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diff --git a/old/3281-h.htm.2021-01-27 b/old/3281-h.htm.2021-01-27 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..00940da --- /dev/null +++ b/old/3281-h.htm.2021-01-27 @@ -0,0 +1,13393 @@ +<?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> + Cy Whittaker's Place, 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 Cy Whittaker's Place, 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: Cy Whittaker's Place + +Author: Joseph C. Lincoln + +Release Date: June 3, 2006 [EBook #3281] +Last Updated: March 4, 2019 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CY WHITTAKER'S PLACE *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + CY WHITTAKER'S PLACE + </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 /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>CY WHITTAKER'S PLACE</b></big> + </a><br /> <br /> <br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> -- THE PERFECT BOARDING HOUSE<br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> -- THE WANDERER'S RETURN<br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> -- “FIXIN' OVER”<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> + CHAPTER IV </a> -- BAILEY BANGS'S EXPERIMENT<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> -- A FRONT-DOOR CALLER<br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> -- ICICLES AND DUST<br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> -- CAPTAIN CY PROVES DELINQUENT<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> + CHAPTER VIII </a> -- THE “COW LADY”<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> -- POLITICS AND BIRTHDAYS<br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> -- A LETTER AND A VISITOR<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> + CHAPTER XI </a> -- A BARGAIN OFF<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> -- “TOWN-MEETIN'” +<br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> -- THE REPULSE<br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> -- A CLEW<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> + CHAPTER XV </a> -- DEBBY BEASLEY TO THE RESCUE<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> -- A REMARKABLE DRIVE AND WHAT FOLLOWED<br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> -- THE CAPTAIN REMEMBERS HIS AGE<br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> -- CONGRESSMAN EVERDEAN<br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> -- THE TOPPLING OF A MONUMENT<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> + CHAPTER XX </a> -- DIVIDED HONORS<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> -- CAPTAIN CY'S “PICTURE” + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + CY WHITTAKER'S PLACE + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + THE PERFECT BOARDING HOUSE + </h3> + <p> + It is queer, but Captain Cy himself doesn't remember whether the day was + Tuesday or Wednesday. Asaph Tidditt's records ought to settle it, for + there was a meeting of the board of selectmen that day, and Asaph has been + town clerk in Bayport since the summer before the Baptist meeting house + burned. But on the record the date, in Asaph's handwriting, stands + “Tuesday, May 10, 189-” and, as it happens, May 10 of that year fell on + Wednesday, not Tuesday at all. + </p> + <p> + Keturah Bangs, who keeps “the perfect boarding house,” says it was + Tuesday, because she remembers they had fried cod cheeks and cabbage that + day—as they have every Tuesday—and neither Mr. Tidditt nor + Bailey Bangs, Keturah's husband, was on hand when the dinner bell rang. + Keturah says she is certain it was Tuesday, because she remembers smelling + the boiled cabbage as she stood at the side door, looking up the road to + see if either Asaph or Bailey was coming. As for Bailey, he says he + remembers being late to dinner and his wife's “startin' to heave a + broadsides into him” because of it, but he doesn't remember what day it + was. This isn't surprising; Keturah's verbal cannonades are likely to make + one forgetful of trifles. + </p> + <p> + At any rate, whether Tuesday or Wednesday, it is certain that it was + quarter past twelve, according to the clock presented to the Methodist + Society by the Honorable Heman Atkins, when Asaph Tidditt came down the + steps of the townhall, after the selectmen's meeting, and saw Bailey Bangs + waiting for him on the opposite side of the road. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Ase!” hailed Mr. Bangs. “You'll be late to dinner, if you don't + hurry. I was headin' for home, all sail sot, when I see you. What kept + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Town business, of course,” replied Mr. Tidditt, with the importance + pertaining to his official position. “What kept YOU, for the land sakes? + Won't Ketury be in your wool?” + </p> + <p> + Bailey hasn't any “wool” worth mentioning now, and he had very little more + then, but he mopped his forehead, or the extension above it, taking off + his cap to do so. + </p> + <p> + “I cal'late she will,” he said, uneasily. “Tell you the truth, Ase, I was + up to the store, and Cap'n Josiah Dimick and some more of 'em drifted in + and we got talkin' about the chances of the harbor appropriation, and one + thing or 'nother, and 'twas later'n I thought 'twas 'fore I knew it.” + </p> + <p> + The appropriation from the government, which was to deepen and widen our + harbor here at Bayport, was a very vital topic among us just then. Heman + Atkins, the congressman from our district, had promised to do his best for + the appropriation, and had for a time been very sanguine of securing it. + Recently, however, he had not been quite as hopeful. + </p> + <p> + “What's Cap'n Josiah think about the chances?” asked Asaph eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sometimes he thinks 'Yes' and then again he thinks 'No,'” replied + Bailey. “He says, of course, if Heman is able to get it he will, but if he + ain't able to, he—he—” + </p> + <p> + “He won't, I s'pose. Well, <i>I</i> can think that myself, and I don't set + up to be no inspired know-it-all, like Joe Dimick. He ain't heard from + Heman lately, has he?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he ain't. Neither's anybody else, so fur as I can find out.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, they have. <i>I</i> have, for one.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs stopped short in his double-quick march for home and dinner, and + looked his companion in the face. + </p> + <p> + “Ase Tidditt!” he cried. “Do you mean to tell me you've had a letter from + Heman Atkins, from Washin'ton?” + </p> + <p> + Asaph nodded portentously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” he declared. “A letter from the Honorable Heman G. Atkins, of + Washin'ton, D. C., come to me last night. I read it afore I turned in.” + </p> + <p> + “You did! And never said nothin' about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I say anything about it? 'Twas addressed to me as town clerk, + and was concernin' a matter to be took up with the board of s'lectmen. I + ain't in the habit of hollerin' town affairs through a speakin' trumpet. + Folks that vote for me town-meetin' day know that, I guess. Angie Phinney + says to me only yesterday, 'Mr. Tidditt,' says she, 'there's one thing + I'll say for you—you don't talk.'” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phinney boarded with the Bangses, and Bailey was acquainted with her + personal peculiarities; for that matter so were most of Bayport's + permanent residents. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he snorted indignantly. “She thought 'twas a good thing not to + talk, hey? SHE did? Well, by mighty! you never get no CHANCE to talk when + she's around. Angie Phinney! Why, when that poll parrot of hers died, + Alph'us Smalley declared up and down that what killed it was jealousy and + disapp'inted ambition; he said it broke its heart tryin' to keep up with + Angie. Her ma was the same breed of cats. I remember—” + </p> + <p> + The talking proclivities of females is the one topic upon which Keturah's + husband is touchiest. Asaph knew this, but he delighted to stir up his + chum occasionally. He chuckled as he interrupted the flow of reminiscence. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Bailey!” he exclaimed. “I know as much about Angie's tribe + as you do, I cal'late. Ain't we a little mite off the course? Seems to me + we was talkin' about Heman's letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that so? I judged from what you said we wa'n't goin' to talk about it. + Aw, don't be so mean, Ase! Showin' off your importance like a young one! + What did Heman say about the appropriation? Is he goin' to get it?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt paused before replying. Then, bending over, he whispered in + his chum's ear: + </p> + <p> + “He never said one word about the appropriation, Bailey; not one word. He + wanted to know if we'd got this year's taxes on the Whittaker place. And, + if we hadn't, what was we goin' to do about it? Bailey, between you and me + and the mizzenmast, Heman Atkins wants to get ahold of that place the + worst way.” + </p> + <p> + “He does? He DOES? For the land sakes, ain't he got property enough + already? Ain't a—a palace like that enough for one man, without + wantin' to buy a rattletrap like THAT?” + </p> + <p> + The first “that” was emphasized by a brandished but reverent left hand; + the second by a derisively pointing right. The two friends had reached the + crest of the long slope leading up from the townhall. On one side of the + road stretched the imposing frontage of the “Atkins estate,” with its iron + fence and stone posts; on the other slouched the weed-grown, tumble-down + desolation of the “Cy Whittaker place.” The contrast was that of opulent + prosperity and poverty-stricken neglect. + </p> + <p> + If our village boasted one of those horseless juggernauts, such as are + used to carry sightseers in Boston from the old North Church to the Public + Library and other points of interest—that is, if there was a “seeing + Bayport” car, it is from this hill that its occupants would be given their + finest view of the village and its surroundings. As Captain Josiah Dimick + always says: “Bayport is all north and south, like a codfish line. It puts + me in mind of Seth Higgins's oldest boy. He was so tall and thin that when + they bought a suit of clothes for him, they used to take reefs in the + sides of the jacket and use the cloth to piece onto the bottoms of the + trousers' legs.” What Captain Joe means is that the houses in the village + are all built beside three roads running longitudinally. There is the + “main road” and the “upper road”—or “Woodchuck Lane,” just as you + prefer—and the “lower road,” otherwise known as “Bassett's Holler.” + </p> + <p> + The “upper road” is sometimes called the “depot road,” because the + railroad station is conveniently located thereon—convenient for the + railroad, that is—the station being a full mile from Simmons's + “general store,” which is considered the center of the town. The upper + road enters the main road at the corner by the store, and there also are + the Methodist meetinghouse and the schoolhouse. The townhall is in the + hollow farther on. Then comes the big hill— + </p> + <p> + “Whittaker's Hill”—and from the top of this hill you can, on a clear + day, see for miles across the salt marshes and over the bay to the + eastward, and west as far as the church steeple in Orham. If there happens + to be a fog, with a strong easterly wind, you cannot see the marshes or + the bay, but you can smell them, wet and salty and sweet. It is a smell + that the born Bayporter never forgets, but carries with him in memory + wherever he goes; and that, in the palmy days of the merchant marine, was + likely, to be far, for every male baby in the village was born with web + feet, so people said, and was predestined to be a sailor. + </p> + <p> + When Heman Atkins came back from the South Seas early in the '60's, “rich + as dock mud,” though still a young man, he promptly tore down his father's + old house, which stood on the crest of Whittaker's Hill, and built in its + place a big imposing residence. It was by far the finest house in Bayport, + and Heman made it finer as the years passed. There were imitation + brownstone pillars supporting its front porch, iron dogs and scroll work + iron benches bordering its front walk, and a pair of stone urns, in summer + filled with flowers, beside its big iron front gate. + </p> + <p> + Heman was our leading citizen, our representative in Washington, and the + town's philanthropist. He gave the Atkins memorial window and the Atkins + tower clock to the Methodist Church. The Atkins town pump, also his gift, + stood before the townhall. The Atkins portrait in the Bayport Ladies' + Library was much admired; and the size of the Atkins fortune was the + principal subject of conversation at sewing circle, at the table of “the + perfect boarding house,” around the stove in Simmons's store, or wherever + Bayporters were used to gather. We never exactly worshipped Heman Atkins, + perhaps, but we figuratively doffed our hats when his name was mentioned. + </p> + <p> + The “Cy Whittaker place” faced the Atkins estate from the opposite side of + the main road, but it was the general opinion that it ought to be ashamed + to face it. Almost everybody called it “the Cy Whittaker place,” although + some of the younger set spoke of it as the “Sea Sight House.” It was a + big, old-fashioned dwelling, gambrel-roofed and brown and dilapidated. + Originally it had enjoyed the dignified seclusion afforded by a white + picket fence with square gateposts, and the path to its seldom-used front + door had been guarded by rigid lines of box hedge. This, however, was + years ago, before the second Captain Cy Whittaker died, and before the + Howes family turned it into the “Sea Sight House,” a hotel for summer + boarders. + </p> + <p> + The Howeses “improved” the house and grounds. They tore down the picket + fence, uprooted the box hedges, hung a sign over the sacred front door, + and built a wide veranda under the parlor windows. + </p> + <p> + They took boarders for five consecutive summers; then they gave up the + unprofitable undertaking, returned to Concord, New Hampshire, their native + city, and left the Cy Whittaker place to bear the ravages of Bayport + winters and Bayport small boys as best it might. + </p> + <p> + For years it stood empty. The weeds grew high about its foundations; the + sparrows built nests behind such of its shutters as had not been ripped + from their hinges by February no'theasters; its roof grew bald in spots as + the shingles loosened and were blown away; the swallows flew in and out of + its stone-broken windowpanes. Year by year it became more of a disgrace in + the eyes of Bayport's neat and thrifty inhabitants—for neat and + thrifty we are, if we do say it. The selectmen would have liked to tear it + down, but they could not, because it was private property, having been + purchased from the Howes heirs by the third Cy Whittaker, Captain Cy's + only son, who ran away to sea when he was sixteen years old, and was + disinherited and cast off by the proud old skipper in consequence. Each + March, Asaph Tidditt, in his official capacity as town clerk, had been + accustomed to receive an envelope with a South American postmark, and in + that envelope was a draft on a Boston banking house for the sum due as + taxes on the “Cy Whittaker place.” The drafts were signed “Cyrus M. + Whittaker.” + </p> + <p> + But this particular year—the year in which this chronicle begins—no + draft had been received. Asaph waited a few weeks and then wrote to the + address indicated by the postmark. His letter was unanswered. The taxes + were due in March and it was now May. Mr. Tidditt wrote again; then he + laid the case before the board of selectmen, and Captain Eben Salters, + chairman of that august body, also wrote. But even Captain Eben's + authoritative demand was ignored. Next to the harbor appropriation, the + question of what should be done about the “Cy Whittaker place” filled + Bayport's thoughts that spring. No one, however, had supposed that the + Honorable Heman might wish to buy it. Bailey Bangs's surprise was + excusable. + </p> + <p> + “What in the world,” repeated Bailey, “does Heman want of a shebang like + that? Ain't he got enough already?” + </p> + <p> + His friend shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “'Pears not,” he said. “I judge it's this way, Bailey: Heman, he's a proud + man—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, ain't he got a right to be proud?” broke in Mr. Bangs, hastening to + resent any criticism of the popular idol. “Cal'late you and me'd be proud + if we was able to carry as much sail as he does, wouldn't we?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I guess like we would. But you needn't get red in the face and + strain your biler just because I said that. I ain't finding fault with + Heman; I'm only tellin' you. He's proud, as I said, and his wife—” + </p> + <p> + “She's dead this four year. What are you resurrectin' her for?” + </p> + <p> + “Land! you're peppery as a West Injy omelet this mornin'. Let me alone + till I've finished. His wife, when she was alive, she was proud, too. And + his daughter, Alicia, she's eight year old now, and by and by she'll be + grown up into a high-toned young woman. Well, Heman is fur-sighted, and I + s'pose likely he's thinkin' of the days when there'll be young rich + fellers—senators and—and—well, counts and lords, maybe—cruisin' + down here courtin' her. By that time the Whittaker place'll be a worse + disgrace than 'tis now. I presume he don't want those swells to sit on his + front piazza and see the crows buildin' nests in the ruins acrost the + road. So—” + </p> + <p> + “Crows! Did you ever see a crow build a nest in a house? I never did!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, belay! Crows or canary birds, what difference does it make? SOMETHIN' + 'll nest there, if it's only A'nt Sophrony Hallett's hens. So Heman he + writes to the board, askin' if the taxes is paid, if we've heard any + reason why they ain't paid, and what we're goin' to do about it. If + there's a sale for taxes he wants to be fust bidder. Then, when the place + is his, he can tear down or rebuild, just as he sees fit. See?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I see. Well, I feel about that the way Joe Dimick felt when he heard + the doctor had told Elviry Pepper she must stop singin' in the choir or + lose her voice altogether. 'Whichever happens 'll be an improvement,' says + Cap'n Joe; and whatever Heman does 'll help the Whittaker place. What did + you decide at the meetin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin'. We can't decide yet. We ain't sure about the law and we want to + wait a spell, anyhow. But I know how 'twill end: Atkins 'll get the place. + He always gets what he wants, Heman does.” + </p> + <p> + Bailey turned and looked back at the old house, forlorn amidst its huddle + of blackberry briers and weeds, and with the ubiquitous “silver-leaf” + saplings springing up in clusters everywhere about it and closing in on + its defenseless walls like squads of victorious soldiery making the final + charge upon a conquered fort. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” sighed Mr. Bangs, “so that 'll be the end of the old Whittaker + place, hey? Sho! things change in a feller's lifetime, don't they? You and + me can remember, Ase, when Cap'n Cy Whittaker was one of the biggest men + we had in this town. So was his dad afore him, the Cap'n Cy that built the + house. I wonder the looks of things here now don't bring them two up out + of their graves. Do you remember young Cy—'Whit' we used to call him—or + 'Reddy Whit,' 'count of his red hair? I don't know's you do, though; guess + you'd gone to sea when he run away from home.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” he said. “I was to home that year. Remember 'Whit'? Well, I + should say I did. He was a holy terror—yes, sir! Wan't no monkey + shines or didos cut up in this town that young Cy wan't into. Fur's that + goes, you and me was in 'em, too, Bailey. We was all holy terrors then. + Young ones nowadays ain't got the spunk we used to have.” + </p> + <p> + His friend chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” he declared. “That's so. Whit was a good-hearted boy, too, + but full of the Old Scratch and as sot in his ways as his dad, and if + Cap'n Cy wan't sot, then there ain't no sotness. 'You'll go to college and + be a parson,' says the Cap'n. 'I'll go to sea and be a sailor, same as you + done,' says Whit. And he did, too; run away one night, took the packet to + Boston, and shipped aboard an Australian clipper. Cap'n Cy didn't go after + him to fetch him home. No, sir—ee! not a fetch. Sent him a letter + plumb to Melbourne and, says he: 'You've made your bed; now lay in it. + Don't you never dast to come back to me or your ma,' he says. And Whit + didn't, he wan't that kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty nigh killed the old lady—Whit's ma—that did,” mused + Asaph. “She died a little spell afterwards. And the old man pined away, + too, but he never give in or asked the boy to come back. Stubborn as all + get-out to the end, he was, and willed the place, all he had left, to them + Howes folks. And a nice mess THEY made of it. Young Cy, he—” + </p> + <p> + “Young Cy!” interrupted Bailey. “We're always callin' him 'young Cy,' and + yet, when you come to think of it, he must be pretty nigh fifty-five now; + 'most as old as you and I be. Wonder if he'll ever come back here.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet he won't!” was the oracular reply. “You bet he won't! From what I + hear he got to be a sea cap'n himself and settled down there in Buenos + Ayres. He's made all kinds of money, they say, out of hides and such. What + he ever bought his dad's old place for, <i>I</i> can't see. He'll never + come back to these common, one-horse latitudes, now you mark my word on + that!” + </p> + <p> + It was a prophecy Mr. Tidditt was accustomed to make each year to the + crowd at the post office, when the receipt for the draft for taxes caused + him to wax reminiscent. The younger generation here in Bayport regard + their town clerk as something of an oracle, and this regard has made Asaph + a trifle vain and positive. + </p> + <p> + Bailey chuckled again. + </p> + <p> + “We WAS a spunky, dare-devil lot in the old days, wan't we, Ase?” he said. + “Spunk was kind of born in us, as you might say. And even now we're—” + </p> + <p> + The Atkins tower clock boomed once—a solemn, dignified stroke. Mr. + Tidditt and his companion started and looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Godfrey scissors!” gasped Asaph. “Is that half past twelve?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs pulled a big worn silver watch from his pocket and glanced at + the dial. + </p> + <p> + “It is!” he moaned. “As sure's you're born, it is! We've kept Ketury's + dinner waitin' twenty minutes. You and me are in for it now, Ase Tidditt! + Twenty minutes late! She'll skin us alive.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt did not pause to answer, but plunged headlong down the hill at + a race-horse gait, Bailey pounding at his heels. For “born dare-devils,” + self-confessed, they were a nervous and apprehensive pair. + </p> + <p> + The “perfect boarding house” is situated a quarter of a mile beyond + “Whittaker's Hill,” nearly opposite the Salters homestead. The sign, hung + on the pole by the front gate, reads, “Bayport Hotel. Bailey Bangs, + Proprietor,” but no one except the stranger in Bayport accepts that sign + seriously. When, owing to an unexpected change in the administration at + Washington, Mr. Bangs was obliged to relinquish his position as our + village postmaster, his wife came to the rescue with the proposal that + they open a boarding house. “'Whatsoe'er you find to do,' quoted Keturah + at sewing-circle meeting, 'do it then with all your might!' That's a good + Sabbath-school hymn tune and it's good sense besides. I intend to make it + my life work to run just as complete a—a eatin' and lodgin' + establishment as I can. If, when I'm laid to rest, they can put onto my + gravestone, 'She run the perfect boardin' house,' I'LL be satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + This remark, and subsequent similar declarations, were widely quoted, and, + therefore, though casual visitors may refer to the “Bayport Hotel,” to us + natives the Bangs residence is always “Keturah's perfect boarding house.” + As for the sign's affirmation of Mr. Bangs proprietorship, that is + considered the cream of the joke. The idea of meek, bald-headed little + Bailey posing as proprietor of anything while his wife is on deck, tickles + Bayport's sense of humor. + </p> + <p> + The perspiring delinquents panted into the yard of the perfect boarding + house and tremblingly opened the door leading to the dining room. Dinner + was well under way, and Mrs. Bangs, enthroned at the end of the long + table, behind the silver-plated teapot, was waiting to receive them. The + silence was appalling. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry to be a little behindhand, Ketury,” stammered Asaph hurriedly. + “Town affairs are important, of course, and can't be neglected. I—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; that's so, Ketury,” cut in Mr. Bangs. + </p> + <p> + “You see—” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Yes, I see.” Keturah's tone was several degrees below freezing. + “Hum! I s'pose 'twas town affairs kept you, too, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well—er—not exactly, as you might say, but—” + Bailey squeezed himself into the armchair at the end of the table opposite + his wife, the end which, with sarcasm not the less keen for being + unintentional, was called the “head.” “Not exactly town affairs, 'twan't + that kept me, Ketury, but—My! don't them cod cheeks smell good? You + always could cook cod cheeks, if I do say it.” + </p> + <p> + The compliment was wasted. Mrs. Bangs had a sermon to deliver, and its + text was not “cod cheeks.” + </p> + <p> + “Bailey Bangs,” she began, “when I was brought to realize that my husband, + although apparently an able-bodied man, couldn't support me as I'd been + used to be supported, and when I was forced to support HIM by keepin' + boarders, I says, 'If there's one thing that my house shall stand for it's + punctual promptness at meal times. I say nothing,' I says, 'about the + inconvenience of gettin' on with only one hired help when we ought to have + three. If Providence, in its unscrutable wisdom,' I says, 'has seen fit to + lay this burden onto me, the burden of a household of boarders and a + husband whom—'” + </p> + <p> + And just then the power referred to by Mrs. Bangs intervened to spare her + husband the remainder of the preachment. From the driveway of the yard, + beside the dining-room windows, came the rattle of wheels and the tramp of + a horse's feet. Mrs. Matilda Tripp, who sat nearest the windows, on that + side, rose and peered out. + </p> + <p> + “It's the depot wagon, Ketury,” she said. “There's somebody inside it. I + wonder if they're comin' here.” + </p> + <p> + “Transients” were almost unknown quantities at the Bayport Hotel in May. + Consequently, all the boarders and the landlady herself crowded to the + windows. The “depot wagon” had drawn up by the steps, and Gabe Lumley, the + driver, had descended from his seat and was doing his best to open the + door of the ancient vehicle. It stuck, of course; the doors of all depot + wagons stick. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on a shake!” commanded some one inside the carriage. “Wait till I + get a purchase on her. Now, then! All hands to the ropes! Heave—ho! + THERE she comes!” + </p> + <p> + The door flew back with a bang. A man sprang out upon the lower step of + the porch. The eye of every inmate of the perfect boarding house was on + him. Even the “hired help” peered from the kitchen door. + </p> + <p> + “He's a stranger,” whispered Mrs. Tripp. “I never see him before, did you, + Mr. Tidditt?” + </p> + <p> + The town clerk did not answer. He was staring at the depot wagon's + passenger, staring with a face the interested expression of which was + changing to that of surprise and amazed incredulity. Mrs. Tripp turned to + Mr. Bangs; he also was staring, open-mouthed. + </p> + <p> + “Godfrey scissors!” gasped Asaph, under his breath. “Godfrey—SCISSORS! + Bailey, I—I believe—I swan to man, I believe—” + </p> + <p> + “Ase Tidditt!” exclaimed Mr. Bangs, “am I goin' looney, or is that—is + that—” + </p> + <p> + Neither finished his sentence. There are times when language seems so + pitifully inadequate. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + THE WANDERER'S RETURN + </h3> + <p> + Here in Bayport, nowadays, the collecting of “antiques” is a favorite + amusement of our summer visitors. Those of us who were fortunate enough to + possess a set of nicked blue dishes, a warming pan, or a tall clock with + wooden wheels, have long ago parted with these treasures for considerable + sums. Oddly enough Sylvanus Cahoon has profited most by this craze. + Sylvanus used to be judged the unluckiest man in town; of late this + judgment has been revised. + </p> + <p> + It was Sylvanus who, confined to the house by an illness brought on by + eating too much “sugar cake” at a free sociable given by the Methodist + Society, arose in the night and drank copiously of what he supposed to be + the medicine left by the doctor. It happened to be water-bug poison, and + Sylvanus was nearly killed by the dose. He is reported as having admitted + that he “didn't mind dyin' so much, but hated to die such a dum mean + death.” + </p> + <p> + While convalescent he took to smoking in bed and was burned out of house + and home in consequence. Then it was that his kind-hearted fellow citizens + donated, for the furnishing of his new residence, all the cast-off bits of + furniture and odds and ends from their garrets. “Charity,” observed + Captain Josiah Dimick at the time, “begins at home with us Bayporters, and + it generally begins up attic, that bein' nighest to heaven.” + </p> + <p> + Later Sylvanus sold most of the donations as “antiques” and made money + enough therefrom to buy a new plush parlor set. Miss Angeline Phinney + never called on the Cahoons after that without making her appearance at + the front door. “I'll get some good out of that plush sofy I helped to pay + for,” declared Angeline, “if it's only to wear it out by settin' on it.” + </p> + <p> + There are two “antiques” in Bayport which have not yet been sold or even + bid for. One is Gabe Lumley's “depot wagon,” and the other is “Dan'l + Webster,” the horse which draws it. Both are very ancient, sadly in need + of upholstery, and jerky of locomotion. + </p> + <p> + Gabe was, as usual, waiting at the station when the down train arrived, on + the Tuesday—or Wednesday—of the selectmen's meeting. The train + was due, according to the time-table, at eleven forty-five. This + time-table, and the signboard of the “Bayport Hotel” are the only bits of + humorous literature peculiar to our village, unless we add the political + editorials of the Bayport Breeze. + </p> + <p> + So, at eleven forty-five, Mr. Lumley was serenely dozing on the baggage + truck, which he had wheeled to the sunny side of the platform. At five + minutes past twelve, he yawned, stretched, and looked at his watch. Then, + rolling off the truck, he strolled to the edge of the platform and spoke + authoritatively to “Dan'l Webster.” + </p> + <p> + “Hi there! stand still!” commanded Mr. Lumley. + </p> + <p> + Standing still being Dan'l's long suit, the order was obeyed. Gabe then + loafed to the door of the station and accosted the depot master, who was + nodding in his chair beside the telegraph instrument. + </p> + <p> + “Where is she now, Ed?” asked Mr. Lumley, referring to the train. + </p> + <p> + “Just left South Harniss. Be here pretty soon. What's your hurry? + Expectin' anybody?” + </p> + <p> + “Naw; nobody that I know of, special. Sophrony Hallett's gone to Ostable, + but she won't be back till to-morrow I cal'late. Hello! there she whistles + now.” + </p> + <p> + Needless to say it was the train, not the widow Hallett, that had + whistled. The depot master rose from his chair. A yellow dog, his + property, scrambled from beneath it, and rushing out of the door and to + the farther end of the platform, barked furiously. Cephas Baker, who lives + across the road from the depot, slouched down to his front gate. His wife + opened the door of her kitchen and stood there, her wet arms wrapped in + her apron. The five Baker children tore round the corner of the house, + over the back fence, and lined up, whooping joyously, on the platform. A + cloud of white smoke billowed above the clump of cedars at the bend of the + track. Then the locomotive rounded the curve and bore down upon the + station. + </p> + <p> + “Stand still, I tell you!” shouted Gabe, addressing the horse. + </p> + <p> + Dan'l Webster opened one eye, closed it and relapsed into slumber. + </p> + <p> + The train, a combination baggage car and smoker, two freight cars and a + passenger coach, rolled ponderously alongside the platform. From the open + door of the baggage car were tossed the mail sack and two express + packages. The conductor stepped from the passenger coach. Following him + came briskly a short, thickset man with a reddish-gray beard and + grayish-red hair. + </p> + <p> + “Goin' down to the village, Mister?” inquired Mr. Lumley. “Carriage right + here.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger inspected the driver of the depot wagon, inspected him + deliberately from top to toe. Then he said: + </p> + <p> + “Down to the village? Why, yes, I wouldn't wonder. Say! you're a Lumley, + ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why! why—yes, I be! How'd you know that? Ain't ever seen you afore, + have I?” + </p> + <p> + “Guess not,” with a quiet chuckle. “I've never seen you, either, but I've + seen your nose. I'd know a Lumley nose if I run across it in China.” + </p> + <p> + The possessor of the “Lumley nose” rubbed that organ in a bewildered + fashion. Recovering in a measure he laughed, rather half-heartedly, and + begged to know if the trunk, then being unloaded from the baggage car, + belonged to his prospective passenger. As the answer was an affirmative + nod, he secured the trunk check and departed, still rubbing his nose. + </p> + <p> + When he returned, with the trunk on the truck, he found the stranger, with + his hands in his pockets, standing before Dan'l Webster and gazing at that + animal with an expression of acute interest. + </p> + <p> + “Is this your—horse?” demanded the newcomer, pausing before the + final word of his question. + </p> + <p> + “It's so cal'lated to be,” replied Gabe, with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Does he work nights?” + </p> + <p> + “Work nights? No, course he don't!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right! Then you can wake him up with a clear conscience. I didn't + know but he needed the sleep. What's his record?” + </p> + <p> + “Record?” + </p> + <p> + “Yup; his trottin' record. Anybody can see he's built for speed, narrow in + the beam and sharp fore and aft. Shall I get aboard the barouche?” + </p> + <p> + The depot master, who was on hand to help with the trunk, grinned broadly. + Mr. Lumley sulkily made answer that his passenger might get aboard if he + wanted to. Apparently he wanted to, for he sprang into the depot wagon + with a bounce that made the old vehicle rock on its springs. + </p> + <p> + “Jerushy!” he exclaimed, “she rolls some, don't she? Never mind, MY + ballast 'll keep her on an even keel. Trunk made fast astern? All right! + Say! you might furl some of this spare canvas so's I can take an + observation as we go along. Don't go so fast that the scenery gets + blurred, will you? It's been some time since I made this cruise, and I'd + rather like to keep a lookout.” + </p> + <p> + The driver “furled the canvas”—that is, he rolled up the curtains at + the sides of the carryall. Then he climbed to the front seat and took up + the reins. + </p> + <p> + “Git up!” he shouted savagely. Dan'l Webster did not move. + </p> + <p> + The passenger offered a suggestion. “Why don't you try hangin' an alarm + clock in his fore-riggin'?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Haw! haw!” roared the depot master. + </p> + <p> + “Git up, you—you lump!” bellowed the harassed Mr. Lumley. Dan'l + pricked up one ear, then a hoof, and slowly got under way. As the equipage + passed the Baker homestead, the whole family was clustered about the gate, + staring at the occupant of the wagon. The stare was returned. + </p> + <p> + “Who lives in there?” demanded the stranger. “Who are those folks?” + </p> + <p> + “Ceph Baker's tribe,” was the sullen answer. + </p> + <p> + “Baker, hey? Humph! new folks, I presume likely. Used to be Seth Snow's + house, that did. Where'd Seth go to?” + </p> + <p> + Gabe grunted that he did not know. He believed Mr. Snow was dead, had died + years before. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! dead, hey? Then I know where he went. Do you ever smoke—or + does drivin' this horse make you too nervous?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lumley thawed a bit at the sight of the proffered cigar. He admitted + that he smoked occasionally and that he guessed “'twouldn't interfere with + the drivin' none.” + </p> + <p> + “Good enough! then we'll light up. I can talk better if I'm under a head + of steam. There's a new house; who built that?” + </p> + <p> + The “new” house was fifteen years old, but Gabe gave the name of its + builder. Then, thinking that the catechising had been altogether too + one-sided, he ventured an observation of his own. + </p> + <p> + “This is a pretty good cigar, Mister,” he said. “Smokes like a Snowflake.” + </p> + <p> + “Like a what?” + </p> + <p> + “Like a Snowflake. That's about the best straight five center you can get + around here. Simmons used to keep 'em, but the drummer's cart ain't called + lately and he's all out.” + </p> + <p> + “That's a shame. I told the train boy that these smoked like somethin', + but I didn't know what to call it. Much obliged to you. Here's another; + put it in your pocket. Oh, no thanks; pleasure's all mine. Who's Simmons?” + </p> + <p> + Gabe described the Simmons general store and its proprietor. Then he + added: + </p> + <p> + “I was noticin' that trunk of yours, mister; it's all plastered over with + labels, ain't it? Cal'late that trunk's done some travelin', hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Think so, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. Gee! I'd like to travel myself. But no! I got to stay all my life in + this dead 'n' alive hole. I wanted to go to Boston and clerk in a store, + but the old man put his foot down, and here I've stuck ever sence. Git up, + Dan'l! What's the matter with you?” + </p> + <p> + The passenger smiled, but there was a dreamy look in his gray eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Don't find fault, son,” he said. “There's worse places in the world than + old Bayport, and worse judgment than mindin' your dad. Don't forget that + or you may be sorry for it some day.” He sniffed eagerly. “Ah!” he + exclaimed, “just smell that, will you? Ain't that FINE?