lawyer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Another good lawyer you mean. Daniels is here, remember. Judging by his
+      remarks this noon he is very much here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;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&mdash;good substantial folks, too&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He insisted upon Kendrick's returning to the High Cliff House that night.
+      &ldquo;I want Mrs. Barnes to show you the room she's got vacant,&rdquo; he said.
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So Mr. Kendrick inspected the rooms and expressed himself as delighted
+      with them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They're all right in every respect, Captain,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;And the food
+      is more than that. But the price&mdash;although it's surprisingly low
+      considering the value offered&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;once
+      Captain Abner's &ldquo;best parlor&rdquo;&mdash;when there came from outside the
+      rattle of wheels and the voice of Winnie S. shouting &ldquo;Whoa!&rdquo; to General
+      Jackson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed rose to greet her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I swan to man, Miss Howes!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;This IS a surprise! I didn't
+      know you was due for a v'yage in this latitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful laughed. &ldquo;Neither did I,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;It's as big a surprise
+      to me as it is to you, Cap'n. She didn't write me a word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I didn't, Auntie,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I wanted to surprise you. But
+      you're glad to see me, aren't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;GLAD! I don't believe I was ever so glad to see anybody in MY life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We're all glad to see you, Miss Howes,&rdquo; announced the captain. &ldquo;Come down
+      to make us a little visit, hey?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Howes answered the questions one after the other. She had come in May
+      because she found that she could come.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I meant to come the very first moment it was possible for me to do so,&rdquo;
+       she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;well,
+      because&mdash;you mustn't be alarmed, Auntie; there is nothing to be
+      frightened about&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad! Don't talk! But, Emily, if you ain't well, don't you think&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am well. Don't say another word about that. And, Oh, the things I mean
+      to do to help you, Aunt Thankful!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, you do. I know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I knew!&rdquo; she repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But HOW did you know? I never wrote you such a thing, sartin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course you didn't. But I knew because&mdash;well, just because.
+      Everyone who takes boarders needs help. It's a&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;blue room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll have to excuse me, folks,&rdquo; she said, addressing her guests. &ldquo;I
+      know I didn't introduce you to Emily. I was so flustered and&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;Auntie&rdquo;? And many others.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed answered as best he could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's real pretty, isn't she,&rdquo; affirmed Miss Timpson. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hammond chuckled. &ldquo;I remember lots of things,&rdquo; he observed
+      diplomatically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You think she's pretty, don't you, Mr. Daniels?&rdquo; persisted Miss Timpson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      East Wellmouth's legal light bowed assent. &ldquo;A&mdash;ahem&mdash;a very
+      striking young lady,&rdquo; he said with dignity. He had scarcely taken his eyes
+      from the newcomer while she was in the room. John Kendrick said nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed left soon afterward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, John,&rdquo; he said to his friend, as they stood together on the front
+      step, &ldquo;what do you think of this for a boardin'-house? All I prophesied,
+      ain't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kendrick nodded. &ldquo;All that, and more,&rdquo; he answered, emphatically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Like Mrs. Barnes, don't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very much. No one could help liking her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um-hm. Well, I told you that, too. And her niece&mdash;cousin, I mean&mdash;is
+      just as nice as she is. You'll like her, too, when you know her. . . .
+      Eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't speak, Captain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, John,&rdquo; he said, looking up at the clock in the steeple of the
+      Methodist Church, &ldquo;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&mdash;ho! ho!&mdash;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&mdash;he
+      was a stranger in town&mdash;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&mdash;why&mdash;' 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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kendrick hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Holt board is cheaper, isn't it?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yup. It costs less and it's wuth it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Well&mdash;well, I guess we may as well go back to the High Cliff
+      House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed was much surprised, but he said nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;her
+      own tresses as smooth as the back of a haircloth sofa&mdash;declared the
+      effect to be &ldquo;real becomin'.&rdquo; 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.
+      &ldquo;Laviny Marthy was my wife that was,&rdquo; he added, by way of explanation.
+      John Kendrick said very little; in fact, he was noticeably silent during
+      dinner. Miss Timpson said afterward: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was not talkative when alone with Captain Obed that afternoon. They
+      paid one more visit to the building &ldquo;opposite the postoffice&rdquo; 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. &ldquo;I'm not
+      asking charity,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;At least you might charge me enough to pay
+      for the paint I may rub off when I open the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Captain Obed obstinately refused to raise his figure. &ldquo;I've charged
+      enough to risk what paint there is,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;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&mdash;and
+      you won't be liable to hit many lawyers neither.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, John?&rdquo; he began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Captain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you&mdash;have you made up your mind yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kendrick turned over, with his foot, a stone in the path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;&rdquo; he paused and turned the stone back again. Then he drew a long
+      breath. &ldquo;I must make it up,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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&mdash;and
+      I think you are crazy to do it&mdash;I will send for my trunk and my
+      furniture and begin to&mdash;look out of the window.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed was delighted. &ldquo;Shake, John,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;I'm tickled to
+      death. And I'll tell you this: If you can't get a client no other way I'll&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+       he added, after a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man seemed to find the question as hard to answer as the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I like it here,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;I like it very much indeed. But I must
+      economize and the few hundred dollars I have scraped together won't&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was interrupted. Emily Howes appeared at the corner of the house behind
+      them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Supper is ready,&rdquo; she called cheerfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John's comin', Miss Emily,&rdquo; answered the captain. &ldquo;He'll be right there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily waved her hand and hurried back to the dining-room door. Mr.
+      Kendrick kicked the stone into the grass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think I may as well remain here, for the present at least,&rdquo; he said.
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The next morning Mrs. Barnes, over at the village on a marketing
+      expedition, met Captain Bangs on his way to the postoffice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Cap'n,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily came through the gossip mill ground fine, but with surprisingly
+      little chaff. She was &ldquo;pretty as a picture,&rdquo; all the males agreed upon
+      that point. And even the females admitted that she was &ldquo;kind of
+      good-lookin',&rdquo; although Hannah Parker's diagnosis that she was &ldquo;declined
+      to be consumptic&rdquo; and Mrs. Larkin's that she was older than she &ldquo;made out
+      to be,&rdquo; had some adherents. All agreed, however, that she knew how to run
+      a boarding-house and that she was destined to be the &ldquo;salvation&rdquo; of
+      Thankful Barnes' venture at the Cap'n Abner place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Thankful herself was puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't understand it,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily smiled and put her arm about her cousin's waist. &ldquo;Oh, no, you
+      wouldn't, Auntie,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily laughed and patted Mrs. Barnes' plump shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Health!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;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!&rdquo; addressing the lawyer, who
+      had just entered the dining-room, &ldquo;I want your opinion, as a&mdash;a
+      specialist. Auntie is afraid I am ill. Don't you think I look about as
+      well as anyone could look?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Heman bowed. &ldquo;If my poor opinion is worth anything,&rdquo; he observed, &ldquo;I
+      should say that to find fault with your appearance, Miss Howes, would be
+      like venturing to&mdash;er&mdash;-paint the lily, as the saying is. I
+      might say more, but&mdash;ahem&mdash;perhaps I had better not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Judging by the young lady's expression he had said quite enough already.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Idiot!&rdquo; she exclaimed, after he had left the room. &ldquo;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&mdash;some
+      men?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He appears to be a very well-meaning young man,&rdquo; he said, in reply to one
+      of the questions. &ldquo;Rash, of course; very young men are likely to be rash&mdash;and
+      perhaps more hopeful than some of us older and&mdash;ahem&mdash;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&mdash;ah&mdash;which
+      I can't&mdash;or don't wish to&mdash;accept.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When this remark was repeated to Captain Obed the latter sniffed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; he observed, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;John Kendrick, Attorney-at-law&rdquo; upon
+      it in gilt letters, and the &ldquo;looking out of the window&rdquo; really began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello, John!&rdquo; the captain would begin. &ldquo;How are the clients comin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't know, Captain. None of them has as yet got near enough so that I
+      could see how he comes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very. He's losing valuable time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I expected better things of him, I must say. Ain't gettin'
+      discouraged, are you, John?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, indeed. If there was much discouragement in my make-up I should have
+      stopped before I began. How is the fish business, Captain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On one occasion the visitor asked his friend what he found to do all the
+      long days. &ldquo;Don't study law ALL the time, do you, John?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kendrick shook his head. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he answered, gravely. &ldquo;Between studies I
+      enjoy the view. Magnificent view from this window, don't you think?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed inspected the &ldquo;view.&rdquo; The principal feature in the landscape
+      was Dr. Jameson's cow, pastured in the vacant lot between the doctor's
+      home and the postoffice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very fine cow, that,&rdquo; commented the lawyer. &ldquo;An inspiring creature. I
+      spend hours looking at that cow. She is a comfort to my philosophic soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain observed that he wanted to know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; continued Kendrick. &ldquo;She is happy; you can see that she is happy.
+      Now why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Cause she's eatin' grass,&rdquo; declared Captain Obed, promptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm Parker heard a conversation like the foregoing on one occasion and
+      left the office rubbing his forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's two lunatics in that place,&rdquo; he told the postmaster. &ldquo;And if I'd
+      stayed there much longer and listened to their ravin's there'd have been
+      another one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;beat out,&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene was divided in her feelings toward Mr. Parker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's an awful interestin' talker,&rdquo; she confided to Emily. &ldquo;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&mdash;he's got ideas on 'most every kind of thing&mdash;but I have to
+      work, myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean that he doesn't work?&rdquo; asked Emily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think he is lazy, Imogene?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;the measles.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene and Hannah Parker, as Captain Obed said, &ldquo;rubbed each other the
+      wrong way.&rdquo; 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&mdash;&ldquo;usin' up Mrs. Thankful's time,&rdquo; she
+      said they were&mdash;and she and Hannah had some amusing clashes. Miss
+      Parker was inclined to patronize the girl from the Orphan's Home, and
+      Imogene objected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; observed Hannah, on one occasion, &ldquo;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.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene sniffed. &ldquo;There's all kinds of inmates,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. He's to work, I suppose. That's what he's hired for, they
+      tell me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, indeed! Well,&rdquo; with emphasis, &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Last I saw of him he was accommodatin' the horse stall. He may be uptown
+      by this time, for all I know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uptown?&rdquo; in alarm. &ldquo;What would he be uptown for? He ain't got any
+      business there, has he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Search ME. Good many guys&mdash;folks, I mean&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Howes cautioned Imogene against arousing the Parkers' enmity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lordy! I mean mercy sakes, ma'am,&rdquo; exclaimed Imogene, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily smiled. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lor&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;spooks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These&mdash;the prospects&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed, much disturbed, questioned his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Land of love, John!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kendrick laughed. &ldquo;I'm cursed with a strong sense of contrast, Captain,&rdquo;
+       he replied. &ldquo;Those crutches are too straight for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain stared. &ldquo;Straight!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;All crutches are straight,
+      ain't they?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Possibly; but some cripples are crooked.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;too pesky particular,&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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, &ldquo;given me by my
+      clients and friends,&rdquo; he explained. &ldquo;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&mdash;hand them on&mdash;yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;marshmallow toast&rdquo; about a
+      bonfire on the beach, but the &ldquo;regulars&rdquo; were present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's Mrs. Thankful?&rdquo; was Captain Obed's first question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's in the kitchen, I think,&rdquo; replied John. &ldquo;Shall I call her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, no, no! It ain't particular. I just&mdash;just wondered where she
+      was, that's all. I wouldn't trouble her on no account.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sure it would be no trouble, Captain. Better let me tell her you are
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;big news&rdquo; down street and had run over to find out how much truth
+      there was in it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Couldn't scurcely believe it, myself,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;John here, never
+      said a word about his high-toned relation comin' to East Wellmouth. Had
+      you any idea he was comin', John?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Set down, everybody,&rdquo; urged Thankful. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Heman Daniels answered the question. He spoke with authority.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Holliday is a fine gentleman,&rdquo; he announced, emphatically. &ldquo;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&mdash;er&mdash;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&mdash;the family
+      have a house in Florida and one in New York, I believe&mdash;but he will
+      call East Wellmouth his real home and his interests will center here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a general expression of satisfaction. Miss Timpson declared that
+      it was &ldquo;real lovely&rdquo; 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. &ldquo;Folks'll tell you I said it, too,&rdquo; he
+      proclaimed stoutly. &ldquo;They'll bear me out in it, if you ask 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm glad we're goin' to have such nice neighbors,&rdquo; said Thankful. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hannah Parker ain't opened her mouth to talk of anything else since I got
+      back,&rdquo; said Captain Bangs. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John smiled but he said nothing. Emily was silent, also; she was regarding
+      the young man intently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; continued Mr. Daniels, evidently pleased at the approval with
+      which his statement had been met. &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Enlargin' it!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;Mercy sakes! What for? I should think 'twas
+      large enough now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Heman smiled tolerantly. &ldquo;To us&mdash;the ordinary&mdash;er&mdash;citizens,
+      it might appear so,&rdquo; he observed. &ldquo;But the&mdash;er&mdash;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused, apparently to let the importance of the announcement sink in.
+      It sank, or seemed to. Mr. Hammond, however, was somewhat puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now what do you cal'late he meant by that?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps he wanted to buy a drink,&rdquo; suggested John, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Daniels did not laugh. The frivolous interruption evidently jarred
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I scarcely imagine that to be the reason,&rdquo; he said, drily. &ldquo;If Mr. E.
+      Holliday Kendrick does indulge I guess likely&mdash;that is, I presume he
+      would not find it necessary to buy his&mdash;er&mdash;beverages here. He
+      meant public spirit, of course. He asked me who our leading men were.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who were they&mdash;the others, I mean?&rdquo; asked John.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily rubbed away a smile with her handkerchief. Heman noticed her action,
+      and his color brightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They WERE public,&rdquo; he said, rather sharply. &ldquo;They were men of standing&mdash;long
+      standing in the community. Prominent and prosperous citizens, who have
+      lived here long enough for East Wellmouth to know them&mdash;and respect
+      them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was a shot in the bull's eye. Miss Timpson evidently thought so, for
+      she nodded approval. Daniels continued.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They were men of known worth,&rdquo; he went on. &ldquo;Practical citizens whose past
+      as well as present is known. Your cousin&mdash;I believe he is your
+      cousin, Kendrick, although he did not mention the relationship&mdash;was
+      grateful to me for giving him their names. He is a practical man,
+      himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John nodded. &ldquo;He must be,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;No one but a practical man could
+      get all that advice, free, from a lawyer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed laughed aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's a good one,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;Lawyers ain't in the habit of GIVIN'
+      much, 'cordin' to all accounts. How about it, Heman?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Daniels ignored the question and the questioner. He rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are SOME lawyers,&rdquo; he observed, crisply, &ldquo;whose advice is not asked&mdash;to
+      any great extent. I&mdash;I think I will join the group on the beach. It's
+      a beautiful evening. Won't you accompany me, Miss Howes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily declined the invitation. &ldquo;No, thank you, Mr. Daniels,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I
+      am rather tired and I think I won't go out tonight. By the way, Mr.
+      Kendrick,&rdquo; she added, &ldquo;was the great man asking your advice also? I
+      happened to see him go into your office yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Everyone was surprised&mdash;everyone except the speaker and the person
+      addressed, that is&mdash;but Heman's surprise was most manifest. His hand
+      was on the knob of the door, but now he turned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In HIS office?&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Kendrick, was he in to see YOU?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John bowed assent. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;He seems to be contemplating retaining
+      a sort of&mdash;of resident attorney to look after his local affairs. I
+      mentioned your name, Daniels.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Daniels went out. The door banged behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;minor details&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Why don't you tell us the rest? We are all waiting to
+      congratulate you. You accepted, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John shook his head. &ldquo;Why, no,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;I didn't accept, exactly. I
+      did say I would think it over; but I&mdash;well, I'm not sure that I shall
+      accept.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here was the unexpected. His hearers looked at each other in amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You won't accept!&rdquo; cried Thankful. &ldquo;Why, Mr. Kendrick.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Won't accept!&rdquo; shouted Captain Obed. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John smiled. Miss Howes, who seemed as much surprised as the others, did
+      not smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why won't you take it?&rdquo; demanded the captain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;I needed&mdash;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&mdash;but I don't know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No one spoke for a moment. Then Emily broke the silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't know?&rdquo; she repeated, rather sharply. &ldquo;Why not, may I ask?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again it was Emily who spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps you are&mdash;TOO particular,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Can you afford to be so
+      particular?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think there are, too many questions,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I lose patience with
+      you sometimes. Often and often I have known of your refusing cases which
+      other lawyers have taken and won.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meaning Brother Daniels?&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I presume he will. That would be the practical thing to do, and he prides
+      himself on his practicality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None that I know of. But if he did, I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You could refuse to take it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, not easily. I should have accepted his retainer and that, according
+      to legal etiquette, would make me honor bound to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She interrupted again. Her patience was almost gone, that was plain. For
+      the matter of that, so was Captain Obed's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you think that you are a trifle too sensitive concerning honor?&rdquo;
+       she asked. &ldquo;And too suspicious besides? I do. Oh, I am tired of your
+      scruples. I don't like to see you letting success and&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John interrupted her. He leaned forward and spoke, deliberately but
+      firmly. And he looked her straight in the face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I care for both&mdash;now&mdash;more than I ever thought
+      I could care.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo; She rose and moved toward the door.
+      &ldquo;Good night, Mr. Kendrick,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Good night, Captain Bangs. Auntie,
+      you will excuse me, won't you? I am rather tired tonight, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But once more Kendrick interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One moment, please, Miss Howes,&rdquo; he said, earnestly. &ldquo;Do I understand&mdash;do
+      you mean that you wish me to accept Cousin Holliday's retainer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily paused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; she answered, after an instant's hesitation, &ldquo;I&mdash;I really
+      don't see why my wish one way or the other should be very strong. But&mdash;but
+      as a friend of yours&mdash;of course we are all your friends, Mr. Kendrick&mdash;as
+      one of your friends I&mdash;we, naturally, like to see you rise in your
+      profession.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you advise me to accept?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If my advice is worth anything&mdash;yes. Good night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Next day, when Captain Obed made his customary call at the ex-barber-shop,
+      he ventured to ask the question uppermost in his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you decided yet, John?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His friend looked at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meaning&mdash;what?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meanin'&mdash;you know what I mean well enough. Have you decided to take
+      your cousin's offer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've done more than that, Captain. I have accepted the offer and the
+      retaining fee, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed sprang forward and held out his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bully for you, John!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;That's the best thing you ever done in
+      your life. NOW you've really started.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kendrick smiled. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;I have started. Where I may finish
+      is another matter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you'll finish all right. Don't be a Jeremiah, John. Well, well! This
+      is fine. Won't all hands be pleased!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      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. &ldquo;And yet Emily and I are about the only ones who don't look out,&rdquo;
+       she added. &ldquo;There's enough goin' on to look at, that's sartin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;&ldquo;the
+      finest from Buzzard's Bay down&rdquo;; he had torn out the &ldquo;whole broadside&rdquo; of
+      the music-room and was &ldquo;cal'latin'&rdquo; 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. &ldquo;There's a tower onto
+      the main buildin' already,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The High Cliff boarders&mdash;Miss Timpson and Caleb Hammond especially&mdash;spent
+      a great deal of time peering from the living-room windows and watching
+      what they called the &ldquo;goin's on&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;sheet
+      anchor&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If Emily Howes noticed how frequently the captain called&mdash;and it is
+      probable that she did&mdash;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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain,&rdquo; he said, on one occasion, &ldquo;I think you're growing younger every
+      day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! You ain't comparin' me to Heman Daniels, are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She does, hey? Well,&rdquo; tartly, &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;and the help, but I know somebody else that is
+      catchin' the same disease.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meaning Mr. Daniels, I suppose? He is popular, I admit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he? Well, you ought to know best. Seems to me I can call to mind
+      somebody else that is fairly popular&mdash;in some latitudes. By the way,
+      John, you don't seem to be as popular with Heman as you was at first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sorry. My accepting my cousin's retainer may&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I didn't mean that. What was you and Emily doin' at Chris Badger's
+      store yesterday afternoon?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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'&mdash;vegetables?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe so. Captain, you're sidestepping again. It was of you, not me,
+      I was speaking when&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. Well, I'm speakin' about you now. Heman saw you buyin' them
+      vegetables. Tomatters, wa'n't they?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps so. Have you been drinking? What difference does it make whether
+      we bought tomatoes or potatoes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't make none&mdash;to me. But I bet Heman didn't like to see you two
+      buyin' tomatters.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For heaven's sake, why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, 'cause he probably remembered, same as I did, what folks used to call
+      'em in the old days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You HAVE been drinking! What did they use to call them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love apples,&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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,
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Emily likes Mr. Kendrick pretty well, don't she, ma'am?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful regarded her maidservant with disapproval.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What makes you say that, Imogene?&rdquo; she demanded. &ldquo;Of course she likes
+      him. Why shouldn't she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She should, ma'am. And she does, too. And he likes her; that's plain
+      enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Imogene, what are you hintin' at? Do you mean that my cousin is in&mdash;in
+      love with Mr. John Kendrick?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'm. I don't say that, not yet. But there's signs that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene hesitated. &ldquo;No, ma'am,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;I ain't. But&mdash;but maybe
+      I might be, if I wanted to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For mercy sakes! The girl's crazy. You MIGHT be&mdash;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&mdash;or marryin'&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene interrupted. &ldquo;I ain't,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;And, anyhow, ma'am, gettin'
+      married don't necessarily mean you're in love.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It don't! Well, this beats all I ever&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, ma'am, it don't. Sometimes it's a person's duty to get married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful gasped. &ldquo;Duty!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;You HAVE been readin' more of
+      those books, in spite of your promisin' me you wouldn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, ma'am, I ain't. Honest, I ain't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then what do you mean? Imogene, what man do you care enough for to make
+      you feel it's your&mdash;your duty to marry him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No man at all,&rdquo; declared Imogene, promptly and decisively. And that is
+      all she would say on the subject.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful repeated this astonishing conversation, or part of it, to Emily.
+      The latter considered it a good joke. &ldquo;That girl is a strange creature,&rdquo;
+       she said, &ldquo;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&mdash;to be
+      married, or for any other reason.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She acts awful queer, seems to me,&rdquo; said Thankful. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Bangs, to whom this remark was addressed, laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ain't done anything, I guess,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was troubled. &ldquo;I'm sorry,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Imogene is independent, but
+      she's an awful kind-hearted girl. I do hate trouble amongst neighbors.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, there won't be any trouble. Hannah's jealous, that's all the trouble&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But when Kenelm announced that he wasn't sure but that he should &ldquo;heave up
+      his job&rdquo; in a fortnight or so, the situation became more serious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He mustn't leave,&rdquo; declared Thankful. &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Thankful mentioned the matter to Imogene the latter's comment was
+      puzzling but emphatic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you fret, ma'am,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;He ain't left yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; but he says&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Imogene, we mustn't, any of us, interfere between Kenelm and his
+      sister. She IS his sister, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he does say it. That is, he&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped short. &ldquo;What have you got, Imogene?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Barnes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, nothin', ma'am. Only you just wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'd like to go, Cap'n,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed uttered a dismayed protest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Sho! That's too bad. Why, I counted more on your
+      goin' than&mdash;Humph! You've just got to go, that's all. Can't Imogene
+      look after the house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes; I presume likely you must. But now, Mrs. Thankful&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't care, Hannah,&rdquo; vowed Kenelm. &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed interrupted. &ldquo;Hello! Hello!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker colored and seemed embarrassed. Her brother, however, voiced
+      his disgust.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surprised!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Huh! That's nuthin' to what I am. I'm more'n
+      surprised&mdash;I'm paralyzed. To think of that tightfisted old fool
+      lettin' go of money enough to hire a horse and team and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kenelm!&rdquo; Hannah's voice quivered with indignation. &ldquo;Kenelm Parker! The
+      idea!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, that's what I say, the idea! Here's an old critter&mdash;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kenelm Parker, you stop this minute! I'm ashamed of you. Mr. Hammond's a
+      real, nice, respectable man. As to his money&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kenelm Parker! Is THAT what you want to go to that Cattle Show for? To
+      bet on horse trots! To gamble!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Women? What women?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I don't know. How should I know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;well, I suppose likely they are. Imogene said she was goin'
+      and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain, who had remained silent during this family jar, could not
+      resist the temptation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh yes, Imogene's goin',&rdquo; he answered, cheerfully. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm looked as if he wished the speaker might choke. Hannah straightened
+      in her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum!&rdquo; she mused. &ldquo;Hum!&rdquo; and was silent for a moment. Then she asked:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is Mrs. Thankful goin', too? I suppose likely she is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain's cheerfulness vanished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said, shortly, &ldquo;she isn't. She wanted to, but she doesn't feel
+      she can leave the boardin'-house with nobody to look after it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker seemed pleased, for some reason or other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't wonder,&rdquo; she said, heartily. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm sprang to his feet. He was so angry that he stuttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you&mdash;YOU don't care!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;'Cause you're goin'
+      TWICE! That's a divil of a don't care, that is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kenelm! My own brother! Cursin' and swearin'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't, and&mdash;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&mdash;and help
+      out that very boardin'-house. I won't! By&mdash;by thunder-mighty, I
+      won't! I'm goin' to that Cattle Show tomorrow if it takes my last cent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah smiled. &ldquo;How many last cents have you got, Kenelm?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;You
+      was doin' your best to borrer a quarter of me this mornin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got more'n you have. I&mdash;I&mdash;everything there is here&mdash;yes,
+      and every cent there is here&mdash;belongs to me by rights. You ain't got
+      nothin' of your own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker turned upon him. &ldquo;To think,&rdquo; she wailed, brokenly, &ldquo;to think
+      that my own brother&mdash;all the brother I've got&mdash;can stand afore
+      me and heave my&mdash;my poverty in my face. I may be dependent on him. I
+      am, I suppose. But Oh, the disgrace of it! the&mdash;Oh! Oh! Oh!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;never
+      meant nothin'.&rdquo; Then came silence and, at last, the sounds of footsteps on
+      the stairs. They halted in the upper hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, Kenelm,&rdquo; said Hannah, sadly. &ldquo;I'll try to forgive you. I
+      presume likely I must. But when I think of how I've been a mother to you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Darn my duty! I'll LEAVE tomorrow, that's what I'll do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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
+      &ldquo;prodigate&rdquo; himself on his way to his sleeping quarters. And they were
+      spoken as a soliloquy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By time!&rdquo; muttered Kenelm, as he shuffled slowly past the Captain's door.
+      &ldquo;By time! I&mdash;I'll do somethin' desperate!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm goin' after all,&rdquo; she announced. &ldquo;I'm goin' to the Fair with you,
+      Cap'n Bangs. Now what do you think of that? . . . That is,&rdquo; she added,
+      looking at the automobile, &ldquo;if you can find a place to put me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain's joy was as great as his surprise. &ldquo;Place to put you!&rdquo; he
+      repeated. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful smiled happily. &ldquo;I didn't change my mind, Cap'n,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed chuckled. &ldquo;There go the sweethearts,&rdquo; he observed. &ldquo;Handsome
+      young couple, ain't they?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The other occupants of the car joined in the laugh. Emily, in particular,
+      was greatly amused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you call them sweethearts, Captain?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;You don't really
+      suppose&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain burst into a laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? Those two?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;No, no, I was only jokin'. I don't know about
+      Hannah&mdash;single women her age are kind of chancey&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, hello!&rdquo; exclaimed Imogene. &ldquo;I thought you'd gone to the Fair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello!&rdquo; cried Kenelm. &ldquo;Thought you'd gone to the Cattle Show.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Explanations followed. &ldquo;What ARE you cal'latin' to do, then?&rdquo; demanded
+      Kenelm, moodily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me? Stay here on my job, of course. That's what you're goin' to do, too,
+      ain't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parker thrust his hands into his pockets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, by time, I ain't!&rdquo; he declared, fiercely. &ldquo;I ain't got any job no
+      more. I've quit, I have.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quit! You mean you ain't goin' to work for Mrs. Thankful?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene put down the dishcloth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is your sister's doin's, I guess likely,&rdquo; she observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, it ain't! If&mdash;if it was, by time, I wouldn't do it! Hannah
+      treats me like a dog&mdash;yes, sir, like a dog. I'm goin' to show her. A
+      man's got some feelin's, if he is a dog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How are you goin' to show her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene seemed to be thinking. She regarded Mr. Parker with a steady and
+      reflective stare.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you lookin' at me like that for?&rdquo; demanded Kenelm, after the
+      stare had become unbearable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do? By time, I'd do anything! Anything, by thunder-mighty!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would? You mean it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet I mean it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you promise to stay right here and work for Mrs. Thankful as long
+      as she wanted you to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know why she's so&mdash;what do you call it?&mdash;sot?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm fidgeted and looked foolish. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;I&mdash;I
+      wouldn't wonder if 'twas account of you, Imogene. Hannah knows I&mdash;I
+      like you fust rate, that we're good friends, I mean. She's&mdash;well,
+      consarn it all!&mdash;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&mdash;ho,
+      ho! I did kind of get ahead of her then, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene nodded. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;I heard about that. Well, maybe you can
+      get ahead of her again. You wait a minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's them things for?&rdquo; demanded Mr. Kenelm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll tell you pretty soon. Kenelm, you&mdash;you asked me somethin' a
+      while ago, didn't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm started. &ldquo;Why&mdash;why, Imogene,&rdquo; he stammered, &ldquo;I&mdash;I don't
+      know's I know what you mean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you know, all right. You did ask me&mdash;or, anyhow, you would
+      if I hadn't said no before you had the chance. You like me pretty well,
+      don't you, Kenelm?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This pointed question seemed to embarrass Mr. Parker greatly. He turned
+      red and glanced at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why, yes, I like you fust rate, Imogene,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;I&mdash;I
+      don't know's I ever see anybody I liked better. But when it comes to&mdash;You
+      see, that time when I said&mdash;er&mdash;er what I said I was kind of&mdash;of
+      desperate along of Hannah and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you're desperate now, ain't you? Here,&rdquo; sharply, &ldquo;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&mdash;for my sake?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The &ldquo;big day&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;parachute drop.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It'll be way past dinner time when you and I get there, Emily,&rdquo; she said,
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything's fine, ma'am,&rdquo; declared Imogene. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed laughed. &ldquo;Caleb will have to do without his mornin'
+      newspapers for quite a spell to make up for today's extravagance,&rdquo; he
+      declared. &ldquo;That's what 'tis to take the girls around. Better take warnin',
+      John.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Kendrick smiled. &ldquo;Considering,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Imogene,&rdquo; said Thankful, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene shook her head. &ldquo;I can't go right now, thank you, ma'am,&rdquo; she
+      said. &ldquo;I've got company.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily and Thankful looked at each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Company!&rdquo; repeated the former. &ldquo;What company?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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, &ldquo;canted down to leeward&rdquo; and her general appearance
+      indicated alarm and apprehension.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Hannah!&rdquo; exclaimed Thankful. &ldquo;Why, Miss Parker, what's the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah's glance swept the group before her; then it fastened upon Imogene.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's my brother?&rdquo; she demanded. &ldquo;Have you seen my brother?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Bangs broke in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your brother? Kenelm?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Why, what about Kenelm? Ain't he to
+      home?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;I
+      can't think what&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene interrupted. &ldquo;Your brother's all right, Miss Parker,&rdquo; she said,
+      calmly. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah stared at her. Imogene returned the gaze coolly, blandly and with a
+      serene air of confident triumph.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps you'd better come out and see him, ma'am,&rdquo; she went on. &ldquo;He&mdash;we,
+      that is&mdash;have got somethin' to tell you. The rest can come, too, if
+      they want to,&rdquo; she added. &ldquo;It's nothin' we want to keep from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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, &ldquo;I couldn't have stayed behind if I wanted to. My feet had
+      curiosity enough to go by themselves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kenelm Parker,&rdquo; demanded Hannah, &ldquo;what are you doin' here, this time of
+      night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I been eatin' supper,&rdquo; stammered Kenelm, &ldquo;but I&mdash;I'm through
+      now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene interrupted. &ldquo;I guess you did, ma'am,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but you see I
+      asked him to stay here, so he stayed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;YOU asked him! And he stayed! Well, I must say! Kenelm, have you been
+      eatin' supper alone with that&mdash;with that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was too greatly agitated to finish, but as Kenelm did not answer,
+      Imogene did, without waiting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm,&rdquo; she said, soothingly. &ldquo;It's all right. Kenelm and me can eat
+      together, if we want to, I guess. We're engaged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;ENGAGED!&rdquo; Almost everyone said it&mdash;everyone except Hannah; she could
+      not say anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; replied Imogene. &ldquo;We're engaged to be married. We are, aren't we,
+      Kenelm?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kenelm, dear,&rdquo; said Imogene, &ldquo;didn't you hear me? Tell your sister about
+      our bein' engaged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm's mouth opened and shut. &ldquo;Eh&mdash;eh&mdash;&rdquo; he stammered. &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be bashful,&rdquo; urged Imogene. &ldquo;We're engaged to be married, ain't
+      we?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parker gulped, choked and then nodded. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he admitted, faintly. &ldquo;I&mdash;I
+      cal'late we be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His sister took a step forward, her arm raised. Captain Obed stepped in
+      front of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just a minute, Hannah! Heave to! Come up into the wind a jiffy. Let's get
+      this thing straight. Kenelm, do you mean&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The gentleman addressed seemed to mean very little, just then. But
+      Imogene's coolness was quite unruffled and again she answered for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He means just what he said,&rdquo; she declared, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;you designin' critter you!&rdquo; she shouted, addressing Imogene.
+      &ldquo;You plannin', schemin', underhanded&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shh! shh!&rdquo; put in Captain Obed. &ldquo;Easy, Hannah! easy, there!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shan't be easy! You mind your own affairs, Obed Bangs! Kenelm Parker,
+      how dare you say&mdash;how dare you tell me you're goin' to marry this&mdash;this
+      INMATE? What do you mean by it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Poor Kenelm only gurgled. His lady love once more came to his rescue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's told you times enough what he means,&rdquo; she asserted, firmly. &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's enough of that, too. There wasn't any plannin' about it&mdash;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&mdash;only you deserted him
+      to go off with your own&mdash;your own gentleman friend. Humph! I should
+      think you would look ashamed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker's &ldquo;shame&rdquo;&mdash;or her feelings, whatever they might be&mdash;seemed
+      to render her speechless. Her brother saw his chance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know that's just what you done, Hannah,&rdquo; he put in, pleadingly. &ldquo;You
+      know you did. I was so lonesome&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush! Hush, Kenelm!&rdquo; ordered Imogene. &ldquo;You left him alone to go with
+      another man, Miss Parker. For all he knew you might be&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This speech was too much for Emily; she laughed aloud. That laugh was the
+      final straw. Hannah made a dive for her brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You come home with me,&rdquo; she commanded. &ldquo;You come right straight home with
+      me this minute. As for you,&rdquo; she added, turning to Imogene, &ldquo;I shan't
+      waste any more words on a&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm gulped and fidgeted. &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo; he stuttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see, Hannah,&rdquo; continued Imogene&mdash;&ldquo;I suppose I might as well
+      begin to call you 'Hannah,' seein' as we're goin' to be relations pretty
+      soon&mdash;you see, he's engaged to me now and he'll do what I ask him to,
+      of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Engaged! He ain't engaged! I'll fix the 'engagement.' That'll be broke
+      off this very minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And now Imogene played her best trump. She took from her waist a slip of
+      paper and handed it to Captain Obed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just read that out loud, won't you, please, Cap'n Bangs?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain stared at the slip of paper. Then, in a choked voice, he read
+      aloud the following:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      (Signed) KENELM ISSACHAR PARKER.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; exclaimed Imogene. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't? I like to know why I can't! What do you suppose I care for such
+      a&mdash;a&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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,&rdquo; she added triumphantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why, Imogene,&rdquo; he protested, &ldquo;how you talk! I never thought&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kenelm, be still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Imogene,&rdquo; begged Thankful, &ldquo;you mustn't say such things. I never&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, ma'am, please don't you butt in. I know what I'm doin'. Please don't
+      talk to me now. There, Kenelm,&rdquo; turning to the trembling nominee for
+      matrimonial offices, &ldquo;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&mdash;er&mdash;dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whether it was the &ldquo;dear&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He SHAN'T go with you tomorrow,&rdquo; she shrieked. &ldquo;He shan't; I won't let
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene nodded. &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; she said, firmly. &ldquo;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&mdash;then&mdash;well then, I'll go straight to the lawyer
+      with that paper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;engaged&rdquo;
+       young lady had expressed a desire to speak with Miss Howes alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John and the captain were still chuckling, but Thankful refused to see the
+      joke; she was almost in tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's dreadful!&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;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&mdash;and she CAN'T care for him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Land sakes!&rdquo; cried Captain Obed. &ldquo;Is it as bad as that? Does it make you
+      cry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily removed the handkerchief. &ldquo;I'm not crying,&rdquo; she gasped. &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;Oh
+      dear! This is the funniest thing that girl has done yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what is it?&rdquo; asked John. &ldquo;What's the answer? We're dying to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily shook her head. &ldquo;I can't tell you,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I promised I
+      wouldn't. It&mdash;it all came of a talk Imogene and I had a while ago. We
+      were speaking of self-sacrifice and she&mdash;she adores you, Auntie, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful interrupted. &ldquo;Mercy on us!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Adores me!
+      Self-sacrifice! She ain't doin' this crazy, loony thing for ME, I hope.
+      She ain't marryin' that Parker man because&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you don't mind, ma'am,&rdquo; she said, addressing Mrs. Barnes, &ldquo;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&mdash;the rough-house last night
+      not to say anything, either, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Imogene,&rdquo; said Thankful, &ldquo;I didn't know you wanted it to be a
+      secret. Seems to me you said yourself that it wasn't any secret.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Imogene, why? Seems to me if I was willin' to be engaged to that&mdash;to
+      Kenelm, I wouldn't be ashamed to have folks know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I ain't ashamed exactly. I ain't ashamed of what I done, not a bit.
+      Only what's the use of tellin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you'll have to tell some time; when you're married, sartin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm. Well, we ain't married&mdash;yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you're goin' to be, I should presume likely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;how are you goin' to stop her
+      tellin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene nodded knowingly. &ldquo;I shan't have to, I'll bet you, ma'am,&rdquo; she
+      said. &ldquo;She ain't so anxious to have it talked about&mdash;not s'long as
+      there's a chance to break it off, she ain't. She'll keep still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't say 'Lordy,' Imogene,&rdquo; cautioned Thankful, and hastened away.
+      Imogene looked after her and laughed to herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Captain Obed made his morning call Mrs. Barnes told him of this
+      conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how is Hannah this mornin'?&rdquo; asked Thankful. &ldquo;I was surprised enough
+      to see Kenelm in that depot-wagon. I never thought for a minute she'd let
+      him go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain chuckled. &ldquo;Let him!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She did! Mercy on us! Is the world comin' to an end? Last night she was&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful looked doubtful. &ldquo;Well, maybe so,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;and as for Imogene!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, by the way, Mrs. Thankful,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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&mdash;that Jezebel of an Abbie Larkin I don't mind
+      so much. I couldn't stand havin' her in the family&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene, when she returned from the Fair, announced that she had had a
+      perfectly lovely time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He ain't such bad company&mdash;Kenelm, I mean,&rdquo; she observed. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you meet anyone you knew?&rdquo; asked Emily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;he was a fresh guy like all them
+      kind&mdash;'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&mdash;if
+      I could stand it he could, I guessed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm reported for work as usual on Monday morning and he worked&mdash;actually
+      worked all day. For an accepted lover he appeared rather subdued and
+      silent. Captain Obed, who noticed his behavior, commented upon it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cal'late Kenelm's beginnin' to realize gettin' engaged don't mean all
+      joy,&rdquo; he said, with a chuckle. &ldquo;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&mdash;well,
+      Kenelm's like a young one runnin' 'tiddly' on thin ice&mdash;worse'n that,
+      'cause he can't stop on either side, got to keep runnin' between 'em and
+      look out and not fall in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As I see it, Auntie,&rdquo; said Emily, when they discussed the situation, &ldquo;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&mdash;the sort of
+      weather everyone says the Cape usually has in the fall months&mdash;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&mdash;what
+      is he?&mdash;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&mdash;more, if you can get it. Why don't you do
+      that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;henhouse&rdquo;
+       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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't you go to Mr. Cobb again, Auntie?&rdquo; repeated Emily. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Barnes shook her head. &ldquo;I don't think I'd better, Emily,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;He's got one mortgage on this place already.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is for three years, isn't it, Auntie?&rdquo; she repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Barnes tried to evade the question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, not exactly, Emily,&rdquo; she replied. &ldquo;It ain't. You see, he thought
+      three years was a little mite too long, and so&mdash;and so we fixed up
+      for a shorter time. It's all right, though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it? You are sure? Aunt Thankful, tell me truly: how long a term is
+      that mortgage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it's&mdash;it's only for a year, but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A year? Why, then it will fall due next spring. You can't pay that
+      mortgage next spring, can you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know's I can, but&mdash;but it'll be all right, anyhow. He'll
+      renew it, if I ask him to, I presume likely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course he will. He will have to. Auntie, you must go and see him at
+      once. If you don't I shall.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no!&rdquo; declared Mrs. Barnes, hastily. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Solomon Cobb's &ldquo;henhouse&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello!&rdquo; he said, peering over his spectacles. &ldquo;What do you want? . . .