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! that's the flats. You can smell 'em any time when the tide's out + and the wind's right. You see, the tide goes out pretty fur here and—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't I know it? Son, I've been waitin' thirty odd year for that smell + and here 'tis at last. Drive slow and let me fill up on it. Just blow that—that + Snowstorm of yours the other way for a spell, won't you? Thanks.” + </p> + <p> + The request to be driven slow was so superfluous that Mr. Lumley paid no + attention to it. He puffed industriously at the Snowflake and watched his + companion, who, leaning forward on the seat, was gazing out at the town + and the bay beyond it. The “depot hill” is not as high as Whittaker's + Hill, but the view is almost as extensive. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, Mister,” observed Gabe, after an interval, “but you ain't said + where you're goin'.” + </p> + <p> + The passenger came out of his day dream with a start. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that's right!” he exclaimed. “So I haven't! Well, now, where would + you go, if you was me? Is there a hotel or tavern or somethin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. There's the Bayport Hotel. 'Tain't exactly a hotel, neither. We call + it the perfect boardin' house 'round here. You see—” + </p> + <p> + He proceeded to tell the story of “the perfect boarding house.” His + listener seemed greatly interested, and although he laughed, did not + interrupt until the tale was ended. + </p> + <p> + “So!” he said, chuckling. “Bailey Bangs, hey? Stub Bangs! Well, well! And + he married Ketury Payson! How in time did he ever find spunk enough to + propose? And Ketury runs the perfect boardin' house! Well, that ought to + be job enough for one woman. She runs Bailey, too, on the side, I s'pose?” + </p> + <p> + “You bet you! He don't dast to say 'boo' to a chicken when she's 'round. I + say, Mister! I don't know's I know your name, do I? I judge you've been + here afore so—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I've been here before. Whose is that big place up there across our + bows? The one with the cupola on the main truck?” + </p> + <p> + “That, sir,” said Mr. Lumley, oratorically, “belongs to the Honorable + Heman G. Atkins, and it's probably the finest in this county. Heman is our + representative in Washin'ton, and—Did you say anything?” + </p> + <p> + The passenger had said something, but he did not repeat it. He was leaning + from the carriage and gazing steadily up the slope ahead. And his gaze, + strange to say, was not directed at the imposing Atkins estate, but at its + opposite neighbor, the old “Cy Whittaker place.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly, laboriously, Dan'l Webster mounted the hill. At the crest he would + have paused to take breath, but the driver would not let him. + </p> + <p> + “Git along, you!” he commanded, flapping the reins. + </p> + <p> + And then Mr. Lumley suffered the shock of a surprise. The hitherto cool + and self-possessed occupant of the rear seat seemed very much excited. His + big red hand clasped Mr. Lumley's over the reins, and Dan'l was brought to + an abrupt standstill. + </p> + <p> + “Heave to!” he ordered, sharply, and the tone was that of one who has + given many orders and expects them to be obeyed. “Belay! Whoa, there! + Great land of love! look at that! LOOK at it! Who did that?” + </p> + <p> + The mate to the big red hand pointed to the front door of the Whittaker + place. Gabe was alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “Done what? Done which?” he gasped. “What you talkin' about? There ain't + nobody lives in there. That house has been empty for—” + </p> + <p> + “Where's the front fence?” demanded the excited passenger. “What's become + of the hedge? And who put up that—that darned piazza?” + </p> + <p> + The piazza had been where it now was almost since Mr. Lumley could + remember. He hastened to reply that he didn't know; he wasn't sure; he + presumed likely 'twas “them New Hampshire Howeses,” when they ran a summer + boarding house. + </p> + <p> + The stranger drew a long breath. “Well, of all the—” he began. Then + he choked, hesitated, and ordered his driver to heave ahead and run + alongside the hotel as quick as the Almighty would let him. Gabe hastened + to obey. He was now absolutely certain that his companion was an escaped + lunatic, and the sooner another keeper was appointed the better. The + remainder of the trip was made in silence. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bangs opened the door of the perfect boarding house and stood + majestically waiting to receive the prospective guest. Over her shoulders + peered the faces of the boarders. + </p> + <p> + “Good afternoon,” began the landlady. “I presume likely you would like to—” + </p> + <p> + She was interrupted. The newcomer turned toward her and extended his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Ketury!” he said. “I ain't seen you sence you wore your hair up, + but you're just as good-lookin' as ever. And ain't that Bailey? Yes, 'tis, + and Asaph, too! How are you, boys? Shake!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs and his chum, the town clerk, had emerged from the doorway. + Their mouths and eyes were wide open and they seemed to be suffering from + a sort of paralysis. + </p> + <p> + “Well? What's the matter with you?” demanded the arrival. “Ain't too stuck + up to shake hands after all these years, are you?” + </p> + <p> + Bailey's mouth closed in order that it's possessor might swallow. Then it + slowly reopened. + </p> + <p> + “I swan to man!” he ejaculated. “WELL! I swan to man! I—I b'lieve + you're Cy Whittaker!” + </p> + <p> + “Course I am. Have to dye my carrot top if I want to play anybody else. + But look here, boys, you answer my question: who had the cheek to rig up + that blasted piazza on my house? It starts to come down to-morrow + mornin'!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + “FIXIN' OVER” + </h3> + <p> + Miss Angeline Phinney made no less than nine calls that afternoon. Before + bedtime it was known, from the last house in Woodchuck Lane to the fish + shanties at West Bayport, that “young Cy” Whittaker had come back; that he + had come back “for good”; that he was staying temporarily at the perfect + boarding house; that he was “awful well off”—having made lots of + money down in South America; that he intended to “fix over” the Whittaker + place, and that it was to be fixed over, not in a modern manner, with + plush parlor sets—a la Sylvanus Cahoon—nor with onyx tables + and blue and gold chairs like those adorning the Atkins mansion. It was to + be, as near as possible, a reproduction of what it had been in the time of + the late “Cap'n Cy,” young Cy's father. + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> think he's out of his head,” declared Miss Phinney, in + confidence, to each of the nine females whom she favored with her calls. + “Not crazy, you understand, but sort of touched in the upper story. I says + so to Matildy Tripp, said it right out, too: 'Matildy,' I says, 'he's got + a screw loose up aloft just as sure as you're a born woman!' 'What makes + you think so?' says she. 'Well,' says I, 'do you s'pose anybody that wan't + foolish would be for spendin' good money on an old house to make it + OLDER?' I says. Goin' to tear down the piazza the fust thing! Perfectly + good piazza that cost ninety-eight dollars and sixty cents to build; I + know, because I see the bill when the Howeses had it done. And he's goin' + to set out box hedges, somethin' that ain't been the style in this town + sence Congressman Atkins pulled up his. 'What in the world, Cap'n + Whittaker,' says I to him, 'do you want of box hedges? Homely and stiff + and funeral lookin'! I might have 'em around my grave in the buryin' + ground,' I says, 'but nowheres else.' 'All right, Angie,' says he, 'you + shall have 'em there; I'll cut some slips purpose for you. It'll be a + pleasure,' he says. Now ain't that crazy talk for a grown man?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phinney was not the only one in our village to question Captain Cy + Whittaker's sanity during the next few months. The majority of our people + didn't understand him at all. He was generally liked, for although he had + money, he did not put on airs, but he had his own way of doing things, and + they were not Bayport ways. + </p> + <p> + True to his promise, he had a squad of carpenters busy, on the day + following his arrival, tearing down the loathed piazza. These carpenters, + and more, were kept busy throughout that entire spring and well into the + summer. Then came painters and gardeners. The piazza disappeared; a new + picket fence, exactly like the old one torn down by the Howeses, was + erected; new shutters were hung; new windowpanes were set; the roof was + newly shingled. Captain Cy, Senior, had, in his day, cherished a New + England fondness for white and green paint; therefore the new fence was + white and the house was white and the blinds a brilliant green. Rows of + box hedge, the plants brought from Boston, were set out on each side of + the front walk. The Howes front-door bell—a clamorous gong—was + removed, and a glass knob attached to a spring bell of the old-fashioned + “jingle” variety took its place. An old-fashioned flower garden—Cap'n + Cy's mother had loved posies—was laid out on the west lawn beyond + the pear trees. All these changes the captain superintended; when they + were complete he turned his attention to interior decoration. + </p> + <p> + And now Captain Cy proceeded to, literally, astonish the natives. Among + the Howes “improvements” were gilt wall papers and modern furniture for + the lower floor of the house. The furniture they had taken with them; the + wall paper had perforce been left behind. And the captain had every scrap + of that paper stripped from the walls, and the latter re-covered with + quaint, ugly, old-fashioned patterns, stripes and roses and flowered + sprays with impossible birds flitting among them. The Bassett decorators + has pasted the gilt improvement over the old Whittaker paper, and it was + the Whittaker paper that the captain did his best to match, sending + samples here, there, and everywhere in the effort. Then, upon the walls he + hung old-fashioned pictures, such as Bayport dwellers had long ago + relegated to their attics, pictures like “From Shore to Shore,” “Christian + Viewing the City Beautiful,” and “Signing the Declaration.” To these he + added, bringing them from the crowded garret of the homestead, oil + paintings of ships commanded by his father and grandfather, and family + portraits, executed—which is a peculiarly fitting word—by + deceased local artists in oil and crayon. + </p> + <p> + He boarded up the fireplace in the sitting room and installed a + base-burner stove, resurrected from the tinsmith's barn. He purchased a + full “haircloth set” of parlor furniture from old Mrs. Penniman, who never + had been known to sell any of her hoarded belongings before, even to the + “antiquers,” and wouldn't have done so now, had it not been that the + captain's offer was too princely to be real, and the old lady feared she + might be dreaming and would wake up before she received the money. And + from Trumet to Ostable he journeyed, buying a chair here and a table + there, braided rag mats from this one, and corded bedsteads and “rising + sun” quilts from that. At least half of Bayport believed with Gabe Lumley + and Miss Phinney that, if Captain Cy had not escaped from a home for the + insane, he was a likely candidate for such an institution. + </p> + <p> + At the table of the perfect boarding house the captain was not inclined to + be communicative regarding his reasons and his intentions. He was a prime + favorite there, praising Keturah's cooking, joking with Angeline + concerning what he was pleased to call her “giddy” manner of dressing and + wearing “side curls,” and telling yarns of South American dress and + behavior, which would probably have shocked Mrs. Tripp—she having + recently left the Methodist church to join the “Come-Outers,” because the + Sunday services of the former were, with the organ and a paid choir, + altogether “too play-actin'”—if they had not been so interesting, + and if Captain Cy had not always concluded them with the observation: “But + there! you can't expect nothin' more from ignorant critters denied the + privileges of congregational singin' and experience meetin's; hey, + Matilda?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Tripp would sigh and admit that she supposed not. + </p> + <p> + “Only I do wish Mr. Daniels, OUR minister, might have a chance to preach + over 'em, poor things!” + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” with a covert wink at Mrs. Bangs, who was a stanch adherent of + the regular faith. “South America 'd be just the place for him; ain't that + so, Keturah?” + </p> + <p> + He evaded all personal questions put to him by the boarders, explaining + that he was renovating the old place just for fun—he always had had + a gang of men working for him, and it seemed natural somehow. But to the + friends of his boyhood, Asaph Tidditt and Bailey Bangs, he told the real + truth. + </p> + <p> + “I swan to man!” exclaimed Bailey, almost tearfully, as the trio wandered + through the rooms of the Cy Whittaker place, dodging paper hangers and + plasterers; “I swan to man, Whit, if it don't almost seem as though I was + a boy again. Why! it's your dad's house come back alive, it is so! Look at + this settin' room! Seem's if I could see him now a-settin' by that ere + stove, and Mrs. Whittaker, your ma, over there a-sewin', and old Cap'n Cy—your + granddad—snoozin' in that big armchair—Why! why, whit! it's + the very image of the chair he always set in!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy laughed aloud. + </p> + <p> + “It's more n' that, Bailey,” he said; “it's THE chair. 'Twas up attic, all + busted and crippled, but I had it made over like new. And there's + granddad's picture, lookin' just as I remember him—only he wan't + quite so much of a frozen wax image as he's painted there. I'm goin' to + hang it where it always hung, over the mantelpiece, next to the lookin' + glass. + </p> + <p> + “Great land of love, boys!” he went on, “you fellers don't know what this + means to me. Many and many's the time I've had this old house and this old + room in my mind. I've seen 'em aboard ship in a howlin' gale off the Horn. + I've seen 'em down in Surinam of a hot night, when there wan't a breath + scurcely and the Caribs went around dressed in a handkerchief and a paper + cigar, and it made you wish you could. I've seen 'em—but there! + every time I've seen 'em I've swore that some day I'd come back and LIVE + 'em, and now, by the big dipper! here I am. Oh, I tell you, chummies, you + want to be fired OUT of a home and out of a town to appreciate 'em! Not + that I blame the old man; he and I was too much alike to cruise in + company. But Bayport I was born in, and in the Bayport graveyard they can + plant me when I'm ready for the scrap heap. It's in the blood and—Why, + see here! Don't I TALK like a Bayporter?” + </p> + <p> + “You sartin do!” replied Asaph emphatically. + </p> + <p> + “A body 'd think you'd been diggin' clams and pickin' cranberries in + Bassett's Holler all your life long, to hear you.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet! Well, that's pride; that's what that is. I prided myself on + hangin' to the Bayport twang through thick and thin. Among all the Spanish + 'Carambas' and 'Madre de Dioses' it did me good to come out with a good + old Yankee 'darn' once in a while. Kept me feelin' like a white man. Oh, + I'm a Whittaker! <i>I</i> know it. And I've got all the Whittaker + pig-headedness, I guess. And because the old man—bless his heart, I + say now—told me I shouldn't BE a Whittaker no more, nor live like a + Whittaker, I simply swore up and down I would be one and come back here, + when I'd made my pile, to heave anchor and stay one till I die. Maybe + that's foolishness, but it's me.” + </p> + <p> + He puffed vigorously at the pipe which had taken the place of the + Snowflake cigar, and added: + </p> + <p> + “Take this old settin' room—why, here it is; see! Here's dad in his + chair and ma in hers, and, if you go back far enough, granddad in his, + just as you say, Bailey. And here's me, a little shaver, squattin' on the + floor by the stove, lookin' at the pictures in a heap of Godey's Lady's + Book. And says dad, 'Bos'n,' he says—he used to call me 'Bos'n' in + those days—'Bos'n,' says dad, 'run down cellar and fetch me up a + pitcher of cider, that's a good feller.' Yes, yes; that's this room as + I've seen it in my mind ever since I tiptoed through it the night I run + away, with my duds in a bundle under my arm. Do you wonder I was fightin' + mad when I saw what that Howes tribe had done to it?” + </p> + <p> + Superintending the making over of the old home occupied most of Captain + Cy's daylight time that summer. His evenings were spent at Simmons's + store. We have no clubs in Bayport, strictly speaking, for the sewing + circle and the Shakespeare Reading Society are exclusively feminine in + membership; therefore Simmons's store is the gathering place of those + males who are bachelors or widowers or who are sufficiently free from + petticoat government to risk an occasional evening out. Asaph Tidditt was + a regular sojourner at the store. Bailey Bangs, happening in to purchase + fifty cents' worth of sugar or to have the molasses jug filled, lingered + occasionally, but not often. Captain Cy explained Bailey's absence in + characteristic fashion. + </p> + <p> + “Variety,” observed the captain, “is the spice of life. Bailey gets talk + enough to home. What's the use of his comin' up here to get more?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know,” said Josiah Dimick, with a grin, “we let him do some + of the talkin' himself up here. Down at the boardin' house Keturah and + Angie Phinney do it all.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Still, if a feller was condemned to live over a biler factory he + wouldn't hanker to get a job IN it, would he? When Bailey was a delegate + to the Methodist Conference up in Boston, him and a crowd visited the deef + and dumb asylum. When 'twas time to go, he was missin', and they found him + in the female ward lookin' at the inmates. Said that the sight of all them + women, every one of 'em not able to say a word, was the most wonderful + thing ever he laid eyes on. Said it made him feel kind of reverent and + holy, almost as if he was in Paradise. So Ase Tidditt says, anyway; it's + his yarn.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tain't nuther, Cy Whittaker!” declared the indignant Asaph. “If you + expect I'm goin' to father all your lies, you're mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + The crowd at Simmons's discuss politics, as a general thing; state and + national politics in their seasons, but county politics and local affairs + always. The question in Bayport that summer, aside from that of the harbor + appropriation, was who should be hired as downstairs teacher. Our + schoolhouse is a two-story building, with a schoolroom on each floor. The + lower room, where the little tots begin with their “C—A—T + Cat,” and progress until they have mastered the Fourth Reader, is called + “downstairs.” “Upstairs” is, of course, the second story, where the older + children are taught. To handle some of the “big boys” upstairs is a task + for a healthy man, and such a one usually fills the teacher's position + there. Downstairs being, in theory, at least, less strenuous, is presided + over by a woman. + </p> + <p> + Miss Seabury, who had been downstairs teacher for one lively term, had + resigned that spring in tears and humiliation. Her scholars had enjoyed + themselves and would have liked her to continue, but the committee and the + townspeople thought otherwise. There was a general feeling that enjoyment + was not the whole aim of education. + </p> + <p> + “Betty,” said Captain Dimick, referring to his small granddaughter, “has + done fust rate so fur's marksmanship and lung trainin' goes. I cal'late + she can hit a nail head ten foot off with a spitball three times out of + four, and she can whisper loud enough to be understood in Jericho. But, + not wishing to be unreasonable, still I should like to have her spell + 'door' without an 'e.' I've always been used to seein' it spelled that way + and—well, I'm kind of old-fashioned, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + There was a difference of opinion concerning Miss Seabury's successor. A + portion of the townspeople were for hiring a graduate of the State Normal + School, a young woman with modern training. Others, remembering that Miss + Seabury had graduated from that school, were for proved ability and less + up-to-date methods. These latter had selected a candidate in the person of + a Miss Phoebe Dawes, a resident of Wellmouth, and teacher of the Wellmouth + “downstairs” for some years. The arguments at Simmons's were hot ones. + </p> + <p> + “What's the use of hirin' somebody from right next door to us, as you + might say?” demanded Alpheus Smalley, clerk at the store. “Don't we want + our teachin' to be abreast of the times, and is Wellmouth abreast of + ANYthing?” + </p> + <p> + “It's abreast of the bay, that's about all, I will give in,” replied Mr. + Tidditt. “But, the way I look at it, we need disCIPline more 'n anything + else, and Phoebe Dawes has had the best disCIPline in her school, that's + been known in these latitudes. Order? Why, say! Eben Salters told me that + when he visited her room over there 'twas so still that he didn't dast to + rub one shoe against t'other, it sounded up so. He had to set still and + bear his chilblains best he could. And POPULAR! Why, when she hinted that + she might leave in May, her scholars more 'n ha'f of 'em, bust out cryin'. + Now you hear me, I—” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” put in Thaddeus Simpson, who ran the barber shop and was + something of a politician, “it seems to me, fellers, that we'd better wait + and hear what Mr. Atkins has to say in this matter. I guess that's what + the committee 'll do, anyhow. We wouldn't want to go contrary to Heman, + none of us; hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Tad” Simpson was known to be deep in Congressman Atkins's confidence. The + mention of the great man's name was received with reverence and nods of + approval. + </p> + <p> + “That's right. We mustn't do nothin' to displease Heman,” was the general + opinion. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy did not join the chorus. He refilled his pipe and crossed his + legs. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he grunted. “Heman Atkins seems to be—Give me a match, Ase, + won't you? Thanks. I understand there's a special prayer meetin' at the + church to-morrow night, Alpheus. What's it for?” + </p> + <p> + “For?” Mr. Smalley seemed surprised. “It's to pray for rain, that's what. + You know it, Cap'n, as well's I do. Ain't everybody's garden dryin' up and + the ponds so low that we shan't be able to get water for the cranberry + ditches pretty soon? There's need to pray, I should think!” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Seems a roundabout way of gettin' a thing, don't it? Why don't you + telegraph to Heman and ask him to fix it for you? Save time.” + </p> + <p> + This remark was received in horrified silence. Tad Simpson was the first + to recover. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n,” he said, “you ain't met Mr. Atkins yet. When you do, you'll feel + same as the rest of us. He's comin' home next week; then you'll see.” + </p> + <p> + A part at least of Mr. Simpson's prophecy proved true. The Honorable + Atkins did come to Bayport the following week, accompanied by his little + daughter Alicia, the housekeeper, and the Atkins servants. The Honorable + and his daughter had been, since the adjournment of Congress, on a + pleasure trip to the Yosemite and Yellowstone Park, and now they were to + remain in the mansion on the hill for some time. The big house was opened, + the stone urns burst into refulgent bloom, the iron dogs were refreshed + with a coat of black paint, and the big iron gate was swung wide. Bayport + sat up and took notice. Angeline Phinney was in her glory. + </p> + <p> + The meeting between Captain Cy and Mr. Atkins took place the morning after + the latter's return. The captain and his two chums had been inspecting the + progress made by the carpenters and were leaning over the new fence, then + just erected, but not yet painted. Down the gravel walk of the mansion + across the road came strolling its owner, silk-hatted, side-whiskered, + benignant. + </p> + <p> + “Godfrey!” exclaimed Asaph. “There's Heman. See him, Whit?” + </p> + <p> + “Yup, I see him. Seems to be headin' this way.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I do believe he's comin' across,” whispered Mr. Bangs. “Yes, he + is. He's real everyday, Cy. HE won't mind if you ain't dressed up.” + </p> + <p> + “Won't he? That's comfortin'. Well, I'll do the best I can without + stimulants, as the doctor says. If you hear my knees rattle just nudge me, + will you, Bailey?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt removed his hat. Bailey touched his. Captain Cy looked + provokingly indifferent; he even whistled. + </p> + <p> + “Good mornin', Mr. Atkins,” hailed the town clerk, raising his voice + because of the whistle. “I'm proud to see you back among us, sir. Hope you + and Alicia had a nice time out West. How is she—pretty smart?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins smiled a bland, congressional smile. He approached the group by + the fence and extended his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Asaph!” he said; “it is you then? I thought so. And Bailey, too. It + is certainly delightful to see you both again. Yes, my daughter is well, I + thank you. She, like her father, is glad to be back in the old home nest + after the round of hotel life and gayety which we have—er—recently + undergone. Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Atkins,” said Bailey, glancing nervously at Captain Cy, who had + stopped whistling and was regarding the Atkins hat and whiskers with an + interested air, “I want to make you acquainted with your new neighbor. You + used to know him when you was a boy, but—but—er—Mr. + Atkins, this is Captain Cyrus Whittaker. Cy, this is Congressman Atkins. + You've heard us speak of him.” + </p> + <p> + The great man started. + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible!” he exclaimed. “Is it possible that this is really my old + playmate Cyrus Whittaker?” + </p> + <p> + “Yup,” replied the captain calmly. “How are you, Heman? Fatter'n you used + to be, ain't you? Washin'ton must agree with you.” + </p> + <p> + Bailey and Asaph were scandalized. Mr. Atkins himself seemed a trifle + taken aback. Comments on his personal appearance were not usual in + Bayport. But he rallied bravely. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” he cried. “Cyrus, I am delighted to welcome you back among + us. I should scarcely have known you. You are older—yes, much + older.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, forty year more or less, added to what you started with, is apt to + make a feller some older. Don't need any Normal School graduate to do that + sum for us. I'm within seven or eight year of bein' as old as you are, + Heman, and that's too antique to be sold for veal.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + “I had heard of your return, Cyrus,” he said. “It gave me much pleasure to + learn that you were rebuilding and—er—renovating the—er—the + ancestral—er—” + </p> + <p> + “The old home nest? Yup, I'm puttin' back a few feathers. Old birds like + to roost comf'table. You've got a fairly roomy coop yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Isn't it—er—I should suppose you would find it rather + expensive. Can you—do you—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I can afford it, thank you. Maybe there'll be enough left in the + stockin' to buy a few knickknacks for the yard. You can't tell.” + </p> + <p> + The captain glanced at the iron dogs guarding the Atkins gate. His tone + was rather sharp. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, certainly; certainly; of course. It gives me much pleasure to + have you as a neighbor. I have always felt a fondness for the old place, + even when you allowed it—even when it was most—er—run + down, if you'll excuse the term. I always felt a liking for it and—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” was the significant interruption. “I judged you must have, from + what I heard.” + </p> + <p> + This was steering dangerously close to the selectmen and the contemplated + “sale for taxes.” The town clerk broke in nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Atkins,” he said, “there's been consider'ble talk in town about who's + to be teacher downstairs this comin' year. We've sort of chawed it over + among us, but naturally we wanted your opinion. What do you think? I'm + kind of leanin' toward the Dawes woman, myself.” + </p> + <p> + The Congressman cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + “Far be it from me,” he said, “to speak except as a mere member of our + little community, an ordinary member, but, AS such a member, with the + welfare of my birthplace very near and dear to me, I confess that I am + inclined to favor a modern teacher, one educated and trained in the + institution provided for the purpose by our great commonwealth. The Dawes—er—person + is undoubtedly worthy and capable in her way, but—well—er—we + know that Wellmouth is not Bayport.” + </p> + <p> + The reference to “our great commonwealth” had been given in the voice and + the manner wont to thrill us at our Fourth-of-July celebrations and + October “rallies.” Two of his hearers, at least, were visibly impressed. + Asaph looked somewhat crestfallen, but he surrendered gracefully to + superior wisdom. + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” he said. “That's so, ain't it, Cy? I hadn't thought of that.” + </p> + <p> + “What's so?” asked the captain. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, that Wellmouth ain't Bayport.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt of it. They're twenty miles apart.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Well, I'm glad to hear you put it so conclusive, Mr. Atkins. I can + see now that Phoebe wouldn't do. Hum! Yes.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins buttoned the frock coat and turned to go. + </p> + <p> + “Good day, gentlemen,” he said. “Cyrus, permit me once more to welcome you + heartily to our village. We—my daughter and myself—will + probably remain at home until the fall. I trust you will be a frequent + caller. Run in on us at any time. Pray do not stand upon ceremony.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Captain Cy shortly, “I won't.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right. That's right. Good morning.” + </p> + <p> + He walked briskly down the hill. The trio gazed after him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” sighed Mr. Tidditt. “That's settled. And it's a comfort to know + 'tis settled. Still I did kind of want Phoebe Dawes; but of course Heman + knows best.” + </p> + <p> + “Course he knows best!” snapped Bailey. “Ain't he the biggest gun in this + county, pretty nigh? I'd like to know who is if he ain't. The committee + 'll call the Normal School girl now, and a good thing, too.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was still gazing at the dignified form of the “biggest gun in + the county.” + </p> + <p> + “Let's see,” he asked. “Who's on the school committee? Eben Salters, of + course, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Eben's chairman and he'll vote Phoebe, anyhow; he's that pig-headed + that nobody—not even a United States Representative—could + change him. But Darius Ellis 'll be for Heman's way and so 'll Lemuel + Myrick. + </p> + <p> + “Lemuel Myrick? Lem Myrick, the painter?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin. There ain't but one Myrick in town.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum!” murmured the captain and was silent for some minutes. + </p> + <p> + The school committee met on the following Wednesday evening. On Thursday + morning a startling rumor spread throughout Bayport. Phoebe Dawes had been + called, by a vote of two to one, to teach the downstairs school. Asaph, + aghast, rushed out of Simmons's store and up to the hill to the Cy + Whittaker place. He found Captain Cy in the front yard. Mr. Myrick, school + committeeman and house painter, was with him. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Ase!” hailed the captain. “What's the matter? Hasn't the tide come + in this mornin'?” + </p> + <p> + Asaph, somewhat embarrassed by the presence of Mr. Myrick, hesitated over + his news. Lemuel came to his rescue. + </p> + <p> + “Ase has just heard that we called Phoebe,” he said. “What of it? I voted + for her, and I ain't ashamed of it.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but Mr. Atkins, he—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Heman ain't on the committee, is he? I vote the way I think right, + and no one in this town can change me. Anyway,” he added, “I'm going to + resign next spring. Yes, Cap'n Whittaker, I think three coats of white 'll + do on the sides here.” + </p> + <p> + “Lem's goin' to do my paintin' jobs,” explained Captain Cy. “His price was + a little higher than some of the other fellers, but I like his work.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt pondered deeply until dinner time. Then he cornered the + captain behind the Bangs barn and spoke with conviction. + </p> + <p> + “Whit,” he said, “you're the one responsible for the committee's hirin' + Phoebe Dawes. You offered Lem the paintin' job if he'd vote for her. What + did you do it for? You don't know her, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Never set eyes on her in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Then—then—You heard Heman say he wanted the other one. What + made you do it?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy grinned. + </p> + <p> + “Ase,” he said, “I've always been a great hand for tryin' experiments. Had + one of my cooks aboard put raisins in the flapjacks once, just to see what + they tasted like. I judged Heman had had his own way in this town for + thirty odd year. I kind of wanted to see what would happen if he didn't + have it.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + BAILEY BANGS'S EXPERIMENT + </h3> + <p> + Lemuel Myrick's painting jobs have the quality so prized by our village + small boys in the species of candy called “jaw breakers,” namely, that of + “lasting long.” But even Lem must finish sometime or other and, late in + July, the Cy Whittaker place was ready for occupancy. The pictures were in + their places on the walls, the old-fashioned furniture filled the rooms, + there was even a pile of old magazines, back numbers of Godey's Lady's + Book, on the shelf in the sitting room closet. + </p> + <p> + Then, when Captain Cy had notified Mrs. Bangs that the perfect boarding + house would shelter him no longer than the coming week, a new problem + arose. + </p> + <p> + “Whit,” said Asaph earnestly, “you've sartin made the place rise up out of + its tomb; you have so. It's a miracle, pretty nigh, and I cal'late it must + have cost a heap, but you've done it—all but the old folks + themselves. You can't raise them up, Cy; money won't do that. And you + can't live in this great house all alone. Who's goin' to cook for you, and + sweep and dust, and swab decks, and one thing a'nother? You'll have to + have a housekeeper, as I told you a spell ago. Have you done any thinkin' + about that?” + </p> + <p> + And the captain, taking his pipe from his lips, stared blankly at his + friend, and answered: + </p> + <p> + “By the big dipper, Ase, I ain't! I remember we did mention it, but I've + been so busy gettin' this craft off the ways that I forgot all about it.” + </p> + <p> + The discussion which followed Mr. Tidditt's reminder was long and serious. + Asaph and Bailey Bangs racked their brains and offered numerous + suggestions, but the majority of these were not favorably received. + </p> + <p> + “There's Matildy Tripp,” said Bailey. “She'd like the job, I'm sartin. + She's a widow, too, and she's had experience keepin' house along of + Tobias, him that was her husband. But, if you do hire her, don't let + Ketury know I hinted at it, 'cause we're goin' to lose one boarder when + you quit, and that's too many, 'cordin' to the old lady's way of + thinkin'.” + </p> + <p> + “You can keep Matildy, for all me,” replied the captain decidedly. + “Come-Outer religion's all right, for those that have that kind of + appetite, but havin' it passed to me three times a day, same as I've had + it at your house, is enough; I don't hanker to have it warmed over between + meals. If I shipped Matildy aboard here she and the Reverend Daniels would + stand over me, watch and watch, till I was converted or crazy, one or the + other.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's Angie. She—” + </p> + <p> + “Angie!” sniffed Mr. Tidditt. “Stop your jokin', Bailey. This is a serious + matter.” + </p> + <p> + “I wan't jokin'. What—” + </p> + <p> + “There! there! boys,” interrupted the captain; “don't fight. Bailey didn't + mean to joke, Ase; he's full of what the papers call 'unconscious humor.' + I'll give in that Angie is about as serious a matter as I can think of + without settin' down to rest. Humph! so fur we haven't gained any knots to + speak of. Any more candidates on your mind?” + </p> + <p> + More possibilities were mentioned, but none of them seemed to fill the + bill. The conference broke up without arriving at a decision. Mr. Bangs + and the town clerk walked down the hill together. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Bailey,” said Asaph, “the way I look at it, this pickin' out + a housekeeper for Whit ain't any common job. It's somethin' to think over. + Cy's a restless critter; been cruisin' hither and yon all his life. I'm + sort of scared that he'll get tired of Bayport and quit if things here + don't go to suit him. Now if a real good nice woman—a nice LOOKIN' + woman, say—was to keep house for him it—it—” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I mean—that is, don't you s'pose if some such woman as that + was to be found for the job he might in time come to like her and—and—er—” + </p> + <p> + “Ase Tidditt, what are you drivin' at?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I mean he might come to marry her; there! Then he'd be contented to + settle down to home and stay put. What do you think of the idea?” + </p> + <p> + “Think of it? I think it's the dumdest foolishness ever I heard. I declare + if the very mention of a woman to some of you old baches don't make your + heads soften up like a jellyfish in the sun! Ain't Cy Whittaker got money? + Ain't he got a nice home? Ain't he happy?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is now, I s'pose, but—” + </p> + <p> + “WELL, then! And you want him to get married! What do you know about + marryin'? Never tried it, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Course I ain't! You know I ain't.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Then I'd keep quiet about such things, if I was you.” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't fly up like a settin' hen. Everybody's wife ain't—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped in the middle of the sentence. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” demanded his companion, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Nothin'; nothin'. <i>I</i> don't care; I was only tryin' to fix things + comf'table for Whit. Has Heman said anything about the harbor + appropriation sence he's been home? I haven't heard of it if he has.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs's answer was a grunt, signifying a negative. Congressman Atkins + had been, since his return to Bayport, exceedingly noncommittal concerning + the appropriation. To Tad Simpson and a very few chosen lieutenants and + intimates he had said that he hoped to get it; that was all. This was a + disquieting change of attitude, for, at the beginning of the term just + passed, he had affirmed that he was GOING to get it. However, as Mr. + Simpson reassuringly said: “The job's in as good hands as can be, so + what's the use of OUR worryin'?” + </p> + <p> + Bailey Bangs certainly was not troubled on that score; but the town + clerk's proposal that Captain Cy be provided with a suitable wife did + worry him. Bailey was so very much married himself and had such decided, + though unspoken, views concerning matrimony that such a proposal seemed to + him lunacy, pure and simple. He had liked and admired his friend “Whit” in + the old days, when the latter led them into all sorts of boyish scrapes; + now he regarded him with a liking that was close to worship. The captain + was so jolly and outspoken; so brave and independent—witness his + crossing of the great Atkins in the matter of the downstairs teacher. That + was a reckless piece of folly which would, doubtless, be rewarded after + its kind, but Bailey, though he professed to condemn it, secretly wished + he had the pluck to dare such things. As it was, he didn't dare contradict + Keturah. + </p> + <p> + With the exception of one voyage as cabin boy to New Orleans, a voyage + which convinced him that he was not meant for a seaman, Mr. Bangs had + never been farther from his native village than Boston. Captain Cy had + been almost everywhere and seen almost everything. He could spin yarns + that beat the serial stories in the patent inside of the Bayport Breeze + all hollow. Bailey had figured that, when the “fixin' over” was ended, the + Cy Whittaker place would be for him a delightful haven of refuge, where he + could put his boots on the furniture, smoke until dizzy without being + pounced upon, be entertained and thrilled with tales of adventure afloat + and ashore, and even express his own opinion, when he had any, with the + voice and lung power of a free-born American citizen. + </p> + <p> + And now Asaph Tidditt, who should know better, even though he was a + bachelor, wanted to bring a wife into this paradise; not a paid domestic + who could be silenced, or discharged, if she became a nuisance, but a + WIFE! Bailey guessed not; not if he could prevent it. + </p> + <p> + So he lay awake nights thinking of possible housekeepers for Captain Cy, + and carefully rejecting all those possessing dangerous attractions of any + kind. Each morning, after breakfast, he ran over the list with the + captain, taking care that Asaph was not present. Captain Cy, who was very + busy with the finishing touches at the new old house, wearied on the third + morning. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Bailey!” he said. “Don't bother me now. I've got other + things on my mind. How do I know who all these women folks are you're + stringing off to me? Let me alone, do.” + </p> + <p> + “But you must have a housekeeper, Cy. You'll move in Monday and you won't + have nobody to—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dry up! I want to think who I must see this morning. There's Lem and + old lady Penniman, and—” + </p> + <p> + “But the housekeeper, Cy! Don't you see—” + </p> + <p> + “Hire one yourself, then. You know 'em; I don't.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Hire one myself? Do you mean you'll leave it in my hands?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes! I guess so. Run along, that's a good feller.” + </p> + <p> + He departed hurriedly. Mr. Bangs scratched his head. A weighty + responsibility had been laid upon him. + </p> + <p> + Monday morning after breakfast Captain Cy's trunk was put aboard the depot + wagon, and Dan'l Webster drew it to its owner's home. The farewells at the + perfect boarding house were affecting. Mrs. Tripp said that she had spoken + to the Reverend Mr. Daniels, and he would be sure to call the very first + thing. Keturah affirmed that the captain's stay had been a real pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “You never find fault, Cap'n Whittaker,” she said. “You're such a manly + man, if you'll excuse my sayin' so. I only wish there was more like you,” + with a significant glance at her husband. As for Miss Phinney, she might + have been saying good-by yet if the captain had not excused himself. + </p> + <p> + Asaph accompanied his friend to the house on the hill. The trunk was + unloaded from the wagon and carried into the bedroom on the first floor, + the room which had been Captain Cy's so long ago. Gabe shrieked at Dan'l + Webster, and the depot wagon crawled away toward the upper road. + </p> + <p> + “Got to meet the up train,” grumbled the driver. “Not that anybody ever + comes on it, but I cal'late I'm s'posed to be there. Be more talk than a + little if I wan't. Git dap, Dan'l! you're slower'n the moral law.” + </p> + <p> + “So you're goin' to do your own cookin' for a spell, Cy?” observed Asaph, + a half hour later, “Well, I guess that's a good idea, till you can find + the right housekeeper. I ain't been able to think of one that would suit + you yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I, either. Neither's Bailey, I judge, though for a while he was as + full of suggestions as a pine grove is of woodticks. He started to say + somethin' about it to me last night, but Ketury hove in sight and yanked + him off to prayer meetin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. She cal'lates to get him into heaven somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess 'twouldn't BE heaven for her unless he was round to pick at. + There he comes now. How'd he get out of wipin' dishes?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs strolled into the yard. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” he hailed. “I was on my way to Simmons's on an errand and I + thought I'd stop in a minute. Got somethin' to tell you, Whit.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Overboard with it! It won't keep long this hot weather.” + </p> + <p> + Bailey smiled knowingly. “Didn't I hear the up train whistle as I was + comin' along?” he asked. “Seems to me I did. Yes; well, if I ain't + mistaken somebody's comin' on that train. Somebody for you, Cy Whittaker.” + </p> + <p> + “Somebody for ME?” + </p> + <p> + “Um—hum! I can gen'rally be depended on, I cal'late, and when you + says to me: 'Bailey, you get me a housekeeper,' I didn't lose much time. I + got her.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt gasped. + </p> + <p> + “GOT her?” he repeated. “Got who? Got what? Bailey Bangs, what in the + world have—” + </p> + <p> + “Belay, Ase!” ordered Captain Cy. “Bailey, what are you givin' us?” + </p> + <p> + “Givin' you a housekeeper, and a good one, too, I shouldn't wonder. She + may not be one of them ten-thousand-dollar prize museum beauties,” with a + scornful wink at Asaph, “but if what I hear's true she can keep house. + Anyhow she's kept one for forty odd year. Her name's Deborah Beasley, + she's a widow over to East Trumet, and if I don't miss my guess, she's in + the depot wagon now headed in this direction.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy whistled. Mr. Tidditt was too much surprised to do even that. + </p> + <p> + “I was speakin' to the feller that drives the candy cart,” continued + Bailey, “and I asked him if he'd run acrost anybody, durin' his trips + 'round the country, who'd be likely to hire out for a housekeeper. He + thought a spell and then named over some. Among 'em was this Beasley one. + I asked some more questions and, the answers bein' satisfactory to ME, + though they might not be to some folks—” another derisive wink at + Asaph—“I set down and wrote her, tellin' what you'd pay, Cy, what + she'd have to do, and when she'd have to come. Saturday night I got a + letter, sayin' terms was all right, and she'd be on hand by this mornin's + train. Course she's only on trial for a month, but you had to have + SOMEBODY, and the candy-cart feller said—” + </p> + <p> + The town clerk slapped his knee. + </p> + <p> + “Debby Beasley!” he cried. “I know who she is! I've got a cousin in + Trumet. Debby Beasley! Aunt Debby, they call her. Why! she's old enough to + be Methusalem's grandmarm, and—” + </p> + <p> + “If I recollect right,” interrupted Bailey, with dignity, “Cy never said + he wanted a YOUNG woman—a frivolous, giddy critter, always riggin' + up and chasin' the fellers. He wanted a sot, sober housekeeper.” + </p> + <p> + “Godfrey! Aunt Debby ain't frivolous! She couldn't chase a lame clam—and + catch it. And DEEF! Godfrey—scissors! she's deefer 'n one of them + cast-iron Newfoundlands in Heman's yard! Do you mean to say, Bailey Bangs, + that you went ahead, on your own hook, and hired that old relic to—” + </p> + <p> + “I did. And I had my authority, didn't I, Whit? You told me you'd leave it + in my hands, now didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + The captain smiled somewhat ruefully, and scratched his head. “Why, to be + honest, Bailey, I believe I did,” he admitted. “Still, I hardly expected—Humph! + is she deef, as Ase says?” + </p> + <p> + “I understand she's a little mite hard of hearin',” replied Mr. Bangs, + with dignity; “but that ain't any drawback, the way I look at it. Fact is, + I'd call it an advantage, but you folks seem to be hard to please. I + ruther imagined you'd thank me for gettin' her, but I s'pose that was too + much to expect. All right, pitch her out! Don't mind MY feelin's! Poor + homeless critter comin' to—” + </p> + <p> + “Homeless!” repeated Asaph. “What's that got to do with it? Cy ain't + runnin' the Old Woman's Home.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” observed the captain resignedly. “There's no use in rowin' + about what can't be helped. Bailey says he shipped her for a month's + trial, and here comes the depot wagon now. That's her on the aft thwart, I + judge. She AIN'T what you'd call a spring pullet, is she!” + </p> + <p> + She certainly was not. The occupant of the depot wagon's rear seat was a + thin, not to say scraggy, female, wearing a black, beflowered bonnet and a + black gown. A black knit shawl was draped about her shoulders and she wore + spectacles. + </p> + <p> + “Whoa!” commanded Mr. Lumley, piloting the depot wagon to the side door of + the Whittaker house. Dan'l Webster came to anchor immediately. Gabe turned + and addressed his passenger. + </p> + <p> + “Here we be!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” observed the lady in black. + </p> + <p> + “Here—we—be!” repeated Gabe, raising his voice. + </p> + <p> + “See? See what?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, heavens to Betsey! I'm gettin' the croup from howlin'. I—say—HERE—WE—BE! + GET OUT!” + </p> + <p> + He accompanied the final bellow with an expressive pantomime indicating + that the passenger was expected to alight. She seemed to understand, for + she opened the door of the carriage and slowly descended. Mr. Bangs + advanced to meet her. + </p> + <p> + “How d'ye do, Mrs. Beasley!” he said. “Glad to see you all safe and + sound.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beasley shook his hand; hers were covered, as far as the knuckles, by + black mitts. + </p> + <p> + “How d'ye do, Cap'n Whittaker?” she said, in a shrill voice. “You pretty + smart?” + </p> + <p> + Bailey hastened to explain. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't Cap'n Whittaker,” he roared. “I'm Bailey Bangs, the one that + wrote to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lumley and Asaph chuckled. Bailey colored and tried again. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't the cap'n,” he whooped. “Here he is—here!” + </p> + <p> + He led her over to her prospective employer and tapped the latter on the + chest. + </p> + <p> + “How d'ye do, sir?” said the housekeeper. “I don't know's I just caught + your name.” + </p> + <p> + In five minutes or so the situation was made reasonably clear. Mrs. + Beasley then demanded her trunk and carpet bag. The grinning Lumley bore + them into the house. Then he drove away, still grinning. Bailey looked + fearfully at Captain Cy. + </p> + <p> + “She IS kind of hard of hearin', ain't she?” he said reluctantly. “You + remember I said she was.” + </p> + <p> + The captain nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered, “you're a truth-tellin' chap, Bailey, I'll say that + for you. You don't exaggerate your statements.” + </p> + <p> + “Hard of hearin'!” snapped Mr. Tidditt. “If the last trump ain't a steam + whistle she'll miss Judgment Day. I'll stop into Simmons's on my way along + and buy you a bottle of throat balsam, Cy; you're goin' to need it.” + </p> + <p> + The captain needed more than throat balsam during the fortnight which + followed. The widow Beasley's deafness was not her only failing. In fact + she was altogether a failure, so far as her housekeeping was concerned. + She could cook, after a fashion, but the fashion was so limited that even + the bill of fare at the perfect boarding house looked tempting in + retrospect. + </p> + <p> + “Baked beans again, Cy!” exclaimed Asaph, dropping in one evening after + supper. “'Tain't Saturday night so soon, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” was the dismal rejoinder. “It's Tuesday, if my almanac ain't out of + joint. But we had beans Saturday and they ain't all gone yet, so I presume + we'll have 'em till the last one's swallowed. Aunt Debby's got what the + piece in the Reader used to call a 'frugal mind.' She don't intend to + waste anything. Last Thursday I spunked up courage enough to yell for salt + fish and potatoes—fixed up with pork scraps, you know, same's we + used to have when I was a boy. We had 'em all right, and if beans of a + Saturday hadn't been part of her religion we'd be warmin' 'em up yet. I + took in a cat for company 'tother day, but the critter's run away. To see + it look at the beans in its saucer and then at me was pitiful; I felt like + handin' myself over to the Cruelty to Animals' folks.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she neat?” inquired Mr. Tidditt. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. I guess so—on the installment plan. It takes her a + week to scrub up the kitchen, and then one end of it is so dirty she has + to begin again. Consequently the dust is so thick in the rest of the house + that I can see my tracks. If 'twan't so late in the season I'd plant + garden stuff in the parlor—nice soil and lots of shade, with the + curtains down.” + </p> + <p> + From the rooms in the rear came the words of a gospel hymn sung in a + tremulous soprano and at concert pitch. + </p> + <p> + “Music with my meals, just like a high-toned restaurant,” commented + Captain Cy. + </p> + <p> + “But what makes her sing so everlastin' LOUD?” + </p> + <p> + “Can't hear herself if she don't. I could stand her deefness, because + that's an affliction and we may all come to it; but—” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper, still singing, entered the room and planted herself in a + chair. + </p> + <p> + “Good evenin', Mr. Tidditt,” she said, smiling genially. “Nice weather + we've been havin'.” + </p> + <p> + Asaph nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Sociable critter, ain't she!” observed the captain. “Always willin' to + help entertain. Comes and sets up with me till bedtime. Tells about her + family troubles. Preaches about her niece out West, and how set the niece + and the rest of the Western relations are to have her make 'em a visit. I + told her she better go—I thought 'twould do her good. I know 'twould + help ME consider'ble to see her start. + </p> + <p> + “She's got so now she finds fault with my neckties,” he added, “says I + must be careful and not get my feet wet. Picks out what I ought to wear + so's I won't get cold. She'll adopt me pretty soon. Oh, it's all right! + She can't hear what you say. Are your dishes done?” he shrieked, turning + to the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “One? One what?” inquired Mrs. Beasley. + </p> + <p> + “They won't BE done till you go, Ase,” continued the master of the house. + “She'll stay with us till the last gun fires. T'other day Angie Phinney + called and I turned Debby loose on her. I didn't believe anything could + wear out Angie's talkin' machinery, but she did it. Angeline stayed twenty + minutes and then quit, hoarse as a crow.” + </p> + <p> + Here the widow joined in the conversation, evidently under the impression + that nothing had been said since she last spoke. Continuing her favorable + comments on the weather she observed that she was glad there was so little + fog, because fog was hard for folks with “neuralgy pains.” Her brother's + wife's cousin had “neuralgy” for years, and she described his sufferings + with enthusiasm and infinite detail. Mr. Tidditt answered her questions + verbally at first; later by nods and shakes of the head. Captain Cy + fidgeted in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Come on outdoor, Ase,” he said at last. “No use to wait till she runs + down, 'cause she's a self-winder, guaranteed to keep goin' for a year. + Good-night!” he shouted, addressing Mrs. Beasley, and heading for the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Where you goin'?” asked the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “No. Yes. Who said so? Hooray! Three cheers for Gen'ral Scott! Come on, + Ase!” And the captain, seizing his friend by the arm, dragged him into the + open air, and slammed the door. + </p> + <p> + “Are you crazy?” demanded the astonished town clerk. “What makes you talk + like that?” + </p> + <p> + “Might as well. She wouldn't understand it any better if 'twas Scripture, + and it saves brain work. The only satisfaction I get is bein' able to give + my opinion of her and the grub without hurtin' her feelin's. If I called + her a wooden-headed jumpin' jack she'd only smile and say No, she didn't + think 'twas goin' to rain, or somethin' just as brilliant.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, why don't you give her her walkin' papers?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall, when her month's up.” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't wait no month. I'd heave her overboard to-night. You hear ME!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I can't, very well,” he replied. “I hate to make her feel TOO bad. When + the month's over I'll have some excuse ready, maybe. The joke of it is + that she don't really need to work out. She's got some money of her own, + owns cranberry swamps and I don't know what all. Says she took up Bailey's + offer 'cause she cal'lated I'd be company for her. I had to laugh, even in + the face of those beans, when she said that.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! if I don't tell Bailey what I think of him, then—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! Don't you say a word to Bailey. It's principally on his account + that I'm tryin' to stick it out for the month. Bailey did his best; he + thought he was helpin'. And he feels dreadfully because she's so deef. + Only yesterday he asked me if I believed there was anything made that + would fix her up and make it more comfortable for me. I could have + prescribed a shotgun, but I didn't. You see, he thinks her deefness is the + only trouble; I haven't told him the rest, and don't you do it, either. + Bailey's a good-hearted chap.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! his heart may be good, but his head's goin' to seed. I'll keep + quiet if 'twill please you, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And, see here, Ase! I don't care to be the laughin' stock of + Bayport. If any of the folks ask you how I like my new housekeeper, you + tell 'em there's nothin' like her anywhere. That's no lie.” + </p> + <p> + So Mrs. Beasley stayed on at the Whittaker place and, thanks to Mr. + Tidditt, the general opinion of inquisitive Bayport was that the new + housekeeper was a grand success. Only Captain Cy and Asaph knew the whole + truth, and Mr. Bangs a part. That part, Deborah's deafness, troubled him + not a little and he thought much concerning it. As a result of this + thinking he wrote a letter to a relative in Boston. The answer to this + letter pleased him and he wrote again. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon, during the third week of Mrs. Beasley's stay, Asaph called + and found Captain Cy in the sitting room, reading the Breeze. The captain + urged his friend to remain and have supper. “We've run out of beans, Ase,” + he explained, “and are just startin' in on a course of boiled cod. Do stay + and eat a lot; then there won't be so much to warm over.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt accepted the invitation, also a section of the Breeze. While + they were reading they heard the back door slam. + </p> + <p> + “It's the graven image,” explained the captain. “She's been on a cruise + down town somewheres. Be a lot of sore throats in that direction to-morrow + mornin'.” + </p> + <p> + The town clerk looked up. + </p> + <p> + “There now!” he exclaimed. “I believe 'twas her I saw walkin' with Bailey + a spell ago. I thought so, but I didn't have my specs and I wan't sure.” + </p> + <p> + “With Bailey, hey? Humph! this is serious. Hope Ketury didn't see 'em. We + mustn't have any scandal.” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper entered the dining room. She was singing “Beulah Land,” + but her tone was more subdued than usual. They heard her setting the + table. + </p> + <p> + “How's she gettin' along?” asked Asaph. + </p> + <p> + “Progressin' backwards, same as ever. She's no better, thank you, and the + doctor's given up hopes.” + </p> + <p> + “When you goin' to tell her she can clear out?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” Captain Cy had returned to his paper and did not hear the + question. + </p> + <p> + “I say when is she goin' to be bounced? Deefness ain't catchin', is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't wonder if it might be. If 'tis, mine ought to be developin' + fast. What makes her so still all at once?” + </p> + <p> + “Gone to the kitchen, I guess. Wonder she hasn't sailed in and set down + with us. Old chromo! You must be glad her month's most up?” + </p> + <p> + Asaph proceeded to give his opinion of the housekeeper, raising his voice + almost to a howl, as his indignation grew. If Mrs. Beasley's ears had been + ordinary ones she might have heard the unflattering description in the + kitchen; as it was Mr. Tidditt felt no fear. + </p> + <p> + “Comin' here so's you could be company for her! The idea! Good to herself, + ain't she! Godfrey scissors! And Bailey was fool enough to—” + </p> + <p> + “There, there! Don't let it worry you, Ase. I've about decided what to say + when I let her go. I'll tell her she is gettin' too old to be slavin' + herself to death. You see, I don't want to make the old critter cry, nor I + don't want her to get mad. Judgin' by the way she used to coax the cat + outdoors with the broom handle she's got somethin' of a temper when she + gets started. I'll give her an extry month's wages, and—” + </p> + <p> + “You will, hey? You WILL?” + </p> + <p> + The interruption came from behind the partially closed dining-room door. + Mr. Tidditt sank back in his chair. Captain Cy sprang from his and threw + the door wide open. Behind it crouched Mrs. Deborah Beasley. Her eyes + snapped behind her spectacles, her lean form was trembling all over, and + in her right hand she held a mammoth trumpet, the smaller end of which was + connected with her ear. + </p> + <p> + “You will, hey?” she screamed, brandishing her left fist, but still + keeping the ear trumpet in place with her right. “You WILL? Well, I don't + want none of your miser'ble money! Land knows how you made it, anyhow, and + I wouldn't soil my hands with it. After all I've put up with, and the way + I've done my work, and the things I've had to eat, and—and—” + </p> + <p> + She paused for breath. Captain Cy scratched his chin. Asaph, gazing + open-mouthed at the trumpet, stirred in his chair. Mrs. Beasley swooped + down upon him like a gull on a minnow. + </p> + <p> + “And you!” she shrieked. “You! a miserable little, good-for-nothin', lazy, + ridiculous, dried-up— . . . Oo—oo—OH! You call yourself + a town clerk! YOU do! I—I wouldn't have you clerk for a hen house! + I'm an old chromo, be I? Yes! that's nice talk, ain't it, to a woman old + enough to be—that is—er—er—'most as old as you be! + You sneakin', story-tellin', little, fat THING, you! You—oh, I can't + lay my tongue to words to tell you WHAT you are.” + </p> + <p> + “You're doin' pretty well, seems to me,” observed Captain Cy dryly. “I + wouldn't be discouraged if I was you.” + </p> + <p> + The only effect of this remark was to turn the wordy torrent in his + direction. The captain bore it for a while; then he rose to his feet and + commanded silence. + </p> + <p> + “That's enough! Stop it!” he ordered, and, strange to say, Mrs. Beasley + did stop. “I'm sorry, Debby,” he went on, “but you had no business to be + listenin' even if—” and he smiled grimly, “you have got a new fog + horn to hear with. You can go and pack your things as soon as you want to. + I made up my mind the first day you come that you and me wouldn't cruise + together long, and this only shortens the trip by a week or so. I'll pay + you for this month and for the next, and I guess, when you come to think + it over, you'll be willin' to risk soilin' your hands with the money. It's + your own fault if anybody knows that you didn't leave of your own accord. + <i>I</i> shan't tell, and I'll see that Tidditt doesn't. Now trot! Ase and + I'll get supper ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + It was evident that the ex-housekeeper had much more which she would have + liked to say. But there was that in her late employer's manner which + caused her to forbear. She slammed out of the room, and they heard her + banging things about on the floor above. + </p> + <p> + “But where—WHERE,” repeated Mr. Tidditt, over and over, “did she get + that trumpet?” + </p> + <p> + The puzzle was solved soon after, when Bailey Bangs entered the house in a + high state of excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he demanded, expectantly. “Did they help her? Has anything + happened?” + </p> + <p> + “HAPPENED!” began Asaph, but Captain Cy silenced him by a wink. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered the captain; “something's happened. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah! I thought 'twould. She can hear better, can't she?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I guess it's safe to say she can.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! You can thank me for it. When I see how dreadful deef she was I + wrote my cousin Eddie T, who's an optician up to Boston—you know + him, Ase—and I says: 'Ed, you know what's good for folks who can't + see? Ain't there nothin',' says I, 'that'll help them who can't hear? How + about ear trumpets?' And Ed wrote that an ear trumpet would probably help + some, but why didn't I try a pair of them patent fixin's that are made to + put inside deef people's ears? He'd known of cases where they helped a + lot. So I sent for a pair, and the biggest ear trumpet made, besides. And + when I met Debby to-day I give 'em to her and told her to put the patent + things IN her ears and couple on the trumpet outside 'em. And not to say + nothin' to you, but just surprise you. And it did surprise you, didn't + it?” + </p> + <p> + The wrathful Mr. Tidditt could wait no longer. He burst into a vivid + description of the “surprise.” Bailey was aghast. Captain Cy laughed until + his face was purple. + </p> + <p> + “I declare, Cy!” exclaimed the dejected purchaser of the “ear fixin's” and + the trumpet. “I do declare I'm awful sorry! if you'd only told me she was + no good I'd have let her alone; but I thought 'twas just the deefness. I—I—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, Bailey; you meant well, like the layin'-on-of-hands doctor who + rubbed the rheumatic man's wooden leg. All right; <i>I</i> forgive you. + 'Twas worth it all to see Asaph's face when Marm Beasley was complimentin' + him. Ha! ha! Oh, dear me! I've laughed till I'm sore. But there's one + thing I SHOULD like to do, if you don't mind: I should like to pick out my + next housekeeper myself.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + A FRONT-DOOR CALLER + </h3> + <p> + Mrs. Beasley departed next morning, taking with her the extra month's + wages, in spite of fervid avowals that she wouldn't touch a cent of it. On + the way to the depot she favored Mr. Lumley with sundry hints concerning + the reasons for her departure. She “couldn't stand it no longer”; if folks + only knew what she'd had to put up with she cal'lated they'd be some + surprised; she could “tell a few things” if she wanted to, and so on. + Incidentally she was kind of glad she didn't like the place, because now + she cal'lated she should go West and visit her niece; they'd been wanting + her to come for so long. + </p> + <p> + Gabe was much interested and repeated the monologue, with imaginative + additions, to the depot master, who, in turn, repeated it to his wife when + he went home to dinner. That lady attended sewing circle in the afternoon. + Next day a large share of Bayport's conversation dealt with the + housekeeper's leaving and her reasons therefor. The reasons differed + widely, according to the portion of the town in which they were discussed, + but it was the general opinion that the whole affair was not creditable to + Captain Whittaker. + </p> + <p> + Only at the perfect boarding house was the captain upheld. Miss Phinney + declared that she knew he had made a mistake as soon as she heard the + Beasley woman talk; nobody else, so Angeline declared, could “get a word + in edgeways.” Mrs. Tripp sighed and affirmed that going out of town for a + woman to do housework was ridiculous on the face of it; there were plenty + of Bayport ladies, women of capability and sound in their religious views, + who might be hired if they were approached in the right way. Keturah gave, + as her opinion, that if the captain knew when he was well off, he would + “take his meals out.” Asaph snorted and intimated that that Debby Beasley + wasn't fit to “keep house in a pigsty, and anybody but a born gump would + have known it.” Bailey, the “born gump,” said nothing, but looked + appealingly at his chum. + </p> + <p> + As for Captain Cy, he did not take the trouble to affirm or deny the + rumors. Peace and quiet dominated the Whittaker house for the first time + in three weeks and its owner was happier. He cooked his own food and + washed his own dishes. The runaway cat ventured to return, found other + viands than beans in its saucer, and decided to remain, purring thankful + contentment. The captain made his own bed, after a fashion, when he was + ready to occupy it, but he was conscious that it might be better made. He + refused, however, to spend his time in sweeping and dusting, and the dust + continued to accumulate on the carpets and furniture. This condition of + affairs troubled him, but he kept his own counsel. Asaph and Bailey called + often, but they offered no more suggestions as to hiring a housekeeper. + Mr. Tidditt might have done so, but the captain gave him no encouragement. + Mr. Bangs, recent humiliation fresh in his mind, would as soon have + suggested setting the house on fire. + </p> + <p> + One evening Asaph happened in, on his way to Simmons's. He desired the + captain to accompany him to that gathering place of the wise and + talkative. Captain Cy was in the sitting room, a sheet of note paper in + his hand. The town clerk entered without ceremony and tossed his hat on + the sofa. + </p> + <p> + “Evenin', Ase,” observed the captain, folding the sheet of paper and + putting it into his pocket. “Glad you come. Sit down. I wanted to ask you + somethin'.” + </p> + <p> + “All right! Here I be. Heave ahead and ask.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy puffed at his pipe. He seemed about to speak and then to think + better of it, for he crossed his legs and smoked on in silence, gazing at + the nickel work of the “base-burner” stove. It was badly in need of + polishing. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” inquired Asaph, with impatient sarcasm. “Thinkin' of askin' me to + build a fire for you, was you? Nobody else but you would have set up a + stove in summer time, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? No, you needn't start a fire yet awhile. That necktie of yours 'll + keep us warm till fall, I shouldn't wonder. New one, ain't it? Where'd you + get it?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt was wearing a crocheted scarf of a brilliant crimson hue, + particularly becoming to his complexion. The complexion now brightened + until it was almost a match for the tie. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he said, with elaborate indifference. “That? Yes, it's new. + Yesterday was my birthday, and Matildy Tripp she knew I needed a necktie, + so she give me this one.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! One she knit purpose for you, then? Dear me! Look out, Ase. Widow + women are dangerous, they say; presents are one of the first baits they + heave out.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be foolish, now! I couldn't chuck it back at her, could I? That + would be pretty manners. You needn't talk about widders—not after + Debby! Ho! ho!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy chuckled. Then he suddenly became serious. + </p> + <p> + “Ase,” he said, “you remember the time when the Howes folks had this + house? Course you do. Yes; well, was there any of their relations here + with 'em? A—a cousin, or somethin'?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not as I recollect. Yes, there was, too, come to think. A third + cousin, Mary Thayer her name was. I THINK she was a third cousin of Betsy + Howes, Seth Howes's second wife. Betsy's name was Ginn afore she married, + and the Ginns was related on their ma's side to a Richards—Emily + Richards, I think 'twas—and Emily married a Thayer. Would that make + this Mary a third cousin? Now let's see; Sarah Jane Ginn, she had an aunt + who kept a boardin' house in Harniss. I remember that, 'count of her + sellin' my Uncle Bije a pig. Seems to me 'twas a pig, but I ain't sure + that it mightn't have been a settin' of Plymouth Rock hens' eggs. Anyhow, + Uncle Bije KEPT hens, because I remember one time—” + </p> + <p> + “There! there! we'll be out of sight of land in a minute. This Mary Thayer—old, + was she?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! Just a young girl, eighteen or twenty or so. Pretty and nice and + quiet as ever I see. By Godfrey, she WAS pretty! I wan't as old as I be + now, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Ase, don't tell your heart secrets, even to me. I might get absent-minded + and mention 'em to Matildy. And then—whew!” + </p> + <p> + “If you don't stop tryin' to play smarty I'll go home. What's Matildy + Tripp to me, I'd like to know? And even when Mary Thayer was here I was + old enough to be her dad. But I remember what a nice girl she was and how + the boarders liked her. They used to say she done more than all the Howes + tribe put together to make the Sea Sight House a good hotel. Young as she + was she done most of the housekeepin' and done it well. If the rest of 'em + had been like her you mightn't have had the place yet, Whit. But what set + you to thinkin' about her?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know! Nothin' much; that is—well, I'll tell you some + other time. What became of her?” + </p> + <p> + “She went up to New Hampshire along with the Howes folks and I ain't seen + her since. Seems to me I did hear she was married. See here, Whit, what is + it about her? Tell a feller; come!” + </p> + <p> + But Captain Cy refused to gratify his chum's lively curiosity. Also he + refused to go to Simmons's that evening, saying that he was tired and + guessed he'd stay at home and “turn in early.” Mr. Tidditt departed + grumbling. After he had gone the captain drew his chair nearer the center + table, took from his pocket a sheet of notepaper, and proceeded to read + what was written on its pages. It was a letter which he had received + nearly a month before and had not yet answered. During the past week he + had read it many times. The writing was cramped and blotted and the paper + cheap and dingy. The envelope bore the postmark of a small town in + Indiana, and the inclosure was worded as follows: + </p> + <p> + CAPTAIN CYRUS WHITTAKER. + </p> + <p> + DEAR SIR: I suppose you will be a good deal surprised to hear from me, + especially from way out West here. When you bought the old house of Seth, + he and I was living in Concord, N. H. He couldn't make a go of his + business there, so we came West and he has been sick most of the time + since. We ain't well off like you, and times are hard with us. What I + wanted to write you about was this. My cousin Mary Thomas, Mary Thayer + that was, is still living in Concord and she is poor and needs help, + though I don't suppose she would ask for it, being too proud. False pride + I call it. Me and Seth would like to do something for her, but we have a + hard enough job to keep going ourselves. Mary married a man by the name of + Henry Thomas, and he turned out to be a miserable good-for-nothing, as I + always said he would. She wouldn't listen to me though. He run off and + left her seven year ago last April, and I understand was killed or drowned + somewheres up in Montana. Mary and [several words scratched out here] got + along somehow since, but I don't know how. While we lived in Concord Seth + sort of kept an eye on her, but now he can't of course. She's a good girl, + or woman rather, being most forty, and would make a good housekeeper if + you should need one as I suppose likely you will. If you could help her it + would be an act of charity and you will be rewarded Above. Seth says why + not write to her and tell her to come and see you? He feels bad about her, + because he is so sick I suppose. And he knows you are rich and could do + good if you felt like it. Her father's name was John Thayer. I wouldn't + wonder if you used to know her mother. She was Emily Richards afore she + married and they used to live in Orham. + </p> + <p> + Yours truly, + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH HOWES. + </p> + <p> + P.S.—Mary's address is Mrs. Mary Thomas, care Mrs. Oliver, 128 Blank + Street, Concord, N. H. + </p> + <p> + N.B.—Seth won't say so, but I will: we are very hard up ourselves + and if you could help him and me with the loan of a little money it would + be thankfully received. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy read the letter, folded it, and replaced it in his pocket. He + knew the Howes family by reputation, and the reputation was that of + general sharpness in trade and stinginess in money matters. Betsy's + personal appeal did not, therefore, touch his heart to any great extent. + He surmised also that for Seth Howes and his wife to ask help for some + person other than themselves premised a darky in the woodpile somewhere. + But for the daughter of Emily Richards to be suggested as a possible + housekeeper at the Cy Whittaker place—that was interesting, + certainly. + </p> + <p> + When the captain was not a captain—when he was merely “young Cy,” a + boy, living with his parents, a dancing school was organized in Bayport. + It was an innovation for our village, and frowned upon by many of the + older and stricter inhabitants. However, most of the captain's boy friends + were permitted to attend; young Cy was not. His father considered dancing + a waste of time and, if not wicked, certainly frivolous and nonsensical. + So the boy remained at home, but, in spite of the parental order, he + practiced some of the figures of the quadrilles and the contra dances in + his comrades' barns, learning them at second hand, so to speak. + </p> + <p> + One winter there was to be a party in Orham, given by the Nickersons, + wealthy people with a fifteen-year-old daughter. It was to be a grand + affair, and most of the boys and girls in the neighboring towns were + invited. Cy received an invitation, and, for a wonder, was permitted to + attend. The Bayport contingent went over in a big hayrick on runners and + the moonlight ride was jolly enough. The Nickerson mansion was crowded and + there were music and dancing. + </p> + <p> + Young Cy was miserable during the dancing. He didn't dare attempt it, in + spite of his lessons in the barn. So, while the rest of his boy friends + sought partners for the “Portland Fancy” and “Hull's Victory” he sat + forlorn in a corner. + </p> + <p> + As he sat there he was approached by a young lady, radiant in muslin and + ribbons. She was three or four years older than he was, and he had + worshipped her from afar as she whirled up and down the line in the + Virginia Reel. She never lacked partners and seemed to be a great favorite + with the young men, especially one good-looking chap with a sunburned + face, who looked like a sailor. + </p> + <p> + They were forming sets for “Money Musk”; it was “ladies' choice,” and + there was a demand for more couples. The young lady came ever to Cy's + corner and laughingly dropped him a courtesy. + </p> + <p> + “If you please,” she said, “I want a partner. Will you do me the honor?” + </p> + <p> + Cy blushingly avowed that he couldn't dance any to speak of. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you can! I'm sure you can. You're the Whittaker boy, aren't you? + I've heard about your barn lessons. And I want you to try this with me. + Please do. No, John,” she added, turning to the sunburned young fellow who + had followed her across the room; “this is my choice and here is my + partner. Susie Taylor is after you and you mustn't run away. Come, Mr. + Whittaker.” + </p> + <p> + So Cy took her arm and they danced “Money Musk” together. He made but a + few mistakes, and these she helped him to correct so easily that none + noticed. His success gave him courage and he essayed other dances; in + fact, he had a very good time at the party after all. + </p> + <p> + On the way home he thought a great deal about the pretty young lady, whose + name he discovered was Emily Richards. He decided that if she would only + wait for him, he might like to marry her when he grew up. But he was + thirteen and she was seventeen, and the very next year she married John + Thayer, the sailor in the blue suit. And two years after that young Cy ran + away to be a sailor himself. + </p> + <p> + In spite of his age and his lifetime of battering about the world, Captain + Cy had a sentimental streak in his makeup; his rejuvenation of the old + home proved that. Betsy's letter interested him. He had made guarded + inquiries concerning Mary Thayer, now Mary Thomas, of others besides + Asaph, and the answers had been satisfactory so far as they went; those + who remembered her had liked her very much. The captain had even begun a + letter to Mrs. Thomas, but laid it aside unfinished, having, since + Bailey's unfortunate experience with the widow Beasley, a prejudice + against experiments. + </p> + <p> + But this evening, before Mr. Tidditt called, he had been thinking that + something would have to be done and done soon. The generally shiftless + condition of his domestic surroundings was getting to be unbearable. Dust + and dirt did not fit into his mental picture of the old home as it used to + be and as he had tried to restore it. There had been neither dust nor dirt + in his mother's day. + </p> + <p> + He meditated and smoked for another hour. Then, his mind being made up, he + pulled down the desk lid of the old-fashioned secretary, resurrected from + a pile of papers the note he had begun to Mrs. Thomas, dipped a sputtering + pen into the ink bottle and proceeded to write. + </p> + <p> + His letter was a short one and rather noncommittal. As Mrs. Thomas no + doubt knew he had come back to live in his father's house at Bayport. He + might possibly need some one to keep house for him. He understood that + she, Mary Thayer that was, was a good housekeeper and that she was open to + an engagement if everything was mutually satisfactory. He had known her + mother slightly when the latter lived in Orham. He thought an interview + might be pleasant, for they could talk over old times if nothing more. + Perhaps, on the whole, she might care to risk a trip to Bayport, therefore + he inclosed money for her railroad fare. “You understand, of course,” so + he wrote in conclusion, “that nothing may come of our meeting at all. So + please don't say a word to anybody when you strike town. You've lived here + yourself, and you know that three words hove overboard in Bayport will + dredge up gab enough to sink a dictionary. So just keep mum till the + business is settled one way or the other.” + </p> + <p> + He put on his hat and went down to the post office, where he dropped his + letter in the slot of the box fastened to the front door. Then he returned + home and retired at exactly eleven o'clock. In spite of his remarks to + Asaph, he had not “turned in” so early after all. + </p> + <p> + If the captain expected a prompt reply to his note he was disappointed. A + week passed and he heard nothing. Then three more days and still no word + from the New Hampshire widow. Meanwhile fresh layers of dust spread + themselves over the Whittaker furniture, and the gaudy patterns of the + carpets blushed dimly beneath a grimy fog. The situation was desperate; + even Matilda Tripp, Come-Outer sermons and all, began to be thinkable as a + possibility. + </p> + <p> + The eleventh day began with a pouring rain that changed, later on, to a + dismal drizzle. The silver-leaf tree in the front yard dripped, and the + overflowing gutters gurgled and splashed. The bay was gray and lonely, and + the fish weirs along the outer bar were lost in the mist. The flowers in + the Atkins urns were draggled and beaten down. Only the iron dogs + glistened undaunted as the wet ran off their newly painted backs. The air + was heavy, and the salty flavor of the flats might almost be tasted in it. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was in the sitting room, as usual. His spirits were as gray as + the weather. He was actually lonesome for the first time since his return + home. He had kindled a wood fire in the stove, just for the sociability of + it, and the crackle and glow behind the isinglass panes only served to + remind him of other days and other fires. The sitting room had not been + lonesome then. + </p> + <p> + He heard the depot wagon rattle by and, peering from the window, saw that, + except for Mr. Lumley, it was empty. Not even a summer boarder had come to + brighten our ways and lawns with reckless raiment and the newest slang. + Summer boarding season was almost over now. Bayport would soon be as dull + as dish water. And the captain admitted to himself that it WAS dull. He + had half a mind to take a flying trip to Boston, make the round of the + wharves, and see if any of the old shipowners and ship captains whom he + had once known were still alive and in harness. + </p> + <p> + “JINGLE! Jingle! JINGLE! Jingle! Jingle! Jing! Jing! Jing!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy bounced in his chair. That was the front-door bell. The + FRONT-door bell! Who on earth, or, rather, who in Bayport, would come to + the FRONT door? + </p> + <p> + He hurried through the dim grandeur of the best parlor and entered the + little dark front hall. The bell was still swinging at the end of its coil + of wire. The dust shaken from it still hung in the air. The captain + unbolted and unlocked the big front door. + </p> + <p> + A girl was standing on the steps between the lines of box hedge—a + little girl under a big “grown-up” umbrella. The wet dripped from the + umbrella top and from the hem of the little girl's dress. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy stared hard at his visitor; he knew most of the children in + Bayport, but he didn't know this one. Obviously she was a stranger. + Portuguese children from “up Harniss way” sometimes called to peddle + huckleberries, but this child was no “Portugee.” + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” exclaimed the captain wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ring the bell?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” replied the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Did, hey? Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Why, I thought—Isn't it a truly bell? Didn't it ought to ring? + Is anybody sick or dead? There isn't any crape.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead? Crape?” Captain Cy gasped. “What in the world put that in your + head?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I didn't know but maybe that was why you thought I hadn't ought to + have rung it. When mamma was sick they didn't let people ring our bell. + And when she died they tied it up with crape.” + </p> + <p> + “Did, hey? Hum!” The captain scratched his chin and gazed at the small + figure before him. It was a self-poised, matter-of-fact figure for such a + little one, and, out there in the rain under the tent roof of the + umbrella, it was rather pitiful. + </p> + <p> + “Please, sir,” said the child, “are you Captain Cyrus Whittaker?” + </p> + <p> + “Yup! That's me. You've guessed it the first time.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I've got a letter for you. It's pinned inside my dress. If you + could hold this umbrella maybe I could get it out.” + </p> + <p> + She extended the big umbrella at arm's length, holding it with both hands. + Captain Cy woke up. + </p> + <p> + “Good land!” he exclaimed, “what am I thinkin' of? You're soakin' wet + through, ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'm pretty wet. It's a long ways from the depot, and I tried to + come across the fields, because a boy said it was nearer, and the bushes + were—” + </p> + <p> + “Across the FIELDS? Have you walked all the way from the depot?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. The man said it was a quarter to ride, and auntie said I must + be careful of my money because—” + </p> + <p> + “By the big dipper! Come in! Come in out of that this minute!” + </p> + <p> + He sprang down the steps, furled the umbrella, seized her by the arm and + led her into the house, through the parlor and into the sitting room, + where the fire crackled invitingly. He could feel that the dress sleeve + under his hand was wet through, and the worn boots and darned stockings he + could see were soaked likewise. + </p> + <p> + “There!” he cried. “Set down in that chair. Put your feet up on that + h'ath. Sakes alive! Your folks ought to know better than to let you stir + out this weather, let alone walkin' a mile—and no rubbers! Them + shoes ought to come off this minute, I s'pose. Take 'em off. You can dry + your stockings better that way. Off with 'em!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said the child, stooping to unbutton the shoes. Her wet + fingers were blue. It can be cold in our village, even in early September, + when there is an easterly storm. Unbuttoning the shoes was slow work. + </p> + <p> + “Here, let me help you!” commanded the captain, getting down on one knee + and taking a foot in his lap. “Tut! tut! tut! you're wet! Been some time + sence I fussed with button boots; lace or long-legged cowhides come + handier. Never wore cowhides, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I s'pose not. I used to when I was little. Remember the first pair I had. + Copper toes on 'em—whew! The copper was blacked over when they come + out of the store and that wouldn't do, so we used to kick a stone wall + till they brightened up. There! there she comes. Humph! stockin's soaked, + too. Wish I had some dry ones to lend you. Might give you a pair of mine, + but they'd be too scant fore and aft and too broad in the beam, I + cal'late. Humph! and your top-riggin's as wet as your hull. Been on your + beam ends, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, sir. I fell down in the bushes coming across. There were + vines and they tripped me up. And the umbrella was so heavy that—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I could see right off you was carryin' too much canvas. Now take off + your bunnit and I'll get a coat of mine to wrap you up in.” + </p> + <p> + He went into his bedroom and returned with a heavy “reefer” jacket. + Ordering his caller to stand up he slipped her arms into the sleeves and + turned the collar up about her neck. Her braided “pigtail” of yellow hair + stuck out over the collar and hung down her back in a funny way. The coat + sleeves reached almost to her knees and the coat itself enveloped her like + a bed quilt. + </p> + <p> + “There!” said Captain Cy approvingly. “Now you look more as if you was + under a storm rig. Set down and toast your toes. Where's that letter you + said you had?” + </p> + <p> + “It's inside here. I don't know's I can get at it; these sleeves are so + long.” + </p> + <p> + “Reef 'em. Turn 'em up. Let me show you. That's better! Hum! So you come + from the depot, hey? Live up that way?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir! I used to live in Concord, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Concord? CONCORD? Concord where?” + </p> + <p> + “Concord, New Hampshire. I came on the cars. Auntie knew a man who was + going to Boston, and he said he'd take care of me as far as that and then + put me on the train to come down here. I stopped at his folks' house in + Charlestown last night, and this morning we got up early and he bought me + a ticket and started me for here. I had a box with my things in it, but it + was so heavy I couldn't carry it, so I left it up at the depot. The man + there said it would be all right and you could send for it when—” + </p> + <p> + “I could SEND for it? <i>I</i> could? What in the world—Say, child, + you've made a mistake in your bearin's. 'Taint me you want to see, it's + some of your folks, relations, most likely. Tell me who they are; maybe I + know 'em.” + </p> + <p> + The girl sat upright in the big chair. Her dark eyes opened wide and her + chin quivered. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you Captain Cyrus Whittaker?” she demanded. “You said you was.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I am. I'm Cy Whittaker, but what—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, auntie told me—” + </p> + <p> + “Auntie! Auntie who?” + </p> + <p> + “Auntie Oliver. She isn't really my auntie, but mamma and me lived in her + house for ever so long and so—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait! wait! wait! I'm hull down in the fog. This is gettin' too thick for + ME. Your auntie's name's Oliver and you lived in Concord, New Hampshire. + For—for thunder sakes, what's YOUR name?” + </p> + <p> + “Emily Richards Thomas.” + </p> + <p> + “Em—Emily—Richards—Thomas” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Emily Richards Thomas! What was your ma's name?” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma was Mrs. Thomas. Her front name was Mary. She's dead. Don't you + want to see your letter? I've got it now.” + </p> + <p> + She lifted one of the flapping coat sleeves and extended a crumpled, damp + envelope. Captain Cy took it in a dazed fashion and drew a long breath. + Then he tore open the envelope and read the following: + </p> + <p> + DEAR CAPTAIN WHITTAKER: + </p> + <p> + The bearer of this is Emily Richards Thomas. She is seven, going on eight, + but old for her years. Her mother was Mary Thomas that used to be Mary + Thayer. It was her you wrote to about keeping house for you, but she had + been dead a fortnight before your letter come. She had bronchial pneumonia + and it carried her off, having always been delicate and with more troubles + to bear than she could stand, poor thing. Since her husband, who I say was + a scamp even if he is dead, left her and the baby, she has took rooms with + me and done sewing and such. When she passed away I wrote to Seth Howes, a + relation of hers out West, and, so far as I know, the only one she had. I + told the Howes man that Mary had gone and Emmie was left. Would they take + her? I wrote. And Seth's wife wrote they couldn't, being poorer than + poverty themselves. I was afraid she would have to go to a Home, but when + your letter came I wrote the Howeses again. And Mrs. Howes wrote back that + you was rich, and a sort of far-off relation of Mary's, and probably you + would be glad to take the child to bring up. Said that she had some + correspondence with you about Mary before. So I send Emmie to you. + Somebody's got to take care of her and I can't afford it, though I would + if I could, for she's a real nice child and some like her mother. I do + hope she can stay with you. It seems a shame to send her to the orphan + asylum. I send along what clothes she's got, which ain't many. + </p> + <p> + Respectfully yours, + </p> + <p> + SARAH OLIVER. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy read the letter through. Then he wiped his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” he muttered. “WELL! I never in my life! I—I never did! Of + all—” + </p> + <p> + Emily Richards Thomas looked up from the depths of the coat collar. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think,” she said, “that you had better send to the depot for my + box? I can get dry SOME this way, but mamma always made me change my + clothes as soon as I could. She used to be afraid I'd get cold.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + ICICLES AND DUST + </h3> + <p> + Captain Cy did not reply to the request for the box. It is doubtful if he + even heard it. Mrs. Oliver's astonishing letter had, as he afterwards + said, left him “high and dry with no tug in sight.” Mary Thomas was dead, + and her daughter, her DAUGHTER! of whose very existence he had been + ignorant, had suddenly appeared from nowhere and been dropped at his door, + like an out-of-season May basket, accompanied by the modest suggestion + that he assume responsibility for her thereafter. No wonder the captain + wiped his forehead in utter bewilderment. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think you'd better send for the box?” repeated the child, + shivering a little under the big coat. + </p> + <p> + “Hey? What say? Never mind, though. Just keep quiet for a spell, won't + you. I want to let this soak in. By the big dipper! Of all the solid brass + cheek that ever I run across, this beats the whole cargo! And Betsy Howes + never hinted! 'Probably you would be glad to take—' Be GLAD! Why, + blast their miserable, stingy—What do they take me for? I'LL show + 'em! Indiana ain't so fur that I can't—Hey? Did you say anything, + sis?” + </p> + <p> + The girl had shivered again. “No, sir,” she replied. “It was my teeth, I + guess. They kind of rattled.” + </p> + <p> + “What? You ain't cold, are you? With all that round you and in front of + that fire?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, I guess not. Only my back feels sort of funny, as if somebody + kept dropping icicles down it. Those bushes and vines were so wet that + when I tumbled down 'twas most like being in a pond.” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! sho! That won't do. Can't have you laid up on my hands. That would + be worse than—Humph! Tut, tut! Somethin' ought to be done, and I'm + blessed if I know what. And not a woman round the place—not even + that Debby. Say, look here, what's your name—er—Emmie, hadn't + I better get the doctor?” + </p> + <p> + The child looked frightened. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she cried, her big eyes opening. “I'm not sick, am I?” + </p> + <p> + “Sick? No, no! Course not, course not. What would you want to be sick for? + But you ought to get warm and dry right off, I s'pose, and your duds are + all up to the depot. Say, what does—what did your ma used to do when + you felt—er—them icicles and things?” + </p> + <p> + “She changed my clothes and rubbed me. And, if I was VERY wet she put me + to bed sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “Bed? Sure! why, yes, indeed. Bed's a good place to keep off icicles. + There's my bedroom right in there. You could turn in just as well as not. + Bunk ain't made yet, but I can shake it up in no time. Say—er—er—you + can undress yourself, can't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, sir! Course I can! I'm most eight.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure you are! Don't act a mite babyish. All right, you set still till I + shake up that bunk.” + </p> + <p> + He entered the chamber, his own, opening from the sitting room, and + proceeded, literally, to “shake up” the bed. It was not a lengthy process + and, when it was completed, he returned to find his visitor already + divested of the coat and standing before the stove. + </p> + <p> + “I guess perhaps you'll have to help undo me behind,” observed the young + lady. “This is my best dress and I can't reach the buttons in the middle + of the back.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy scratched his head. Then he clumsily unbuttoned the wet waist, + glancing rather sheepishly at the window to see if anyone was coming. + </p> + <p> + “So this is your best dress, hey?” he asked, to cover his confusion. It + was obviously not very new, for it was neatly mended in one or two places. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “So. Where'd you buy it—up to Concord?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. Mamma made it, a year ago.” + </p> + <p> + There was a little choke in the child's voice. The captain was mightily + taken back. + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Yes, yes,” he muttered hurriedly. “Well, there you are. Now you can + get along, can't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Shall I go in that room?” + </p> + <p> + “Trot right in. You might—er—maybe you might sing out when + you're tucked up. I—I'll want to know if you're got bedclothes + enough.” + </p> + <p> + Emily disappeared in the bedroom. The door closed. Captain Cy, his hands + in his pockets, walked up and down the length of the sitting room. The + expression on his face was a queer one. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't got any nightgown,” called a voice from the other room. The + captain gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Good land! so you ain't,” he exclaimed. “What in the world—Humph! I + wonder—” + </p> + <p> + He went to the lower drawer of a tall “highboy” and, from the tumbled mass + of apparel therein took one of his own night garments. + </p> + <p> + “Here's one,” he said, coming back with it in his hand. “I guess you'll + have to make this do for now. It'll fit you enough for three times to + once, but it's all I've got.” + </p> + <p> + A small hand reached 'round the edge of the door and the nightshirt + disappeared. Captain Cy chuckled and resumed his pacing. + </p> + <p> + “I'm tucked up,” called Miss Thomas. The captain entered and found her in + bed, the patchwork points and diamonds of the “Rising Sun” quilt covering + her to the chin and her head denting the uppermost of the two big pillows. + Captain Cy liked to “sleep high.” + </p> + <p> + “Got enough over you?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “That's good. I'll take your togs out and dry 'em in the kitchen. Don't be + scared; I'll be right back.” + </p> + <p> + In the kitchen he sorted the wet garments and hung them about the cook + stove. It was a strange occupation for him and he shook his head + whimsically as he completed it. Then he took a flat iron, one of Mrs. + Beasley's purchases, from the shelf in the closet and put it in the oven + to heat. Soon afterwards he returned to the bedroom, bearing the iron + wrapped in a dish towel. + </p> + <p> + “My ma always used to put a hot flat to my feet when I was a young one and + got chilled,” he explained. “I ain't used one for some time, but I guess + it's a good receipt. How do you feel now? Any more icicles?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I'm ever so warm. Isn't this a nice bed?” + </p> + <p> + “Think so, do you? Glad of it. Well, now, I'm goin' to leave you in it + while I step down street and see about havin' your box sent for. I'll be + back in a shake. If anybody comes to the door while I'm gone don't you + worry; let 'em go away again.” + </p> + <p> + He put on his hat and left the house, walking rapidly, his head down and + his hands in his pockets. At times he would pause in his walk, whistle, + shake his head, and go on once more. Josiah Dimick met him, and his + answers to Josiah's questions were so vague and irrelevant that Captain + Dimick was puzzled, and later expressed the opinion that “Whit's cookin' + must be pretty bad; acted to me as if he had dyspepsy of the brain.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy stopped at Mr. Lumley's residence to leave an order for the + delivery of the box. Then he drifted into Simmons's and accosted Alpheus + Smalley. + </p> + <p> + “Al,” he said, “what's good for a cold?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked Mr. Smalley, in true Yankee fashion. “You got one?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Oh, yes! Yes, I've got one.” By way of proof he coughed until the + lamp chimneys rattled on the shelf. + </p> + <p> + “Judas! I should think you had! Well, there's 'Pine Bark Oil' and + 'Sassafras Elixir' and two kinds of sass'p'rilla—that's good for + most everything—and—Is your throat sore?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Yes, I guess so.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you KNOW? If you've got sore throat there ain't nothin' better'n + 'Arabian Balsam.' But what in time are you doin' out in this drizzle with + a cold and no umbrella? Do you want to—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind my umbrella. I left it in the church entry t'other Sunday and + somebody got out afore I did. This 'Arabian Balsam'—seems to me I + remember my ma's usin' that on me. Wet a rag with it, don't you, and tie + it round your neck?” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. Be sure and use a flannel rag, and red flannel if you've got it; + that acts quicker'n the other kinds. Fifteen cent bottle?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess so. Might's well give me some sass'p'rilla, while you're about + it; always handy to have in the house. And—er—say, is that + canned soup you've got up on that shelf?” + </p> + <p> + The astonished clerk admitted that it was. + </p> + <p> + “Well, give me a can of the chicken kind.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smalley, standing on a chair to reach the shelf where the soup was + kept, shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Now, that's too bad, Cap'n,” he said, “but we're all out of chicken just + now. Fact is, we ain't got nothin' but termatter and beef broth. Yes, and + I declare if the termatter ain't all gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! then I guess I'll take the beef. Needn't mind wrappin' it up. So + long.” + </p> + <p> + He departed bearing his purchases. When Mr. Simmons, proprietor of the + store, returned, Alpheus told him that he “cal'lated” Captain Cy Whittaker + was preparing to “go into a decline, or somethin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow,” said Alpheus, “he bought sass'p'rilla and 'Arabian Balsam,' and + I sold him a can of that beef soup you bought three year ago last summer, + when Alicia Atkins had the chicken pox.” + </p> + <p> + The captain entered the house quietly and tiptoed to the door of the + bedroom. Emily was asleep, and the sight of the childish head upon the + pillow gave him a start as he peeped in at it. It looked so natural, + almost as if it belonged there. It had been in a bed like that and in that + very room that he had slept when a boy. + </p> + <p> + Gabe, brimful of curiosity, brought the box a little later. His curiosity + was ungratified, Captain Cyrus explaining that it was a package he had + been expecting. The captain took the box to the bedroom, and, finding the + child still asleep, deposited it on the floor and tiptoed out again. He + went to the kitchen, poked up the fire, and set about getting dinner. + </p> + <p> + He was warming the beef broth in a saucepan on the stove when Emily + appeared. She was dressed in dry clothes from the box and seemed to be + feeling as good as new. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” exclaimed Captain Cy. “You're on deck again, hey? How's icicles?” + </p> + <p> + “All gone,” was the reply. “Do you do your own work? Can't I help? I can + set the table. I used to for Mrs. Oliver.” + </p> + <p> + The captain protested that he could do it himself just as well, but the + girl persisting, he showed her where the dishes were kept. From the corner + of his eye he watched her as she unfolded the tablecloth. + </p> + <p> + “Is this the only one you've got?” she inquired. “It's awful dirty.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Yes, I ain't tended up to my washin' and ironin' the way I'd ought + to. I'll lose my job if I don't look out, hey?” + </p> + <p> + Before they sat down to the meal Captain Cy insisted that his guest take a + tablespoonful of the sarsaparilla and decorate her throat with a section + of red flannel soaked in the 'Arabian Balsam.' The perfume of the latter + was penetrating and might have interfered with a less healthy appetite + than that of Miss Thomas. + </p> + <p> + “Have some soup? Some I bought purpose for you. Best thing goin' for folks + with icicles,” remarked the captain, waving the iron spoon he had used to + stir the contents of the saucepan. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, thank you. But don't you ask a blessing?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” + </p> + <p> + “A blessing, you know. Saying that you're thankful for the food now set + before us.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Why, to tell you the truth I've kind of neglected that, I'm afraid. + Bein' thankful for the grub I've had lately was most too much of a strain, + I shouldn't wonder.” + </p> + <p> + “I know the one mamma used to say. Shall I ask it for you?” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! I guess so, if you want to.” + </p> + <p> + The girl bent her head and repeated a short grace. Captain Cy watched her + curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I'll have some soup, please,” observed Emily. “I'm awful hungry. I + had breakfast at five o'clock this morning and we didn't have a chance to + eat much.” + </p> + <p> + A good many times that day the captain caught himself wondering if he + wasn't dreaming. The whole affair seemed too ridiculous to be an actual + experience. Dinner over, he and Emmie attended to the dishes, he washing + and she wiping. And even at this early stage of their acquaintance her + disposition to take charge of things was apparent. She found fault with + the dish towels; they were almost as bad as the tablecloth, she said. + Considering that the same set had been in use since Mrs. Beasley's + departure, the criticism was not altogether baseless. But the young lady + did not stop there—her companion's skill as a washer was questioned. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” she said, “but don't you think that plate had better be done + over? I guess you didn't see that place in the corner. Perhaps you've + forgot your specs. Auntie Oliver couldn't see well without her specs.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy grinned and admitted that a second washing wouldn't hurt the + plate. + </p> + <p> + “I guess your auntie was one of the particular kind,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, 'twas mamma. She couldn't bear dirty things. Auntie used to say + that mamma hunted dust with a magnifying glass. She didn't, though; she + only liked to be neat. I guess dust doesn't worry men so much as it does + women.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, 'cause there's so much of it here; don't you think so? I'll help you + clean up by and by, if you want to.” + </p> + <p> + “YOU will?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I used to dust sometimes when mamma was out sewing. And once I + swept, but I did it so hard that auntie wouldn't let me any more. She said + 'twas like trying to blow out a match with a tornado.” + </p> + <p> + Later on he found her standing in the sitting room, critically inspecting + the mats, the furniture, and the pictures on the walls. He stood watching + her for a moment and then asked: + </p> + <p> + “Well, what are you lookin' for—more dust? 'Twon't be hard to find + it. 'Dust thou art and unto dust thou shalt return.' Every time I go + outdoor and come in again I realize how true that is.” + </p> + <p> + Emily shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” she said; “I was only looking at things and thinking.” + </p> + <p> + “Thinkin', hey? What about? or is that a secret?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I was thinking that this room was different from any I've ever + seen.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Yes, I presume likely 'tis. Don't like it very much, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I think I do. It's got a good many things in it that I never + saw before, but I guess they're pretty—after you get used to 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy laughed aloud. “After you get used to 'em, hey?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. That's what mamma said about Auntie Oliver's new bonnet that + she made herself. I—I was thinking that you must be peculiar.” + </p> + <p> + “Peculiar?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I like peculiar people. I'm peculiar myself. Auntie used to say + I was the most peculiar child she ever saw. P'raps that's why I came to + you. P'raps God meant for peculiar ones to live together. Don't you think + maybe that was it?” + </p> + <p> + And the captain, having no answer ready, said nothing. + </p> + <p> + That evening when Asaph and Bailey, coming for their usual call, peeped in + at the window, they were astounded by the tableau in the Whittaker sitting + room. Captain Cy was seated in the rocking chair which had been his + grandfather's. At his feet, on the walnut cricket with a haircloth top, + sat a little girl turning over the leaves of a tattered magazine, a + Godey's Lady's Book. A pile of these magazines was beside her on the + floor. The captain was smiling and looking over her shoulder. The cat was + curled up in another chair. The room looked more homelike than it had + since its owner returned to it. + </p> + <p> + The friends entered without knocking. Captain Cy looked up, saw them, and + appeared embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, boys!” he said. “Glad to see you. Come right in. Clearin' off + fine, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt replied absently that he wouldn't be surprised if it was. + Bailey, his eyes fixed upon the occupant of the cricket, said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “We—we didn't know you had company, Whit,” said Asaph. “We been up + to Simmons's and Alpheus said you was thin and peaked and looked sick. + Said you bought sass'p'rilla and all kind of truck. He was afraid you had + fever and was out of your head, cruisin round in the rain with no + umbrella. The gang weren't talkin' of nothin' else, so me and Bailey + thought we'd come right down.” + </p> + <p> + “That's kind of you, I'm sure. Take your things off and set down. No, I'm + sorry to disappoint Smalley and the rest, but I'm able to be up and—er—make + my own bed, thank you. So Alpheus thought I looked thin, hey? Well, if I + had to live on that soup he sold me, I'd be thinner'n I am now. You tell + him that canned hot water is all right if you like it, but it seems a + shame to put mud in it. It only changes the color and don't help the + taste.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs, who was still staring at Emily, now ventured a remark. + </p> + <p> + “Is that a relation of yours, Cy?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “That? Oh! Well, no, not exactly. And yet I don't know but she is. + Fellers, this is Emmie Thomas. Can't you shake hands, Emmie?” + </p> + <p> + The child rose, laid down the magazine, which was open at the colored + picture of a group of ladies in crinoline and chignons, and, going across + the room, extended a hand to Mr. Tidditt. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, sir?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Why—er—how d'ye do? I'm pretty smart, thank you. How's + yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm better now. I guess the sass'parilla was good for me.” + </p> + <p> + “'Twan't the sass'p'rilla,” observed the captain, with conviction. “'Twas + the 'Arabian Balsam.' Ma always cured me with it and there's nothin' + finer.” + </p> + <p> + “But what in time—” began Bailey. Captain Cy glanced at the child + and then at the clock. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think you'd better turn in now, Emmie?” he said hastily, + cutting off the remainder of the Bangs query. “It's after eight, and when + I was little I was abed afore that.” + </p> + <p> + Emily obediently turned, gathered up the Lady's Books and replaced them in + the closet. Then she went to the dining room and came back with a hand + lamp. + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” she said, addressing the visitors. Then, coming close to the + captain, she put her face up for a kiss. + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” she said to him, adding, “I like it here ever so much. I'm + awful glad you let me stay.” + </p> + <p> + As Bailey told Asaph afterwards, Captain Cy blushed until the ends of the + red lapped over at the nape of his neck. However, he bent and kissed the + rosy lips and then quickly brushed his own with his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” he stammered. “Well—er—good night. Pleasant dreams + to you. See you in the mornin'.” + </p> + <p> + The girl paused at the chamber door. “You won't have to unbutton my waist + now,” she said. “This is my other one and it ain't that kind.” + </p> + <p> + The door closed. The captain, without looking at his friends, led the way + to the dining room. + </p> + <p> + “Come on out here,” he whispered. “We can talk better here.” + </p> + <p> + Naturally, they wanted to know all about the girl, who she was and where + she came from. Captain Cy told as much of the history of the affair as he + thought necessary. + </p> + <p> + “Poor young one,” he concluded, “she landed on to me in the rain, soppin' + wet, and ha'f sick. I COULDN'T turn her out then—nobody could. + Course it's an everlastin' outrage on me and the cheekiest thing ever I + heard of, but what could I do? I was fixed a good deal like an English + feller by the name of Gatenby that I used to know in South America. He + woke up in the middle of the night and found a boa constrictor curled on + the foot of his bed. Next day, when a crowd of us happened in, there was + Gatenby, white as a sheet, starin' down at the snake, and it sound asleep. + 'I didn't invite him,' he says, 'but he looked so bloomin' comf'table I + 'adn't the 'eart to disturb 'im.' Same way with me; the child seemed so + comf'table here I ain't had the heart to disturb her—yet.” + </p> + <p> + “But she said she was goin' to stay,” put in Bailey. “You ain't goin' to + KEEP her, are you?” + </p> + <p> + The captain's indignation was intense. + </p> + <p> + “Who—me?” he snorted. “What do you think I am? I ain't runnin' an + orphan asylum. No, sir! I'll keep the young one a day or so—or maybe + a week—and then I'll pack her off to Betsy Howes. I ain't so soft as + they think I am. I'LL show 'em!