+      Oh, it's you, is it? What's the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful came forward. &ldquo;Matter?&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;What in the world&mdash;what
+      made you think anything was the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Solomon stared at her fixedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you come here for?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To see you. That's worth comin' for, isn't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The joke was wasted, as all jokes seemed to be upon Mr. Cobb. He did not
+      smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What made you come to see me?&rdquo; he asked, still staring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What made me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. What made you? Have you found&mdash;has anybody told you&mdash;er&mdash;anything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Solomon pulled his whiskers. &ldquo;Nothin', I guess,&rdquo; he said, after a moment.
+      &ldquo;Only there's so much fool talk runnin' loose I didn't know but you might
+      have heard I was&mdash;was dead, or somethin'. I ain't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Um&mdash;well, all right; I ain't dead, yet. Set down, won't ye?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful sat down. Mr. Cobb swung about in his own chair, so that his face
+      was in the shadow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hear you've been doin' pretty well with that boardin'-house of yours,&rdquo; he
+      observed. &ldquo;Hear it's been full up all summer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who told you so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I heard. I hear about all that's goin' on, one way or another. I was
+      over there a fortni't ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were? Why didn't you stop in and see me? You haven't been there but
+      once since the place started.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, all right, I ain't askin' you for it. What did you come for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And then Thankful told him. He listened without comment until she had
+      finished, peering over his spectacles and keeping up the eternal
+      &ldquo;weeding.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There,&rdquo; concluded Mrs. Barnes, &ldquo;that's what I came for. Will you do it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The answer was prompt enough this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I won't,&rdquo; said Solomon, with decision.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was staggered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You won't?&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;You won't&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won't lend you no more money. Why should I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right; keep it then&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! You're pretty sassy, seems to me, for anybody that's askin'
+      favors.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm not askin' favors. I told you that when I first come to you. What I
+      asked was just business and nothin' else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she admitted, &ldquo;perhaps it is a favor, then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no&mdash;I guess you didn't. But I hope you will. If you don't&mdash;I&mdash;I&mdash;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&mdash;I&mdash;I&mdash;Please,
+      Oh PLEASE don't close me out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cobb interrupted. &ldquo;Said?&rdquo; he repeated, sharply. &ldquo;What do you mean he
+      said? Eh? What do YOU know he said?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why, he told you about me. You said yourself he did. How much
+      he thought of me, and all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that all you meant?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sshh! shh!&rdquo; Mr. Cobb seemed strangely perturbed. He waved his hand.
+      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no one said it. No one said anything; no one but me. I don't know
+      what you mean&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mean! I don't mean nothin'. There! There! Clear out and don't bother me
+      no more today. I'm&mdash;I ain't feelin' well. Got a cold comin' on, I
+      cal'late. Clear off home and let me alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I can't go until you tell me about that mortgage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;Ah,
+      Ezry, how be you? Come on in. Glad to see you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful rose. &ldquo;I'll go,&rdquo; she said, drearily. &ldquo;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&mdash;and Uncle Abner's.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her relative waved both hands this time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shh!&rdquo; he ordered, desperately. &ldquo;Don't say no more now; I don't want the
+      whole creation to know my business and yours. Go on home. I&mdash;I'll
+      come over and see you by and by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's somethin' to do with Uncle Abner,&rdquo; she soliloquized. &ldquo;He don't like
+      to have Uncle Abner mentioned. Hum! I wonder what the reason is. I only
+      wish I knew.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If this place is to become really profitable, Auntie,&rdquo; she insisted,
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;on your prospects?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. No, I don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful's answer was prompt and sharp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed I shan't,&rdquo; she declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will. I'll be glad to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emily Howes, if you say one word to Cap'n Obed about borrowin' money from
+      him I'll&mdash;I'll never speak to you afterwards. Go to Captain Obed. The
+      idea!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why not, Auntie? He IS a friend, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Auntie, you went to Mr. Cobb because he was your relative. You said
+      that was the very reason why you went to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily's next question, naturally, concerned the renewal of that mortgage.
+      Mrs. Barnes said shortly that she guessed the renewal would be all right.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's comin' over to settle it with me pretty soon,&rdquo; she added. &ldquo;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&mdash;why, maybe Mr. Kendrick would lend it, if I
+      asked him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Kendrick? Why, Auntie, Mr. Kendrick has no money, or only a very
+      little. He is doing well&mdash;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful smiled. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she observed, drily, &ldquo;I notice he tells you a lot
+      of things&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For mercy sakes, come into the livin'-room with me, Emily,&rdquo; she begged.
+      &ldquo;I shan't know how to act in the face of all that money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily was much amused. &ldquo;I never knew you to be frightened of money before,
+      Auntie,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I thought you were considering borrowing some of this
+      very&mdash;ahem&mdash;personage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;what
+      do you call it?&mdash;personage&mdash;come to me for somethin', the land
+      knows what.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps HE wants to borrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But this Emily firmly declined to do. &ldquo;He's not my caller, Auntie,&rdquo; she
+      said. &ldquo;He didn't even ask if I were in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So Thankful went into the living-room alone to meet the personage. And she
+      closed all doors behind her. &ldquo;If you won't help you shan't listen,&rdquo; she
+      declared. &ldquo;And I don't know's I'll tell you a word after he's gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you think that&mdash;that walkin' money-bag came here for?&rdquo; she
+      demanded. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Auntie,&rdquo; cried Emily, &ldquo;of course you told him you didn't want to
+      sell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what did he say to that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was queer, what else did he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how did it end?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think you should consult a lawyer, Auntie,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;Mr. John Kendrick, I mean? He will
+      advise you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful nodded. &ldquo;I will,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do declare, Mr. Daniels,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Daniels shook his head. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he answered, gravely. &ldquo;My cases are
+      progressing satisfactorily. My worries just now are not professional. I
+      heard some news this afternoon which&mdash;er&mdash;upset me somewhat,
+      that is all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;News? Upsettin' news? Land sakes, do tell us! What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heman's a heap more anxious to see her than she is to see him,&rdquo; observed
+      the former. &ldquo;He's pretty fur gone in that direction, judgin' by the
+      weather signs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cal'late that's so,&rdquo; she agreed. &ldquo;Still, he's been just as fur gone
+      with others, if all they say's true. Mr. Daniels is a fascinator, so
+      everybody says.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How about that widow woman over to Bayport?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;her husband owned any quantity
+      of cranberry bog property&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I suppose he's a good man; I never heard a word against him that
+      way. And he's a risin' lawyer&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;or riz.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. But&mdash;but I somehow wouldn't want Emily to marry him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed agreed heartily. &ldquo;Neither would I,&rdquo; he declared. Then, after
+      a moment, he added: &ldquo;Hasn't it seemed to you that John Kendrick was kind
+      of&mdash;well, kind of headin' up towards&mdash;towards&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Ye-es, I have thought so. I joke Emily a little about him
+      sometimes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So do I, John. How do you think she&rdquo;&mdash;with a jerk of the head toward
+      the living-room&mdash;&ldquo;feels&mdash;er&mdash;that way?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You say you joke with John about Emily. How's he take the jokes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;er&mdash;that
+      is&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But he was destined not to &ldquo;fetch&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie,&rdquo; she said, sharply, &ldquo;Auntie, will you come into the living-room a
+      moment. I want you to hear what that&mdash;what Mr. Daniels says. Don't
+      stop to talk. Come! Captain Bangs, you may come, too. You are&mdash;are
+      his friend and you should hear it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Mr. Daniels,&rdquo; said Emily, &ldquo;I want you to tell my cousin and Captain
+      Bangs just what you have told me. It's not true&mdash;I know it's not
+      true, and I want them to be able to contradict such a story. Tell them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Heman fidgeted with the paper-cutter on the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I merely told Miss Howes,&rdquo; he said, nervously, &ldquo;what was told me. It was
+      told me by one of the parties most interested and so I accepted it as the
+      truth. I&mdash;I have no personal interest in the matter. As&mdash;as a
+      friend and&mdash;and a lawyer&mdash;I offered my services, that is all. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was interrupted by the opening of the front door. John Kendrick,
+      wearing his light overcoat, and hat in hand, entered the living-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm awfully sorry to be so late, Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; he began. &ldquo;I was detained
+      at the Centre. Hello, Captain! Good evening, Daniels! Good evening, Miss
+      Howes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed and Thankful said, &ldquo;Good evening.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kendrick looked from one pair to the other. When he next spoke it was to
+      Emily Howes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what's the matter?&rdquo; he asked, with a smile. &ldquo;This looks like a
+      council of war.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily did not smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Kendrick,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I am very glad you came. Now you can deny it
+      yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John gazed at her in puzzled surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Deny it?&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Deny what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Miss Howes could answer Heman Daniels spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kendrick,&rdquo; he said, importantly, &ldquo;Miss Howes has heard something
+      concerning you which she doesn't like to believe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed? Did she hear it from you, may I ask?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that is why she doesn't believe it? Daniels, I'm surprised. Even
+      lawyers should occasionally&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily interrupted. &ldquo;Oh, stop!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Don't joke, please. This is not
+      a joking matter. If what I have been told IS true I should&mdash;But I
+      know it isn't&mdash;I KNOW it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John bowed. &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;What have you heard?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has heard&mdash;&rdquo; began Heman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, Daniels. I asked Miss Howes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily began a reply, but she did not finish it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been told&mdash;&rdquo; she began. &ldquo;I have been told&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John turned to his fellow practitioner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Now, Daniels, what is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Heman did not hesitate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Howes has heard,&rdquo; he said, deliberately, &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John nodded, gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid it is,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful, who had been so far a perplexed and troubled listener, answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes,&rdquo; she admitted. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed struck his fists together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The swab!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Well, if that don't beat all my goin' to sea!
+      Humph! I'd like to know how he cal'lates to do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anything more, Daniels?&rdquo; inquired John.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We? What we? Has Mrs. Barnes&mdash;or Miss Howes&mdash;have they engaged
+      you as their attorney, Daniels?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Daniels could reply Emily asked a question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he&mdash;has he asked you to help him?&rdquo; she demanded. &ldquo;Has he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John smiled. &ldquo;I doubt if it could be called asking,&rdquo; he observed. &ldquo;He gave
+      me orders to that effect shortly after he left here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily gasped. Thankful and Captain Obed said, &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; in concert. Heman
+      Daniels smiled triumphantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see, Miss Howes?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One moment, Daniels,&rdquo; broke in Kendrick, sharply. &ldquo;You haven't answered
+      my question yet. Just where do you come in on this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo; began Daniels, but once more Emily interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you&mdash;&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Tell me; are you going to help that man force
+      my cousin into giving up her home?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again John smiled. &ldquo;Well, to be frank,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop! You persist in treating this affair as a joke. It is NOT a joke&mdash;to
+      my cousin, or to me. Did you tell that man you would help him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew it! I was certain of it! Of course you didn't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me, Miss Howes,&rdquo; put in Daniels. &ldquo;We have not heard all yet.
+      Kendrick, do I understand that you told your cousin and&mdash;er&mdash;benefactor
+      that you would NOT help him in his infamous scheme?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John's patience was nearing its limits. He smiled no more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know what you understand, Daniels,&rdquo; he said, crisply. &ldquo;Your
+      understanding in many matters is beyond me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But did you say you would not help him?&rdquo; persisted Emily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why no, not exactly. He did not wait to hear what I had to say. He seemed
+      to take my assistance for granted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Daniels laughed scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see, Miss Howes?&rdquo; he said again. Then, turning to Thankful: &ldquo;Mrs.
+      Barnes, I met Mr. Holliday Kendrick on the street just after he had come
+      from the interview with his&mdash;er&mdash;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,&rdquo; indicating John, &ldquo;had accepted the responsibility. In fact he
+      said he had.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed snorted. &ldquo;That's plaguy nonsense!&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goodness knows I hope he can't!&rdquo; moaned Thankful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And in the meantime we are waiting to hear what his lawyer has to say,&rdquo;
+       observed Heman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John stepped forward. &ldquo;Daniels,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it strikes me that your 'we's'
+      are a bit frequent. Why are you interfering in this affair?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Daniels drew himself up. &ldquo;I am not interfering,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you demand that, do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do. Will you answer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah ha! I thought not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll answer no demands from you. Why should I? If Mrs. Barnes or Miss
+      Howes asks me I will answer, of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Kendrick&mdash;&rdquo; began Thankful. Emily interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait, Auntie,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the first time John hesitated. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, slowly, &ldquo;for one
+      reason I was taken completely by surprise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So was Aunt Thankful, when he came to her. But she refused.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;but I did
+      accept, and I have acted as his attorney since. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop! I did not ask for excuses. I ask you, as Mr. Daniels asked, are you
+      for my cousin or against her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I ask you what is Mr. Daniels' warrant for asking me anything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Answer my question! Will you fight for my cousin's rights, or have you
+      sold yourself to&mdash;to this benefactor of yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John flushed at the repetition of the word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have tried to give value received for whatever benefactions have come
+      my way,&rdquo; he said, coldly. &ldquo;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&mdash;not for one case but for all cases which his client
+      may give him&mdash;he is, by the ethics of his profession, honor bound to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Honor!&rdquo; scornfully. &ldquo;Suppose we omit the 'honor'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is not easy to do. I AM my cousin's attorney. But, as Mrs. Barnes'
+      friend and yours, I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily stamped her foot. &ldquo;Friend!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;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&mdash;I am through. I&mdash;I am going.
+      Please don't stop me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was on her way to the door of the dining-room. Heman Daniels called
+      her name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One minute, Miss Howes,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, thank you, Mr. Daniels. I&mdash;I have no doubt we shall need
+      your services. But please don't&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John Kendrick was at her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Howes&mdash;Emily&mdash;&rdquo; he pleaded. &ldquo;Don't misunderstand me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She burst out at him like, as Captain Obed said afterward, &ldquo;an August
+      thunder tempest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Misunderstand!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;I don't misunderstand. I understand quite
+      well. Don't speak to me again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door closed behind her. Thankful, after an instant's hesitation,
+      hurried out after her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excuse me, gentlemen,&rdquo; said Daniels, and followed Mrs. Barnes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed turned to his friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the Lord sakes, John!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Kendrick paid not the slightest attention. He was gazing at the door
+      through which Emily and Thankful had disappeared. His face was white.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John,&rdquo; repeated the captain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; ordered John. He strode to the door and opened it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emily!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Emily!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John,&rdquo; said the captain again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush! Don't say anything to me now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emily,&rdquo; he began. Then, seeing Daniels, he remained silent, looking at
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kendrick,&rdquo; said Heman, with dignity, &ldquo;in the matter which we have just
+      been discussing you will hereafter deal with me. That is Mrs. Barnes' wish
+      and also Miss Howes'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John did not reply. Once more he walked to the door and opened it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Howes!&rdquo; he called. &ldquo;Emily! If you will let me explain&mdash;Emily!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll go fetch her,&rdquo; declared Captain Obed. John pushed him back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't interfere, Captain,&rdquo; he said, sharply. &ldquo;Emily!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No answer. Daniels made the next remark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid you don't get the situation, Kendrick,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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,&rdquo; emphasizing the
+      word, &ldquo;to act as their representative in this and all matters.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John turned and looked at the speaker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In all matters?&rdquo; he asked, slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes sir, in all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And they refuse to see me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would&mdash;er&mdash;seem so. . . . Is there anything further,
+      Kendrick? If not then this affair between your&mdash;er&mdash;client and
+      mine would appear to be a matter of skill for you and me to contest. We'll
+      see who wins.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John still looked at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So that's it then,&rdquo; he said, after a moment. &ldquo;You and I are to determine
+      which is the better lawyer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it would seem. Though, considering my record and experience, I don't
+      know that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That such a test is necessary? I don't know that it is, either. But we'll
+      have it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He walked from the room and they heard him ascending the stairs. Captain
+      Obed swore aloud. Heman Daniels laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Kendrick ain't here,&rdquo; she said, in answer to the caller's question.
+      &ldquo;He's gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gone? So early? Where's he gone; down to his office?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. He's gone, that's all I do know. He didn't stop for any
+      breakfast either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! That's funny. Where's Mrs. Thankful?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Thankful came she looked grave enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm awful glad to see you, Cap'n,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When she and Captain Obed were in the dining-room alone, and with both
+      doors closed, Thankful told of the morning's happenings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They're bad enough, too,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;Almost as bad as that silly
+      business last night&mdash;or worse, if such a thing's possible. To begin
+      with, Mr. John Kendrick's gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Imogene said he'd gone. But what made him go so early?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't understand, Cap'n. I mean he's gone&mdash;gone for good. He
+      isn't goin' to board or room here any more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed whistled. &ldquo;Whew!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;You don't mean it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;but he's gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tut! tut! Dear, dear! Where's he gone to? Did he say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed pulled at his beard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She didn't give him much of a chance last evenin', seemed to me,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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!&rdquo; as the thought of Mr. Solomon Cobb crossed her mind, &ldquo;seems
+      as if some folks would do anything for money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello, Captain,&rdquo; he observed, as his caller entered. &ldquo;I trust you've
+      taken the necessary precautions, fumigated and all that sort of thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fumigated?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain grunted. &ldquo;Umph!&rdquo; he sniffed. &ldquo;They don't know it yet; neither
+      do I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah yes, but they will shortly. Daniels will take care that they do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John, for thunder sakes&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better escape contagion while you can, Captain. Unclean! Unclean!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;to try to&mdash;to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His friend interrupted. &ldquo;Captain Bangs,&rdquo; he said, sharply, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Consarn your practicality! Are you goin' to help that&mdash;that
+      gold-dust twin&mdash;that cussed relation of yours, grab Thankful Barnes'
+      house and land from her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, Bangs; when the&mdash;gold-dust twin isn't bad&mdash;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&mdash;others. But I did accept
+      because&mdash;well, because. Now the complications are here, and what
+      then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John&mdash;John Kendrick, if you dast to set there and tell me you're
+      cal'latin' to&mdash;you can't do it! You can't be goin' to try such a&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, I can. I may not succeed, but I can try.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed seldom lost his temper, but he lost it now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By the everlastin'!&rdquo; he roared. &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Easy, Captain, easy. Perhaps I realize what I'm doing better than you
+      do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't neither. Emily Howes&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John's interruption was sharper now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That'll do, Bangs,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Suppose we omit names.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kendrick smiled. &ldquo;I should say there was no driving necessary,&rdquo; he
+      observed. &ldquo;Daniels seems to be already the chosen guardian and adviser. I
+      do realize what I'm doing, Captain, and,&rdquo; deliberately, &ldquo;I shall do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John, Emily&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush! I like you, Captain Obed. I don't wish to quarrel with you. Take my
+      advice and omit that young lady's name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed made one last appeal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John,&rdquo; he pleaded, desperately, &ldquo;don't! I know you're sort of&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it? I think not. I was quite willing to discuss the rights and wrongs,
+      but I had no&mdash;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&mdash;of law&mdash;between Daniels and myself. Very well; I am a
+      lawyer. Good morning, Captain Bangs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I could tell you, Auntie,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know. But it don't seem as if he could act so to me. It don't seem&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush! It is quite evident he can. Don't say any more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right. I'll tell him you and I have agreed&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Tell him nothing of the sort. Don't bring my name into the matter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Emily, you don't think I ought to sell&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;never! Oh, Auntie, I feel wicked
+      and mean to leave you now, with all this new trouble; but I must&mdash;I
+      must. I can't stay here&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Thankful, are you daring to hint that I&mdash;I&mdash;care in the
+      least for that&mdash;him? How dare you insinuate such a thing to me? I&mdash;I
+      despise him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; hastily. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They said good-by at the front gate. Emily, too, was trying to appear
+      cheerful, and the parting was hurried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by, Auntie,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;well, that will be all right, too.
+      You won't worry, will you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no; I'll be too busy to worry. And you'll come down for the Christmas
+      vacation? You will, won't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll try . . . I mean I will if I can arrange it. Good-by, dear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The depot-wagon rattled out of the yard. Winnie S. pulled up at the gate
+      to shout a bit of news.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; he yelled, &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;all right&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she&mdash;did Miss Howes leave no message for me?&rdquo; he inquired, with
+      a carelessness which, to Thankful, seemed more assumed than real.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered the latter, &ldquo;no, unless you call it a message about takin'
+      the responsibility of Holliday Kendrick and his schemes off my hands. That
+      is,&rdquo; remembering Emily's desire not to have her name mentioned in the
+      matter, &ldquo;she didn't leave that. But I guess you can take charge of that
+      mess, if you want to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Daniels smiled a superior smile. &ldquo;I intended doing so,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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&mdash;er&mdash;late&mdash;er&mdash;friend
+      is learning what our best citizens think of his attitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;moral leprosy&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not that you're liable to need help,&rdquo; said one caller. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But,&rdquo; declared the captain, stoutly, when he and Thankful were together,
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;boarding-house nuisance&rdquo; in the hands of his attorney. &ldquo;I shall
+      have that property,&rdquo; he announced, emphatically. &ldquo;I may not get it for
+      some time, but I shall get it. I make it a point to get what I go after.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily, in her letters, those written soon after her arrival in South
+      Middleboro, said nothing concerning her plan, the &ldquo;secret&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good mornin', ma'am,&rdquo; he hailed, cheerfully. His eyes were twinkling and
+      he appeared to be in high good humor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, good mornin', Cap'n,&rdquo; said Thankful. &ldquo;I&mdash;you&mdash;you're goin'
+      somewhere, I should judge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain shook his head. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was surprised. &ldquo;She did?&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;That's funny. She didn't
+      say a word to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I told her not to. You see, the&mdash;the somethin' I was expectin'
+      was for you, so I thought we'd make it a little surprise. Emily&mdash;Miss
+      Howes, she sent it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emily&mdash;sent somethin' to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yup.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the land sakes! Well,&rdquo; after a moment, &ldquo;did it come? Where is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, it came. It's right there in the buggy. Don't you see it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello, Aunt Thankful,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I've come to stay with you, I have.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful started, stared, and then made a rush for the buggy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Georgie Hobbs!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;You blessed little scamp! Come here to me
+      this minute. Well, well, well!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Georgie came and was received with a bear hug and a shower of kisses.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, well!&rdquo; repeated Thankful. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I came on the cars,&rdquo; declared Georgie, proudly. &ldquo;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.&mdash;I mean Captain Bangs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet you did!&rdquo; agreed the delighted captain. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful held her &ldquo;relation&rdquo;&mdash;he was Emily's half-brother and her own
+      favorite next to Emily herself in that family&mdash;at arm's length. &ldquo;You
+      blessed little&mdash;little mite!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Georgie nodded. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Emmie, she's wrote you all about me. I've
+      got the letter pinned inside of me here,&rdquo; patting his small chest. &ldquo;And
+      I'm goin' to stay ever so long, I am. I want to see the pig and the hens
+      and the&mdash;and the orphan, and everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you shall,&rdquo; declared Thankful. &ldquo;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?&rdquo; turning to Captain Obed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain laughed aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sartin I did,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Forgiveness was granted. Thankful would have forgiven almost anything just
+      then. The &ldquo;commodore&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;orphan.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The coming of the &ldquo;commodore&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was something of a care, there was no doubt of that. Imogene, whom he
+      liked and who liked him, declared that &ldquo;that young one had more jump in
+      him than a sand flea.&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;gone dead&rdquo;
+       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. &ldquo;A feller can't set down
+      to rest a minute,&rdquo; declared Kenelm, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But even Kenelm confessed to a liking for the &ldquo;pesky little nuisance.&rdquo;
+       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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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, &ldquo;'twas either that or havin' the critter
+      two foot under water.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed, like every citizen of East Wellmouth, was disgusted with the
+      weather. &ldquo;I was cal'latin' to put in my spare time down to the shanty
+      buildin' a new dory,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I guess now I'll build an ark instead.
+      If this downpour keeps on I'll need one bad as Noah ever did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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. &ldquo;Of
+      course I shouldn't expect to get 'em for the same if 'twas summer,&rdquo; she
+      explained to Thankful, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And Thankful, although conscious of an injustice somewhere, did not like
+      to refuse her &ldquo;good friend.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It came to me all of a sudden,&rdquo; panted Miss Timpson, who was out of
+      breath but enthusiastic. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What came to you?&rdquo; demanded the puzzled Thankful. &ldquo;What are you talkin'
+      about&mdash;the bureau?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;study.&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;effect,&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I declare,&rdquo; she said, as she and Thankful sat together in the living-room
+      that evening, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy on us! Why?&rdquo; demanded Thankful, a trifle impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I don't know. Maybe 'cause I'm kind of tired and nervous tonight. I
+      feel as if&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you ever have presentiments, Mrs. Barnes?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;calling?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; with dismal resignation, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not raining when she awoke, but the morning was gray and cloudy.
+      She came downstairs early, so early&mdash;for it was Sunday morning, when
+      all East Wellmouth lies abed&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Land sakes!&rdquo; exclaimed Thankful. &ldquo;Are you up? What's the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Timpson, who had started violently when Mrs. Barnes entered, turned
+      toward the latter a face as white, so Thankful described it afterward, &ldquo;as
+      unbleached muslin.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is it?&rdquo; she gasped. &ldquo;Oh, it's you, Mrs. Barnes. It IS you, isn't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no. I ain't sick&mdash;in body, anyway. And nobody can get me
+      anything this side of the grave. Mrs. Barnes, I'm going.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're GOIN'? What? You don't mean you're dyin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Considering her lodger's remarks of the previous evening, those relating
+      to &ldquo;going when the time came,&rdquo; it is no wonder Thankful was alarmed. But
+      Miss Timpson shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful collapsed upon a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goin'!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;You're goin' to leave here? Why&mdash;why you've
+      just fixed up to stay!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Timpson groaned. &ldquo;I know,&rdquo; she wailed; &ldquo;I thought I had, but I&mdash;I've
+      changed my mind. I'm going to leave&mdash;now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My trunks ain't ready yet,&rdquo; went on the schoolmistress. &ldquo;I tried to pack
+      'em, but&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? I didn't hear anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It ain't anything you've done or haven't done, Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll come back and pack 'em,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But WHY are you leavin'?&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;I&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful stared at her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rebecca Timpson!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Have you gone crazy? What are you
+      talkin' about? A warnin'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, a warning. I was warned last night. You&mdash;you knew I was a twin,
+      didn't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A which?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;er&mdash;well,
+      she was different from me in one way&mdash;she couldn't help it, poor
+      thing&mdash;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For mercy sakes, what's your sister's snorin' got to do with&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush! Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; with intense solemnity. &ldquo;As sure as you and I live
+      and breathe this minute, my sister Medora came to me last night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;CAME to you! Why&mdash;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;HUSH! Oh, hush! DON'T talk so. I didn't dream. Mrs. Barnes, I woke up at
+      two o'clock this morning and&mdash;and I heard Medora snoring as plain as
+      I ever heard anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was strongly tempted to laugh, but the expression on Miss
+      Timpson's face was so deadly serious that she refrained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goodness!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Is that all? That's nothin'. A night like last
+      night, with the rain and the blinds and the wind&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went into that room,&rdquo; continued Miss Timpson. &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo; with a shudder, &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful fought with her feelings. She put a hand on the back of her neck
+      and rubbed vigorously. &ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo; she declared, bravely. &ldquo;You imagined
+      it. Nonsense! Whoever heard of a snorin' ghost?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Miss Timpson only shook her head. &ldquo;Good-by, Thankful,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I
+      shan't tell anybody; as I said, I didn't mean to tell you. If&mdash;if you
+      hear that anything's happened to me&mdash;happened sudden, you know&mdash;you'll
+      understand. You can tell Imogene and Mr. Daniels and Mr. Hammond that I&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Caleb Hammond rose that Sunday morning with a partially developed
+      attack of indigestion and a thoroughly developed &ldquo;grouch.&rdquo; The indigestion
+      was due to an injudicious partaking of light refreshment&mdash;sandwiches,
+      ice cream and sarsaparilla &ldquo;tonic&rdquo;&mdash;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 &ldquo;flush&rdquo;
+       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 &ldquo;blow the crowd.&rdquo; The crowd was quite willing to be
+      blown and said so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The &ldquo;grouch&rdquo; was due partially to the unwonted dissipation and its
+      consequences and partly to the fact that his winter &ldquo;flannels&rdquo; had not
+      been returned by Mrs. Melinda Pease, to whom they had been consigned for
+      mending and overhauling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;no
+      matter; on the ninth Mr. Hammond wore light underwear and shivered; on the
+      tenth he wore his &ldquo;flannels&rdquo; and perspired. It was another of his
+      principles, and Caleb had a deserved reputation for adhering to principle
+      and being &ldquo;sot&rdquo; in his ways.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So, when, on this particular tenth of November, this Sabbath morning, he
+      rose, conscious of the sandwiches and &ldquo;tonic,&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; he called. &ldquo;Hi&mdash;i, Mrs. Barnes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He wants his flannels,&rdquo; she announced. &ldquo;Wants to know where them winter
+      flannels Mrs. Pease sent home yesterday are. Why, ain't they in his room,
+      he says.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful sniffed. Her experience with Miss Timpson, and the worry caused
+      by the latter's leaving, had had their effect upon her patience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy sakes!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene chuckled. &ldquo;I don't think she brought 'em at all,&rdquo; she replied.
+      &ldquo;She wa'n't here yesterday. She&mdash;why, yes, seems to me Kenelm said he
+      heard she was sick abed with a cold.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful nodded. &ldquo;So she is,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene went and returned with her grin broader than ever.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He says she did bring 'em,&rdquo; she announced. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+       as another shout for &ldquo;Mrs. Barnes&rdquo; came from above. &ldquo;Here, never mind,
+      Imogene; I'll tell him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She went into the front hall and called up the stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your things ain't here, Mr. Hammond,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Melindy didn't bring
+      'em. She's laid up with a cold and probably couldn't get 'em ready.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Course she's got 'em ready! She always has 'em ready. She knows I want
+      'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe so, but she ain't always sick, 'tain't likely. They ain't here,
+      anyway. You won't need 'em today.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Need 'em? Course I need 'em. It's colder than Christmas.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Healthy note, this is!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful sniffed. &ldquo;I suppose you do,&rdquo; she said, adding under her breath,
+      &ldquo;though how much you pay is another thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is this all the breakfast you've got?&rdquo; queried Caleb.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes; it's what we always have Sunday mornin's. Isn't it what you
+      expected?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, why don't you have one? I should think you would. You can afford
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He stalked gloomily along the path by the edge of the bluff. Captain Obed
+      Bangs came up the path and they met.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello, Caleb!&rdquo; hailed the captain. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hammond grunted and hurried on. Captain Obed had chosen a poor topic
+      if he desired a lengthy conversation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Melindy's real poorly,&rdquo; said Emma. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't you comin' to meetin'?&rdquo; asked Abbie Larkin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Naw,&rdquo; snarled Caleb, &ldquo;I ain't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not? And it's such a lovely day, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ugh!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why ain't you comin' to meetin', Mr. Hammond?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Cause I don't feel like it, that's why.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Caleb did not deign a reply. He stalked across the road and took the path
+      to the shore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah opened the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good mornin', Caleb,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Come in, won't you? It looks sort of
+      chilly outdoor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This WAS a kindred spirit. Mr. Hammond entered the Parker sitting-room.
+      Hannah motioned toward a chair and he sat down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mornin', Hannah,&rdquo; said Caleb. &ldquo;'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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker shook her head. &ldquo;Oh, I don't know, Caleb,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;They
+      ain't all they might be, I'm afraid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the matter? Ain't you feelin' up to the mark?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes&mdash;yes; I'm feeling well enough in body. I ain't sick, if
+      that's what you mean. I'm kind of blue and&mdash;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sighed and Mr. Hammond sighed also.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ain't the only one,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I'm bluer'n a whetstone myself, this
+      mornin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the trouble?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Trouble? Trouble enough! Somethin' happened this mornin' that riled me
+      all up. It&mdash;&rdquo; he paused, remembering that the cause of the &ldquo;rilin'&rdquo;
+       was somewhat personal, not to say delicate. &ldquo;Well&mdash;well, never mind
+      what it was,&rdquo; he added. &ldquo;'Twas mighty aggravatin', that's all I've got to
+      say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah sighed again. &ldquo;Ah, hum!&rdquo; she observed. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey? Good land! No flesh and blood! What do you want&mdash;bones?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I don't mean that. I wish I didn't have any&mdash;any relations of my
+      own flesh and blood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; sneered Hannah. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you're cookin' 'em yet, ain't you? I ain't asked you to stop.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will stop, though. I will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, then; heave ahead and stop. I cal'late my wife'll be willin'
+      to cook for me, if it's needful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your wife! She ain't your wife yet. And she shan't be. This ridiculous
+      engaged business of yours is&mdash;is&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, if you don't like the engagin', why don't you stop it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't YOU stop it, you mean. You would if you had the feelin's of a
+      man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but, O Kenelm, I can't think of your gettin' married! I can't
+      think of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;well, I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So she said no more concerning the &ldquo;ride&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So Kenelm's been actin' unlikely, has he?&rdquo; queried Caleb. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker looked as if the hospital picture was more appealing than
+      dreadful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish he was your brother,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Or I wish I was independent and
+      had a house of my own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;yes, and
+      wear. And I'd have 'em when I wanted 'em, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't they give you good things to eat over at Mrs. Barnes'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, they're good enough maybe, if they're what you want. But boardin's
+      boardin'; 'tain't like your own home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped short, seemingly struck by a new and amazing idea. Miss Parker
+      rambled on about the old days when &ldquo;dear papa&rdquo; was alive; how happy she
+      was then, and so on, with occasional recourse to the handkerchief.
+      Suddenly Caleb slapped his knee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's all right,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It's fine&mdash;and it's commonsense, too.
+      Hannah, what's the matter with you and me gettin' married?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah stared at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Married!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;Me get married! Who to, for the land sakes? Are
+      you out of your head?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a mite. What's the matter with you marryin' me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My soul! Is this a funny-paper joke, or are you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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&mdash;that is, you could look out for me,
+      and I&mdash;well, I suppose likely I could look out for you, too. Why
+      not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, how you talk, Caleb Hammond!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I swan! Get married at our&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;liberal provider.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose you're thinkin' about that brother of yours,&rdquo; suggested Mr.
+      Hammond. &ldquo;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&mdash;maybe.
+      If he does he'll mind his p's and q's, I tell you that. He'll find out
+      who's boss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;inmate.&rdquo; If she, Hannah, were to marry and leave the pair instead of
+      being herself left! Oh, the glory of it&mdash;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&mdash;she, the wife of a rich man! Oh,
+      wonderful!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, come on, Hannah, come on,&rdquo; urged the impatient Caleb. &ldquo;What do you
+      say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Miss Parker still shook her head. &ldquo;It ain't any use, Caleb,&rdquo; she
+      declared. &ldquo;Even if&mdash;if I wanted to, how could I tell Kenelm? He'd
+      raise an awful fuss. He'd tell everybody and they&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he wouldn't. I'd break his neck if he did. . . . And&mdash;eh&mdash;&rdquo;
+       as another idea came to him, &ldquo;he needn't know till 'twas all over. We
+      could get married right off now, and not tell a soul&mdash;Kenelm or
+      anybody else&mdash;till it was done. Then they could talk or shut up, we
+      wouldn't care. They couldn't change nothin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everybody'd see us drivin' together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What of it? They see us drivin' to the Cattle Show together, didn't
+      they?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and they've talked about it ever since, some of 'em. That Abbie
+      Larkin said&mdash;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&mdash;I'd
+      be so&mdash;so mortified and&mdash;and&mdash;why, I'd act like a reg'lar&mdash;er&mdash;er&mdash;domicile
+      that had run away from the Idiots' Home. No, no, no! I couldn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hammond thought it over. Then he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;or not here,
+      maybe, but down in the hollow back of your henhouse. You must be there and
+      we'll drive over to Trumet&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but what will I tell Kenelm?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Caleb was, as has been said, &ldquo;sot&rdquo; in his ways. He was &ldquo;sot&rdquo; 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&mdash;now? He was conscious of
+      an uneasy feeling that, perhaps, he had made a fool of himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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
+      &ldquo;Cap'n Abner,&rdquo; which now stood under the open shed at the rear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;midnight's solemn
+      hour&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then he was hailed. From a window above, at the extreme end of the
+      kitchen, came a trembling whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Caleb! Caleb Hammond, is that you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my soul and body! Where HAVE you been? I've been waitin' and
+      waitin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What in time did you wait up there for? Why don't you come down?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't. Kenelm's locked the doors, and the keys are right next to his
+      room door. I can't get down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here was an unexpected obstacle. Caleb was nonplused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go home!&rdquo; wailed the voice from above. &ldquo;Don't stand there. Go HOME! Can't
+      you SEE it ain't any use? Go HOME!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shan't go home neither,&rdquo; he whispered, fiercely. &ldquo;If you can't come
+      down I'll&mdash;I'll come up and get you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shh&mdash;shh! He'll hear you. Kenelm'll hear you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, there's a ladder there, but&mdash;where are you goin'? Mr. Hammond&mdash;Caleb&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;Oh, good Lord!&rdquo; and &ldquo;Heavens and earth! What shall I
+      do?&rdquo; reached the ground safe and more or less sound. They left the ladder
+      where it was, and tiptoed fearfully out to the lane.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whew!&rdquo; panted the exhausted swain, mopping his brow. &ldquo;I'm clean tuckered
+      out. I ain't done so much work for ten years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't say a word, Caleb Hammond. If I ain't got my death of&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As Caleb was helping the lady of his choice into the carryall he noticed
+      that she carried a small hand-bag.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What you got that thing for?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;where have
+      you put the horse?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;at the back and
+      both sides&mdash;should be closely buttoned down, as she was fearful of
+      the effects of the night air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fresh air never hurts nobody,&rdquo; said Caleb. &ldquo;There ain't nothin' so good
+      for a body as fresh air. I sleep with my window open wide winter and
+      summer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We'll keep chickens,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say you'll get up at five o'clock and kindle the fire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;ME get up and kindle it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sartin; you don't expect I'm goin' to, do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pie? For breakfast?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well now, Caleb, if you think I'm goin' to get up and warm up pie every
+      mornin', let alone fryin' potatoes, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, maybe you're right. But I must say&mdash;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&mdash;what are you stoppin' for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There seems to be a kind of crossroads here,&rdquo; said Caleb, bending forward
+      and peering out of the carryall. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah peered forth from the blackness of the back seat. &ldquo;Now, let me
+      think,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;Solon Higgins' son 'twas. No, 'twa'n't his son,
+      because&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aw, crimus! Who cares if 'twas his aunt's gran'mother? What I want to
+      know is which road to take.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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'&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Caleb,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;what time had we ought to get to Bayport?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;METHODIST minister! You ain't goin' to a Methodist minister to be
+      married?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I shan't be married by no Baptist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No Methodist shall marry ME.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, look here, Hannah&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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,&rdquo; desperately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Caleb choked down his own irritation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, Hannah,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cheaper? What do you mean? Was you cal'latin' to make a BARGAIN with
+      him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, course not. But there ain't any sense in heavin' money away on a
+      parson more'n on anybody else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Caleb Hammond, how much do you intend givin' that minister?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hammond stirred uneasily on the seat of the carryall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I don't know,&rdquo; he answered evasively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you do know, too. How much?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. Two or three dollars, maybe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, let up! I don't care. I'll&mdash;I'll&mdash;&rdquo; after a desperate
+      wrestle with his sense of economy. &ldquo;I'll give him whatever you say&mdash;in
+      reason. Eh! . . . What's that foolhead horse stoppin' for now? What in the
+      tunket's the matter with him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's a nice mess,&rdquo; he grumbled, taking off his coat to examine the tear
+      by the light of the lantern. &ldquo;Nice-lookin' rag-bag I'll be to get
+      married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe I can mend it when we get to Bayport,&rdquo; said Miss Parker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What'll you mend it with&mdash;pins?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, there's a needle and thread in my reticule. Wait till we get to
+      Bayport and then&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid I haven't made a good job of it,&rdquo; sighed Hannah, gazing
+      sorrowfully at the puckered and wrinkled star in the back of the garment.