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt looked thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + “She's a kind of cute little girl, ain't she?” he observed. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy's frown vanished and a smile took its place. + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” he chuckled. “She is, now that's a fact! I don't know's I + ever saw a cuter.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + CAPTAIN CY PROVES DELINQUENT + </h3> + <p> + A week isn't a very long time even in Bayport. True, there was once a + drummer for a Boston “notion” house who sprained his ankle on the icy + sidewalk in front of Simmons's, and was therefore obliged to remain in the + front bedroom of the perfect boarding house for seven whole days. He is + quoted as saying that next time he hoped he might break his neck. + </p> + <p> + “Brother,” asked the shocked Rev. Mr. Daniels, who was calling upon the + stranger, “are you prepared to face eternity?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” was the energetic reply. “After a week in this town, and in this + bedroom? Look here, Mister, if you want to scare me about the future you + just hint that they'll put me on a straw tick in an ice chest. Anything + hot and lively 'll only be tempting after this.” + </p> + <p> + But to us, who live here throughout the year, a week soon passes. And the + end of the week following Emily Thomas's arrival at the Cy Whittaker place + found the little girl still there and apparently no nearer being shipped + to Indiana than when she came. Not so near, if Mr. Tidditt's opinion + counts for anything. + </p> + <p> + “Gone?” he repeated scoffingly in reply to Bailey Bangs's question. + “Course she ain't gone! And, what's more, she ain't goin' to go. Whit's + got so already that he wouldn't part with her no more'n he'd cut off his + hand.” + </p> + <p> + “But he keeps SAYIN' she's got to go. Only yesterday he was tellin' how + Betsy'd feel when the girl landed on her with his letter in her pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “Sayin' don't count for nothin'. Zoeth Cahoon keeps SAYIN' he's goin' to + stop drinkin', but he only stops long enough to catch his breath. Cy's + tellin' himself fairy yarns and he hopes he believes 'em. Man alive! can't + you SEE? Ain't he gettin' more foolish over the young one every day? Don't + she boss him round like the overseer on a cranberry swamp? Don't he look + more contented than he has sence he got off the cars? I tell you, Bailey, + that child fills a place in Whit's life that's been runnin' to seed and + needed weedin'. Nothin' could fill it better—unless 'twas a nice + wife.” + </p> + <p> + “WIFE! Oh, DO be still! I believe you're woman-struck and at an age when + it hadn't ought to be catchin' no more'n whoopin' cough.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs and the town clerk were the only ones, except Captain Cy, who + knew the whole truth concerning the little girl. Not that the child's + arrival wasn't noted and vigorously discussed by a large portion of the + townspeople. Emily had not been in the Whittaker house two days before + Angeline Phinney called, hot on the trail of gossip and sensation. But, + persistent as Angeline was, she departed knowing not quite as much as when + she came. The interview between Miss Phinney and the captain must have + been interesting, judging by the lady's account of it. + </p> + <p> + “I never see such a man in my born days,” declared Angie disgustedly. “You + couldn't get nothin' out of him. Not that he wan't pleasant and sociable; + land sakes! he acted as glad to see me as if I was his rich aunt come on a + visit. And he was willin' to talk, too. That's the trouble; he done ALL + the talkin'. I happened to mention, just as a sort of starter, you know, + somethin' about the cranb'ry crop this fall; and after that all he could + say was 'cranb'ries, cranb'ries, cranb'ries!' 'Hear you've got comp'ny,' + says I. 'Did you?' says he. 'Now ain't it strange how things'll get spread + around? Only yesterday I heard that Joe Dimick's swamp was just loaded + down with “early blacks.” And yet when I went over to look at it there + didn't seem to be so many. There ain't much better cranb'ries anywhere + than our early blacks,' he says. 'You take 'em—' And so on, and so + on, and so on. <i>I</i> didn't care nothin' about the dratted early + blacks, but he didn't seem to care for nothin' else. He talked cranb'ries + steady for an hour and a half and I left that house with my mouth all + puckered up; it's tasted sour ever sence. I never see such a man!” + </p> + <p> + When Captain Cy was questioned by Asaph concerning the acid conversation, + he grinned. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know you was so interested in cranb'ries,” observed Tidditt. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't,” was the reply; “but I'm more interested in 'em than I am in + Angie. I see she was sufferin' from a rush of curiosity to the head and I + cured her by homeopath doses. Every time she opened her mouth I dropped an + 'early black' into it. It's a good receipt; you tell Bailey to try it on + Ketury some time.” + </p> + <p> + To his chums the captain was emphatic in his orders that secrecy be + preserved. No one was to be told who the child was or where she came from. + “What they don't know won't hurt 'em any,” declared Captain Cy. And + Emily's answer to inquiring souls who would fain have delved into her past + was to the effect that “Uncle Cyrus” didn't like to have her talk about + herself. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know's I'm ashamed of anything I've done so far,” said the + captain; “but I ain't braggin', either. Time enough to talk when I send + her back to Betsy.” + </p> + <p> + That time, apparently, was not in the near future. The girl stayed on at + the Whittaker place and grew to be more and more a part of it. At the end + of the second week Captain Cy began calling her “Bos'n.” + </p> + <p> + “A bos'n's a mighty handy man aboard ship,” he explained, “and you're so + handy here that it fits in first rate. And, besides, it sounds so natural. + My dad called me 'Bos'n' when I was little.” + </p> + <p> + Emily accepted the title complacently. She was quite contented to be + called almost anything, so long as she was permitted to stay with her new + friend. Already the bos'n had taken charge of the deck and the rest of the + ship's company; Captain Cy and “Lonesome,” the cat, obeyed her orders. + </p> + <p> + On the second Sunday morning after her arrival “Bos'n” suggested that she + and Captain Cy go to church. + </p> + <p> + “Mother and I always went at home,” she said. “And Auntie Oliver used to + say meeting was a good thing for those that needed it.” + </p> + <p> + “Think I need it, do you?” asked the captain, who, in shirt sleeves and + slippers, had prepared for a quiet forenoon with his pipe and the Boston + Transcript. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, sir. I heard what you said when Lonesome ate up the steak, + and I thought maybe you hadn't been for a long time. I guess churches are + different in South America.” + </p> + <p> + So they went to church and sat in the old Whittaker pew. The captain had + been there once before when he first returned to Bayport, but the sermon + was more somnolent than edifying, and he hadn't repeated the experiment. + The pair attracted much attention. Fragments of a conversation, heard by + Captain Cy as they emerged into the vestibule, had momentous consequences. + </p> + <p> + “Kind of a pretty child, ain't she?” commented Mrs. Eben Salters, patting + her false front into place under the eaves of her Sunday bonnet. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty enough in the face,” sniffed Mrs. “Tad” Simpson, who was wearing + her black silk for the first time since its third making-over. “Pretty + enough that way, I s'pose. But, my land! look at the way she's rigged. Old + dress, darned and patched up and all outgrown! If I had Cy Whittaker's + money I'd be ashamed to have a relation of mine come to meetin' that way. + Even if her folks was poorer'n Job's off ox I'd spend a little on my own + account and trust to getting it back some time. I'd have more care for my + own self-respect. Look at Alicia Atkins. See how nice she looks. Them + feathers on her hat must have cost somethin', I bet you. Howdy do, 'Licia, + dear? When's your pa comin' home?” + </p> + <p> + The Honorable Heman had left town on a business trip to the South. Alicia + was accompanied by the Atkins housekeeper and, as usual, was garbed + regardless of expense. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Salters smiled sweetly upon the Atkins heir and then added, in a + church whisper: “Don't she look sweet? I agree with you, Sarah; it is + strange how Captain Whittaker lets his little niece go. And him rich!” + </p> + <p> + “Niece?” repeated Mrs. Simpson eagerly. “Who said 'twas his niece? I heard + 'twas a child he'd adopted out of a home. There's all sorts of queer yarns + about. I—Oh, good mornin', Cap'n Cyrus! How DO you do?” + </p> + <p> + The captain grunted an answer to the effect that he was bearing up pretty + well, considering. There was a scowl on his face, and he spoke little as, + holding Emily by the hand, he led the way home. That evening he dropped in + at the perfect boarding house and begged to know if Mrs. Bangs had any + “fashion books” around that she didn't want. + </p> + <p> + “I mean—er—er—magazines with pictures of women's duds in + 'em,” he stammered, in explanation. “Bos'n likes to look at 'em. She's + great on fashion books, Bos'n is.” + </p> + <p> + Keturah got together a half dozen numbers of the Home Dressmaker and other + periodicals of a similar nature. The captain took them under his arm and + departed, whispering to Mr. Tidditt, as he passed the latter in the hall: + </p> + <p> + “Come up by and by, Ase. I want to talk to you. Bring Bailey along, if you + can do it without startin' divorce proceedings.” + </p> + <p> + Later, when the trio gathered in the Whittaker sitting room, Captain Cy + produced the “fashion books” and spoke concerning them. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he said, “I—I've been thinkin' that Bos'n—Emily, + that is—wan't rigged exactly the way she ought to be. Have you + fellers noticed it?” + </p> + <p> + His friends seemed surprised. Neither was ready with an immediate answer, + so the captain went on. + </p> + <p> + “Course I don't mean she ain't got canvas enough to cover her spars,” he + explained; “but what she has got has seen consider'ble weather, and it + seemed to me 'twas pretty nigh time to haul her into dry dock and refit. + That's why I borrowed these magazines of Ketury. I've been lookin' them + over and there seems to be plenty of riggin' for small craft; the only + thing is I don't know what's the right cut for her build. Bailey, you're a + married man; you ought to know somethin' about women's clothes. What do + you think of this, now?” + </p> + <p> + He opened one of the magazines and pointed to the picture of a young girl, + with a waspy waist and Lilliputian feet, who, arrayed in flounces and + furbelows, was toddling gingerly down a flight of marble steps. She + carried a parasol in one hand, and the other held the end of a chain to + which a long-haired dog was attached. + </p> + <p> + The town clerk and his companion inspected the young lady with + deliberation and interest. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you say?” demanded Captain Cy. + </p> + <p> + “I don't care much for them kind of dogs,” observed Asaph thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Good land! you don't s'pose they heave the dog in with the clothes, for + good measure, do you? Bailey, what's your opinion?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs looked wise. + </p> + <p> + “I should say—” he said, “yes, sir, I should say that was a real + stylish rig-out. Only thing is, that girl is consider'ble less fleshy than + Emily. This one looks to me as if she was breakin' in two amidships. + Still, I s'pose likely the duds don't come ready made, so they could be + let out some, to fit. What's the price of a suit like that, Whit?” + </p> + <p> + The captain looked at the printed number beneath the fashion plate and + then turned to the description in the text. + </p> + <p> + “'Afternoon gown for miss of sixteen,'” he read. “Humph! that settles + that, first crack. Bos'n ain't but half of sixteen.” + </p> + <p> + “Anyway,” put in Asaph, “you need somethin' she could wear forenoons, if + she wanted to. What's this one? She looks young enough.” + </p> + <p> + The “one” referred to turned out to be a “coat for child of four.” It was + therefore scornfully rejected. One after another the different magazines + were examined and the pictures discussed. At length a “costume for miss of + eight years” was pronounced to be pretty nearly the thing. + </p> + <p> + “Godfrey scissors!” exclaimed the admiring Mr. Tidditt. “That's mighty + swell, ain't it? What's the stuff goes into that, Cy?” + </p> + <p> + “'Material, batiste, trimmed with embroidered batiste.' What in time is + batiste?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. Do you, Bailey?” + </p> + <p> + “No; never heard of it. Ketury never had nothin' like that, I'm sure. + French, I shouldn't wonder. Well, Ketury's down on the French ever sence + she read about Napoleon leavin' his fust wife to take up with another + woman. Does it say any more?” + </p> + <p> + “Let's see. 'Makes a beautiful gown for evening or summer wear.' Summer! + Why, by the big dipper, we're aground again! Bos'n don't want summer + clothes. It's comin' on winter.” + </p> + <p> + He threw the magazine on the floor, rubbed his forehead, and then burst + into a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “For goodness sake, don't tell anybody about this business, boys!” he + said. “I guess I must be havin' an early spring of second childhood. But + when I heard those women at the meetin' house goin' on about how pretty + 'Licia Atkins was got up and how mean and shabby Bos'n looked, it made me + bile. And, by the big dipper, I WILL show 'em somethin' afore I get + through, too! Only, dressin' little girls is some off my usual course. + Bailey, does Ketury make her own duds?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no! Course she helps and stands by for orders, but Effie Taylor + comes and takes the wheel while the riggin's goin' on. Effie's a + dressmaker and—” + </p> + <p> + “There! See, Ase? It IS some good to have a married man aboard, after all. + A dressmaker's what we want. I'll hunt up Effie to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + And hunt her up he did, with the result that Miss Taylor came to the + Whittaker place each day during the following week and Emily was, as the + captain said, “rigged out fresh from main truck to keelson.” In this + “rigging” Captain Cy and his two partners—Josiah Dimick had already + christened the pair “The Board of Strategy”—took a marked interest. + They were on hand when each new garment was tried on, and they approved or + criticised as seemed to them best. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't that kind of sober lookin' for a young one like Bos'n?” asked the + captain, referring to one of the new gowns. “I don't want her to look as + if she was dressed cheap.” + </p> + <p> + “Land sakes!” mumbled Miss Taylor, her mouth full of pins. “There ain't + anything cheap about it, and you'll find it out when you get the bill. + That's a nice, rich, sensible suit.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but it's so everlastin' quiet! Don't you think a little yellow + and black or some red strung along the yards would sort of liven it up? + Why! you ought to see them Greaser girls down in South America of a Sunday + afternoon. Color! and go! Jerushy! they'd pretty nigh knock your eye out.” + </p> + <p> + The dressmaker sniffed disdain. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Whittaker,” she retorted, “if you want this child to look like an + Indian squaw or a barber's pole you'll have to get somebody else to do it. + I'm used to dressing Christians, not yeller and black heathen women. Red + strung along a skirt like that! I never did!” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Effie! Don't get the barometer fallin'. I was only + suggestin', you know. What do you think, Bos'n?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Uncle Cyrus, I don't believe I should like red very much; nor the + other colors, either. I like this just as it is.” + </p> + <p> + “So? Well, you're the doctor. Maybe you're right. I wouldn't want you to + look like a barber's pole. Don't love Tad Simpson enough to want to + advertise his business.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Taylor's coming had other results besides the refitting of “Bos'n.” + She found much fault with the captain's housekeeping. It developed that + her sister Georgiana, who had been working in a Brockton shoe shop, was + now at home and might be engaged to attend to the household duties at the + Whittaker establishment, provided she was allowed to “go home nights.” + Georgiana was engaged, on trial, and did well. So that problem was solved. + </p> + <p> + School in Bayport opens the first week in October. Of late there has been + a movement, headed by some of the townspeople who think city ways are + best, to have the term begin in September. But this idea has little chance + of success as long as cranberry picking continues to be our leading + industry. So many of the children help out the family means by picking + cranberries in the fall that school, until the picking season was over, + would be slimly attended. + </p> + <p> + The last week in September found us all discussing the coming of the new + downstairs teacher, Miss Phoebe Dawes. Since it was definitely settled + that she was to come, the opposition had died down and was less openly + expressed; but it was there, all the same, beneath the surface. + Congressman Atkins had accepted the surprising defiance of his wish with + calm dignity and the philosophy of the truly great who are not troubled by + trifles. His lieutenant, Tad Simpson, quoted him as saying that, of + course, the will of the school committee was paramount, and he, as all + good citizens should, bowed to their verdict. “Far be it from me,” so the + great man proclaimed, “to desire that my opinion should carry more weight + than that of the humblest of my friends and neighbors. Speaking as one + whose knowledge of the world was, perhaps—er—more extensive + than—er—others, I favored the Normal School candidate. But the + persons chosen to select thought—or appeared to think—otherwise. + I therefore say nothing and await developments.” + </p> + <p> + This attitude was considered by most of us to reflect credit upon Mr. + Atkins. There were a few scoffers, however. When the proclamation was + repeated to Captain Cy he smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Alpheus,” he said to Mr. Smalley, his informant, “you didn't use to know + Deacon Zeb Clark, who lived up by the salt works in my granddad's time, + hey? No, course you didn't! Well, the deacon was a great believer in his + own judgment. One time, it bein' Saturday, his wife wanted him to pump the + washtub full and take a bath. He said, no; said the cistern was awful low + and 'twould use up all the water. She said no such thing; there was water + a-plenty. To prove she was wrong he went and pried the cistern cover off + to look, and fell in. Mrs. Clark peeked down and saw him there, standin' + up to his neck. + </p> + <p> + “'Tabby,' says he, 'you would have your way and I'm takin' the bath. But + you can see for yourself that we'll have to cart water from now on. + However, <i>I</i> ain't responsible; throw me down the soap and towel.'” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted Smalley, “I don't see what that's got to do with it. + Heman ain't takin' no bath.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know's it's got anything to do with it. But he kind of made me + think of Zeb, all the same.” + </p> + <p> + The first day of school was, of course, a Monday. On Sunday afternoon + Captain Cy and Bos'n went for a walk. These walks had become a regular + part of the Sabbath programme, the weather, of course, permitting. After + church the pair came home for dinner. The meal being eaten, the captain + would light a cigar—a pipe was now hardly “dressed-up” enough for + Sunday—and, taking his small partner by the hand, would lead the way + across the fields, through the pines and down by the meadow “short cut” to + the cemetery. The cemetery is a favorite Sabbath resort for the natives of + Bayport, who usually speak of it as the graveyard. It is a pleasant, shady + spot, and to visit it is considered quite respectable and in keeping with + the day and a due regard for decorum. The ungodly, meaning the summer + boarders and the village no-accounts, seem to prefer the beach and the + fish houses, but the cemetery attracts the churchgoers. One may gossip + concerning the probable cost of a new tombstone and still remain faithful + to the most rigid creed. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was not, strictly speaking, a religious man, according to + Bayport standards. Between his attendance to churchly duties and that of + the Honorable Heman Atkins there was a great gulf fixed. But he rather + liked to visit the graveyard on Sunday afternoons. His mother had been + used to stroll there with him, in his boyhood, and it pleased him to + follow in her footsteps. + </p> + <p> + So he and Bos'n walked along the grass-covered paths, between the + iron-fenced “lots” of the well-to-do and the humble mounds and simple + slabs where the poor were sleeping; past the sumptuous granite shaft of + the Atkins lot and the tilted mossy stone which told how “Edwin Simpson, + our only son,” had been “accidentally shot in the West Indies”; out + through the back gate and up the hill to the pine grove overlooking the + bay. Here, on a scented carpet of pine needles, they sat them down to rest + and chat. + </p> + <p> + Emily, her small knees drawn up and encircled by her arms, looked out + across the flats, now half covered with the rising tide. It was a mild + day, more like August than October, and there was almost no wind. The sun + was shining on the shallow water, and the sand beneath it showed yellow, + checkered and marbled with dark green streaks and patches where the + weed-bordered channels wound tortuously. On the horizon the sand hills of + Wellmouth notched the blue sky. The girl drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Isn't this just lovely! I do like the sea an awful + lot.” + </p> + <p> + “That's natural enough,” replied her companion. “There's a big streak of + salt water in your blood on your ma's side. It pulls, that kind of a + streak does. There's days when I feel uneasy every minute and hanker for a + deck underneath me. The settin' room floor stays altogether too quiet on a + day like that; I'd like to feel it heavin' over a ground swell.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, Bos'n,” he said a few minutes later; “I've been thinkin' about you. + You've been to school, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Course I have,” was the rather indignant answer. “I went two years in + Concord. Mamma used to help me nights, too. I can read almost all the + little words. Don't I help you read your paper 'most every night?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin you do! Yes, yes! Well, our school opens to-morrer and I've been + thinkin' that maybe you'd better go. There's a new teacher comin', and I + hear she's pretty good.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you KNOW? Why, Mr. Tidditt said you was the one that got her to + come here!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; well, Asaph says 'most everything but his prayers. Still, he ain't + fur off this time; I cal'late I was some responsible for her bein' voted + in. Yet I don't really know anything about her. You see, I—well, + never mind. What do you think? Want to go?” + </p> + <p> + Bos'n looked troubled. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to,” she said. “Course I want to learn how to read the big + words, too. But I like to stay at home with you more.” + </p> + <p> + “You do, hey? Sho, sho! Well, I guess I can get along between times. + Georgiana's there to keep me straight and she'll see to the dust and the + dishes. I guess you'd better go to-morrer mornin' and see how you like it, + anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + The child thought for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “I think you're awful good,” she said. “I like you next to mamma; even + better than Auntie Oliver. I printed a letter to her the other day. I told + her you were better than we expected and I had decided to live with you + always.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was startled. Considering that, only the day before, he had + repeated to Bailey the declaration that the arrangement was but temporary, + and that Betsy Howes was escaping responsibility only for a month or so, + he scarcely knew what to say. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he grunted. “You've decided it, have you? Well, we'll see. Now + you trot around and have a good time. I'm goin' to have another smoke. + I'll be here when you get back.” + </p> + <p> + Bos'n wandered off in search of late golden rod. The captain smoked and + meditated. By and by the puffs were less frequent and the cigar went out. + It fell from his fingers. With his back against a pine tree Captain Cy + dozed peacefully. + </p> + <p> + He awoke with a jump. Something had awakened him, but he did not know + what. He blinked and gazed about him. Then he heard a faint scream. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle!” screamed Bos'n. “O—o—o—h! Uncle Cyrus, help me! + Come quick!” + </p> + <p> + The next moment the captain was plunging through the scrub of huckleberry + and bayberry bushes, bumping into pines and smashing the branches aside as + he ran in the direction of the call. + </p> + <p> + Back of the pine grove was a big inclosed pasture nearly a quarter of a + mile long. Its rear boundary was the iron fence of the cemetery. The other + three sides were marked by rail fences and a stone wall. As the captain + floundered from the grove and vaulted the rail fence he swore aloud. + </p> + <p> + “By the big dipper,” he groaned, “it's that cussed heifer! I forgot her. + Keep dodgin', Bos'n girl! I'm comin'.” + </p> + <p> + The pasture was tenanted by a red and white cow belonging to Sylvanus + Cahoon. Whether or not the animal had, during her calfhood days, been + injured by a woman is not known; possibly her behavior was due merely to + innate depravity. At any rate, she cherished a mortal hatred toward human + beings of her own sex. With men and boys she was meek enough, but no + person wearing skirts, and alone, might venture in that field without + being chased by that cow. What would happen if the pursued one was caught + could only be surmised, for, so far, no female had permitted herself to be + caught. Few would come even so near as the other side of the pasture + walls. + </p> + <p> + Bos'n had forgotten the cow. She had gone from one golden-rod clump to + another until she had traversed nearly the length of the field. Then the + vicious creature had appeared from behind a knoll in the pasture and, head + down and bellowing wickedly, had rushed upon her. When the captain reached + the far-off fence, the little girl was dodging from one dwarf pine to the + next, with the cow in pursuit. The pines were few and Bos'n was nearly at + the end of her defenses. + </p> + <p> + “Help!” she screamed. “Oh, uncle, where are you? What shall I do?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy roared in answer. + </p> + <p> + “Keep it up!” he yelled. “I'm a-comin'! Shoot you everlastin' critter! + I'll break your back for you!” + </p> + <p> + The cow didn't understand English it seemed, even such vigorous English as + the captain was using. Emily dodged to the last pine. The animal was close + upon her. Her rescuer was still far away. + </p> + <p> + And then the cemetery gate opened and another person entered the pasture. + A small person—a woman. She said nothing, but picking up her skirts, + ran straight toward the cow, heedless of the latter's reputation and + vicious appearance. One hand clutched the gathered skirts. In the other + she held a book. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be scared, dear,” she called reassuringly. Then to the cow: “Stop + it! Go away, you wicked thing!” + </p> + <p> + The animal heard the voice and turned. Seeing that the newcomer was only a + woman, she lowered her head and pawed the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Run for the gate, little girl,” commanded the rescuer. “Run quick!” Bos'n + obeyed. She made a desperate dash from her pine across the open space, and + in another moment was safe inside the cemetery fence. + </p> + <p> + “Scat! Go home!” ordered the lady, advancing toward the cow and shaking + the book at her, as if the volume was some sort of deadly weapon. “Aren't + you ashamed of yourself! Go away! You needn't growl at me! I'm not a bit + afraid of you.” + </p> + <p> + The “growling” was the muttered bellow with which the cow was wont to + terrorize her feminine victims. But this victim refused to be terrorized. + Instead of screaming and running she continued to advance, brandishing the + book and repeating her orders that the creature “go home” at once. The cow + did not know what to make of it. Before she could decide whether to charge + or retreat, a good-sized stick descended upon her back with a “whack” that + settled the question. Captain Cy had reached the scene of battle. + </p> + <p> + Then the rescuer's courage seemed to desert her, for she ran back to the + cemetery even faster than she had run from it. When the indignant captain, + having pursued and chastised the cow until the stick was but a splintered + remnant, reached the haven behind the iron fence, he found her soothing + the frightened Bos'n who was sobbing and hysterical. + </p> + <p> + Emily saw her “Uncle Cyrus” coming and rushed into his arms. He picked her + up and, holding her with a grip which testified to the nerve strain he had + been under, stepped forward to meet the stranger, whose coming had been so + opportune. + </p> + <p> + And she WAS a stranger. The captain knew most of Bayport's inhabitants by + this time, or thought he did, but he did not know her. She was a small + woman, quietly dressed, and her hair, under a neat black and white hat, + was brown. The hat was now a trifle to one side and the hair was the least + bit disarranged, an effect not at all unbecoming. She was tucking in the + stray wisps as the captain, with Bos'n in his arms, came up. + </p> + <p> + “Well, ma'am!” puffed Captain Cy. “WELL, ma'am! I must say that was the + slickest, pluckiest thing ever I saw anywheres. I don't know what would—I—I + declare I don't know how to thank you.” + </p> + <p> + The lady looked at him a moment before replying. Then she began to laugh, + a jolly laugh that was pleasant to hear. + </p> + <p> + “Don't try, please,” she said chokingly. “It wasn't anything. Oh, mercy + me! I'm all out of breath. You see, I had been warned about that cow when + I started to walk this afternoon. So when I saw her chasing your poor + little girl here I knew right away what was the matter. It must have been + foolish enough to look at. I'm used to dogs and cats, but I haven't had + many pet cows. I told her to 'go home' and to 'scat' and all sorts of + things. Wonder I didn't tell her to lie down! And the way I shook that + ridiculous book at her was—” + </p> + <p> + She laughed again and the captain and Bos'n joined in the laugh, in spite + of the fright they both had experienced. + </p> + <p> + “That book was dry enough to frighten almost anything,” continued the + lady. “It was one I took from the table before I left the place where I'm + staying, and a duller collection of sermons I never saw. Oh, dear! . . . + there! Is my hat any more respectable now?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. It's about on an even keel, I should say. But I must tell you, + ma'am, you done simply great and—” + </p> + <p> + “Seems to me the people who own that cow must be a poor set to let her + make such a nuisance of herself. Did your daughter run away from you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, ma'am, she ain't really my daughter. Bos'n here—that's + my nickname for her, ma'am—she and I was out walkin'. I set down in + the pines and I guess I must have dozed off. Anyhow, when I woke up she + was gone, and the first thing I knew of this scrape was hearin' her hail.” + </p> + <p> + The little woman's manner changed. Her gray eyes flashed indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “You dozed off?” she repeated. “With a little girl in your charge, and in + the very next lot to that cow? Didn't you know the creature chased women + and girls?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes; I'd heard of it, but—” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't Uncle Cyrus's fault,” put in Bos'n eagerly. “It was mine. I + went away by myself.” + </p> + <p> + Beyond shifting her gaze to the child the lady paid no attention to this + remark. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think her mother 'll say when she sees that dress?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + It was Emily's best gown, the finest of the new “rig out” prepared by Miss + Taylor. The girl and Captain Cy gazed ruefully at the rents and pitch + stains made by the vines and pine trees. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see,” replied the abashed captain, “the fact is, she ain't got + any mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I beg your pardon. And hers, too, poor dear. Well, if I were you I + shouldn't go to sleep next time I took her walking. Good afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + She turned and calmly walked down the path. At the bend she spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “I should be gentle with her, if I were you,” she said. “Her nerves are + pretty well upset. Besides, if you'll excuse my saying so, I don't think + she is the one that needs scolding.” + </p> + <p> + They thought she had gone, but she turned once more to add a final + suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “I think that dress could be fixed,” she said, “if you took it to some one + who knew about such things.” + </p> + <p> + She disappeared amidst the graveyard shrubbery. Captain Cy and Bos'n + slowly followed her. From the pasture the red and white cow sent after + them a broken-spirited “Moo!” + </p> + <p> + Bos'n was highly indignant. During the homeward walk she sputtered like a + damp firecracker. + </p> + <p> + “The idea of her talking so to you, Uncle Cyrus!” she exclaimed. “It + wasn't your fault at all.” + </p> + <p> + The captain smiled one-sidedly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about that, shipmate,” he said. “I wouldn't wonder if she + was more than half right. But say! she was all business and no frills, + wasn't she! Ha, ha! How she did spunk up to that heifer! Who in the + dickens do you cal'late she is?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE “COW LADY” + </h3> + <p> + That question was answered the very next day. Bos'n, carefully dressed by + Georgianna under the captain's supervision, and weighted down with advice + and counsel from the latter, started for the schoolhouse at a quarter to + nine. Only a sense of shame kept Captain Cy from walking to school with + her. He spent a miserable forenoon. They were quite the longest three + hours in his varied experience. The house was dreadfully lonely. He + wandered from kitchen to sitting room, worried Georgianna, woke up the + cat, and made a complete nuisance of himself. Twelve o'clock found him + leaning over the gate and looking eagerly in the direction of the + schoolhouse. + </p> + <p> + Bos'n ran all the way home. She was in a high state of excitement. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think, Uncle Cyrus?” she cried. “What DO you think? I've + found out who the cow lady is!” + </p> + <p> + “The cow lady? Oh, yes, yes! Have you? Who is she?” + </p> + <p> + “She's teacher, that's who she is!” + </p> + <p> + The captain was astonished. + </p> + <p> + “No!” he exclaimed. “Phoebe Dawes? You don't say so! Well, well!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. When I went into school and found her sitting there I was so + surprised I didn't know what to do. She knew me, too, and said good + morning, and was I all right again and was my dress really as bad as it + looked to be? I told her that Georgianna thought she could fix it, and if + she couldn't, her sister could. She said that was nice, and then 'twas + time for school to begin.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she say anything about me?” inquired Captain Cy when they were seated + at the dinner table. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! I forgot. She must have found out who you are, 'cause she said + she was surprised that a man who had made his money out of hides should + have been so careless about the creatures that wore 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! How'd she get along with the young ones in school?” + </p> + <p> + It appeared that she had gotten along very well with them. Some of the + bigger boys in the back seats, cherishing pleasant memories of the “fun” + they had under Miss Seabury's easy-going rule, attempted to repeat their + performances of the previous term. But the very first “spitball” which + spattered upon the blackboard proved a disastrous missile for its thrower. + </p> + <p> + “She made him clean the board,” proclaimed Bos'n, big-eyed and awestruck, + “and then he had to stand in the corner. He was Bennie Edwards, and he's + most thirteen. Miss Seabury, they said, couldn't do anything with him, but + teacher said 'Go,' as quiet as could be and just looked at him, and he + went. And he's most as tall as she is. He did look so silly!” + </p> + <p> + The Edwards youth was not the only one who was made to “look silly” by + little Miss Dawes during the first days of her stay in Bayport. She dealt + with the unruly members of her classes as bravely as she had faced the + Cahoon cow, and the results were just as satisfactory. She was strict, but + she was impartial, and Alicia Atkins found, to her great surprise, that + the daughter of a congressman was expected to study as faithfully and + behave herself as well as freckled-faced Noah Hamlin, whose father peddled + fish and whose everyday costume was a checkered “jumper” and patched + overalls. + </p> + <p> + The school committee, that is, the majority of it, was delighted with the + new teacher. Lemuel Myrick boasted loudly of his good judgment in voting + for her. But Tad Simpson and Darius Ellis and others of the Atkins + following still scoffed and hinted at trouble in the future. + </p> + <p> + “A new broom sweeps fine,” quoted Mr. Simpson. “She's doin' all right now, + maybe. Anyway, the young ones are behavin' themselves, but disCIPline + ain't the whole thing. Heman told me that the teacher he wanted could talk + French language and play music and all kinds of accomplishments. Phoebe—not + findin' any fault with her, you understand—don't know no more about + music than a hen; my wife says she don't even sing in church loud enough + for anybody to hear her. And as for French! why everybody knows she uses + the commonest sort of United States, just as easy to understand as what + I'm sayin' now.