+      &ldquo;If you'd only held that lantern steady, instead of jigglin' it round and
+      round so, I might have done better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Land of love, Caleb!&rdquo; she gasped. &ldquo;Where ARE you goin'! It doesn't seem
+      as if this could be the right road!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, heavens! What a jounce that was! Seems to me you're awful reckless. I
+      wish Kenelm was drivin'; he's always so careful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was too much. Mr. Hammond suppressed his feelings no longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to thunder he was!&rdquo; he roared. &ldquo;I wish Kenelm or some other dam'
+      fool was here instead of me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Caleb HAMMOND!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;if we row like this afore we're married what'll it be
+      afterwards? Talk about bein' independent! Git dap there!&rdquo; this a savage
+      roar at George Washington, who had stopped again. &ldquo;I do believe the
+      idiot's struck with a palsy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah leaned forward and touched her fellow-sufferer on the arm. &ldquo;Sshh,
+      shh, Caleb!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Don't holler so. I don't blame you for hollerin'
+      and&mdash;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&mdash;I know I
+      was&mdash;and then you come along and we talked and&mdash;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&mdash;now I'm goin' to say it: You
+      turn that horse's head around and start right home again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hammond shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I say yes. I don't want to marry you and I don't believe you want to
+      marry me. Now do you&mdash;honest?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Caleb was silent for a full minute. Then he drew a deep breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It don't make no difference whether I do or not, fur's I can see,&rdquo; he
+      said, gloomily. &ldquo;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&mdash;seems eight
+      or ten year to me&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, Hannah,&rdquo; he observed, &ldquo;I suppose you left that note for Kenelm,
+      didn't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker uttered a faint shriek.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my soul!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tut, tut! Huh! Well, he may find it there; let's hope he does.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;don't
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh! Oh! Oh!&rdquo; wailed Miss Parker, and burst into tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Caleb groaned. &ldquo;Git dap!&rdquo; he shouted to the horse. &ldquo;No use cryin', Hannah.
+      Might's well grin and bear it. The joyful bridal party'll now proceed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Queer,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A church,&rdquo; said Caleb. &ldquo;One of the Bayport churches, I cal'late. Wonder
+      which 'tis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's always a sign on the front of a church,&rdquo; said Hannah. &ldquo;Let's go
+      around front and see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There were no trees in front of the church, and when they came out by the
+      front platform, Miss Parker exclaimed, &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hammond was standing on the platform, holding his lantern up before a
+      gilt-lettered placard by the church door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hannah,&rdquo; he gurgled, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah clambered up beside her agitated companion, and read from the
+      placard these words:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+               FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH
+
+          REV. JONATHAN LANGWORTHY, PASTOR
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good land!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Mr. Langworthy! Why, Mr. Langworthy is the
+      minister at Wellmouth Centre, ain't he? I thought he was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is, but perhaps there's another one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, there ain't&mdash;not another Baptist. And&mdash;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'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; she demanded. &ldquo;What IS it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He did not answer, but merely pointed to the gate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? What&mdash;why&mdash;why, Caleb, that's&mdash;ain't that the
+      Nickerson memorial gate? . . . It can't be! But&mdash;but it IS! Why&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hammond was muttering to himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We took the wrong road at the crossin',&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Lemuel Ellis' wood-lot? Why, Lemuel's wood-lot is at&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Caleb HAMMOND!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WHAT!&rdquo; exclaimed Caleb. &ldquo;Only four o'clock! It can't be!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My soul!&rdquo; cried Miss Parker, &ldquo;only four! Why&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Mr. Hammond seized her arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hannah,&rdquo; he cried, excitedly, &ldquo;do you understand what that means&mdash;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Miss Parker had not waited for him to finish; she was already on her
+      way to the carryall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At a quarter after seven that morning Thankful knocked at the door of her
+      boarder's room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Hammond!&rdquo; she called. &ldquo;Mr. Hammond!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Caleb awoke with a start.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you up? It's most breakfast time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Caleb, now more thoroughly awake, looked about his room. It was real; he
+      was actually in it&mdash;and safe&mdash;and still single.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;yes; all right,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I'll get right up. Must have
+      overslept myself, I guess. What&mdash;what made you call me? Nothin'&mdash;er&mdash;nothin's
+      happened, has it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no; I ain't sick. I'm feelin' fine. Has&mdash;has Kenelm Parker got
+      here yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he's here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't&mdash;ain't said nothin', has he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Said anything? No. What do you mean? What did you expect him to say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin', nothin', I&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He jumped out of bed. He was tired and lame and his head ached&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful knocked at his door again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm sorry,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but Melindy Pease hasn't sent home your mendin'
+      yet. I'm afraid you'll have to do without your&mdash;er&mdash;your winter
+      things for one more day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey? My winter&mdash;Oh, yes, yes. Well, I don't care. It's warmer today
+      than 'twas yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no, it isn't; it's a good deal colder. I hope you won't catch cold.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, I shan't. I'm feelin' fine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, thank goodness for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank goodness for a good many things,&rdquo; said Mr. Hammond, devoutly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;nagging.&rdquo; She had done comparatively
+      little of the latter since the announcement of the &ldquo;engagement,&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Timpson's sudden departure from the High Cliff House caused less talk
+      than Thankful had feared. It happened that the &ldquo;cousin Sarah&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;warning&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;Cap'n Abner place&rdquo; 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
+      &ldquo;hog-killing time&rdquo; 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&mdash;the latter's fondness for his &ldquo;second
+      mate&rdquo; stronger than ever&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;but have you?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful had not been troubled in the &ldquo;other affair.&rdquo; 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. &ldquo;It is one thing to boast,&rdquo; said Mr. Daniels, &ldquo;and another to make
+      good. My&mdash;ahem&mdash;er&mdash;professional rival is beginning to
+      realize, I think, that he has in this case bitten off more than he can&mdash;er&mdash;so
+      to speak, chew. That young man has succeeded in ruining himself in this
+      community and that is all he has succeeded in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;and a not too clean pocket&mdash;for many days. Then she
+      noticed the postmark&mdash;&ldquo;Omaha.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was sitting thus when the door of the dining-room opened and a voice
+      hailed: &ldquo;Ahoy there! Anybody on deck?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned to see Captain Obed Bangs' cheery face peering in at her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello!&rdquo; cried the captain, entering the room and tossing his cap on the
+      table. &ldquo;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&mdash;Hey? Why&mdash;why,
+      what's the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful's face was still pale and she was trembling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin', nothin', Cap'n Bangs,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I've had a&mdash;a surprise,
+      that's all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A surprise! Yes, you look as if you had.&rdquo; Then, noticing the letter in
+      her lap, he added. &ldquo;You ain't had bad news, have you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. No, not exactly. It's good news. Yes, in a way it's good news, but&mdash;but
+      I didn't expect it and&mdash;and it has shook me up a good deal. . . . And&mdash;and
+      I don't know what to do. Oh, I don't know WHAT I'd ought to do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I'd like to help you, Thank&mdash;er&mdash;Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; he
+      faltered, earnestly. &ldquo;I like to fust-rate, if&mdash;if I could. Ain't
+      there&mdash;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&mdash;Look
+      here, 'tain't nothin' to do with that cussed Holliday Kendrick or his
+      meanness, is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful shook her head. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it isn't that. I've been
+      expectin' that and I'd have been ready for anything he might do&mdash;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&mdash;and now he's alive, and he wants&mdash;What SHALL I do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed took a step forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; he begged, &ldquo;I wish you would&mdash;that is, you know
+      if you feel like it I&mdash;well, here I am. Can't I do SOMETHIN'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cap'n Bangs,&rdquo; she said, suddenly, &ldquo;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&mdash;and I haven't got any money just now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have,&rdquo; promptly. &ldquo;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&mdash;why, that's
+      nothin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful heard little, apparently, of this prodigal offer. She took up the
+      letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cap'n Bangs,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;you remember I told you, one time when we were
+      talkin' together, that I had a brother&mdash;Jedediah, his name was&mdash;who
+      used to live with me after my husband was drowned?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I remember. You said he'd run off to go gold-diggin' in the Klondike
+      or somewheres. You said he was dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;loaded down with money,&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed finished the letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whew!&rdquo; he whistled. &ldquo;He's in hard luck, ain't he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful wrung her hands. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sartin you must. We&mdash;er&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the first time Thankful's troubles overcame her courage and
+      self-restraint. She put her handkerchief to her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful's face was still buried in her handkerchief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo; continued Captain Obed. &ldquo;Now, now, don't do that. Don't
+      DO it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Barnes wiped her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won't,&rdquo; she said, stoutly. &ldquo;I won't. I know I'm silly and childish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ain't neither. You're the pluckiest and best woman ever was. You're
+      the finest&mdash;er&mdash;er&mdash;Oh, consarn it, Thankful, don't cry any
+      more. Can't you,&rdquo; desperately, &ldquo;can't you see I can't stand it to have
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give it up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, yes, I know what you mean. But what I mean is&mdash;is&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean&mdash;I mean why don't you let somebody take care of you? That's
+      what I mean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful turned to stare at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Somebody&mdash;else&mdash;take care of me?&rdquo; she repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;yes. Don't look at me like that. If you do I can't say it. I'm&mdash;I'm
+      havin' a&mdash;a hard enough time sayin' it as 'tis. Thankful Barnes, why&mdash;don't
+      LOOK at me, I tell you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But she still looked at him, and, if a look ever conveyed a meaning, hers
+      did just then.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't crazy,&rdquo; declared Captain Obed. &ldquo;I can see you think I am, but I
+      ain't. Thankful, I&mdash;Oh, thunderation! What is the matter with me?
+      Thankful, let ME take care of you, will you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful rose to her feet. &ldquo;Obed Bangs!&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was speechless. The captain plunged desperately on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you, Thankful?&rdquo; he begged. &ldquo;I know I'm an old codger, but I ain't in
+      my second childhood, not yet. I&mdash;I'd try mighty hard to make you
+      happy. I haven't got anybody of my own in the world. Neither have you&mdash;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&mdash;and him&mdash;and me afloat and
+      comf'table. Thankful, will you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was still looking at him. He would have spoken again, but she
+      raised her hand and motioned him to silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Obed,&rdquo; she asked, after a moment, &ldquo;what made you say this to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She raised her hand again. &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; she said, slowly. &ldquo;I see. Thank you,
+      Obed. You're so kind and self-sacrificin' you'd do anything or say
+      anything to help a&mdash;friend, wouldn't you? But of course you can't do
+      this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't? Why can't I? Self-sacrifice be hanged! Thankful, can't you see&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Oh yes. I can see. . . . Now let's talk about Jedediah. Do you think&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jedediah be keelhauled! Will you marry me, Thankful Barnes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why no, Obed; of course I won't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You won't? Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because&mdash;well, because I&mdash;I can't. There, there, Obed! Please
+      don't ask me again. Please don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PLEASE, Obed,&rdquo; she begged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain slowly shook his head. Then he laughed a short, mirthless
+      laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What an old fool I am!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;What an old fool!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Obed, don't talk so! Don't! Do you want to make this&mdash;everything&mdash;harder
+      for me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He straightened and squared his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, Thankful,&rdquo; he said, earnestly. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Obed, I'm so sorry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;Jedediah&mdash;is there yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Obed, you won't&mdash;you won't feel hard towards me? You won't let&mdash;this&mdash;interfere
+      with our friendship?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no; of course I shan't let&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He snatched up his cap and was on his way to the door. She followed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Obed,&rdquo; she faltered, &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;What CAN I say to you? You are SO
+      good!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;Cap'n Abner place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did he mean it, do you think?&rdquo; he demanded. &ldquo;Is he really so sot on
+      buyin' as folks say he is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Huh! And he's hired his lawyer&mdash;that young cousin of his&mdash;Bailey
+      Kendrick's son&mdash;to make you sell out to him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the young feller done about it; anything?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No; nothin' that I know of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I didn't know he had. How did you know it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you won't! Pretty independent for anybody with a mortgage hangin'
+      over 'em, ain't ye?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon, are you goin' to renew that mortgage when it comes due?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cobb pulled his whiskers. &ldquo;I don't know's I am and I don't know's I
+      ain't,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You wouldn't do it! You couldn't be so&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he ain't goin' to put me out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He says he is. Now&mdash;now&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a good deal more of this sort of thing, but it was all quite as
+      unsatisfactory. Thankful gave it up at last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shan't come here again,&rdquo; she declared desperately. &ldquo;If you want to see
+      me you can come to my place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was on her way to the door, but Solomon called after her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Hold on! What do you mean by that? Why shouldn't I go
+      into that house if I want to? Why shouldn't I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, maybe, if someone that's dead and gone was here&mdash;he could.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He&mdash;he&mdash;who? What? Hi! Where you goin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm goin' home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you ain't&mdash;not until you tell me what you mean by&mdash;by
+      somebody that's dead and gone. What kind of talk is that? What do you
+      mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She went out of the &ldquo;henhouse.&rdquo; As she drove away she saw Mr. Cobb peering
+      at her through the window. He was &ldquo;weeding&rdquo; with both hands and he looked
+      agitated and&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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. &ldquo;Christmas loses three-quarters of its fun when
+      old Santa's took out of it,&rdquo; declared Captain Obed. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      So he and Imogene and Thankful&mdash;yes, even Kenelm&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why won't he bring it, Auntie?&rdquo; demanded Georgie. &ldquo;You say he brings
+      good boys what they want. I've been a good boy, ain't I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Deed you have. I wouldn't ask for a better one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then why won't Santa bring me the gun?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps he'll think a gun isn't nice for such a little boy to have.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh no, he isn't mean. Just think how good he is! He comes to every boy
+      and girl&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why yes, he does. To every good little boy and girl.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hum! Perhaps Patsy wasn't good.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This crushing proof of young Leary's goodness was a staggerer for
+      Thankful. Before she could think of a reply Georgie asked another
+      question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You say he'll come down the chimney?&rdquo; he queried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The livin'-room chimney?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, probably.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he won't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Georgie!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can he? He's so fat; he's ever so fat in the pictures. How can he get
+      through the stovepipe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Christmas was to be, as Thanksgiving had been, a day free from boarders at
+      the High Cliff House. Caleb was again &ldquo;asked out,&rdquo; and Mr. Daniels, so he
+      said, &ldquo;called away.&rdquo; He had spent little time in East Wellmouth of late,
+      though no one seemed to know exactly where he had been or why.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's that second mate of mine?&rdquo; whispered the captain, anxiously. When
+      told that Georgie was in the kitchen with Imogene he sighed in relief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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&mdash;quick.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily hurried upstairs with the packages. Captain Obed turned to Thankful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How is she these days?&rdquo; he asked, with a jerk of the head in the
+      direction taken by Miss Howes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's pretty well, or she says she is. I ain't so sure myself. I'm afraid
+      she thinks about&mdash;about HIM more than she makes believe. I'm afraid
+      matters between them two had gone farther'n we guessed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed nodded. &ldquo;Shouldn't wonder,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;John looks pretty
+      peaked, too. I saw him just now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You did? John Kendrick? He's been out of town for a week or two, so I
+      heard. Where did you see him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At the Centre depot. I was up to the Centre&mdash;er&mdash;buyin' a few
+      things and he got off the noon train.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you speak to him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, or he spoke to me. He and I ain't said much to each other&mdash;what
+      little we've seen of each other lately&mdash;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,&rdquo; after a moment's hesitation, &ldquo;there's another thing I
+      want to ask you. How's Heman Daniels actin' since Emily come? Seems more'n
+      extry happy, does he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why, no. He's been away, too, a good deal; on business, he
+      said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! He and&mdash;er&mdash;Emily haven't been extra thick, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Come to think of it they've hardly seen each other. Emily has acted
+      sort of&mdash;sort of queer about him, too. She didn't seem to want to
+      talk about him more'n she has about John.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The depot-master? Eben Foster, you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yup. He sung out, 'Congratulations, Heman,' says he.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'What you congratulatin' him for?' says I.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Ain't you heard?' says he. 'He's engaged to be married'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful uttered an exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Engaged!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;Mr. Daniels engaged&mdash;to be married?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;Well, you see, I thought&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful knew what he had thought. She also was &ldquo;shaken up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't believe it,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;If&mdash;if&mdash;it can't he HER. Why,
+      she would have told me, I'm sure. Obed, you don't think&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was greatly troubled. &ldquo;I HOPE it ain't true,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;I
+      suppose he's all right, but&mdash;but I didn't want Emily to marry him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Cause he as much as told me so. 'Is it true?' says he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'I don't know,' says I. 'First I'd heard of it, if 'tis.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Do what?' I asked him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Not so busy it'll wreck my nerves keepin' up with my dates,' says I.
+      'Why?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Can you spare a half-hour or so to come 'round to my office at&mdash;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?'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Sartin,' I told him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Of course, if you're afraid of the moral leprosy&mdash;'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'I ain't.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. I don't know. But I can't think Emily&mdash;Hush! she's
+      comin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily entered the room and Captain Obed began philosophically concerning
+      the storm, which he declared was &ldquo;liable to be a hooter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He went away soon after. At the door, when he and Mrs. Barnes were alone,
+      he whispered, &ldquo;Ain't changed your mind, have you, Thankful? About&mdash;about
+      what I said to you that day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Obed, please! You said you wouldn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'll be soaked, soppin' wet, won't he?&rdquo; he asked anxiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he won't mind. Santa Claus don't mind this kind of weather. He lives
+      up at the North Pole, so folks say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Won't the chimney soot all stick to him when he's wet? He'll be a
+      sight, won't he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps so, but he won't mind that, either. Now, you go to bed, Georgie,
+      like a good boy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm a-goin'. Say, Aunt Thankful, will the soot come all off on my
+      presents?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy! What a night!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;It reminds me of our first night in
+      this house, Auntie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;what's
+      that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? What, Auntie? I didn't hear anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought I did. Sounded as if somebody was&mdash;and they are! Listen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily listened. From without, above the noise of the wind and rain and
+      surf, came a shout.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hi!&rdquo; screamed a high-pitched voice. &ldquo;Hi! Let me in. I&mdash;I'm
+      drownin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful rushed to the door and, exerting all her strength, pushed it open
+      against the raging storm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's nobody here,&rdquo; she faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but there is, Auntie. I heard someone. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily shrieked. Mrs. Barnes pulled the door shut and ran to the prostrate
+      figure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is it?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Who IS it? Are you hurt?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The figure raised its head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hurt!&rdquo; it panted. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For mercy sakes!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Solomon Cobb! WHAT are you doin' over here
+      a night like this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cobb slowly raised his head. He looked about him in a bewildered way,
+      and then his gaze fixed itself upon Mrs. Barnes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&mdash;why&mdash;YOU!&rdquo; he gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; stammered Thankful, whose surprise and bewilderment were almost as
+      great as his. &ldquo;Eh? What?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You?&rdquo; repeated Solomon. &ldquo;What&mdash;what are you doin' here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What am I doin' here? What am I doin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; Then, after another stare about the room, he added: &ldquo;This ain't
+      Kenelm Parker's house? Whose house is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's my house, of course. Emily, go and fetch some&mdash;some water or
+      somethin'. He's out of his head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily hurried to the kitchen, Thankful hastened to help the unexpected
+      visitor to his feet. But the visitor declined to be helped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me alone,&rdquo; he roared. &ldquo;Let me be. I&mdash;I want to know whose house
+      this is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly Mr. Cobb rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean to tell me,&rdquo; he demanded, &ldquo;that this is&mdash;is Abner's
+      place? How'd I get here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She moved toward him again, but he waved her away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me alone!&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;I was headin' for Kenelm Parker's. How'd I
+      get here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush up! Let me think. I never see such a woman to talk. I&mdash;I don't
+      see how I done it. I left Chris Badger's and came across the fields and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was interrupted by Emily, who entered with a glass in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's the water, Auntie,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Is he better now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better?&rdquo; snorted Solomon. &ldquo;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&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful answered, and her answer was decisive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do I get to Parker's?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tell you you mustn't go to Parker's or anywhere else. You're riskin'
+      your life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I can't do it!&rdquo; he groaned. &ldquo;I've GOT to stay here! I've GOT to!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful, exerting all her strength, closed the door and locked it.
+      &ldquo;Indeed you've got to,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;Now go out into the kitchen and set
+      by the stove while I heat a kettle and make you some ginger tea or
+      somethin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Solomon hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He must, Aunt Thankful,&rdquo; urged Emily; &ldquo;he really must.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The visitor turned to stare at her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; he demanded, ungraciously. Then, as another chill racked
+      him from head to foot, he added: &ldquo;I don't care. Take me somewheres and
+      give me somethin'&mdash;ginger tea or&mdash;or kerosene or anything else,
+      so it's hot. I&mdash;I'm&mdash;sho&mdash;oo&mdash;ook all to&mdash;pi&mdash;ic&mdash;ces.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;heard tell&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At length he asked what time it was. Thankful told him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think you'd better be gettin' to bed, Solomon,&rdquo; she suggested. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Solomon grunted, but he was, apparently, willing to retire. Then came the
+      question as to where he should sleep. Emily offered a suggestion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't you put him in the back room, Auntie,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;The one Miss
+      Timpson used to have. That isn't occupied now and the bed is ready.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful hesitated. &ldquo;I don't know's he'd better have that room, Emily,&rdquo;
+       she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not? I'm sure it's a very nice room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know it is, but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cobb had a remark to make.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, come on, come on,&rdquo; he said, testily. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;warning.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This'll do first rate,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's this door locked for?&rdquo; asked Mr. Cobb, who had walked over and was
+      trying the knob.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, nothing; it's just another empty room, that's all. There's nothin' in
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Is that so? What do you lock up a room with nothin' in it for?&rdquo; He
+      turned the key and flung the door open. &ldquo;Ugh!&rdquo; he grunted, in evident
+      disappointment. &ldquo;'Tis empty, ain't it? Well, good night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily, whose face expressed a decided opinion concerning the visitor,
+      walked out into the hall. Thankful remained.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon,&rdquo; she said, in a whisper, &ldquo;tell me. Have you made up your mind
+      about that mortgage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Solomon, you don't mean&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is? Mr. Holliday Kendrick? How do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why should he come? And on Christmas day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you won't tell me about that mortgage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. I'll tell you when my mind's made up; that ain't yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful turned to go. At the threshold she spoke once more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder what you say in those prayers of yours, Solomon,&rdquo; she observed.
+      &ldquo;I should imagine the Lord might find 'em interestin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm glad I said it, Emily,&rdquo; she told her cousin, who was awaiting her in
+      her bedroom. &ldquo;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'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The little rascal,&rdquo; chuckled Thankful. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; with a sigh, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't mean to tell you, Emily,&rdquo; she said, tearfully. &ldquo;I didn't mean to
+      tell a soul, but I&mdash;I just couldn't keep it to myself any longer. If
+      he doesn't renew that mortgage&mdash;and goodness knows what he'll do
+      after he talks with Mr. Holliday Kendrick&mdash;I&mdash;I don't see how I
+      can help losin' everything. It's either that or sell out, and I don't want
+      to sell&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily was very much excited and fiercely indignant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The beast!&rdquo; she cried, referring to the pious occupant of the back
+      bedroom; &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful smiled ruefully. &ldquo;As to that, Emily,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A ghost? What are you talking about, Auntie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? Oh, nothin', nothin'. Did I say 'ghost'? I didn't realize what I
+      said, I guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then why did you say it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aunt Thankful, you're hiding something from me. I know you are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Emily, you know I wouldn't&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't mean anything. There ain't any ghost in that room&mdash;the one
+      Solomon's in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In THAT room? Is there one in another room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Emily&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Emily, it's all such perfect foolishness. You don't believe in
+      ghosts, do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course I don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neither do I. Whatever it is that snores and groans in that little back
+      room ain't&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;AUNTIE! What DO you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;Cap'n Abner place,&rdquo; and of Miss
+      Timpson's &ldquo;warning.&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nonsense!&rdquo; she said, stoutly. &ldquo;A ghost that snores? Who ever heard of
+      such a thing?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nobody ever did, I guess,&rdquo; Thankful admitted. &ldquo;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&mdash;it&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, stop, Auntie! You will have ME believing in&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night, Aunt Thankful. Don't worry about the&mdash;ha! ha!&mdash;ghost,
+      will you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I've got enough to worry about this side of the grave. . . . Mercy!
+      what's the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing! I&mdash;I thought I heard a noise in&mdash;in the hall. I didn't
+      though.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, course you didn't. Shall I go to your room with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No indeed! I&mdash;I should be ashamed to have you. Where is Imogene?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's up in her room. She went to bed early. Goodness! Hear that wind. It
+      cries like&mdash;like somethin' human.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good night, Emily. Is Georgie asleep at last?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think so. I haven't heard a sound from him. Call me early, Auntie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was awakened by a hand upon her arm and a voice whispering in her ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie!&rdquo; whispered Emily. &ldquo;Auntie, wake up! Oh, DO wake up!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it, Emily?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush, hush! Don't speak so loud. Get up! Get up and light the lamp.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What IS it?&rdquo; whispered Thankful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush! I don't know what it is. Listen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful listened. All she heard were the noises of the storm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't hear anything,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;no, you can't hear it from here. Come out into the hall.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen&mdash;!&rdquo; she breathed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful listened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;there's somebody down in the livin'-room!
+      Who is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. There are more than one, for I heard them talking. Who CAN
+      it be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful listened again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's Georgie?&rdquo; she whispered, after a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In his room, I suppose. . . . What? You don't think&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;grown-ups&rdquo; to
+      retire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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
+      &ldquo;airtight&rdquo; stove showed red behind the isinglass panes, and the room was
+      warm and comfortable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;if
+      he came at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;well then, his only care must be not to
+      be caught watching.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;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&mdash;to . . .
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was Santa&mdash;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&mdash;and Georgie's doubts were so far
+      justified&mdash;he had NOT come down the living-room chimney.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;a
+      ring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who&mdash;who be YOU?&rdquo; he demanded in a frightened whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Georgie was white and frightened also, but he manfully crept out from
+      beneath the sofa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who be you?&rdquo; repeated Santa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I'm Georgie,&rdquo; stammered the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Georgie! Georgie who?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Georgie Hobbs. The&mdash;the boy that lives here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lives&mdash;lives HERE?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; It seemed strange that the person reputed to know all the children
+      in the world did not recognize him at sight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Apparently he did not, however, for after an instant of silent and shaky
+      inspection he said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean to say you live here&mdash;in this house? Who do you live with?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Barnes, her that owns the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Santa gasped audibly. &ldquo;You&mdash;you live with HER?&rdquo; he demanded. &ldquo;Good
+      Lord! She&mdash;she ain't married again, is she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Married! No&mdash;no, sir, she ain't married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then&mdash;then&mdash;See here, boy; what's your name&mdash;your whole
+      name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;George Ellis Hobbs. I'm Mr. Hobbs's boy, up to South Middleboro, you
+      know. I'm down here stayin' with Aunt Thankful. She&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sshh! sshh! Don't talk so loud. So you're Mr. Hobbs's boy, eh? What&mdash;eh?
+      Oh, yes, yes. You're ma was&mdash;was Sarah Cahoon, wa'n't she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir. I&mdash;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&mdash;I thought I'd
+      hide and see if you did. Please&mdash;&rdquo; the tears rushed to Georgie's eyes
+      at the dreadful thought&mdash;&ldquo;please don't be cross and go away without
+      leaving me anything. I'll never do so again; honest, I won't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Santa seemed to have heard only the first part of this plea for
+      forgiveness. He put a hand to his forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They said I was comin'!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;They said&mdash;WHO said so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, everybody. Aunt Thankful and Emily and Imogene and Cap'n Bangs and
+      Mr. Parker and&mdash;all of 'em. They knew you was comin' tonight, but I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They knew it! Boy, are you crazy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Georgie shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir.&rdquo; 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, &ldquo;Please, sir, did you bring the air-gun?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hey?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Santa Claus picked at the button.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Say, boy,&rdquo; he asked, slowly. &ldquo;Who am I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Georgie was surprised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Santa Claus,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;You are Santa Claus, ain't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? San . . . Oh, yes, yes! I'm Santa Claus, that's who I be.&rdquo; He seemed
+      relieved, but still anxious. After fidgeting a moment he added, &ldquo;Well, I
+      cal'late I'll have to be goin' now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Georgie turned pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but where are the presents?&rdquo; he wailed. &ldquo;I&mdash;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Santa started. &ldquo;Sshh!&rdquo; he commanded in an agonized whisper. &ldquo;Hush up!
+      Somebody'll hear. . . . Eh? What's that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's here?&rdquo; she demanded firmly. &ldquo;Who lit this lamp? Georgie! Georgie
+      Hobbs, we know you're here somewhere, for we heard you. Show yourself this
+      instant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Silence&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Georgie Hobbs,&rdquo; she ordered, &ldquo;come out from under this sofa.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Georgie came, partly of his own volition, partly because of the persuasive
+      tug at his ankle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, then,&rdquo; ordered Thankful; &ldquo;what are you doin' down here? Answer me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Georgie did not answer. He marked a circle on the floor with his toe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you doin' down here?&rdquo; repeated Mrs. Barnes. &ldquo;Did you light that
+      lamp?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No'm,&rdquo; replied Georgie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course he didn't, Auntie,&rdquo; whispered Emily. &ldquo;There was someone here
+      with him. I heard them talking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who did light it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Georgie marked another circle. &ldquo;Santa Claus,&rdquo; he muttered faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful stared, first at the boy and then at her cousin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mercy on us!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;The child's gone crazy. Christmas has
+      struck to his head!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Emily's fears were not concerning her small brother's sanity. &ldquo;Hush,
+      Auntie,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Hush! He was talking to someone. We both heard
+      another voice. WHO did you say it was, Georgie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Santa Claus. Oh, Emmie, please don't be mad. I&mdash;I wanted to see him
+      so&mdash;and&mdash;and when he came I&mdash;I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, there, Georgie; don't cry, dear. We're not cross. You were talking
+      to someone you thought was Santa. Where is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He WAS Santa Claus. He SAID he was. He went away when you came&mdash;into
+      the dinin'-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The dining-room? . . . Auntie, WHAT are you doing? Don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If there's anybody here,&rdquo; she ordered, &ldquo;they'd better come out because. .
+      . . Here! I see you under that table. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped, gasped, and staggered back. Emily, running to her side, was
+      just in time to prevent the lamp falling to the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Auntie,&rdquo; cried the young lady. &ldquo;Auntie, what IS it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily stared at him. Mrs. Barnes uttered a groan. Santa Claus smiled
+      feebly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello, Thankful,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I&mdash;I cal'late you're surprised to see
+      me, ain't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful's lips moved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are&mdash;are you livin' or&mdash;or dead?&rdquo; she gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me&mdash;Oh, I'm alive, but that's about all. Hey? It's Emily, ain't it?
+      Why&mdash;why, Emily, don't you know me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Howes put the lamp down upon the table. Then she leaned heavily upon
+      a chair back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cousin Jedediah!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;It can't be&mdash;it&mdash;Auntie&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Thankful interrupted. She turned to Georgie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is&mdash;is THIS your Santa Claus?&rdquo; she faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes'm,&rdquo; answered Georgie.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jedediah Cahoon!&rdquo; cried Thankful. &ldquo;Jedediah Cahoon!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For Georgie's &ldquo;Santa Claus&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie!&rdquo; cried Emily again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful shook her head. &ldquo;Help me to a chair, Emily,&rdquo; she begged weakly.
+      &ldquo;This&mdash;this is&mdash;my soul and body! Jedediah come alive again!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The returned gold-hunter swallowed several times.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thankful,&rdquo; he faltered, &ldquo;I know you must feel pretty hard agin me, but&mdash;but,
+      you see&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush! hush! Don't speak to me for a minute. Let me get my bearin's, for
+      mercy sakes, if I can. . . . Jedediah&mdash;HERE!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;yes, I'm here. I am, honest. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sshh! You're here now, but&mdash;but where have you been all this time?
+      For a man that is, I presume likely, loaded down with money&mdash;I
+      presume you must be loaded down with it; you remember you'd said you'd
+      never come back until you was&mdash;for that kind of a man I must say you
+      look pretty down at the heel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thankful&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you worn out your clothes luggin' the money around?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie, don't. Look at him. Think!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did write.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jedediah interrupted. &ldquo;Sneakin' in!&rdquo; he repeated, with a desperate move of
+      his hands. &ldquo;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&mdash;I&mdash;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So's you'd dare come in! What did you want to come in for if I wa'n't
+      here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wanted to leave a note for you, that's why. I wanted to leave a note
+      and&mdash;and that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'I am goin' away',&rdquo; repeated Thankful. &ldquo;Goin' away? Are you goin' away
+      AGAIN?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I was cal'latin' to. I'm goin' cook on a whaler.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cook! You a cook! And,&rdquo; she took up the ring and stared at it, &ldquo;for the
+      land sakes, what's this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bought this&mdash;this thing for me,&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;And did you
+      think I'd wear it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't want to go to bed,&rdquo; he wailed. &ldquo;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&mdash;Oh&mdash;Oh!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He went out crying. Emily ran to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush, hush, Georgie, dear,&rdquo; she begged. &ldquo;Come upstairs with sister&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She led the disappointed and still sobbing boy from the room. Thankful
+      turned to her brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now you march out into that kitchen,&rdquo; she commanded. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jedediah stared at her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&mdash;what,&rdquo; he faltered. &ldquo;Do you mean&mdash;Thankful, do you mean
+      you're goin' to let me stay here for&mdash;for good?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thankful, I&mdash;I'll work my hands off for you. I'll&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then&mdash;then you're glad I came back?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad!&rdquo; Thankful shook her head with a tearful smile. &ldquo;Glad!&rdquo; she
+      repeated. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Another hour had passed before Mrs. Barnes reentered the living-room.
+      There, to her astonishment, she found Emily awaiting her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, for goodness sakes!&rdquo; cried Thankful. &ldquo;What are you doin' here? I
+      thought you'd gone to bed long ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily's reply was given in an odd tone. She did not look at her cousin
+      when she spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; she said, quickly. &ldquo;I&mdash;I haven't gone to bed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see you haven't, but why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't want to. I&mdash;I'm not sleepy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not sleepy! At two o'clock in the mornin'? Well,&rdquo; with a sigh, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;Emily,
+      what's the matter with you? What makes you act so queer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily did not answer. Mrs. Barnes walked across the room and, stooping,
+      peered into her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're white as a sheet!&rdquo; she cried, in alarm. &ldquo;And you're tremblin' all
+      over. What in the world IS the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily tried to smile, but it was a poor attempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, nothing, Auntie,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;That is, I&mdash;I'm sure it can't
+      be anything to be afraid of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you are afraid, just the same. What is it? Tell me this minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the first time Emily looked her cousin in the face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;I am&mdash;I have been frightened. Something I
+      heard upstairs frightened me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Somethin' you heard upstairs? Where? Has Georgie&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Georgie is asleep in his room. I locked the door. It wasn't Georgie;
+      it was something else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Somethin'&mdash;Emily Howes, do you want to scare me to DEATH? What IS
+      it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;he is in there talking&mdash;talking to
+      someone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He? Talkin'? Who?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Cobb. It was dreadful. He was talking to&mdash;to&mdash;I don't know
+      WHAT he was talking to, but it was awful to hear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Talkin'? Solomon Cobb was talkin'? In his sleep, do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he wasn't asleep. He was talking to someone, or some THING, in that
+      room. And that wasn't all. I heard&mdash;I heard&mdash;Oh, I DID hear it!
+      I know I did! And yet it couldn't be! It couldn't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emily Howes, if you keep on I'll&mdash;WHAT did you hear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. . . . Aunt Thankful, where are you going?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's sick,&rdquo; whispered Thankful. &ldquo;The man's sick. I'm goin' to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He isn't sick. It&mdash;it's something else. I tell you I heard&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, don't&mdash;don't, Abner!&rdquo; cried Mr. Cobb. &ldquo;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&mdash;Oh, there you GO again! QUIT! PLEASE quit!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily grasped her cousin's arm. &ldquo;Come, come away!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;I&mdash;I
+      believe I'm going to faint.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily was the first to speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I don't believe it!&rdquo; she declared, shakily. &ldquo;I KNOW it isn't
+      real!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So&mdash;so do I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but we heard it. We both heard it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;well, I give in I&mdash;I heard somethin', somethin' that. . .
+      . My soul! Am I goin' CRAZY to finish off this night with?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. If you are, then I must be going with you. What can it be,
+      Auntie?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no other door to that room, is there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then what CAN it be?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But we heard&mdash;we both heard&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know; I know. And I heard somethin' there before. And so did Miss
+      Timpson. Emily, did&mdash;did you hear him call&mdash;call it 'Abner'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; with a shudder. &ldquo;I heard. Who could help hearing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Cap'n Abner was my uncle; and he used to live here. . . . There!&rdquo;
+       with sudden determination. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To BED! After THAT? Auntie, how can you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;WAY up, Emily Howes! And talk&mdash;talk just as
+      hard as you can&mdash;about somethin' or somebody that's ALIVE.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the third of these excursions Mrs. Barnes returned with a bit of
+      reassuring news.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went almost there this time,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;My conscience has been
+      tormenting me to think of&mdash;of Solomon's bein' alone in there with&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you hear anything&mdash;anything else?&rdquo; whispered Emily, fearfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At five o'clock, while it was still pitch dark, Thankful announced her
+      intention of going downstairs. &ldquo;Might as well be in the kitchen as up
+      here,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily started. &ldquo;Why, it is Christmas, isn't it!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Between
+      returned brothers and,&rdquo; with a little shiver, &ldquo;ghosts, I forgot entirely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She kissed her cousin's cheek.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A merry Christmas, Aunt Thankful,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful returned the kiss. &ldquo;Same to you, dearie, and many of 'em,&rdquo; she
+      replied. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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',&rdquo; she added, peering out into the hall. &ldquo;Well, I suppose I
+      ought to pity Solomon, but I don't when I think how he's treated me. If
+      the ghost&mdash;or whatever 'tis in there&mdash;weeded out the rest of his
+      whiskers for him I don't know's I'd care. 'Twould serve him right, I
+      guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They rehung Georgie's stocking&mdash;bulging and knobby it was now&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't understand,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful nodded. &ldquo;I'll do it with you,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;in the daytime.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew it!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;I didn't believe 'twas so, and I as much as told
+      Cap'n Obed 'twasn't this very day&mdash;no, yesterday, I mean. When a body
+      don't go to bed at all the days kind of run into one another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you know?&rdquo; asked Emily. &ldquo;What were you and Captain Obed talking
+      of that concerned me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothin', nothin', dear. It didn't concern you one bit, and 'twasn't
+      important. . . . Hi hum!&rdquo; rising and looking out of the window. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her attempt at changing the subject was successful. Emily's next question
+      concerned Jedediah.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you goin' to do with him, Auntie?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;He must stay
+      here, mustn't he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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,&rdquo; with a sigh, &ldquo;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,&rdquo; she added hastily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jedediah might be useful to work about the place here,&rdquo; said Emily. &ldquo;You
+      will always need a hired man, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily smiled. &ldquo;I shouldn't worry about Imogene,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I think she
+      knows perfectly well what she is about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's that man,&rdquo; she asked; &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When told the story of Jedediah's return she was greatly excited.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, it's just like somethin' in a story!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Long-lost folks
+      are always comin' back in stories. And comin' Christmas Eve makes it all
+      the better. Lordy&mdash;There, I ain't said that for weeks and weeks!