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes boarded at the perfect boarding house. There opinion was + divided concerning her. Bailey and Mr. Tidditt liked her, but the feminine + boarders were not so favorably impressed. + </p> + <p> + “I think she's altogether too pert about what don't concern her,” + commented Angeline Phinney. “Sarah Emma Simpson dropped in t'other day to + dinner, and we church folks got to talkin' about the minister's preachin' + such 'advanced' sermons. And Sarah Emma told how she'd heard he said he'd + known some real moral Universalists in his time, or some such unreligious + foolishness. And I said I wondered he didn't get a new tail coat; the one + he preached in Sundays was old as the hills and so outgrown it wouldn't + scurcely button acrost him. 'A man bein' paid nine hundred a year,' I + says, 'ought to dress decent, anyhow.' And that Phoebe Dawes speaks up, + without bein' asked, and says for her part she'd ruther hear a broad man + in a narrer coat than t'other way about. 'Twas a regular slap in the face + for me, and Sarah Emma and I ain't got over it yet.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy heard the gossip concerning the new teacher and it rather + pleased him. She appeared to be independent, and he liked independence. He + met her once or twice on the street, but she merely bowed and passed on. + Once he tried to thank her again for her part in the cow episode, but she + would not listen to him. + </p> + <p> + Bos'n was making good progress with her studies. She was naturally a + bright child—not the marvel the captain and the “Board of Strategy” + considered her, but quick to learn. She was not a saint, however, and + occasionally misbehaved in school and was punished for it. One afternoon + she did not return at her usual hour. Captain Cy was waiting at the gate + when Asaph Tidditt happened along. Bailey, too, was with him. + </p> + <p> + “Waitin' for Bos'n, was you?” asked the town clerk. “Well, you'll have to + wait quite a spell, I cal'late. She's been kept after school.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and she's got to write fifty lines of copy,” added Bailey. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was highly indignant. + </p> + <p> + “Get out!” he cried. “She ain't neither.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she has, too. One of the Salters young ones told me. I knew you'd be + mad, though I s'pose folks that didn't know her's well's we do would say + she's no different from other children.” + </p> + <p> + This was close to heresy, according to the captain's opinion. + </p> + <p> + “She ain't!” he cried. “I'd like to know why not! If she ain't twice as + smart as the run of young ones 'round here then—Humph! And she's + kept after school! Well, now; I won't have it! There's enough time for + studyin' without wearin' out her brains after hours. Oh, I guess you're + mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “No, we ain't. I tell you, Whit, if I was you I'd make a fuss about this. + She's a smart child, Bos'n is; I never see a smarter. And she ain't any + too strong.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so, she ain't.” The idea that Emily's health was “delicate” had + become a fixed fact in the minds of the captain and the “Board.” It made a + good excuse for the systematic process of “spoiling” the girl, which the + indulgent three were doing their best to carry on. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't let her be kept, Cy,” urged Bailey. “Why don't you go right + off and see Phoebe and settle this thing? You've got a right to talk to + her. She wouldn't be teacher if it wasn't for you.” + </p> + <p> + Asaph added his arguments to those of Mr. Bangs. Captain Cy, carried away + by his firm belief that Bos'n was a paragon of all that was brilliant and + good, finally yielded. + </p> + <p> + “All right!” he exclaimed. “Come on! That poor little thing shan't be put + upon by nobody.” + </p> + <p> + The trio marched majestically down the hill. As they neared the + schoolhouse Bailey's courage began to fail. Miss Dawes was a boarder at + his house, and he feared consequences should Keturah learn of his + interference. + </p> + <p> + “I—I guess you don't need me,” he stammered. “The three of us 'll + scare that teacher woman most to death. And she's so little and meek, you + know. If I should lose my temper and rare up I might say somethin' that + would hurt her feelin's. I'll set on the fence and wait for you and Ase, + Whit.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt's scornful comments concerning “white feathers” and + “backsliders” had no effect. Mr. Bangs perched himself on the fence. + </p> + <p> + “Give it to her, fellers!” he called after them. + </p> + <p> + “Talk Dutch to her! Let her know that there's one child she can't abuse.” + </p> + <p> + At the foot of the steps Asaph paused. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Cy,” he whispered, “don't you think I better not go in? It ain't + really my business, you know, and—and—Well, I'm on the + s'lectmen and she might be frightened if she see me pouncin' down on her. + 'Tain't as if I was just a common man. I'll go and set along of Bailey and + you go in and talk quiet to her. She'd feel so sort of ashamed if there + was anyone else to hear the rakin' over—hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, see here, Ase,” expostulated the captain, “I don't like to do this + all by myself! Besides, 'twas you chaps put me up to it. You ain't goin' + to pull out of the race and leave me to go over the course alone, are you? + Come on! what are, you afraid of?” + </p> + <p> + His companion hotly denied that he was “afraid” of anything. He had all + sorts of arguments to back his decision. At last Captain Cy lost patience. + </p> + <p> + “Well, BE a skulk, if you want to!” he declared. “I've set out to see this + thing through, and I'm goin' to do it. Only,” he muttered, as he entered + the downstairs vestibule, “I wish I didn't feel quite so much as if I was + stealin' hens' eggs.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes herself opened the door in response to his knock. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's you, Cap'n Whittaker,” she said. “Come in, please.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy entered the schoolroom. It was empty, save for the teacher and + himself and one little girl, who, seated at a desk, was writing busily. + She looked up and blushed a vivid red. The little girl was Bos'n. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Cap'n,” said Miss Phoebe, indicating the visitor's chair. “What + was it you wanted to see me about?” + </p> + <p> + The captain accepted the invitation to be seated, but he did not + immediately reply to Miss Dawes's question. He dropped his hat on the + floor, crossed his legs, uncrossed them, and then observed that it was + pretty summery weather for so late in the fall. The teacher admitted the + truth of his assertion and waited for him to continue. + </p> + <p> + “I—I s'pose school's pretty full, now that cranb'ryin' 's over,” + said Captain Cy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, pretty full.” + </p> + <p> + “Gettin' along first rate with the scholars, I hear.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + This was a most unpromising beginning, really no beginning at all. The + captain cleared his throat, set his teeth, and, without looking at his + companion, dove headlong into the business which had brought him there. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Dawes,” he said, “I—I s'pose you know that Bos'n—I mean + Emily there—is livin' at my house and that I'm taking care of her + for—for the present.” + </p> + <p> + The lady smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said. “I gathered as much from what you said when we first + met.” + </p> + <p> + She herself had said one or two things on that occasion. Captain Cy + remembered them distinctly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” he said hastily. “Well, my doin's that time wasn't exactly the + best sample of the care, I will say. Wan't even a fair sample, maybe. I + try to do my best with the child, long as she stays with me, and—er—and—er—I'm + pretty particular about her health.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Now, Miss Phoebe, I appreciate what you did for Bos'n and me that + Sunday, and I'm thankful for it. I've tried to thank—” + </p> + <p> + “I know. Please don't say any more about it. I imagine there is something + else you want to say, isn't there?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, there is. I—I heard that Emmie had been kept after + school. I didn't believe it, of course, but I thought I'd run up and see + what—” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated. The teacher finished the sentence for him. + </p> + <p> + “To see if it was true?” she said. “It is. I told her to stay and write + fifty lines.” + </p> + <p> + “You did? Well, now that's what I wanted to speak to you about. Course I + ain't interferin' in your affairs, you know, but I just wanted to explain + about Bos'n—Emmie, I mean. She ain't a common child; she's got too + much head for the rest of her. If you'd lived with her same as I have + you'd appreciate it. Her health's delicate.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it? She seems strong enough to me. I haven't noticed any symptoms.” + </p> + <p> + “Course not, else you wouldn't have kept her in. But <i>I</i> know, and I + think it's my duty to tell you. Never mind if she can't do quite so much + writin'. I'd rather she wouldn't; she might bust a blood vessel or + somethin'. Such things HAVE happened, to extry smart young ones. You just + let her trot along home with me now and—” + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Whittaker,” Miss Dawes had risen to her feet with a determined + expression on her face. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma'am,” said the captain, rising also. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Whittaker,” repeated the teacher, “I'm very glad that you called. + I've been rather expecting you might, because of certain things I have + heard.” + </p> + <p> + “You heard? What was it you heard—if you don't mind my askin'?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't, because I think we must have an understanding about Emily. I + have heard that you allow her to do as she pleases at home; in other + words, that you are spoiling her, and—” + </p> + <p> + “SPOILIN' her! <i>I</i> spoilin' her? Who told you such an unlikely yarn + as that? I ain't the kind to spoil anybody. Why, I'm so strict that I'm + ashamed of myself sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + He honestly believed he was. Miss Phoebe calmly continued. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, what you do at home is none of my business. I shouldn't + mention it anyhow, if you hadn't called, because I pay very little + attention to town talk, having lived in this county all my life and + knowing what gossip amounts to. I like Emily; she's a pretty good little + girl and well behaved, as children go. But this you must understand. She + can't be spoiled here. She whispered this afternoon, twice. She has been + warned often, and knows the rule. I kept her after school because she + broke that rule, and if she breaks it again, she will be punished again. I + kept the Edwards boy two hours yesterday and—” + </p> + <p> + “Edwards boy! Do you mean to compare that—that young rip of a Ben + Edwards with a girl like Bos'n? I never heard—” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not comparing anybody. I'm trying to be fair to every scholar in this + room. And, so long as Emily behaves herself, she shall be treated + accordingly. When she doesn't, she shall be punished. You must understand + that.” + </p> + <p> + “But Ben Edwards! Why, he's a wooden-head, same as his dad was a fore him! + And Emmie's the smartest scholar in this town.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, she isn't! She's a good scholar, but there are others just as + good and even quicker to learn.” + </p> + <p> + This was piling one insult upon another. Other children as brilliant as + Bos'n! Captain Cy was bursting with righteous indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” he exclaimed. “Well! for a teacher that we've called to—” + </p> + <p> + “And that's another thing,” broke in Miss Dawes quickly. “I've been told + that you, Cap'n Whittaker, are the one directly responsible for my being + chosen for this place. I don't say that you are presuming on that, but—” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't! I never thought of such a thing!” + </p> + <p> + “But if you are you mustn't, that's all. I didn't ask for the position + and, now that I've got it, I shall try to fill it without regard to one + person more than another. Emily stays here until her lines are written. I + don't think we need to say any more. Good day.” + </p> + <p> + She opened the door. Captain Cy picked up his hat, swallowed hard, and + stepped across the threshold. Then Miss Phoebe added one more remark. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n,” she said, “when you were in command of a ship did you allow + outsiders to tell you how to treat the sailors?” + </p> + <p> + The captain opened his mouth to reply. He wanted to reply very much, but + somehow he couldn't find a satisfying answer to that question. + </p> + <p> + “Ma'am,” he said, “all I can say is that if you'd been in South America, + same as I have, and seen the way them half-breed young ones act, you'd—” + </p> + <p> + The teacher smiled, in spite of an apparent effort not to. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so,” she said, “but this is Massachusetts. And—well, Emily + isn't a half-breed.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy strode through the vestibule. Just before the door closed + behind him he heard a stifled sob from poor Bos'n. + </p> + <p> + The Board of Strategy was waiting at the end of the yard. Its members were + filled with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Did you give it to her good?” demanded Asaph. “Did you let her understand + we wouldn't put up with such cruelizin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Where's Bos'n?” asked Mr. Bangs. + </p> + <p> + Their friend's answers were brief and tantalizingly incomplete. He walked + homeward at a gait which caused plump little Bailey to puff in his efforts + to keep up, and he would say almost nothing about the interview in the + schoolroom. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Tidditt, when they reached the Whittaker gate, “I guess + she knows her place now; hey, Cy? I cal'late she'll be careful who she + keeps after school from now on.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't use no profane language, did you, Cy?” asked Bailey. “I hope not, + 'cause she might have you took up just out of spite. Did she ask your + pardon for her actions?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” roared the captain savagely. Then, banging the gate behind him, he + strode up the yard and into the house. + </p> + <p> + Bos'n came home a half hour later. Captain Cy was alone in the sitting + room, seated in his favorite rocker and moodily staring at nothing in + particular. The girl gazed at him for a moment and then climbed into his + lap. + </p> + <p> + “I wrote my fifty lines, Uncle Cyrus,” she said. “Teacher said I'd done + them very nicely, too.” + </p> + <p> + The captain grunted. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Cy,” whispered Bos'n, putting her arms around his neck, “I'm awful + sorry I was so bad.” + </p> + <p> + “Bad? Who—you? You couldn't be bad if you wanted to. Don't talk that + way or I'll say somethin' I hadn't ought to.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I could be bad, too. I was bad. I whispered.” + </p> + <p> + “Whispered! What of it? That ain't nothin'. When I was a young one in + school I used to whis— . . . Hum! Well, anyhow, don't you think any + more about it. 'Tain't worth while.” + </p> + <p> + They rocked quietly for a time. Then Bos'n said: + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Cyrus, don't you like teacher?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? LIKE her? Well, if that ain't a question? Yes, I like her about as + well as Lonesome likes Eben Salter's dog.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry. I like her ever so much.” + </p> + <p> + “You DO? Go 'long! After the way she treated you, poor little thing!” + </p> + <p> + “She didn't treat me any worse than she does the other girls and boys when + they're naughty. And I did know the rule about whispering.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's different. Comparin' you with that Bennie Edwards—the + idea! And then makin' you cry!” + </p> + <p> + “She didn't make me cry.” + </p> + <p> + “Did, too. I heard you.” + </p> + <p> + The child looked up at him and then hid her face in his waistcoat. + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't crying about her,” she whispered. “It was you.” + </p> + <p> + “ME!” The captain gasped. “Good land!” he muttered. “It's just as I + expected. She's studied too hard and it's touchin' her brain.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, it isn't. It isn't truly. I did cry about you because I didn't + like to hear you talk so. And I was so sorry to have you come there.” + </p> + <p> + “You WAS!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Other children's folks don't come when they're bad. And I kept + feeling so sort of ashamed of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ashamed of ME?” + </p> + <p> + Bos'n nodded vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Everything teacher said sounded so right, and what you said + didn't. And I like to have you always right.” + </p> + <p> + “Do, hey? Hum!” Captain Cy didn't speak again for some few minutes, but he + held the little girl very tight in his arms. At length he drew a long + breath. + </p> + <p> + “By the big dipper, Bos'n!” he exclaimed. “You're a wonder, you are. I + wouldn't be surprised if you grew up to be a mind reader, like that feller + in the show we went to at the townhall a spell ago. To tell you the honest + Lord's truth, I've been ashamed of myself ever since I come out of that + schoolhouse door. When that teacher woman sprung that on me about my + fo'mast hands aboard ship I was set back about forty fathom. I never + wanted to answer anybody so bad in MY life, and I couldn't 'cause there + wasn't anything to say. I cal'late I've made a fool of myself.” + </p> + <p> + Bos'n nodded again. + </p> + <p> + “We won't do so any more, will we?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You bet we won't! <i>I</i> won't, anyhow. You haven't done anything.” + </p> + <p> + “And you'll like teacher?” + </p> + <p> + The captain stamped his foot. + </p> + <p> + “No, SIR!” he declared. “She may be all right in her way—I s'pose + she is; but it's too Massachusettsy a way for me. No, sir! I don't like + her and I WON'T like her. No, sir-ee, never! She—she ain't my kind + of a woman,” he added stubbornly. “That's what's the matter! She ain't my + kind of a woman.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + POLITICS AND BIRTHDAYS + </h3> + <p> + “Town meeting” was called for the twenty-first of November. + </p> + <p> + With the summer boarders gone, the cranberry picking finished, state + election over, school begun and under way, and real winter not yet upon + us, Bayport, in the late fall, distinctly needs something to enliven it. + The Shakespeare Reading Society and the sewing circle continue, of course, + to interest the “women folks,” there is the usual every evening gathering + at Simmons's, and the young people are looking forward to the “Grand Ball” + on Thanksgiving eve. But for the men, on week days, there is little to do + except to “putter” about the house, banking its foundations with dry + seaweed as a precaution against searching no'theasters, whitewashing the + barns and outbuildings, or fixing things in the vegetable cellar where the + sticks of smoked herring hang in rows above the barrels of cabbages, + potatoes, and turnips. The fish weirs, most of them, are taken up, lest + the ice, which will be driven into the bay later on, tear the nets to + pieces. Even the hens grow lazy and lay less frequently. Therefore, away + back in the “airly days,” some far-sighted board of selectmen arranged + that “town meeting” should be held during this lackadaisical season. A + town meeting—and particularly a Bayport town meeting, where + everything from personal affairs to religion is likely to be discussed—can + stir up excitement when nothing else can. + </p> + <p> + This year there were several questions to be talked over and settled at + town meeting. Two selectmen, whose terms expired, were candidates for + re-election. Lem Myrick had resigned from the school committee, not + waiting until spring, as he had announced that he should do. Then there + was the usual sentiment in favor of better roads and the usual opposition + to it. Also there was the ever-present hope of the government + appropriation for harbor improvement. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt was one of the selectmen whose terms expired. In his dual + capacity as selectman and town clerk Asaph felt himself to be a very + important personage. To elect some one else in his place would be, he was + certain, a calamity which would stagger the township. Therefore he was a + busy man and made many calls upon his fellow citizens, not to influence + their votes—he was careful to explain that—but just, as he + said, “to see how they was gettin' along,” and because he “thought + consider'ble of 'em” and “took a real personal interest, you understand,” + in their affairs. + </p> + <p> + To Captain Cy he came, naturally, for encouragement and help, being—as + was his habit at such times—in a state of gloom and hopeless + despair. + </p> + <p> + “No use, Whit,” he groaned. “'Tain't no use at all. I'm licked. I'm + gettin' old and they don't want me no more. I guess I'd better get right + up afore the votin' begins and tell 'em my health ain't strong enough to + be town clerk no longer. It's better to do that than to be licked. Don't + you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure thing!” replied his friend, with sarcasm. “If I was you I'd be toted + in on a bed so they can see you're all ready for the funeral. Might have + the doctor walkin' ahead, wipin' his eyes, and the joyful undertaker + trottin' along astern. What's the particular disease that's got you by the + collar just now—facial paralysis?” + </p> + <p> + “No. What made you think of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin'! Only I heard you stopped in at ten houses up to the west end + of the town yesterday, and talked three quarters of an hour steady at + everyone. That would fit me for the scrap heap inside of a week, and + you've been goin' it ever since September nearly. What does ail you—anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no; nothin' special that way. Only there don't seem to be any + enthusiasm for me, somehow. I just hint at my bein' a candidate and folks + say, 'Yes, indeed. Looks like rain, don't it?' and that's about all.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that hadn't ought to surprise you. If anybody came to me and says, + 'The sun's goin' to rise to-morrer mornin',' I shouldn't dance on my hat + and crow hallelujahs. Enthusiasm! Why, Ase, you've been a candidate every + two years since Noah got the ark off the ways, or along there. And there + ain't been any opposition to you yet, except that time when Uncle 'Bial + Stickney woke up in the wrong place and hollered 'No,' out of principle, + thinkin' he was to home with his wife. If I was you I'd go and take a nap. + You'll read the minutes at selectmen's meetings for another fifty year, + more or less; take my word for it. As for the school committee, that's + different. I ain't made up my mind about that.” + </p> + <p> + There had been much discussion concerning the school committee. Who should + be chosen to replace Mr. Myrick on the board was the gravest question to + come before the meeting. Many names had been proposed at Simmons's and + elsewhere, but some of those named had refused to run, and others had not, + after further consideration, seemed the proper persons for the office. In + the absence of Mr. Atkins, Tad Simpson was our leader in the political + arena. But Tad so far had been mute. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a while,” he said. “There's some weeks afore town meetin' day. This + is a serious business. We can't have no more—I mean no unsuitable + man to fill such an important place as that. The welfare of our + posterity,” he added, and we all recognized the quotation, “depends upon + the choice that's to be made.” + </p> + <p> + A choice was made, however, on the very next day but one after this + declaration. A candidate announced himself. Asaph and Bailey hurried to + the Cy Whittaker place with the news. Captain Cy was in the woodshed + building a doll house for Bos'n. “Just for my own amusement,” he hastily + explained. “Somethin' for her to take along when she goes out West to + Betsy.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt was all smiles. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think, Cy?” he cried. “The new school committee man's as good + as elected. 'Lonzo Snow's goin' to take it.” + </p> + <p> + The captain laid down his plane. + </p> + <p> + “'Lonzo Snow!” he repeated. “You don't say! Humph! Well, well!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir!” exclaimed Bailey. “He's come forward and says it's his duty to + do so. He—” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! His duty, hey? I wonder who pointed it out to him?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know. But even Tad Simpson's glad; he says that he knows + Heman will be pleased with THAT kind of a candidate and so he won't have + to do any more huntin'. He thinks 'Lonzo's comin' out by himself this way + is a kind of special Providence.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes! I shouldn't wonder. Did you ever notice how dead sure Tad and + his kind are that Providence is workin' with 'em? Seems to me 'twould be + more satisfactory if we could get a sight of the other partner's signature + to the deed.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with you?” demanded Asaph. “You ain't findin' fault + with 'Lonzo, are you? Ain't he a good man?” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Sure thing he's good! Nobody can say he isn't and tell the truth.” + </p> + <p> + No one could truthfully speak ill of Alonzo Snow, that was a fact. He + lived at the lower end of the village, was well to do, a leading cranberry + grower, and very prominent in the church. A mild, easygoing person was Mr. + Snow, with an almost too keen fear of doing the wrong thing and therefore + prone to be guided by the opinion of others. He was distinctly not a + politician. + </p> + <p> + “Then what ails you?” asked Asaph hotly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, nothin', maybe. Only I'm always suspicious when Tad pats Providence + on the back. I generally figure that I can see through a doughnut, when + there's a light behind the hole. Who is 'Lonzo's best friend in this town? + Who does he chum with most of anybody?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Darius Ellis, I guess. You know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Um—hum. And Darius is on the committee—why?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I s'pose 'cause Heman Atkins thought he'd be a good feller to have + there. But—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and 'Lonzo's pew in church is right under the Atkins memorial + window. The light from it makes a kind of halo round his bald head every + Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what of it? Heman, nor nobody else, could buy 'Lonzo Snow.” + </p> + <p> + “Buy him? Indeed they couldn't. But there are some things you get without + buyin'—the measles, for instance. And the one that's catchin' 'em + don't know he's in danger till the speckles break out. Fellers, this + committee voted in Phoebe Dawes by just two votes to one, and one of the + two was Lem Myrick. Darius was against her. Now with Tad and his + 'Providence' puttin' in 'Lonzo Snow, and Heman Atkins settin' behind the + screen workin' his Normal School music box so's they can hear the tune—well, + Phoebe MAY stay this term out, but how about next?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Why, I don't know. Anyhow, you're down on Phoebe as a thousand of + brick. I don't see why you worry about HER. After the way she treated poor + Bos'n and all.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy stirred uneasily and kicked a chip across the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “well, I—I don't know's that's—That is, + right's right and wrong's wrong. I've seen bullfights down yonder—” + jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the vague direction of Buenos + Ayres, “and every time my sympathy's been with the bull. Not that I loved + the critter for his own sake, but because all Greaserdom was out to down + him. From what I hear, this Phoebe Dawes—for all her pesky down-East + stubbornness—is teachin' pretty well, and anyhow she's one little + woman against Tad Simpson and Heman Atkins and—and Tad's special + brand of Providence. She deserves a fair shake and, by the big dipper, + she's goin' to have it! Look here, you two! how would I look on the school + committee?” + </p> + <p> + “You?” repeated the pair in concert. “YOU?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, me. I ain't a Solomon for wisdom, but I cal'late I'd be as near the + top of the barrel as Darius Ellis, and only one or two layers under Eben + Salters or 'Lonzo Snow. I'm a candidate—see?” + </p> + <p> + “But—but, Whit,” gasped the town clerk, “are you popular enough? + Could you get elected?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, but I can find out. You and Bailey 'll vote for me, won't + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Course we will, but—” + </p> + <p> + “All right. There's two votes. A hundred and odd more'll put me in. Here + goes for politics and popularity. I may be president yet; you can't tell. + And say! this town meetin' won't be DULL, whichever way the cat jumps.” + </p> + <p> + This last was a safe prophecy. All dullness disappeared from Bayport the + moment it became known that Captain Cyrus Whittaker was “out” for the + school committee. The captain began his electioneering at once. That very + afternoon he called upon three people—Eben Salters, Josiah Dimick, + and Lemuel Myrick. + </p> + <p> + Captain Salters was chairman of selectmen as well as chairman of the + committee. He was a hard-headed old salt, who had made money in the + Australian packet service. He had common sense, independence, and + considerable influence in the town. Next to Congressman Atkins he was, + perhaps, our leading citizen. And, more than all, he was not afraid, when + he thought it necessary, to oppose the great Heman. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said reflectively, after listening to Captain Cy's brief + statement of his candidacy, “I cal'late I'll stand in with you, Cy. I + ain't got anything against 'Lonzo, but—but—well, consarn it! + maybe that's the trouble. Maybe he's so darned good it makes me jealous. + Anyhow, I'll do what I can for you.” + </p> + <p> + Joe Dimick laughed aloud. He was an iconoclast, seldom went to church, and + was entirely lacking in reverence. Also he really liked the captain. + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho!” he crowed. “Whit, do you realize that you're underminin' this + town's constitution? Oh, sartin, I'm with you, if it's only to see the fur + fly! I do love a scrap.” + </p> + <p> + With Lem Myrick Captain Cy's policy was different. He gently reminded that + gentleman of the painting contract, intimated that other favors might be + forthcoming, and then, as a clincher, spoke of Tad Simpson's comment when + Mr. Myrick voted for Phoebe Dawes. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he added, “if you think Tad's got a right to boss all hands + and the cook, why, I ain't complainin'. Only, if <i>I</i> was a painter + doin' a good, high-class trade, and a one-hoss barber tried to dictate to + me, I shouldn't bow down and tell him to kick easy as he could. Seems to + me I'd kick first. But I'M no boss; I mustn't influence you.” + </p> + <p> + Lemuel was indignant. + </p> + <p> + “No barber runs me,” he declared. “You stand up for me when that townhall + paintin's to be done and I'll work hard for you now, Cap'n Whittaker. + 'Lonzo Snow's an elder and all that, but I can't help it. Anyway, his + place was all fixed up a year ago and I didn't get the job. A feller has + to look after himself these days.” + </p> + <p> + With these division commanders to lead their forces into the enemy's + country and with Asaph and Bailey doing what they could to help, Captain + Cy's campaign soon became worthy of respectful consideration. For a while + Tad Simpson scoffed at the opposition; then he began to work openly for + Mr. Snow. Later he marshaled his trusted officers around the pool table in + the back room of the barber shop and confided to them that it was + anybody's fight and that he was worried. + </p> + <p> + “It's past bein' a joke,” he said. “It's mighty serious. We've got to + hustle, we have. Heman trusted me in this job, and if I fall down it 'll + be bad for me and for you fellers, too. I wish he was home to run things + himself, but he's got business down South there—some property he + owns or somethin'—and says he can't leave. But we must win! By + mighty! we've GOT to. So get every vote you can. Never mind how; just get + 'em, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was thoroughly enjoying himself. The struggle suited him to + perfection. He was young, in spite of his fifty-five years, and this + tussle against odds, reminding him of other tussles during his first + seasons in business, aroused his energies and, as he expressed it, + “stirred up his vitals and made him hop round like a dose of 'pain + killer.'” + </p> + <p> + He did not, however, forget Bos'n. He and she had their walks and their + pleasant evenings together in spite of politics. He took the child into + his confidence and told her of the daily gain, or loss, in votes, as if + she were his own age. She understood a little of all this, and tried hard + to understand the rest, preaching between times to Georgianna how “the bad + men were trying to beat Uncle Cyrus because he was gooder than they, but + they couldn't, 'cause everybody loved him so.” Georgianna had some doubts, + but she kept them to herself. + </p> + <p> + Among the things in Bos'n's “box” was a long envelope, sealed with wax and + with a lawyer's name printed in one corner. The captain opened it, at + Emily's suggestion, and was astonished to find that the inclosure was a + will, dated some years back, in which Mrs. Mary Thomas, the child's + mother, left to her daughter all her personal property and also the land + in Orham, Massachusetts, which had been willed to her by her own mother. + There was a note with the will in which Mrs. Thomas stated that no one + save herself had known of this land, not even her husband. She had not + told him because she feared that, like everything else, it would be sold + and the money wasted in dissipation. “He suspected something of the sort,” + she added, “but he did not find out the secret, although he—” She + had evidently scratched out what followed, but Captain Cy mentally filled + in the blank with details of abuse and cruelty. “If anything happens to + me,” concluded the widow, “I want the land sold and the money used for + Emily's maintenance as long as it lasts.” + </p> + <p> + The captain went over to Orham and looked up the land. It was a strip + along the shore, almost worthless, and unsalable at present. The taxes had + been regularly paid each year by Mary Thomas, who had sent money orders + from Concord. The self-denial represented by these orders was not a + little. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Bos'n,” said Captain Cy, when he returned from the Orham + trip. “Your ancestral estates ain't much now but a sand-flea menagerie. + However, if this section ever does get to be the big summer resort folks + are prophesying for it, you may sell out to some millionaire and you and + me'll go to Europe. Meantime, we'll try to keep afloat, if the Harniss + Bank don't spring a leak.” + </p> + <p> + On the day following this conversation he took a flying trip to Ostable, + the county seat, returning the same evening, and saying nothing to anyone + about his reasons for going nor what he had done while there. + </p> + <p> + Bos'n's birthday was the eighteenth of November. The captain, in spite of + the warmth of his struggle for committee honors, determined to have a + small celebration on the afternoon and evening of that day. It was to be a + surprise for Emily, and, after school was over, some of her particular + friends among the scholars were to come in, there was to be a cake with + eight candles on it, and a supper at which ice cream—lemon and + vanilla, prepared by Mrs. Cahoon—was to be the principal feature. + Also there would be games and all sorts of fun. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was tremendously interested in the party. He spent hours with + Georgianna and the Board of Strategy, preparing the list of guests. His + cunning in ascertaining from the unsuspecting child who, among her + schoolmates, she would like to invite, was deep and guileful. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Bos'n,” he would say, “suppose you was goin' to clear out and leave + this town for a spell, who—” + </p> + <p> + “But, Uncle Cyrus—” Bos'n's eyes grew frightened and moist in a + moment, “I ain't going, am I? I don't want to go.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! Course you ain't goin'—that is, not for a long while, + anyhow,” with a sidelong look at the members of the “Board,” then present. + “But just suppose you and me was startin' on that Europe trip. Who'd you + want to say good-by to most of all?” + </p> + <p> + Each name given by the child was surreptitiously penciled by Bailey on a + scrap of paper. The list was a long one and, when the great afternoon + came, the Whittaker house was crowded. + </p> + <p> + The supper was a brilliant success. So was the cake, brought in with + candles ablaze, by the grinning Georgianna. Beside the children there were + some older people present, Bailey and Asaph, of course, and the “regulars” + from the perfect boarding house, who had been invited because it was + fairly certain that Mr. Bangs wouldn't be allowed to attend if his wife + did not. Miss Dawes had also been asked, at Bos'n's well-understood + partiality, but she had declined. + </p> + <p> + Toward the end of the meal, when the hilarity at the long table was at its + height, an unexpected guest made his appearance. There was a knock at the + dining-room door, and Georgianna, opening it, was petrified to behold, + standing upon the step, no less a personage than the Honorable Heman + Atkins, supposed by most of us to be then somewhere in that wide stretch + of territory vaguely termed “the South.” + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, all,” said the illustrious one, removing his silk hat and + stepping into the room. “What a charming scene! I trust I do not intrude.” + </p> + <p> + Georgianna was still speechless, in which unwonted condition she was not + alone, Messrs. Bangs and Tidditt being also stricken dumb. But Captain Cy + rose to the occasion grandly. + </p> + <p> + “Intrude?” he repeated. “Not a mite of it! Mighty glad to see you, Heman. + Here, give us your hat. Pull up to the table. When did you get back? + Thought you was in the orange groves somewheres.” + </p> + <p> + “Ahem! I was. Yes, I was in that neighborhood. But it is hard to stay away + from dear old Bayport. Home ties, you know, home ties. I came down on the + morning train, but I stopped over at Harniss on business and drove across. + Ahem! Yes. The housekeeper informed me that my daughter was here, and, + seeing the lights and hearing the laughter, I couldn't resist making this + impromptu call. I'm sure as an old friend and neighbor, Cyrus, you will + pardon me. Alicia, darling, come and kiss papa.” + </p> + <p> + Darling Alicia accepted the invitation with a rustle of silk and an + ecstatic squeal of delight. During this affecting scene Asaph whispered to + Bailey that he “cal'lated” Heman had had a hurry-up distress signal from + Simpson; to which sage observation Mr. Bangs replied with a vigorous nod, + showing that Captain Cy's example had had its effect, in that they no + longer stood in such awe of their representative at Washington. + </p> + <p> + However true Asaph's calculation might have been, Mr. Atkins made no + mention of politics. He was urbanity itself. He drew up to the table, + partook of the ice cream and cake, and greeted his friends and neighbors + with charming benignity. + </p> + <p> + “Wan't it sweet of him to come?” whispered Miss Phinney to Keturah. “And + him so nice and everyday and sociable. And when Cap'n Whittaker's runnin' + against his friend, as you might say.” + </p> + <p> + Keturah replied with a dubious shake of the head. + </p> + <p> + “I think Captain Cyrus is goin' to get into trouble,” she said. “I've + preached to Bailey more 'n a little about keepin' clear, but he won't.” + </p> + <p> + “Games in t'other room now,” ordered Captain Cy. But Mr. Atkins held up + his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, just a moment, Cyrus, if you please,” he said. “I feel that on + this happy occasion, it is my duty and pleasure to propose a toast.” He + held his lemonade glass aloft. “Permit me,” he proclaimed, “to wish many + happy birthdays and long life to Miss—I beg pardon, Cyrus, but what + is your little friend's name?” + </p> + <p> + “Emily Richards Thayer,” replied the captain, carried away by enthusiasm + and off his guard for once. + </p> + <p> + “To Em—” began Heman. Then he paused and for the first time in his + public life seemed at a loss for words. “What?” he asked, and his hand + shook. “I fear I didn't catch the name.” + </p> + <p> + “No wonder,” laughed Mr. Tidditt. “Cy's so crazy to-night he'd forget his + own name. Know what you said, Cy? You said she was Emily Richards THAYER! + Haw! haw! She ain't a Thayer, Heman; her last name's Thomas. She's Emily + Richards Thayer's granddaughter though. Her granddad was John Thayer, over + to Orham. Good land! I forgot. Well, what of it, Cy? 'Twould have to be + known some time.” + </p> + <p> + Everyone looked at Captain Cy then. No one observed Mr. Atkins for the + moment. When they did turn their gaze upon the great man he had sunk back + in his chair, the glass of lemonade was upset upon the cloth before him, + and he, with a very white face, was staring at Emily Richards Thomas. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Heman?” asked the captain anxiously. “Ain't sick, are + you?” + </p> + <p> + The congressman started. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” he said hurriedly. “Oh, no! but I'm afraid I've soiled your + cloth. It was awkward of me. I—I really, I apologize—I—” + </p> + <p> + He wiped his face with his handkerchief. Captain Cy laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind the tablecloth,” he said. “I cal'late it's too soiled + already to be hurt by a bath, even a lemon one. Well, you've all heard the + toast. Full glasses, now. Here's TO you, Bos'n! Drink hearty, all hands, + and give the ship a good name.” + </p> + <p> + If the heartiness with which they drank is a criterion, the good name of + the ship was established. Then the assembly adjourned to the sitting room + and—yes, even the front parlor. Not since the days when that sacred + apartment had been desecrated by the irreverent city boarders, during the + Howes regime, had its walls echoed to such whoops and shouts of laughter. + The children played “Post Office” and “Copenhagen” and “Clap in, Clap + out,” while the grown folks looked on. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't they havin' a fine time, Cap?” gushed Miss Phinney. “Don't it make + you wish you was young again?” + </p> + <p> + “Angie,” replied Captain Cy solemnly, “don't tempt me; don't! If they keep + on playin' that Copenhagen and you stand right alongside of me, there's no + tellin' what 'll happen.” + </p> + <p> + Angeline declared that he was “turrible,” but she faced the threatened + danger nevertheless, and bravely remained where she was. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins went home early in the evening, taking Alicia with him. He + explained that his long railroad journey had—er—somewhat + fatigued him and, though he hated to leave such a—er—delightful + gathering, he really felt that, under the circumstances, his departure + would be forgiven. Captain Cy opened the door for him and stood watching + as, holding his daughter by the hand, he marched majestically down the + path. + </p> + <p> + “Hum!” mused the captain aloud. “I guess he has been travelin' nights. + Thought he ought to be here quick, I shouldn't wonder. He does look tired, + that's a fact, and kind of pale, seemed to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there, now!” exclaimed Mrs. Tripp, who was looking over his + shoulder. “Did you see that?” + </p> + <p> + “No; what was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, when he went to open his gate, one of them arbor vity bushes he set + out this spring knocked his hat off. And he never seemed to notice, but + went right on. If 'Licia hadn't picked it up, that nice new hat would have + been layin' there yet. That's the most undignified thing ever I see Heman + Atkins do. He MUST be tired out, poor man!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + A LETTER AND A VISITOR + </h3> + <p> + “Whit,” asked Asaph next day, “wan't you surprised to see Heman last + night?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy nodded. He was once more busy with the doll house, the + construction of which had progressed slowly of late, owing to the demands + which the party and politics made upon its builder's time. + </p> + <p> + “Yup,” he said, “I sartinly was. Pretty good sign, I shouldn't wonder. + Looks as if friend Tad had found the tide settin' too strong against him + and had whistled for a tug. All right; the more scared the other side get, + the better for us.” + </p> + <p> + “But what in the world made Heman come over and have supper? He never so + much as stepped foot in the house afore, did he? That's the biggest + conundrum of all.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess I've got the answer. Strikes me that Heman's sociableness + is the best sign yet. Heman's a slick article, and when he sees there's + danger of losin' the frostin' on the cake he takes care to scrape the + burnt part off the bottom. I may be school committeeman after town + meetin'. He'll move all creation to stop me, of course—in his quiet, + round-the-corner way—but, if I do win out, he wants to be in a + position to take me one side and tell me that he's glad of it; he felt all + along I was the right feller for the job, and if there's anything he can + do to make things easier for me just call on him. That's the way I size it + up, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Cy, I never see anybody like you. You're dead set against Heman, and have + been right along. And he's never done anything to you, fur's I see. He's + given a lot to the town, and he's always been the most looked-up-to man + we've got. Joe Dimick and two or three more chronic growls have been the + only ones to sling out hints against him, till you come. Course I'm + working for you, tooth and nail, and I will say that you seem to be + gettin' the votes some way or other. But if Heman SHOULD step right out + and say: 'Feller citizens, I'm behind Tad Simpson in this fight, and as a + favor to me and 'cause I think it's right and best, I want 'Lonzo Snow + elected'—well, <i>I</i> don't believe you'd have more'n one jack and + a ten spot to count for game.” + </p> + <p> + “Probably not, Ase; I presume likely not. But you take a day off some time + and see if you can remember that Heman EVER stepped right out and said + things. Blame it! that's just it. As for WHY he riles me up and makes me + stubborn as a balky mule, I don't know exactly. All I'm sure is that he + does. Maybe it's 'cause I don't like the way he wears his whiskers. Maybe + it's because he's so top-lofty and condescendin'. A feller can whistle to + me and say: 'Come on, Bill,' and I'll trot at his heels all day. But when + he pats me on the head and says: 'There there! nice doggie. Go under the + bed and lay down,' my back bristles up and I commence to growl right off. + There's consider'ble Whittaker in me, as I've told you before.” + </p> + <p> + The town clerk pondered over this rather unsatisfactory line of reasoning + for some minutes. His companion fitted a wooden chimney on the doll house, + found it a trifle out of plumb, and proceeded to whittle a shaving off the + lower edge. Then Asaph sighed, as one who gives up a perplexing riddle, + put his hand in his pocket, and produced a bundle of papers. + </p> + <p> + “I made out a list of fellers down to the east'ard that I'm goin' to see + this afternoon,” he said. “Some of 'em I guess 'll vote for you, but most + of 'em are pretty sartin' for 'Lonzo. However, I—Where is that list? + I had it somewhere's. And—well, I swan! I come pretty near + forgettin' it myself. I'm 'most as bad as Bailey.” + </p> + <p> + From the bundle of papers he produced a crumpled envelope. + </p> + <p> + “That Bailey,” he observed, “must be in love, I cal'late, though I don't + know who with. Ketury, I s'pose, 'cordin' to law and order, but—Well, + anyhow, he's gettin' more absent-minded all the time. Here's a letter for + you, Cy, that he got at the post-office a week ago Monday. 'Twas the night + of the church sociable, and he had on his Sunday cutaway, and he ain't + worn it sence, till the party yesterday. When he took off the coat, goin' + to bed, the letter fell out of it. I guess he was ashamed to fetch it + round himself, so he asked me to do it. Better late than never, hey? + Here's that list at last.” + </p> + <p> + He produced the list and handed it to the captain for inspection. The + latter looked it over, made a few comments and suggestions, and told his + friend to heave ahead and land as many of the listed as possible. This Mr. + Tidditt promised to do, and, replacing the papers in his pocket, started + for the gate. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Say, Ase!” + </p> + <p> + The town clerk, his hand on the gate latch, turned. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is it?” he asked. “Don't keep me no longer'n you can help. I + got work to do, I have.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, I won't stop you. Only fallin' in love is kind of epidemic + down at the boardin' house, I guess. Who is it that's got you in tow—Matildy?” + </p> + <p> + “What are you talkin' about? Didn't I tell you to quit namin' me with + Matildy Tripp? I like a joke as well as most folks, but when it's wore + into the ground I—” + </p> + <p> + “Sho, sho! Don't get mad. It's your own fault. You said that + absent-mindedness was a love symptom, so I just got to thinkin', that's + all. That letter that Bailey forgot—you haven't given it to me yet.” + </p> + <p> + Asaph turned red and hastily snatched the papers from his pocket. He + strode back to the door of the woodshed, handed his friend the crumpled + envelope, and stalked off without another word. The captain chuckled, laid + the letter on the bench beside him and went on with his work. It was + perhaps ten minutes later when, happening to glance at the postmark on the + envelope, he saw that it was “Concord, N. H.” + </p> + <p> + Asaph's vote-gathering trip “to the east'ard” made a full day for him. He + returned to the perfect boarding house just at supper time. During the + meal he realized that Mr. Bangs seemed to be trying to attract his + attention. Whenever he glanced in that gentleman's direction his glance + was met by winks and mystifying shakes of the head. Losing patience at + last, he demanded to know what was the matter. + </p> + <p> + “Want to say somethin' to me, do you?” he inquired briskly. “If you do, + out with it! Don't set there workin' your face as if 'twas wound up, like + a clockwork image.” + </p> + <p> + This remark had the effect of turning all the other faces toward Bailey's. + He was very much upset. + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” he stammered. “No, no! I don't want you for nothin'. Was I + makin' my face go? I—I didn't know it. I've been washin' carriages + and cleanin' up the barn all day and I cal'late I've overdone. I'm gettin' + old, and hard work's likely to bring on shakin' palsy to old folks.” + </p> + <p> + His wife tartly observed that, if WORK was the cause of it, she guessed he + was safe from palsy for quite a spell yet. At any rate, a marked recovery + set in and he signaled no more during the meal. But when it was over, and + his task as dish-wiper completed, he hurried out of doors and found Mr. + Tidditt, shivering in the November wind, on the front porch. + </p> + <p> + “Now what is it?” asked Asaph sharply. “I know there's somethin' and I've + froze to death by sections waitin' to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen Cy?” whispered Bailey, glancing fearfully over his shoulder + at the lighted windows of the house. + </p> + <p> + “No, not sence mornin'. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's somethin' the matter with him. Somethin' serious. I was + swabbin' decks in the barn about eleven o'clock, when he come postin' in, + white and shaky, and so nervous he couldn't stand still. Looked as if he + had had a stroke almost. I—” + </p> + <p> + “Godfrey scissors! You don't s'pose Heman's comin' back has knocked out + his chances for the committee, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir-ee! 'twan't that. Cy's anxious to be elected and all, but you + know his politics are more of a joke with him than anything else. And any + rap Heman or Tad could give him would only make him fight harder. And he + wouldn't talk politics at all; didn't seem to give a durn about 'em, one + way or t'other. No, 'twas somethin' about that letter, the one I forgot so + long. He wanted to know why in time I hadn't given it to him when it fust + come. He was real ugly about it, for him, and kept pacin' up and down the + barn floor and layin' into me, till I begun to think he was crazy. I guess + he see my feelin's were hurt, 'cause, just afore he left, he held out his + hand and said I mustn't mind his talk; he'd been knocked on his beam ends, + he said, and wan't really responsible.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't he say what had knocked him?” + </p> + <p> + “No, couldn't get nothin' out of him. And when he quit he went off toward + home, slappin' his fists together and actin' as if he didn't see the road + across his bows. Now, you know how cool and easy goin' Whit generally is. + I swan to man, Ase! he made me so sorry for him I didn't know what to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you been up to see him sence?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Ketury was sot on havin' the barn cleaned, and she stood over me with + a rope's end, as you might say. I couldn't get away a minute, though I + made up more'n a dozen errands at Simmons's and the like of that. You hold + on till I sneak into the entry and get my cap and we'll put for there now. + I won't be but a jiffy. I'm worried.” + </p> + <p> + They entered the yard of the Cy Whittaker place together and approached + the side door. As they stood on the steps Asaph touched his chum on the + arm and pointed to the window beside them. The shade was half drawn and + beneath it they had a clear view of the interior of the sitting room. + Captain Cy was in the rocker before the stove, holding Bos'n in his arms. + The child was sound asleep, her yellow braid hanging over the captain's + broad shoulder. He was gazing down into her face with a look which was so + full of yearning and love that it brought a choke into the throats of the + pair who saw it. + </p> + <p> + They entered the dining room. The captain sprang from his chair and, still + holding the little girl close against his breast, met them at the + sitting-room door. When he saw who the visitors were, he caught his + breath, almost with a sob, and seemed relieved. + </p> + <p> + “S-s-h-h!” he whispered warningly. “She's asleep.” + </p> + <p> + The members of the Board of Strategy nodded understandingly and sat down + upon the sofa. Captain Cy tiptoed to the bedroom, turned back the + bedclothes with one hand and laid Bos'n down. They saw him tuck her + carefully in and then stoop and kiss her. He returned to the sitting room + and closed the door behind him. + </p> + <p> + “We see she was asleep afore we come in,” explained Asaph. “We see you and + her through the window.” + </p> + <p> + The captain looked hurriedly at the window indicated. Then he stepped over + and pulled the shade down to the sill, doing the same with the curtains of + the other two windows. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” inquired Bailey, trying to be facetious. “'Fraid of + 'Lonzo's crowd spyin' on us?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy did not reply. He did not even sit down, but remained standing, + his back to the stove. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” he asked shortly. “Did you fellers want to see me for anything + 'special?” + </p> + <p> + “Wanted to see what had struck you all to once,” replied Mr. Tidditt. + “Bailey says you scared him half to death this forenoon. And you look now + as if somebody's ghost had riz and hollered 'Boo!' at you. For the land + sakes, Whit, what IS it?” + </p> + <p> + The captain drew his hand across his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Ghost?” he repeated absently. “No, I haven't SEEN a ghost. There! there! + don't mind me. I ain't real well to-day, I guess.” He smiled crookedly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you want to hear about my vote-grabbin' cruise?” asked Tidditt. “I + was flatterin' myself you'd be tickled to hear I'd done so well. Why, even + Marcellus Parker says he may vote for you—if he makes up his mind + that way.” + </p> + <p> + Marcellus was a next-door neighbor of Alonzo Snow's. But Captain Cy didn't + seem to care. + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” he murmured. “Yes. Well?” + </p> + <p> + “WELL! Is that all you've got to say? Are you really sick, Cy? Or is Bos'n + sick?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” was the answer, almost fierce in its utterance. “She isn't sick. + Don't be a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “What's foolish about that? I didn't know but she might be. There's mumps + in town and—” + </p> + <p> + “She's all right; so shut up, will you! There, Ase!” he added. “I'm the + fool myself. Don't mind my barkin'; I don't mean it. I am about sick, I + cal'late. Be better to-morrer, maybe.” + </p> + <p> + “What's got into you? Was that letter of Bailey's—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” The captain held up his hand. “I thought I heard a team.” + </p> + <p> + “Depot wagon, most likely,” said Bailey. “About time for it! Humph! seems + to be stoppin', don't it? Was you expectin' anybody? Shall I go and—” + </p> + <p> + “No! Set still.” + </p> + <p> + The pair on the sofa sat still. Captain Cy stood like a statue in the + middle of the floor. He squared his shoulders and jammed his clenched + fists into his pockets. Steps crunched the gravel of the walk. There came + a knock at the door of the dining room. + </p> + <p> + Walking steadily, but with a face set as the figurehead on one of his own + ships, the captain went to answer the knock. They heard the door open, and + then a man's voice asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is this Cap'n Whittaker?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” was the short answer. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Cap, I guess you don't know me, though maybe you know some of my + family. Ha, ha! Don't understand that, hey? Well, you let me in and I'll + explain the joke.” + </p> + <p> + The captain's reply was calm and deliberate. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't wonder if I understood it,” he said. “Come in. Don't—” + The remainder of the sentence was whispered and the listeners on the sofa + could not hear it. A moment later Captain Cy entered the sitting room, + followed by his caller. + </p> + <p> + The latter was a stranger. He was a broad-shouldered man of medium height, + with a yellowish mustache and brown hair. He was dressed in rather shabby + clothes, without an overcoat, and he had a soft felt hat in his hand. The + most noticeable thing about him was a slight hesitancy in his walk. He was + not lame, he did not limp, yet his left foot seemed to halt for an instant + as he brought it forward in the step. They learned afterwards that it had + been hurt in a mine cave-in. He carried himself with a swagger, and, after + his entrance, there was a perceptible aroma of alcohol in the room. + </p> + <p> + He stared at the Board of Strategy and the stare was returned in full + measure. Bailey and Asaph were wildly curious. They, of course, connected + the stranger's arrival with the mysterious letter and the captain's + perturbation of the day. + </p> + <p> + But their curiosity was not to be satisfied, at least not then. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, gents?” hailed the newcomer cheerfully. “Like the looks of + me, do you?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy cut off further conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Ase,” he said, “this—er—gentleman and I have got some + business to talk over. I know you're good enough friends of mine not to + mind if I ask you to clear out. You'll understand. You WILL understand, + boys, won't you?” he added, almost entreatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Sartin sure!” replied Mr. Tidditt, rising hurriedly. “Don't say another + word, Whit.” And the mystified Bangs concurred with a “Yes, yes! Why, of + course! Didn't have nothin' that amounts to nothin' to stay for anyhow. + See you to-morrer, Cy.” + </p> + <p> + Outside and at the gate they stopped and looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” exclaimed Asaph. “If that ain't the strangest thing! Who was that + feller? Where'd he come from? Did you notice how Cy acted? Seemed to be + holdin' himself in by main strength.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you smell the rum on him?” returned Bailey. “On that t'other chap, I + mean? Didn't he look like a reg'lar no-account to you? And say, Ase, + didn't he remind you of somebody you'd seen somewheres—kind of, in a + way?” + </p> + <p> + They walked home in a dazed state, asking unanswerable questions and + making profitless guesses. But Asaph's final remark seemed to sum up the + situation. + </p> + <p> + “There's trouble comin' of this, Bailey,” he declared. “And it's trouble + for Cy Whittaker, I'm afraid. Poor old Cy! Well, WE'LL stand by him, + anyhow. I don't believe he'll sleep much to-night. Didn't look as though + he would, did he? Who IS that feller?” + </p> + <p> + If he had seen Captain Cy, at two o'clock the next morning, sitting by + Bos'n's bedside and gazing hopelessly at the child, he would have realized + that, if his former predictions were wiped off the slate and he could be + judged by the one concerning the captain's sleepless night, he might + thereafter pose as a true prophet. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + A BARGAIN OFF + </h3> + <p> + “Mornin', Georgianna,” said Captain Cy to his housekeeper as the latter + unlocked the back door of the Whittaker house next morning. “I'm a little + ahead of you this time.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Taylor, being Bayport born and bred, was an early riser. She lodged + with her sister, in Bassett's Hollow, a good half mile from the Cy + Whittaker place, but she was always on hand at the latter establishment by + six each morning, except Sundays. Now she glanced quickly at the clock. + The time was ten minutes to six. + </p> + <p> + “Land sakes!” she exclaimed. “I should say you was! What in the world got + you up so early? Ain't sick, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the captain wearily. “I ain't sick. I didn't sleep very well + last night, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + Georgianna looked sharply at him. His face was haggard and his eyes had + dark circles under them. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” she grunted. “No, I guess you didn't. Looks to me as if you'd + been up all night.” Then she added an anxious query: “'Tain't Bos'n—she + ain't sick, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “No. She's all right. I say, Georgianna, you put on an extry plate this + mornin'. Got company for breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper was surprised. + </p> + <p> + “For breakfast?” she repeated. “Land of goodness! who's comin' for + breakfast? I never heard of company droppin' in for breakfast. That's one + meal folks generally get to home. Who is it? Mr. Tidditt? Has Ketury + turned him out door because he's too bad an example for her husband?” + </p> + <p> + “No, 'tain't Ase. It's a—a friend of mine. Well, not exactly a + friend, maybe, but an acquaintance from out of town. He came last evenin'. + He's up in the spare bedroom.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I never! Come unexpected, didn't he? I wish I'd known he was + comin'. That spare room bed ain't been aired I don't know when.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess he can stand it. I cal'late he's slept in consider'ble worse—Hum! + Yes, he did come kind of sudden.” + </p> + <p> + “What's his name?” + </p> + <p> + “What difference does that make? I don't know's his name makes any odds + about gettin' his breakfast for him.” + </p> + <p> + Georgianna was hurt. Her easy-going employer had never used this tone + before when addressing her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she sniffed. “Is THAT the way you feel? All right! I can mind my own + business, thank you. I only asked because it's convenient sometimes to + know whether to call a person Bill Smith or Sol Jones. But I don't care if + it's Nebuchadnezzar. I know when to keep my tongue still, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + She flounced over to the range. Captain Cy looked ashamed of himself. + </p> + <p> + “I'm kind of out of sorts to-day,” he said. “Got some headache. Why, his + name is—is—yes, 'tis Smith, come to think of it—John + Smith. Funny you should guess right, wan't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” was the ungracious answer. “Names don't interest me, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + The captain was in the dining room when Bos'n appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Uncle Cyrus,” she said. “You've been waiting, haven't you? + Am I late? I didn't mean to be.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! you ain't late. Early, if anything. Breakfast ain't quite ready + yet. Come here and set in my lap. I want to talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + He took her on his knee. She looked up into his face. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Uncle Cy?” she asked. “What makes you so sober?” + </p> + <p> + “Sober? If you ain't the oldest young one for eight years I ever saw! Why, + I ain't sober. No, no! Say, Bos'n, do you like your school as well as + ever?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I like it better all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “Do, hey? And that teacher woman—go on likin' her?” + </p> + <p> + The child nodded emphatically. “Yes, sir,” she said. “And I haven't been + kept after since that once.” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! sho! Course you ain't'! So you think Bayport's as nice as Concord, + do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! lots nicer! If mamma was only here I'd never want to be anywhere + else. And not then, maybe, unless you was there, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Want to know! Say, Bos'n, how would you feel if you had to go + somewheres else?” + </p> + <p> + “To live? Have we got to? I'd feel dreadful, of course. But if you've got + to go, Uncle Cyrus, why—” + </p> + <p> + “Me? No; I ain't got to go anywheres. But 'twas you I was thinkin' of. + Wouldn't want to leave the old man, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “To leave YOU! Oh, Uncle Cyrus!” + </p> + <p> + She was staring at him now and her chin was trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle,” she demanded, “you ain't going to send me away? Haven't I been a + good girl?” + </p> + <p> + The captain's lips shut tight. He waited a moment before replying. “'Deed + you've been a good girl!” he said brusquely. “I never saw a better one. + No, I ain't goin' to SEND you away. Don't you worry about that.” + </p> + <p> + “But Alicia Atkins said one time you told somebody you was going to send + me out West, after a while. I didn't believe it, then, she's so mean, but + she said you said—” + </p> + <p> + “SAID!” Captain Cy groaned. “The Lord knows what I ain't said! I've been a + fool, dearie, and it's a judgment on me, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + “But ain't you goin' to keep me? I—I—” + </p> + <p> + She sobbed. The captain stroked her hair. + </p> + <p> + “Keep you?” he muttered. “Yes, by the big dipper! I'm goin' to keep you, + if I can—if I can.” + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” said a voice. The pair looked up. The man who had arrived on the + previous night stood in the sitting-room doorway. How long he had been + standing there the captain did not know. What he did know was that Mr. + John Smith by daylight was not more prepossessing than the same individual + viewed by the aid of a lamp. + </p> + <p> + Emily saw the stranger and slid from Captain Cy's knees. The captain rose. + </p> + <p> + “Bos'n,” he said, “this is Mr.—er—Smith, who's goin' to make + us a little visit. I want you to shake hands with him.” + </p> + <p> + The girl dutifully approached Mr. Smith and extended her hand. He took it + and held it in his own. + </p> + <p> + “Is this the—” he began. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy bowed assent. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, his eyes fixed on the visitor's face. “Yes. Don't forget + what you said last night.” + </p> + <p> + Smith shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he replied. “I ain't the kind that forgets, unless it pays pretty + well. There's some things I've remembered for quite a few years.” + </p> + <p> + He looked the child over from head to foot and his brows drew together in + an ugly frown. + </p> + <p> + “So this is her, hey?” he muttered musingly. “Humph! Well, I don't know as + I'd have guessed it. Favors the other side of the house more—the + respectable side, I should say. Still, there's a little brand of the lost + sheep, hey? Enough to prove property, huh? Mark of the beast, I s'pose the + psalm-singin' relations would call it. D—n em! I—” + </p> + <p> + “Steady!” broke in the captain. Mr. Smith started, seemed to remember + where he was, and his manner changed. + </p> + <p> + “Come and see me, honey,” he coaxed, drawing the girl toward him by the + hand he was holding. “Ain't you got a nice kiss for me this fine mornin'? + Don't be scared. I won't bite.” + </p> + <p> + Bos'n looked shrinkingly at Mr. Smith's unshaven cheeks and then at + Captain Cy. The latter's face was absolutely devoid of expression. He + merely nodded. + </p> + <p> + So Emily kissed one of the bristling cheeks. The kiss was returned full + upon the mouth. She wiped her lips and darted away to her chair by the + table. + </p> + <p> + “What's your hurry?” inquired the visitor. “Don't I do it right? Been some + time since I kissed a girl—a little one, anyhow,” he added, winking + at his host. “Never mind, we'll know each other better by and by.” + </p> + <p> + He looked on in wondering disgust as Bos'n said her “grace.” + </p> + <p> + “What in blazes!” he burst out when the little blessing was finished. “Who + put her up to that? A left-over from the psalm-singers, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” answered the captain, speaking with deliberation. “I do + know that I like to have her do it and that she shall do it as long's + she's at this table.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! she shall, hey? Well, I reckon—” + </p> + <p> + “She shall—AS LONG AS SHE'S AT THIS TABLE. Is that real plain and + understandable, or shall I write it down?” + </p> + <p> + There was an icy clearness in the captain's tone which seemed to freeze + further conversation on the part of Mr. Smith. He merely grunted and ate + his breakfast in silence. He ate a great deal and ate it rapidly. + </p> + <p> + Bos'n departed for school when the meal was over. Captain Cy helped her on + with her coat and hood. Then, as he always did of late, he kissed her + good-by. + </p> + <p> + “Hi!” called Mr. Smith from the sitting room. “Ain't I in on that? If + there's any kisses goin' I want to take a hand before the deal's over.” + </p> + <p> + “Must I?” whispered Bos'n pleadingly. “Must I, Uncle Cy? I don't want to. + I don't like him.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on!” called Mr. Smith. “I'm gettin' over my bashfulness fast. Hurry + up!” + </p> + <p> + “Must I kiss him, Uncle Cyrus?” whispered Bos'n. “MUST I?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” snapped the captain sharply. “Trot right along now, dearie. Be a + good girl. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + He entered the sitting room. His guest had found the Sunday box and was + lighting one of his host's cigars. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he inquired easily, “what's next on the bill? Anything goin' on in + this forsaken hole?” + </p> + <p> + “There's a barber shop down the road. You might go there first, I should + say. Not that you need it, but just as a novelty like.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I don't know. What's the matter with your razor?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin'. At least I ain't found anything wrong with it yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Say, look here! you're a queer guy, you are. I ain't got you right in + my mind yet. One minute butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, and the next + you're fresh as a new egg. What IS your little game, anyway? You've got + one, so don't tell me you ain't.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was plainly embarrassed. He gazed at the “Shore to Shore” + picture on the wall as he answered. + </p> + <p> + “No game about it,” he said. “Last night you and I agreed that nothin' was + to be said for a few days. You was to stay here and I'd try to make you + comfort'ble, that's all. Then we'd see about that other matter, settle on + a fair price, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. That's all right. But you're too willin'. There's something + else. Say!” The ugly scowl was in evidence again. “Say, look here, you! + you ain't got somethin' up your sleeve, have you? There ain't somethin' + more that I don't know about, is there? No more secrets than that—” + </p> + <p> + “No! You hear me? No! You'll get your rights, and maybe a little more than + your rights, if you're decent. And it'll pay you to be decent.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” Mr. Smith seemed to be thinking. Then he added, looking up keenly + under his brows: “How about the—the incumbrance on the property? Of + course, when I go I'll have to take that with me, and—” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “There! there!” he exclaimed, and there was a shake in his voice, “there! + there! Don't let's talk about such things now. I—I—Let's wait + a spell. We'll have some more plans to make, maybe. If you want to use my + razor it's right in that drawer. Just help yourself.” + </p> + <p> + The visitor laughed aloud. He nodded as if satisfied. “Ho! ho!” he + chuckled. “I see! Humph! yes—I see. The fools ain't all dead, and + there's none to beat an old one. Well! well! All right, pard! I guess you + and me'll get along fine. I've changed my mind; I WILL go to the barber + shop, after all. Only I'm a little shy of dust just at present. So, to + oblige a friend, maybe you'll hand over, huh?” + </p> + <p> + The captain reached into his pocket, extracted a two-dollar bill, and + passed it to the speaker. Mr. Smith smiled and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “You can't come in on that, pard,” he said. “The limit's five.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy took back the bill and exchanged it for one with a V in each + corner. The visitor took it and turned toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “Ta! ta!” he said, taking his hat from the peg in the dining room. “I'm + off for the clippers. When I come back I'll be the sweetest little Willie + in the diggin's. So long.” + </p> + <p> + Bos'n and the captain sat down to the dinner at noon alone. Mr. Smith had + not returned from his trip to the barber's. He came in, however, just + before the meal was over, still in an unshorn condition, somewhat flushed + and very loquacious. + </p> + <p> + “Say!” he exclaimed genially. “That Simpson's the right sort, ain't he? + Him and me took a shine to each other from the go-off. He's been West + himself and he's got some width to him. He's no psalm singer.