+      Excuse me, Mrs. Thankful. I WON'T say it again. But&mdash;but what are we
+      goin' to do with him? Is he goin' to stay here for good?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful answered that she supposed he was, he had no other place to stay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he rich? He ought to be. Folks in stories always come home rich after
+      they've run off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, this one didn't. He missed connections, somehow. Rich! No,&rdquo; drily,
+      &ldquo;he ain't rich.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what will he do? Will we have to take care of him&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene reflected. &ldquo;Hum!&rdquo; she mused. &ldquo;We don't need two hired hands,
+      that's a sure thing. You mean he'll take Kenelm's job?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On my account?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, yes. You and he are engaged to be married and of course you like to
+      have him here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene burst out laughing. &ldquo;Don't you worry about that, Miss Emily,&rdquo; she
+      said. &ldquo;I shan't, and I don't think Kenelm will, either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Breakfast was ready at last and they were just sitting down to the table&mdash;it
+      had been decided not to call Jedediah or Mr. Cobb&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gee!&rdquo; he cried, as he sat in the middle of the heap of toys and brown
+      paper and looked about him. &ldquo;Gee! They're all here; everything I wanted&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful shook her head. &ldquo;You see, Georgie,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Georgie did not answer immediately. When he did it was in a rather
+      doubtful tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There ain't any soot on 'em, anyhow,&rdquo; he observed. &ldquo;And they ain't wet,
+      either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene clapped her hand to her mouth and hurried from the room. &ldquo;You
+      can't fool that kid much,&rdquo; she whispered to Emily afterward. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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, &ldquo;You could see his complexion without diggin' for it, and that
+      was somethin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;Uncle Jed&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the meal was over Jedediah made what was, for him, an amazing
+      suggestion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I cal'late I'd better be gettin' to work, hadn't I?
+      What'll I do first, Thankful?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Barnes stared at him. &ldquo;Work?&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean I want to be doin' somethin'&mdash;somethin' to help, you know. I
+      don't cal'late to stay around here and loaf. No, SIR!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful drew a long breath. &ldquo;All right, Jed,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You can go out
+      in the barn and feed the horse if you want to. Kenelm&mdash;Mr. Parker&mdash;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,&rdquo; she added, with
+      emphasis. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the eager applicant for employment had gone, under Imogene's
+      guidance, Emily spoke her mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;are you going to make him work&mdash;now; after what
+      he's been through, and on Christmas day, too?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was still staring after her brother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sshh! sshh!&rdquo; she commanded. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Auntie, he did ask. And do you think he is strong enough?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily said no more, but she noticed that her cousin was wearing the
+      two-dollar ring, the wanderer's &ldquo;farewell&rdquo; gift, so she judged that
+      brother Jed would not be worked beyond the bounds of moderation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Left alone in the dining-room&mdash;Georgie had returned to the
+      living-room and his presents&mdash;the two women looked at each other.
+      Neither had eaten a breakfast worth mentioning and the same thought was in
+      the mind of each.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Auntie,&rdquo; whispered Emily, voicing that thought, &ldquo;don't you think we ought
+      to go up and&mdash;and see if he is&mdash;all right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful nodded. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful spoke to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sick, Solomon?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cobb shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; he grunted. &ldquo;No, no, I ain't sick. I guess I ain't; I don't know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Breakfast is all ready, Mr. Cobb,&rdquo; suggested Emily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Solomon turned a weary eye in her direction. He looked old, very old.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Breakfast!&rdquo; he repeated feebly. &ldquo;Don't talk about breakfast to me! I'll
+      never eat again in this world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful pitied him; she could not help it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, you will,&rdquo; she said, heartily. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head. &ldquo;Thankful,&rdquo; he said, slowly, &ldquo;I&mdash;I want to talk to
+      you. I've got to talk to you&mdash;alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alone! Why, Emily's just the same as one of the family. There's no
+      secrets between us, Solomon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't care. I wan't to talk to you. It's you I've got to talk to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful would have protested once more, but Emily put a hand on her arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll go into the living-room with Georgie, Auntie,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Yes,
+      I shall.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thankful Cahoon,&rdquo; he said, calling her by her maiden name. &ldquo;I&mdash;I've
+      been a bad man. I'm goin' to hell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful jumped. &ldquo;Mercy on us!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;What kind of talk&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm goin' to hell,&rdquo; repeated Solomon. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful stood up. She was convinced that her visitor had been driven
+      crazy by his experience in the back bedroom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, now, now,&rdquo; she faltered. &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Cobb waved his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't make no difference,&rdquo; he moaned. &ldquo;Or, if it does, it only makes it
+      worse. I know where I'm goin', but&mdash;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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;LED here, I know now that I was&mdash;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He groaned and wiped his forehead. Thankful did not speak; her surprise
+      and curiosity were too great for speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Twas your Uncle Abner Barnes,&rdquo; went on Solomon, &ldquo;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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still Thankful said nothing. He groaned again and went on:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Last night,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh? What?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;and
+      I&mdash;I wouldn't be surprised if I died any minute. Hurry UP!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it, Auntie?&rdquo; she whispered, eagerly. &ldquo;Is it anything important?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her cousin made an excited gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I don't know,&rdquo; she whispered in reply. &ldquo;Either he's been driven
+      looney by what happened last night, or else&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's that pen and things?&rdquo; queried Solomon from the next room. &ldquo;Ain't
+      you ever comin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Somebody ought to witness this,&rdquo; he cried, nervously. &ldquo;Some disinterested
+      person ought to witness this. Then 'twill hold in law. Where's that&mdash;that
+      Howes girl? Oh, here you be! Here! you sign that as a witness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily, who had entered at the mention of her name, took the paper from his
+      trembling fingers. She read what was written upon it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why, Auntie!&rdquo; she cried, excitedly. &ldquo;Aunt Thankful, have you
+      seen this? He&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop your talk!&rdquo; shouted Solomon. &ldquo;Can't you women do nothin' BUT talk?
+      Sign your name alongside of mine as a witness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily took the pen and signed as directed. Mr. Cobb snatched the paper
+      from her, glanced at it and then handed it to Thankful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;That's done, anyhow. I've done so much. Now&mdash;now
+      don't say a word to me for a spell. I&mdash;I'm all in; that's what I am,
+      all in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dimly and uncomprehendingly she heard Emily trying to thank their visitor.
+      But thanks he would not listen to.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no, no!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Thankful was in a measure herself again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't talk so, Solomon,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;You have got somebody of your own
+      blood. I'm a relation of yours, even if 'tis a far-off relation. I&mdash;I
+      don't know how to thank you for this. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He interrupted again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he wailed, &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He won't listen to anything,&rdquo; said the young lady. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful sighed. &ldquo;It's so wonderful I can scarcely believe it,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;To think of his givin' up money&mdash;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,&rdquo; she added. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;that something, whatever it was, last night&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;and we heard?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm showin' him my 'Swiss Family Robinson,'&rdquo; said the boy. &ldquo;Here's where
+      they built a house in a tree, Mr. Cobb. Emmie told me about their doin'
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Solomon groaned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You better take this child away from me,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful had an inspiration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a sign,&rdquo; she cried, clapping her hands. &ldquo;It's a sign sent to you,
+      Solomon. It means you're forgiven. That's what it means. Now you eat your
+      breakfast.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was eating, or trying to eat, when someone knocked at the door. Winnie
+      S. Holt was standing on the step.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Merry Christmas, Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; he hailed. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The something was a long envelope with &ldquo;Mrs. Barnes, Personal,&rdquo; written
+      upon it. Thankful read the inscription.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From Mr. Kendrick?&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;Which Mr. Kendrick?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful slowly tore the end from the envelope. Emily stood at her elbow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What can it be, Auntie?&rdquo; she asked, fearfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;I&mdash;well, I must look, of
+      course. Oh, Emily, and we thought this was goin' to be a merry Christmas,
+      after all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The enclosure was a long, legal-looking document. Thankful unfolded it,
+      read a few lines and then stopped reading.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why&mdash;why&mdash;&rdquo; she stammered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it, Auntie?&rdquo; pleaded Emily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&mdash;I can't make out. I MUST be crazy, or&mdash;or somebody is. It
+      looks like&mdash;Read it, Emily; read it out loud.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker shook her head; she seemed to be in a pessimistic mood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm much obliged to you, Cap'n Bangs,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain didn't understand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Second fiddle,&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;What have you got to do with fiddlin', for
+      goodness' sakes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The quilt, you mean? That's what you wanted it to do, wasn't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She might have added, &ldquo;And Kenelm's, too,&rdquo; but Captain Obed added it for
+      her, in his mind. He laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's all right, Hannah,&rdquo; he observed, by way of consolation. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph! Don't be silly, Obed Bangs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;eh! look out!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean by that?&rdquo; she demanded sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I meant the plate. Little more and you'd have sent it to glory.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never you mind the plate. I can look out for my own crockery. 'Twas
+      cracked anyhow. And I guess you're cracked, too,&rdquo; she added. &ldquo;Talkin'
+      about my&mdash;my marryin' Caleb Hammond. What put that in your head?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know. I just&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, don't be silly. When I marry Caleb Hammond,&rdquo; she added with
+      emphasis, &ldquo;'twill be after THIS.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Parker turned pale. &ldquo;When we went&mdash;away&mdash;TOGETHER!&rdquo; she
+      faltered. &ldquo;WHAT are you talkin' about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When you went over to the Cattle Show that time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that what you meant?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah appeared more relieved than annoyed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Humph!&rdquo; she sniffed. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The minister had said &ldquo;unattached,&rdquo; but Captain Obed did not offer to
+      correct the quotation. He joked no more and, during breakfast, was silent
+      and absent-minded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;Cap'n Abner place&rdquo;
+       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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Goin' off to work Christmas Day!&rdquo; she said, as the captain entered. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm's answer was as surprising as it was emphatic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Darn the inmate!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;I wish to thunder I'd never seen her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed whistled. Miss Parker staggered, but she recovered promptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Hannah put her arms about his neck. &ldquo;There, there, Kenelm, dearie,&rdquo; she
+      said soothingly, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm grunted ungraciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Twas your fault, anyhow,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind, dearie. You ain't married yet. Perhaps you won't be. And,
+      anyhow, you know I'LL never boss you any more.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm looked at her. There was an odd expression in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bet you won't!&rdquo; he said, slowly. &ldquo;I'll see to that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Kenelm, what do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't mean nothin'&mdash;maybe. Give me some more coffee.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;engagement,&rdquo; the
+      announcement of which had been such a staggering finish to the &ldquo;big day&rdquo;
+       of the County Fair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Winnie S. came whistling up the path from the village.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hi, Cap'n Bangs!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;I was just goin' to stop at Hannah's to
+      tell you somethin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You was, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yup. Then I was goin' on to the High Cliff. I've got somethin' to take to
+      Mrs. Thankful. What do you suppose 'tis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He exhibited the long envelope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John Kendrick sent it to her,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John was seated at the desk in his office when the captain opened the
+      door. He bowed gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take off your hat and coat, Captain,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Sit down. I'm glad you
+      got my message and came early. I am expecting the other party at any
+      moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed was puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The other party?&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;What other party?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My&mdash;er&mdash;well, we'll call him my client. He is on his way here
+      and I may need you&mdash;as a witness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Witness? What to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Fifteen minutes later the rasping, arrogant &ldquo;honk&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;so it
+      seemed to the captain&mdash;he looked disturbed and puzzled and angry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain rose to his feet and said, &ldquo;Good morning,&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the meaning of that?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John was perfectly calm. &ldquo;Sit down, Mr. Kendrick,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I got it. Sit down. I have a good deal to say and it may take some
+      time. Throw off your coat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      E. Holliday threw the fur coat open, but he did not remove it. He jerked a
+      chair forward and seated himself upon it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now what does that thing mean?&rdquo; he demanded, pointing to the envelope he
+      had tossed on the desk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John picked up the envelope and opened it. A letter and a bank check fell
+      out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will explain,&rdquo; he said quietly. &ldquo;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,&rdquo; he went on, taking up the letter, &ldquo;is a note I wrote you, Mr.
+      Kendrick. It states that I am resigning my position as your attorney. And
+      this,&rdquo; picking up the other paper, &ldquo;is my check for five hundred dollars,
+      the amount of your retainer, which I am returning to you. . . . You
+      understand this so far, Captain?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      E. Holliday did not wait to hear whether the captain understood or not.
+      His big face flamed red.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what the devil?&rdquo; he demanded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John held up his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One moment, please,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was speaking to Captain Obed, and the captain answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it does belong to her,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;Her Uncle Abner Barnes willed
+      it to her. Course it belongs to her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;that she did not own it legally at all. I told my
+      client&mdash;Mr. Kendrick, here&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Holliday Kendrick struck the desk a thump with his fist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Good enough! I told 'em I generally got what I wanted!
+      Now I'll get it this time. Kendrick&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait,&rdquo; said John. &ldquo;Captain Obed, you understand me so far?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain's outraged feelings burst forth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand it's durn mean business!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;I'm ashamed of you,
+      John Kendrick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right! all right! The shame can wait. And I want YOU to wait, too&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed nodded. &ldquo;Course I know it,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Holliday Kendrick interrupted. &ldquo;Snow bought of me,&rdquo; he growled. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll explain. I am trying to explain. The peculiar point comes in just
+      here. You, Mr. Kendrick, never owned that land.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      E. Holliday bounced in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't own it!&rdquo; he roared. &ldquo;What nonsense are you talking? The land
+      belonged to my father, Samuel Kendrick, and I inherited it from him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you didn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tell you I did. He left everything he had to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;needing money badly, I presume&mdash;he
+      sold this strip of land. The purchaser thought it was worth nothing, no
+      doubt, and never mentioned owning it&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed uttered an exclamation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, John Kendrick!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Do you mean&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush, Captain! Mr. Kendrick,&rdquo; addressing the red-faced and furious
+      gentleman at his left, &ldquo;have I made myself clear so far? Do you follow
+      me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Follow you? I don't believe it! I&mdash;I&mdash;don't believe it! Who was
+      he? Who did my father sell that land to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Neither of his hearers spoke immediately. Then E. Holliday sprang to his
+      feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It belongs to you, does it!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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&mdash;or,
+      according to my way of thinking, I couldn't. As I saw it I did not own
+      that land&mdash;morally, at least. So, having resigned my employment with
+      you I&mdash;well, I gave the land to the person who, by all that is right
+      and&mdash;and HONEST, should own it. I had the deed made out in her name
+      and I sent it to her an hour ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed had guessed it. Now HE sprang from his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John Kendrick,&rdquo; he shouted, in huge delight, &ldquo;you gave that land to
+      Thankful Barnes. The deed was in that big envelope Winnie S. Holt was
+      takin' to her this very mornin'!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John's answer was calm, but emphatic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      East Wellmouth's wealthiest summer resident expressed an opinion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're a fool!&rdquo; he snarled. &ldquo;A d&mdash;d impractical fool!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door slammed behind him. John laughed quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As a judge of character, Captain Bangs,&rdquo; he observed, &ldquo;my respected
+      cousin should rank high.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I said it!&rdquo; he crowed. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how did you do it,&rdquo; he demanded. &ldquo;How did you get on the track of it?
+      You must have had some suspicions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John smiled. His friend's joy evidently pleased him, but he, himself, was
+      rather sober and not in the least triumphant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did have a suspicion, Captain,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but, John, why didn't you say so sooner? What made you let
+      everyone think&mdash;what they did think?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell me,&rdquo; she asked, sharply, &ldquo;what that means?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John rose. &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I will tell you, Mrs. Barnes. It is a rather
+      long story. Sit down, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful sank into the chair he indicated. He took up the envelope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will tell you, Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mrs. Barnes,&rdquo; he said, in conclusion, &ldquo;I'm a peculiar fellow, I'm afraid.
+      I have rather&mdash;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&mdash;as you know, I
+      hesitated before accepting my cousin's retaining fee and the implied
+      obligation. However, I did accept.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He might have given his reasons for accepting but he did not. He went on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When this matter of your property came up,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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&mdash;well, I didn't. Mr. Daniels' remarks irritated me and I&mdash;well,
+      he put the case as a test of legal skill between himself and me, and&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful put a hand to her forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you did&mdash;beat him, didn't you?&rdquo; she stammered. &ldquo;You found I
+      didn't own the land.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I found I owned it myself, legally. If I had found it belonged to
+      anyone else, I&mdash;well, I scarcely know what I should have done. You
+      see,&rdquo; with a half smile, &ldquo;I'm trying to be perfectly frank. Finding that I
+      was the owner made it easy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not understand. &ldquo;It made it easy,&rdquo; she repeated slowly. &ldquo;But you
+      gave it to ME!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He leaned forward. &ldquo;Please don't misunderstand me,&rdquo; he said earnestly. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed tried to put in a word. &ldquo;Don't you see, Thankful?&rdquo; he said.
+      &ldquo;John knew you thought you owned the land and so&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush! Please don't. I&mdash;I don't see. Mr. Kendrick, you&mdash;you have
+      prided yourself on bein' honest with your clients, and Mr. Holliday
+      Kendrick WAS your client.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John smiled. &ldquo;I compromised there,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;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&mdash;well, my honor, if you
+      like; although that sounds theatrical. I chose to be honest with myself&mdash;that's
+      all. The land is yours, Mrs. Barnes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You give it to me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;It was yours and you give it to me. Why
+      should you? Do&mdash;do you think I can TAKE it from you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, you must take it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I can't! I can't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly you can. Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why NOT? After the things I've thought about you? And after the way I've
+      treated you? And&mdash;and after Emily&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She didn't know either,&rdquo; broke in Captain Obed. &ldquo;She didn't understand.
+      She&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's enough, Captain,&rdquo; interrupted John. &ldquo;Mrs. Barnes, you mustn't
+      misunderstand me again. Neither you nor&mdash;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&mdash;I confess
+      I did hesitate a little. I feared&mdash;I feared she&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He means Emily,&rdquo; broke in the irrepressible captain. &ldquo;You mean Emily,
+      don't you, John?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; with some embarrassment. &ldquo;Yes, I do mean Miss Howes. She and I had
+      been&mdash;friends, and I feared she might misinterpret my reasons. It was
+      not until yesterday afternoon, when I learned of the&mdash;of the
+      engagement, that I felt certain neither you nor she could misunderstand.
+      Then I felt perfectly free to send you the deed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed, who had grasped his meaning, would have spoken, but Thankful
+      spoke first. She, evidently, was quite at sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The engagement?&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;What engagement?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At last Thankful understood. She looked at the speaker, then at Captain
+      Obed, and the color rushed to her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And even though Emily&mdash;Hush, Obed Bangs! you keep still&mdash;and
+      even though you knew Emily was engaged to Heman Daniels, you could still
+      give me and her&mdash;this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Mrs. Barnes, do you think&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Even Captain Obed had not a word to say. He was looking at John Kendrick
+      and John's face was white.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I'll tell you somethin' else,&rdquo; went on Thankful, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John stepped from behind the desk. &ldquo;She&mdash;she told him no,&rdquo; he
+      repeated. &ldquo;She . . . Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful laughed aloud. &ldquo;That,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;I SHAN'T tell you. If you
+      don't know yourself then I ain't the one to tell you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Obed was at her side. &ldquo;That's enough,&rdquo; he ordered, taking her by the arm.
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here!&rdquo; he whispered, eagerly. &ldquo;Stand here by the window where we can see
+      whether he comes out or not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Obed, what are you doin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doin'! I'm waitin' to see whether that boy is a permanent fool or just a
+      temporary one. Wait now; wait and watch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed laughed aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he cried, exultantly, &ldquo;'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&mdash;and we won't be WANTED there, either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've heard of a good many ghosts in my time,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seemed so silly,&rdquo; confessed Thankful, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You wouldn't laugh if you'd heard it last night. And it didn't snore the
+      first time. It said 'Oh, Lord,' then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. And there wasn't another person in that house except Emily and me; I
+      know that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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'&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm grateful to him, anyhow. And, as for John's kindness, I&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;or I shouldn't
+      wonder if he did&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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,&rdquo; she added, with emphasis, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;well, all right,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;That can be talked about later on.
+      But how about yourself? I suppose you'll keep right on with the
+      boardin'-house now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It'll be pretty hard work for you alone, won't it? Especially if Emily
+      and John should take a notion to get married.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, well! I'm used to bein' alone. I shan't mind&mdash;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed, whose mind was occupied with but one thought just then,
+      asked a question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Imogene,&rdquo; he asked in a loud whisper, &ldquo;where's Miss Emily?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene started and turned. Kenelm also started. He looked embarrassed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Eh!&rdquo; cried Imogene. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's all right?&rdquo; asked Thankful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About your brother workin' here in Kenelm's place. He don't mind. You
+      don't, do you, Kenelm?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Parker, who had been standing upon one foot and pawing like a restless
+      horse with the other, shifted his position.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No-o,&rdquo; he drawled. &ldquo;I&mdash;I don't know's I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful was disturbed. &ldquo;I'm sorry you said anything yet awhile, Imogene,&rdquo;
+       she said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's all right, ma'am,&rdquo; said Kenelm. &ldquo;I ain't partic'lar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He don't mind a bit, Mrs. Thankful,&rdquo; put in Imogene. &ldquo;Honest, he don't.
+      He don't have to work unless he's obliged to&mdash;not much anyhow.
+      Kenelm's got money, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, that's all right, too,&rdquo; interrupted Imogene eagerly. &ldquo;You needn't
+      worry about our engagement. She needn't worry about that, need she,
+      Kenelm?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Kenelm shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed thought it time to repeat his first question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where's Miss Emily?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's in the livin'-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is&mdash;is anybody with her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene nodded. &ldquo;Um-hum,&rdquo; she said gleefully, &ldquo;he's there, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who?&rdquo; The captain and Thankful spoke in concert.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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,&rdquo; with another nod, &ldquo;I've got some sense, even
+      if I did come from the Orphans' Home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed and Thankful looked at each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he did come here,&rdquo; exclaimed Thankful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Course he did. I told you he wa'n't quite a fool. Been there some time,
+      has he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Shall I tell 'em you've come? I'll knock first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, no.&rdquo; Thankful's reply was emphatic. &ldquo;Where's the rest of the folks?&rdquo;
+       she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Georgie and Mr. Cahoon&mdash;your brother, I mean&mdash;have gone up to
+      the village with the other one, the Cobb man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have they gone to the village for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To help Mr. Cobb get his horse and team at Chris Badger's. He's gone, you
+      know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who's gone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;WHAT!&rdquo; Captain Obed leaned against the corner of the house. &ldquo;A dollar!&rdquo;
+       he groaned. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I said he looked pretty nearly sick when he came down this mornin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe it. It must have been a mighty serious attack. Did Georgie take
+      the dollar with him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. He left it with Miss Emily.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful looked troubled and annoyed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm awful sorry he went,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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,&rdquo; she added, &ldquo;is to think of Jedediah's
+      cruisin' up to the village dressed in the rags he was wearin'. He looked
+      like&mdash;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!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Imogene!&rdquo; it was Emily's voice. &ldquo;Imogene, where are you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed roared a greeting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Merry Christmas, all hands,&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Hey, you, John Kendrick; are
+      you there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Kendrick&mdash;John,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;I shall call you John now; I
+      can, can't I&mdash;where is she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John smiled. He looked ready to smile at all creation. &ldquo;I think she is
+      upstairs,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;At least she ran in that direction when she heard the
+      captain call.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful started for the hall and the stairs. At the door she turned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you go away, John,&rdquo; she ordered. &ldquo;Don't you dare go away from this
+      house. You're goin' to have dinner here THIS day, if you never do again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; shouted the captain. &ldquo;Well? What have you got to say for yourself
+      now, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John laughed. &ldquo;Not much, Captain,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;not much, except that
+      I've been an idiot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yup. All right. But that ain't what I want to know. I want to know&mdash;&rdquo;
+       he stopped and gazed keenly at his friend's face. &ldquo;I don't know's I do
+      want to know, either,&rdquo; he added. &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;tattle-tales and character-naggers&rdquo; among his fellow-townsmen when
+      Imogene appeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is Mrs. Thankful here?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;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'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed's forehead wrinkled in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Witness somethin'?&rdquo; he repeated. Then, with a glance at John, who was as
+      puzzled as he, &ldquo;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&mdash;well, heave ahead, Imogene. I'll come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene conducted them to the kitchen door where Mr. Parker still stood,
+      looking remarkably foolish. Imogene's manner, however, was very
+      business-like.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now then,&rdquo; she said, addressing the two &ldquo;witnesses,&rdquo; &ldquo;you see this piece
+      of paper. Perhaps you'd better read it first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see what 'tis, don't you?&rdquo; asked Imogene. &ldquo;Yes. Well, now you watch
+      and see what I do with it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She tore the agreement into small pieces. Stepping into the kitchen she
+      put the pieces in the stove.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There!&rdquo; she exclaimed, returning to the door. &ldquo;That ends that. He and I,&rdquo;
+       pointing to Kenelm, &ldquo;ain't engaged any longer, and he don't have to work
+      here any longer. Is it all plain to both of you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not altogether plain even yet. The expression on the faces of the
+      witnesses proved that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Kenelm,&rdquo; said Imogene cheerfully, &ldquo;you can leave if you want to.
+      And,&rdquo; with a mischievous chuckle, &ldquo;when you get there you can give your
+      sister my love, the inmate's love, you know. Lordy! Won't she enjoy
+      gettin' it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When Kenelm had gone, which he did immediately and without a word, Imogene
+      vouchsafed an explanation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I never did want to marry him,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;of mushy and
+      soft about me first along&mdash;I guess guys of his kind are likely to be
+      about any woman that'll listen to 'em&mdash;and when his sister got
+      jealous and put him up to leavin' I thought up my plan. I got him to ask
+      me&mdash;he'd as much as asked me afore&mdash;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&mdash;No sir-ee! Ho! ho!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped to laugh in gleeful triumph. John laughed too. Captain Obed
+      scratched his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, hold on there; heave to, Imogene!&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He wouldn't. He didn't want to marry me&mdash;not after I'd took my time
+      at bossin' him around a while. And if he had&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain burst into a roar of laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ho! ho!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Well, Imogene, I said you beat all my goin' to sea,
+      and you do&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And yet Kenelm's Christmas was not so &ldquo;warm&rdquo; after all. He told Hannah of
+      his broken engagement, wasting no words&mdash;which, for him, was very
+      remarkable&mdash;and expressing no regret whatever. Hannah listened, at
+      first with joy, and then, when Imogene's &ldquo;love&rdquo; was conveyed to her, with
+      growing anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The idea!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;And you bring me over a message like that. From
+      her&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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 be happy, I should think. I don't see what you're growlin'
+      about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I suppose you don't. You&mdash;you,&rdquo; with withering contempt, &ldquo;you
+      haven't got the self-respect of&mdash;of a woodtick. I'm&mdash;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You went to the Cattle Show yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't care if I did. Now you march yourself upstairs and change your
+      clothes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Aw, now, Hannah. These clothes are good enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kenelm interrupted, a most unusual thing for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;S'posin' they knew what I know about you,&rdquo; he observed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What? What do you mean by that? What have I done to be ashamed of?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;with somebody else and don't get home
+      until 'most mornin', then&mdash;well, then I cal'late folks might be
+      interested if they knew, that's all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't askin' no questions,&rdquo; went on Kenelm calmly. &ldquo;I ain't told nobody
+      and I shan't unless&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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&mdash;to Kenelm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;dirty weather rigs&rdquo; and went out to give George
+      Washington and Patrick Henry and the poultry their Christmas dinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's a mercy Pat moved to drier quarters, eh, second mate!&rdquo; chuckled the
+      captain. &ldquo;He'd have had to sleep with a life-preserver on if he stayed
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They fed the hens and gave George Washington a liberal measure of oats and
+      a big forkful of hay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't want him to go hungry Christmas Day,&rdquo; said Captain Obed. &ldquo;Now let's
+      cruise around and see if Patrick Henry is singin' out for liberty or
+      death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The pig was not, apparently, &ldquo;singing out&rdquo; 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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Georgie laughed. &ldquo;Hear him,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily came hurrying around the corner of the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Captain Bangs,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Captain Bangs!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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 &ldquo;What's the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily looked at Georgie before replying.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I want to see you,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;I want you to come with me.
+      Come quick. Georgie, you must stay in the kitchen with Imogene.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily led the way toward the front stairs and Captain Obed followed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's up?&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;What's all the mystery about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We don't know&mdash;yet. But we want you to help us find out. John and I
+      have been up to look at the haunted room and&mdash;and IT'S THERE.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There! What?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The&mdash;the ghost, or whatever it is. We heard it. Come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At the door of the rooms which were the scene of Mr. Cobb's recent
+      supernatural experience and of Miss Timpson's &ldquo;warning&rdquo; they found
+      Thankful and John standing, listening. Thankful looked rather frightened.
+      John was eager and interested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You found him, Emily,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Good. Captain, you and I are
+      commissioned to lay the ghost. And the ghost is in. Listen!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should have gone in before,&rdquo; whispered John, &ldquo;but they wanted me to
+      wait for you. Come on, Captain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John looked behind the furniture and under the bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's no use doin' that,&rdquo; whispered Thankful. &ldquo;I've done that myself fifty
+      times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John,&rdquo; he whispered eagerly, &ldquo;come here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      John came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen,&rdquo; whispered the captain. &ldquo;It's plainer here than anywhere else,
+      ain't it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Yes, I think it is. But where does it come from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Somewhere overhead, seems to me. Give me that chair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got it,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Here's the place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His fingers described a circle on the wall. He tapped gently in the middle
+      of the circle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hark!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;All solid out here, but here&mdash;hollow as a drum.
+      It's&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;but what of it?&rdquo; whispered Thankful. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where could a stovepipe go to from here?&rdquo; mused the captain. &ldquo;Not into
+      the kitchen; the kitchen chimney's way over t'other side. Maybe there was
+      a chimney here afore the house was moved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the snoring?&rdquo; faltered Emily. &ldquo;Don't you hear it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He stepped down from the chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stay right where you are,&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;Don't move and don't make any
+      noise. I'll be right back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The three in the back bedroom looked at each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Captain Bangs!&rdquo; cried Emily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Obed!&rdquo; exclaimed Thankful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's found it,&rdquo; shouted Kendrick. &ldquo;Come on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo; demanded Thankful. &ldquo;Where's he gone to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello there, John!&rdquo; cried a voice from the darkness at the rear of the
+      pigsty under the kitchen. &ldquo;Come in here. Never mind your clothes. Come
+      in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We've got the answer,&rdquo; puffed Captain Obed, who was out of breath. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;yes,&rdquo; answered Emily. &ldquo;We heard you, but&mdash;but what was it
+      that snored? What was the ghost?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed burst into a shout of laughter. &ldquo;There he is,&rdquo; he said,
+      pointing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful and Emily looked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo; cried the latter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The PIG?&rdquo; exclaimed Thankful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;ho! ho!&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily laughed until the tears came into her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The pig!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Oh, Aunt Thankful! You and I were frightened almost
+      to death last night&mdash;and of that creature there. Oh, dear me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful laughed, too, but she was not fully convinced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Maybe 'twas the pig that snored,&rdquo; she admitted. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This was something of a staggerer, but the captain was still certain he
+      was on the right track.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then somethin' else was there,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know what 'tis,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a mitten, a much worn one, and on the inside of the wrist-hand were
+      worked three letters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;K. I. P.&rdquo; read Captain Obed. &ldquo;What's 'K. I. P.' stand for?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Imogene, who had joined the group, clapped her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Kenelm Issachar Parker.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful nodded. &ldquo;That's it,&rdquo; she agreed. &ldquo;And&mdash;and&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Right you are!&rdquo; Captain Obed slapped his knee. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Emily offered a suggestion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You said you saw someone hiding behind the henhouse that next morning,
+      Captain,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;the whole answer&mdash;and I'll
+      prove it next time I see Kenelm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Which, by the way, he did.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I presume likely,&rdquo; observed the captain, as he looked after them, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; observed Captain Obed, &ldquo;that's so, ain't it? Don't you agree with
+      me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still there was no answer and, turning, the captain was surprised to see
+      his companion wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For thunder sakes!&rdquo; he exclaimed, in dismay. &ldquo;What's happened now? Are
+      you cryin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful tried to smile. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;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&mdash;I was a little lonesome, I guess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sho! sho! You mustn't be lonesome. They won't get married yet awhile, I
+      cal'late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, so you will. But you've got your brother now. He'll be some
+      company.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Imogene's capable enough, and she'll be here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Silence for a time. Then Captain Obed spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thankful,&rdquo; he said, earnestly, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I had, but I don't know who 'twill be. I can't afford to hire the
+      kind of help I need.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why don't you take a partner?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A partner? Who, for goodness sakes?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;me. I've got some money of my own. I'll go in partners with
+      you here. . . . Oh, now, now!&rdquo; he added hastily. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're awfully good,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I ain't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you are. But I couldn't do it, Obed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pity!&rdquo; He turned and stared at her. &ldquo;Pity!&rdquo; he repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, pity. I know you're sorry for me. You said you were. And I know
+      you'd do anything to help me, even&mdash;even&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thankful Barnes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;did you think I asked you what I asked that
+      time out of PITY?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, Obed&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't, Obed! Don't! Let me be. Don't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paid not the slightest attention. He was bending over her, his hand
+      beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't, Obed!&rdquo; she begged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Obed, please!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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&mdash;just you. I want you, Thankful Barnes, and if
+      you'll marry me I'll be the happiest critter that walks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Obed, don't make it so hard for me. You said you wouldn't. And&mdash;and
+      you can't care&mdash;really.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't! Do you care for me? That's what I want to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Obed, you and I ain't young folks. We're gettin' on towards old age. What
+      would folks say if&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He threw his arms about her and literally lifted her from the chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't care a durn WHAT they say,&rdquo; he shouted, exultantly. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      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.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This'll be some boardin'-house, this one of ours,&rdquo; declared the captain.
+      &ldquo;We'll build the addition you wanted and we'll make the city folks sit up
+      and take notice. And,&rdquo; with a gleeful chuckle, &ldquo;we won't have any ghost
+      snorin' warnin's, either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful laughed. &ldquo;No, we won't,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;And yet I'm awfully grateful
+      to that&mdash;that&mdash;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So do I, but I have my doubts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we'll never kill old Patrick Henry, will we? That would be TOO
+      ungrateful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Obed slapped his knee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kill him!&rdquo; he repeated: &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Obed, it's rainin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Thankful smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has blessed me already, Obed,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Thankful's Inheritance, by Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THANKFUL'S INHERITANCE ***
+
+***** This file should be named 2552-h.htm or 2552-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/5/2552/
+
+Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase &ldquo;Project
+Gutenberg&rdquo;), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (&ldquo;the Foundation&rdquo;
+ or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; appears, or with which the phrase &ldquo;Project
+Gutenberg&rdquo; is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase &ldquo;Project Gutenberg&rdquo; associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+&ldquo;Plain Vanilla ASCII&rdquo; or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original &ldquo;Plain Vanilla ASCII&rdquo; or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, &ldquo;Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.&rdquo;
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+&ldquo;Defects,&rdquo; such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the &ldquo;Right
+of Replacement or Refund&rdquo; described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+  </body>
+</html>
diff --git a/2552.txt b/2552.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fc8c374
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2552.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,13583 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Thankful's Inheritance, by Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Thankful's Inheritance
+
+Author: Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+Release Date: May 18, 2006 [EBook #2552]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THANKFUL'S INHERITANCE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Donald Lainson
+
+
+
+
+
+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 be 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 be 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's Thankful's Inheritance, by Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THANKFUL'S INHERITANCE ***
+
+***** This file should be named 2552.txt or 2552.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/5/2552/
+
+Produced by Donald Lainson
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/2552.zip b/2552.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..84e870a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/2552.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d2623d7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #2552 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2552)
diff --git a/old/thkin10.txt b/old/thkin10.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..57982dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/thkin10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,14153 @@
+Project Gutenberg Etext Thankful's Inheritance, by J. C. Lincoln
+#5 in our series by Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
+the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!!
+
+Please take a look at the important information in this header.
+We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an
+electronic path open for the next readers.  Do not remove this.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations*
+
+Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and
+further information is included below.  We need your donations.
+
+
+Title:  Thankful's Inheritance
+
+Author:  Joseph C. Lincoln
+
+March, 2001  [Etext #2552]
+
+
+Project Gutenberg Etext Thankful's Inheritance, by J. C. Lincoln
+******This file should be named thkin10.txt or thkin10.zip******
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, thkin11.txt.
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, thkin10a.txt.
+
+
+This etext was prepared by Donald Lainson, charlie@idirect.com.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions,
+all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a
+copyright notice is included.  Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any
+of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+
+Please note:  neither this list nor its contents are final till
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.  To be sure you have an
+up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes
+in the first week of the next month.  Since our ftp program has
+a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a
+look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a
+new copy has at least one byte more or less.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.  This
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If our value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-six text
+files per month, or 432 more Etexts in 1999 for a total of 2000+
+If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the
+total should reach over 200 billion Etexts given away this year.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext
+Files by December 31, 2001.  [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion]
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only ~5% of the present number of computer users.
+
+At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third
+of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 3,333 Etexts unless we
+manage to get some real funding; currently our funding is mostly
+from Michael Hart's salary at Carnegie-Mellon University, and an
+assortment of sporadic gifts; this salary is only good for a few
+more years, so we are looking for something to replace it, as we
+don't want Project Gutenberg to be so dependent on one person.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+
+All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are
+tax deductible to the extent allowable by law.  (CMU = Carnegie-
+Mellon University).
+
+For these and other matters, please mail to:
+
+Project Gutenberg
+P. O. Box  2782
+Champaign, IL 61825
+
+When all other email fails. . .try our Executive Director:
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+hart@pobox.com forwards to hart@prairienet.org and archive.org
+if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if
+it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . .
+
+We would prefer to send you this information by email.
+
+******
+
+To access Project Gutenberg etexts, use any Web browser
+to view http://promo.net/pg.  This site lists Etexts by
+author and by title, and includes information about how
+to get involved with Project Gutenberg.  You could also
+download our past Newsletters, or subscribe here.  This
+is one of our major sites, please email hart@pobox.com,
+for a more complete list of our various sites.
+
+To go directly to the etext collections, use FTP or any
+Web browser to visit a Project Gutenberg mirror (mirror
+sites are available on 7 continents; mirrors are listed
+at http://promo.net/pg).
+
+Mac users, do NOT point and click, typing works better.
+
+Example FTP session:
+
+ftp sunsite.unc.edu
+login: anonymous
+password: your@login
+cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg
+cd etext90 through etext99
+dir [to see files]
+get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files]
+GET GUTINDEX.??  [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99]
+GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books]
+
+***
+
+**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor**
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here?  You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault.  So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you.  It also tells you how
+you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement.  If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from.  If you received this etext on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-
+tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor
+Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at
+Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project").  Among other
+things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext
+under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works.  Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects".  Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this
+etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from.  If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy.  If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS".  NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors,
+officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost
+and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or
+indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause:
+[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification,
+or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     etext or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word pro-
+     cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The etext may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the etext (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the
+     net profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon
+     University" within the 60 days following each
+     date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare)
+     your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time,
+scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty
+free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution
+you can think of.  Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg
+Association / Carnegie-Mellon University".
+
+We are planning on making some changes in our donation structure
+in 2000, so you might want to email me, hart@pobox.com beforehand.
+
+
+
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
+
+
+
+
+
+This etext was prepared by Donald Lainson, charlie@idirect.com.
+
+
+
+
+
+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
+
diff --git a/old/thkin10.zip b/old/thkin10.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7f7f666
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/thkin10.zip