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” commented the captain, with delicate sarcasm. “He don't seem to + be much of a barber, either. What's the matter? Gone out of business, has + he? Or was you so wild or woolly he got discouraged before he begun?” + </p> + <p> + “Great snakes!” exclaimed the visitor. “I forgot all about the clippers! + Well, that's one on me, pard! I'll make a new try soon's grub's over. + Don't be so tight-fisted with the steak; this is a plate I'm passin', not + a contribution box.” + </p> + <p> + He winked at Bos'n and would have chucked her under the chin if she had + not dodged. She seemed to have taken a great aversion to Mr. Smith and was + plainly afraid of him. + </p> + <p> + “Is he going to stay very long, Uncle Cyrus?” she whispered, when it was + school time once more. “Do you think he's nice?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy did not answer. When she had gone and the guest had risen from + the table and put on his hat, the captain said warningly: + </p> + <p> + “There's one little bit of advice I want to give you, Mister Man: A + bargain's a bargain, but it takes two to keep it. Don't let your love for + Tad Simpson lead you into talkin' too much. Talk's cheap, they say, but + too much of it might be mighty dear for you. Understand?” + </p> + <p> + Smith patted him on the back. “Lord love you, pard!” he chuckled, “I'm no + spring chicken. I'm as hard to open as a safe, I am. It takes a can opener + to get anything out of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; well, you can get inside some folks easier with a corkscrew. I've + been told that Tad's a kind of a medium sometimes. If he raises any + spirits in that back room of his, I'd leave 'em alone, if I was you. So + long as you're decent, I'll put up with—” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Smith was on his way to the gate, whistling as if he hadn't a care + in the world. Captain Cy watched him go down the road, and then, with the + drawn, weary look on his face which had been there since the day before, + he entered the sitting room and threw himself into a chair. + </p> + <p> + Miss Phoebe Dawes, the school teacher, worked late that evening. There + were examination papers to be gone over, and experience had demonstrated + that the only place where she could be free from interruptions was the + schoolroom itself. At the perfect boarding house the shrill tones of + Keturah's voice and those of Miss Phinney and Mrs. Tripp penetrated + through shut doors. It is hard to figure percentages when the most + intimate details of Bayport's family life are being recited and gloated + over on the other side of a thin partition. And when Matilda undertook to + defend the Come-Outer faith against the assaults of the majority, the + verbal riot was, as Mr. Tidditt described it, “like feedin' time in a + parrot shop.” + </p> + <p> + So Miss Phoebe came to the boarding house for supper and then returned to + the schoolroom, where, with a lighted bracket lamp beside her on the desk, + she labored until nine o'clock. Then she put on her coat and hat, + extinguished the light, locked the door, and started on her lonely walk + home. + </p> + <p> + “The main road” in our village is dark after nine o clock. There is a + street light—a kerosene lamp—on a post in front of the + Methodist meeting house, but the sexton forgets it, generally speaking, + or, at any rate, neglects to fill it except at rare intervals. Simmons's + front windows are ablaze, of course, and so are the dingy panes of + Simpson's barber shop. But these two centers of sociability are both at + the depot road corner, and when they are passed the only sources of + illumination are the scattered gleams from the back windows of dwellings. + As most of us retire by half-past eight, the glow along the main road is + not dazzling, to say the very least. + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes was not afraid of the dark. She had been her own escort for a + good many years. She walked briskly on, heard the laughter and loud voices + in the barber shop die away behind her, passed the schoolhouse pond, now + bleak and chill with the raw November wind blowing across it, and began to + climb the slope of Whittaker's Hill. And here the wind, rushing in + unimpeded over the flooded salt meadows from the tumbled bay outside, + wound her skirts about her and made climbing difficult and breath-taking. + </p> + <p> + She was, perhaps, half way up the long slope, when she heard, in the + intervals between the gusts, footsteps behind her. She knew most of the + village people by this time and the thought of company was not unpleasant. + So she paused and pantingly waited for whoever was coming. She could not + see more than a few yards, but the footsteps sounded nearer and nearer, + and, a moment later, a man's voice began singing “Annie Rooney,” a melody + then past its prime in the cities, but popularized in Bayport by some + departed batch of summer boarders. + </p> + <p> + She did not recognize the voice and she did not particularly approve of + singing in the streets, especially such loud singing. So she decided not + to wait longer, and was turning to continue her climb, when the person + behind stopped his vocalizing and called. + </p> + <p> + “Hi!” he shouted. “Hello, ahead there! Who is it? Hold on a minute, pard! + I'm comin'.” + </p> + <p> + She disobeyed the order to “hold on,” and began to hurry. The hurry was of + no avail, however, for the follower broke into a run and soon was by her + side. He was a stranger to her. + </p> + <p> + “Whee! Wow!” he panted. “This is no race track, pard. Pull up, and let's + take it easy. My off leg's got a kink in it, and I don't run so easy as I + used to. Great snakes; what's your rush? Ain't you fond of company? Hello! + I believe it's a woman!” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer. His manner and the smell of liquor about him were + decidedly unpleasant. The idea that he might be a tramp occurred to her. + Tramps are our bugaboos here in Bayport. + </p> + <p> + “A woman!” exclaimed the man hilariously. “Well, say! I didn't believe + there was one loose in this tail-end of nowhere. Girlie, I'm glad to see + you. Not that I can see you much, but never mind. All cats are gray in the + dark, hey? You can't see me, neither, so we'll take each other on trust. + 'She's my sweetheart, I'm her beau.' Say, Maud, may I see you home?” + </p> + <p> + She was frightened now. The Whittaker place on the hilltop was the nearest + house, and that was some distance off. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Carrie?” inquired the man. “Don't be scared. I + wouldn't hurt you. I'm just lonesome, that's all, and I need society. + Don't rush, you'll ruin your complexion. Here! come under my wing and + let's toddle along together. How's mamma?” + </p> + <p> + He seized her arm and pulled her back beside him. She tried to free + herself, but could not. Her unwelcome escort held her fast and she was + obliged to move as slowly as he did. It was very dark. + </p> + <p> + “Say, what IS your name?” coaxed the man. “Is is Maud, hey? Or Julia? I + always liked Julia. Don't be peevish. Tell us, that's a good girl.” + </p> + <p> + She gave a quick jerk and managed to pull her arm from his grasp, giving + him a violent push as she did so. He, being unsteady on his feet, tumbled + down the low bank which edged the sidewalk. Then she ran on up the hill as + fast as she could. She heard him swear as he fell. + </p> + <p> + She had nearly reached the end of the Whittaker fence when he caught her. + He was laughing, and that alarmed her almost as much as if he had been + angry. + </p> + <p> + “Naughty! naughty!” he chuckled, holding her fast. “Tryin' to sneak, was + you? Not much! Not this time! Did you ever play forfeits when you was + little? Well, this is a forfeit game and you're It. You must bow to the + prettiest, kneel to the wittiest, and kiss the one you love best. And I'll + let you off on the first two. Come now! Pay up!” + </p> + <p> + Then she screamed. And her scream was answered at once. A gate swung back + with a bang and she heard some one running along the walk toward her. + </p> + <p> + “O Cap'n Whittaker!” she called. “Come! Come quick, please!” + </p> + <p> + How she knew that the person running toward her was Captain Cy has not + been satisfactorily explained even yet. She cannot explain it and neither + can the captain. And equally astonishing was the latter's answer. He + certainly had not heard her voice often enough to recognize it under such + circumstances. + </p> + <p> + “All right, teacher!” he shouted. “I'm comin'! Let go of that woman, you—Oh, + it's you, is it?” + </p> + <p> + He had seized Mr. Smith by the coat collar and jerked him away from his + victim. Miss Dawes took refuge behind the captain's bulky form. The two + men looked at each other. Smith was recovering his breath. + </p> + <p> + “It's you, is it?” repeated Captain Cy. Then, turning to Miss Phoebe, he + asked: “Did he hurt you?” + </p> + <p> + “No! Not yet. But he frightened me dreadfully. Who is he? Do you know + him?” + </p> + <p> + Her persecutor answered the question. + </p> + <p> + “You bet your life he knows me!” he snarled. “He knows me mighty well! + Pard, you keep your nose out of this, d'you see! You mind your own + business. I wan't goin' to hurt her any.” + </p> + <p> + The captain paid no attention to him. + </p> + <p> + “Yup, I know him,” he said grimly. Then he added, pointing toward the + lighted window of the house ahead: “You—Smith, you go in there and + stay there! Trot! Don't make me speak twice.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Smith was too far gone with anger and the “spirits” raised by Tad + Simpson to heed the menace in the words. + </p> + <p> + “Smith, hey?” he sneered. “Oh, yes, SMITH! Well, Smith ain't goin', d'you + see! He's goin' to do what he pleases. I reckon I'm on top of the roost + here! I know what's what! You can't talk to me. I've got rights, I have, + and—” + </p> + <p> + “Blast your rights!” + </p> + <p> + “What? WHAT? Blast my rights, hey? Oh, yes! Think because you've got money + you can cheat me out of 'em, do you? Well, you can't! And how about the + other part of those rights? S'pose I walk right into that house and—” + </p> + <p> + “Stop it! Shut up! You'd better not—” + </p> + <p> + “And into that bedroom and just say: 'Emmie, here's your—'” + </p> + <p> + He didn't finish the sentence. Captain Cy's big fist struck him fairly + between the eyes, and the back of his head struck the walk with a “smack!” + Then, through the fireworks which were illuminating his muddled brain, he + heard the captain's voice. + </p> + <p> + “You low - down, good - for - nothin' scamp!” growled Captain Cy. “All + this day I've been hatin' myself for the way I've acted to you. I've hated + myself and been tryin' to spunk up courage to say 'It's all off!' But I + was too much of a coward, I guess. And now the Lord A'mighty has MADE me + say it. You want your rights, do you? So? Then get 'em if you can. It's + you and me for it, and we'll see who's the best man. Teacher, if you're + ready I'll walk home with you now.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smith was not entirely cowed. + </p> + <p> + “You go!” he yelled. “Go ahead! And I'll go to a lawyer's to-morrow. But + to-night, and inside of five minutes, I'll walk into that house of yours + and get my—” + </p> + <p> + The captain dropped Miss Dawes's arm and strode back to where his + antagonist was sitting in the dust of the walk. Stooping down, he shook a + big forefinger in the man's face. + </p> + <p> + “You've been out West, they tell me,” he whispered sternly. “Yes! Well, + out West they take the law into their own hands, sometimes, I hear. I've + been in South America, and they do it there, too. Just so sure as you go + into my house to-night and touch—well, you know what I mean—just + so sure I'll kill you like a dog, if I have to chase you to Jericho. Now + you can believe that or not. If I was you I'd believe it.” + </p> + <p> + Taking the frightened schoolmistress by the arm once more he walked away. + Mr. Smith said nothing till they had gone some distance. Then he called + after them. + </p> + <p> + “You wait till to-morrow!” he shouted. “You just wait and see what'll + happen to-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was silent all the way to the gate of the perfect boarding + house. Miss Dawes was silent likewise, but she thought a great deal. At + the gate she said: + </p> + <p> + “Captain Whittaker, I'm EVER so much obliged to you. I can't thank you + enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't try, then. That's what you said to me about the cow.” + </p> + <p> + “But I'm almost sorry you were the one to come. I'm afraid that man will + get you into trouble. Has he—can he—What did he mean about + to-morrow? Who IS he?” + </p> + <p> + The captain pushed his cap back from his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Teacher,” he said, “there's a proverb, ain't there, about lettin' + to-morrow take care of itself? As for trouble—well, I did think I'd + had trouble enough in my life to last me through, but I cal'late I've got + another guess. Anyhow, don't you fret. I did just the right thing, and I'm + glad I did it. If it was only me I wouldn't fret, either. But there's—” + He stopped, groaned, and pulled the cap forward again. “Good night,” he + added, and turned to go. + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes leaned forward and detained him. + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute, Cap'n Whittaker,” she said. “I was a little prejudiced + against you when I came here. I was told that you got me the teacher's + position, and there was more than a hint that you did it for selfish + reasons of your own. When you called that afternoon at the school I was—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't say a word! I was the biggest fool in town that time, and I've been + ashamed to look in the glass ever since. I ain't always such an idiot.” + </p> + <p> + “But I've had to judge people for myself in my lifetime,” continued the + schoolmistress, “and I've made up my mind that I was mistaken about you. I + should like to apologize. Will you shake hands?” + </p> + <p> + She extended her hand. Captain Cy hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Hadn't you better wait a spell?” he asked. “You've heard that swab call + me partner. Hadn't—” + </p> + <p> + “No; I don't know what your trouble is, of course, and I certainly shan't + mention it to anyone. But whatever it is I'm sure you are right and it's + not your fault. Now will you shake hands?” + </p> + <p> + The captain did not answer. He merely took the proffered hand, shook it + heartily, and strode off into the dark. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + “TOWN-MEETIN'” + </h3> + <p> + “This is goin' to be a meMOriable town meetin'!” declared Sylvanus Cahoon, + with unction, rising from the settee to gaze about him over the heads of + the voters in the townhall. “I bet you every able-bodied man in Bayport + 'll be here this forenoon. Yes, sir! that's what I call it, a me-MO-riable + meetin'!” + </p> + <p> + “See anything of Cy?” inquired Josiah Dimick, who sat next to Sylvanus. + </p> + <p> + “No, he ain't come yet. And Heman ain't here, neither. Hello! there's Tad. + Looks happy, seems to me.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Dimick stood up to inspect Mr. Simpson. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he muttered. “Well, unless my count's wrong, he ain't got much to + be happy about. 'Lonzo Snow's with him. Tad does look sort of joyful, + don't he? Them that laughs last laughs best. When the vote for school + committee's all in we'll see who does the grinnin'. But I can't understand—Hello! + there's Tidditt. Asaph! Ase! S-s-t-t! Come here a minute.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt, trembling with excitement, and shaking hands effusively with + everyone he met, pushed his way up the aisle and bent over his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Ase,” whispered Josiah, “where's Whit? Why ain't he on hand? + Nothin's happened, has it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the town clerk. “Everything seems to be all right. I stopped + in on the way along and Cy said not to wait; he'd be here on time. He's + been kind of off his feed for the last day or so, and I cal'late he didn't + feel like hurryin'. Say, Joe, now honest, what do you think of my + chances?” + </p> + <p> + Such a confirmed joker as Dimick couldn't lose an opportunity like this. + With the aid of one trying to be cheerful under discouragement he answered + that, so far, Asaph's chances looked fair, pretty fair, but of course you + couldn't always sometimes tell. Mr. Tidditt rushed away to begin the + handshaking all over again. + </p> + <p> + From this round of cordiality he was reluctantly torn and conducted to the + platform. After thumping the desk with his fist he announced that the + gathering would “come to order right off, as there was consider'ble + business to be done and it ought to be goin' ahead.” He then proceeded to + read the call for the meeting. This ceremony was no sooner over than + Abednego Small, “Uncle Bedny,” was on his feet loudly demanding to be + informed why the town “hadn't done nothin'” toward fixing up the Bassett's + Hollow road. Uncle Bedny's speech had proceeded no further than “Feller + citizens, in the name of an outrageous—I should say outraged portion + of our community I—” when he was choked off by a self-appointed + committee who knew Mr. Small of old and had seated themselves near him to + be ready for just such emergencies. The next step, judged by meetings of + other years, should have been to unanimously elect Eben Salters moderator; + but as Captain Eben refused to serve, owing to his interest in the + Whittaker campaign, Alvin Knowles was, by a small majority, chosen for + that office. Mr. Knowles was a devout admirer of the great Atkins, and his + election would have been considered a preliminary victory for the + opposition had it not been that many of Captain Cy's adherents voted for + Alvin from a love of mischief, knowing from experience his ignorance of + parliamentary law and his easy-going rule. “Now there'll be fun!” declared + one delighted individual. “Anything's in order when Alvin's chairman.” + </p> + <p> + The proceedings of the first half hour were disappointingly tame. Most of + us had come there to witness a political wrestling match between Tad + Simpson and Cyrus Whittaker. Some even dared hope that Congressman Atkins + might direct his fight in person. But neither the Honorable nor Captain Cy + was in the hall as yet. Solon Eldridge was re-elected selectman and so + also was Asaph Tidditt. Nobody but Asaph seemed surprised at this result. + His speech of acceptance would undoubtedly have been a triumph of oratory + had it not been interrupted by Uncle Bedny, who rose to emphatically + protest against “settin' round and wastin' time” when the Bassett's Hollow + road “had ruts deep enough to drown a cat in whenever there was a more'n + average heavy dew.” + </p> + <p> + The Bassett's Hollow delegate being again temporarily squelched, Moderator + Knowles announced that nominations for the vacant place on the school + committee were in order. There was a perceptible stir on the settees. This + was what the meeting had been waiting for. + </p> + <p> + “No sign of Cy or Heman yet,” observed Mr. Cahoon, craning his neck in the + direction of the door. “It's the queerest thing ever I see.” + </p> + <p> + “Queer enough about Cy, that's a fact,” concurred Captain Dimick. “I ain't + so surprised about Heman's not comin'. Looks as if Whit was right; he + always said Atkins dodged a row where folks could watch it. Does most of + his fightin' from round the corner. Hello! there's Tad. Now you'll see the + crown of glory set on 'Lonzo Snow's head. Hope the crown's padded nice and + soft. Anything with sharp edges would sink in.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Simpson, it seemed, was not yet ready to proceed with the + coronation. He had risen to ask permission of the meeting to defer the + school committee matter for a short time. Persons, important persons, who + should be present while the nominating was going on, had not yet arrived. + He was sure that the gathering would wish to hear from these persons. He + asked for only a slight delay. Matters such as this, affecting the welfare + of our posterity, ought not to be hurried, etc., etc. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Simpson's request was unexpected. The meeting, apparently, didn't know + how to take it. Uncle Bedny was firmly held in his seat by those about + him. Lemuel Myrick took the floor to protest. + </p> + <p> + “I must say,” he declared, “that I don't see any reason for waitin'. If + folks ain't here, that's their own fault. Mr. Moderator, I demand that the + nominatin' go ahead.” + </p> + <p> + Tad was on his feet instantly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' to appeal,” he cried, “to the decency and gratitude of the + citizens of the town of Bayport. One of the persons I'm—that is, + we're waitin' for has done more for our beautiful village than all the + rest of us put together. There ain't no need for me to name him. A right + up-to-date town pump, a lovely memorial window, a—” + </p> + <p> + “How about that harbor appropriation?” cried a voice from the settees. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Simpson was taken aback. His face flushed and he angrily turned toward + the interrupter. + </p> + <p> + “That's you, Joe Dimick!” he shouted, pointing an agitated forefinger. + “You needn't scooch down. I know your tongue. The idea of you findin' + fault because a big man like Congressman Atkins don't jump when you holler + 'Git up!' What do YOU know about doin's at Washington? That harbor + appropriation 'll go through if anybody on earth can get it through. + There's other places besides Bayport to be provided for and—” + </p> + <p> + “And their congressmen provide for 'em,” called another voice. Tad whirled + to face his new tormentor. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” he grunted with sarcasm. “That's Lem Myrick, <i>I</i> know. Lem, + the great painter, who votes where he paints and gets paid accordin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Order!” cried several. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right, Mr. Moderator! I'll keep order all right. But I say to + you, Lem, and you, Joe Dimick, that I know who put these smart notions + into your heads. We all know, unless we're born fools. Who is it that's + been sayin' the Honorable Heman Atkins was shirkin' that appropriation? + Who was it said if HE was representative the thing would have gone through + afore this? Who's been makin' his brags that he could get it through if he + had the chance? You know who! So do I! I wish he was here. I only wish he + was here! I'd say it to his face.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he is. Heave ahead and say it.” + </p> + <p> + Everyone turned toward the door. Captain Cy had entered the hall. He was + standing in the aisle, and with him was Bailey Bangs. The captain looked + very tired, almost worn out, but he nodded coolly to Mr. Simpson, who had + retired to his seat with surprising quickness and apparent discomfiture. + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, Tad,” continued the captain. “Say your piece.” + </p> + <p> + But Tad, it appeared, was not anxious to “say his piece.” He was + whispering earnestly with a group of his followers. Captain Cy held up his + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Moderator,” he asked, “can I have the floor a minute? All I want to + say is that I cal'late I'm the feller the last speaker had reference to. I + HAVE said that I didn't see why that appropriation was so hard to get. I + say it again. Other appropriations are got, and why not ours? I DID say if + I was a congressman I'd get it. Yes, and I'll say more,” he added, raising + his voice, “I'll say that if I was sent to Washin'ton by this town, + congressman or not, I'd move heaven and earth, and all creation from the + President down till I did get it. That's all. So would any live man, I + should think.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down. There was some applause. Before it had subsided Abel Leonard, + one of the quickest-witted of Mr. Simpson's workers, was on his feet, + gesticulating for attention. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Moderator,” he shouted, “I want to make a motion. We've all heard the + big talk that's been made. All right, then! I move you, sir, that Captain + Cyrus Whittaker be appointed a committee of one to GO to Washin'ton, if he + wants to, or anywheres else, and see that we get the appropriation. And if + we don't get it the blame's his! There, now!” + </p> + <p> + There was a roar of laughter. This was exactly the sort of “tit-for-tat” + humor that appeals to a Yankee crowd. The motion was seconded half a dozen + times. Moderator Knowles grinned and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “A joke's a joke,” he said, “and we all like a good one. However, this + meetin' is supposed to be for business, not fun, so—” + </p> + <p> + “Question! Question! It's been seconded! We've got to vote on it!” shouted + a chorus. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think—seems to me that ain't in order,” began the + moderator, but Captain Cy rose to his feet. The grim smile had returned to + his face and he looked at the joyous assemblage with almost his old + expression of appreciative alertness. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind the vote,” he said. “I realize that Brother Leonard has rather + got one on me, so to speak. All right, I won't dodge. I'll BE a committee + of one on the harbor grab, and if nothin' comes of it I'll take my share + of kicks. Gentlemen, I appreciate your trustfulness in my ability.” + </p> + <p> + This brief speech was a huge success. If, for a moment, the pendulum of + public favor had swung toward Simpson, this trumping of the latter's + leading card pushed it back again. The moderator had some difficulty in + restoring order to the hilarious meeting. + </p> + <p> + Then Mr. Myrick was accorded the privilege of the floor, in spite of Tad's + protests, and proceeded to nominate Cyrus Whittaker for the school + committee. Lem had devoted hours of toil and wearisome mental struggle to + the preparation of his address, and it was lengthy and florid. Captain Cy + was described as possessing all the virtues. Bailey, listening with a hand + behind his ear, was moved to applause at frequent intervals, and even + Asaph forgot the dignity of his exalted position on the platform and + pounded the official desk in ecstasy. The only person to appear + uninterested was the nominee himself. He sat listlessly in his seat, his + eyes cast down, and his thoughts apparently far away. + </p> + <p> + Josiah Dimick seconded the captain's nomination. Then Mr. Simpson stepped + to the front and, after a wistful glance at the door, began to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Feller citizens,” he said, “it is my privilege to put in nomination for + school committee a man whose name stands for all that's good and clean and + progressive in this township. But afore I do it I'm goin' to ask you to + let me say a word or two concernin' somethin' that bears right on this + matter, and which, I believe, everyone of you ought to know. It's + somethin' that most of you don't know, and it'll be a surprise, a big + surprise. I'll be as quick as I can, and I cal'late you'll thank me when + I'm done.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. The meeting looked at each other in astonishment. There was + whispering along the settees. Moderator Knowles was plainly puzzled. He + looked inquiringly at the town clerk, but Asaph was evidently quite as + much in the dark as he concerning the threatened disclosure. + </p> + <p> + “Feller Bayporters,” went on Tad, “there's one thing we've all agreed on, + no matter who we've meant to vote for. That is, that a member of our + school committee should be an upright, honest man, one fit morally to look + out for our dear children. Ain't that so? Well, then, I ask you this: + Would you consider a man fit for that job who deliberately came between a + father and his child, who pizened the mind of that child against his own + parent, and when that parent come to claim that child, first tried to buy + him off and then turned him out of the house? Yes, and offered violence to + him. And done it—mark what I say—for reasons which—which—well, + we can only guess 'em, but the guess may not be so awful bad. Is THAT the + kind of man we want to honor or to look out for our own children's + schoolin'?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Simpson undoubtedly meant to cause a sensation by his opening remarks. + He certainly did so. The stir and whispering redoubled. Asaph, his mouth + open, stared wildly down at Captain Cy. The captain rose to his feet, then + sank back again. His listlessness was gone and, paying no attention to + those about him, he gazed fixedly at Tad. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” continued the speaker, “last night I had an experience that I + shan't forget as long as I live. I met a poor man, a poor, lame man who'd + been away out West and got hurt bad. Folks thought he was dead. His wife + thought so and died grievin' for him. She left a little baby girl, only + seven or eight year old. When this man come back, well again but poor, to + look up his family, he found his wife had passed away and the child had + been sent off, just to get rid of her, to a stranger in another town. That + stranger fully meant to send her off, too; he said so dozens of times. A + good many of you folks right here heard him say it. But he never sent her—he + kept her. Why? Well, that's the question. <i>I</i> shan't answer it. <i>I</i> + ain't accusin' nobody. All I say is, what's easy enough for any of you to + prove, and that is that it come to light the child had property belongin' + to her. Property! land, wuth money!” + </p> + <p> + He paused once more and drew his sleeve across his forehead. Most of his + hearers were silent now, on tiptoe of expectation. Dimick looked + searchingly at Captain Cy. Then he sprang to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Order!” he shouted. “What's all this got to do with nominatin' for school + committee? Ain't he out of order, Alvin?” + </p> + <p> + The moderator hesitated. His habitual indecision was now complicated by + the fact that he was as curious as the majority of those before him. There + were shouts of, “Go ahead, Tad!” “Tell us the rest!” “Let him go on, Mr. + Moderator!” + </p> + <p> + Cy Whittaker slowly rose. + </p> + <p> + “Alvin,” he said earnestly, “don't stop him yet. As a favor to me, let him + spin his yarn.” + </p> + <p> + Simpson was ready and evidently eager to spin it. + </p> + <p> + “This man,” he proclaimed, “this father, mournin' for his dead wife and + longin' for his child, comes to the town where he was to find and take + her. And when he meets the man that's got her, when he comes, poor and + down on his luck, what does this man—this rich man—do? Why; + fust of all, he's sweeter'n sirup to him, takes him in, keeps him + overnight, and the next day he says to him: 'You just be quiet and say + nothin' to nobody that she's your little girl. I'll make it wuth your + while. Keep quiet till I'm ready for you to say it.' And he gives the + father money—not much, but some. All right so fur, maybe; but wait! + Then it turns out that the father knows about this land—this + property. And THEN the kind, charitable man—this rich man with lots + of money of his own—turns the poor father out, tellin' him to get + the girl and the land if he can, knowin'—KNOWIN', mind you—that + the father ain't got a cent to hire lawyers nor even to pay for his next + meal. And when the father says he won't go, but wants his dear one that + belongs to him, the rich feller abuses him, knocks him down with his fist! + Knocks down a poor, weak, lame invalid, just off a sick bed! Is THAT the + kind of a man we want on our school committee?” + </p> + <p> + He asked the question with both hands outspread and the perspiration + running down his cheeks. The meeting was in an uproar. + </p> + <p> + “No need for me to tell you who I mean,” shouted Tad, waving his arms. + “You know who, as well as I do. You've just heard him praised as bein' all + that's good and great. But <i>I</i> say—” + </p> + <p> + “You've said enough! Now let me say a word!” + </p> + <p> + It was Captain Cy who interrupted. He had pushed his way through the + crowd, down the aisle, and now stood before the gesticulating Mr. Simpson, + who shrank back as if he feared that the treatment accorded the “poor weak + invalid” might be continued with him. + </p> + <p> + “Knowles,” said Captain Cy, turning to the moderator, “let me speak, will + you? I won't be but a minute. Friends,” he continued, facing the excited + gathering—“for some of you are my friends, or I've come to think you + are—a part of what this man says is so. The girl at my house is + Emily Thomas; her mother was Mary Thomas, who some of you know, and her + father's name is Henry Thomas. She came to me unexpected, bein' sent by a + Mrs. Oliver up to Concord, because 'twas either me or an orphan asylum. I + took her in meanin' to keep her a little while, and then send her away. + But as time went on I kept puttin' off and puttin' off, and at last I + realized I couldn't do it; I'd come to think too much of her. + </p> + <p> + “Fellers,” he went on, slowly, “I—I hardly know how to tell you what + that little girl's come to be to me. When I first struck Bayport, after + forty years away from it, all I thought of was makin' over the old place + and livin' in it. I cal'lated it would be a sort of Paradise, and HOW I + was goin' to live or whether or not I'd be lonesome with everyone of my + folks dead and gone, never crossed my mind. But the longer I lived there + alone the less like Paradise it got to be; I realized more and more that + it ain't furniture and fixin's that make a home; it's them you love that's + in it. And just as I'd about reached the conclusion that 'twas a failure, + the whole business, why, then, Bos'n—Emily, that is—dropped + in, and inside of a week I knew I'd got what was missin' in my life. + </p> + <p> + “I never married and children never meant much to me till I got her. She's + the best little—little . . . There! I mustn't talk this way. I + bluffed a lot about not keepin' her permanent, bein' kind of ashamed, I + guess, but down inside me I'd made up my mind to bring her up like a + daughter. She and me was to live together till she grew up and got married + and I . . . Well, what's the use? A few days ago come a letter from the + Oliver woman in Concord sayin' that this Henry Thomas, Bos'n's father, + wan't dead at all, but had turned up there, havin' learned somehow or + 'nother that his wife was gone and that his child had been willed a little + bit of land which belonged to her mother. He had found out that Emmie was + with me, and the letter said he would likely come after her—and the + land. + </p> + <p> + “That letter was like a flash of lightnin' to me. I was dismasted and on + my beam ends. I didn't know what to do. I'd learned enough about this + Henry Thomas to know that he was no use, a drunken, good-for-nothin' scamp + who had cruelized his wife and then run off and left her and the baby. But + when he come, the very night I got the letter, I gave him a chance. I took + him in; I was willin' to give him a job on the place; I was willin' to pay + for his keep, and more. I DID ask him to keep his mouth shut and even to + use another name. 'Twas weak of me, maybe, but you want to remember this + had come on me sudden. And last night—the very second night, mind + you—he went out somewhere, perhaps we can guess where, bought liquor + with the money I gave him, got drunk, and then insulted one of the best + women in this town. Yes, sir! I say it right here, one of the best, + pluckiest little women anywhere, although she and I ain't always agreed on + certain matters. I DID tell him to clear out, and I DID knock him down. + Yes, and by the big dipper, I'd do it again under the same circumstances! + </p> + <p> + “As for the property,” he added fiercely, “why, darn the property, I say! + It ain't wuth much, anyhow, and, if 'twas anybody's else, he should have + it and welcome. But it's Bos'n's, and, bein' what he is, he SHAN'T have + it. And he shan't have HER to cruelize, neither! By the Almighty! he + shan't, so long as I've got a dollar to fight him with. I say that to you, + Tad Simpson, and to the man—to whoever put you up to this. There! + I've said my say. Now, gentlemen, you can choose your side.” + </p> + <p> + He strode back to his seat. There was silence for a moment. Then Josiah + Dimick sprang up and waved his hat. + </p> + <p> + “That's the way to talk!” he shouted. “That's a MAN! Three cheers for + Cap'n Whittaker! Come on, everybody!” + </p> + <p> + But everybody did not “come on.” The cheers were feeble. It was evident + that the majority of those present did not know how to meet this + unexpected contingency. It had taken them by surprise and they were + undecided. The uproar of argument and question began again, louder than + ever. The bewildered moderator thumped his desk and shouted feebly for + order. Tad Simpson took the floor and, in a few words and at the top of + his lungs, nominated Alonzo Snow. Abel Leonard seconded the nomination. + There were yells of “Question! Question!” and “Vote! Vote!” + </p> + <p> + Eben Salters was recognized by the chair. Captain Salters made few + speeches, and when he did make one it was because he had something to say. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Moderator,” he said, “I, for one, hate to vote just now. It isn't + that the school committee is so important of itself. But I do think that + the rights of a father with his child IS pretty important, and our vote + for Cap'n Whittaker—and most of you know I intended votin' for him + and have been workin' for him—might seem like an indorsement of his + position. This whole thing is a big surprise to me. I don't feel yet that + we know enough of the inside facts to give such an indorsement. I'd like + to see this Thomas man before I decide to give it—or not to give it, + either. It's a queer thing to come up at town meetin', but it's up. Hadn't + we better adjourn until next week?” + </p> + <p> + He sat down. The meeting was demoralized. Some were shouting for + adjournment, others to “Vote it out.” A straw would turn the scale and the + straw was forthcoming. While Captain Cy was speaking the door had silently + opened and two men entered the hall and sought seclusion in a corner. Now + one of these men came forward—the Honorable Heman Atkins. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins walked solemnly to the front, amidst a burst of recognition. + Many of the voters rose to receive him. It was customary, when the great + man condescended to attend such gatherings, to offer him a seat on the + platform. This the obsequious Knowles proceeded to do. Asaph was too + overcome by the disclosure of “John Smith's" identity and by Mr. Simpson's + attack on his friend to remember even his manners. He did not rise, but + sat stonily staring. + </p> + <p> + The moderator's gavel descended “Order!” he roared. “Order, I say! + Congressman Atkins is goin' to talk to us.” + </p> + <p> + The Honorable Heman faced the excited crowd. One hand was in the breast of + his frock coat; the other was clenched upon his hip. He stood calm, + benignant, dignified—the incarnation of wisdom and righteous worth. + The attitude had its effect; the applause began and grew to an ovation. + Men who had intended voting against his favored candidate forgot their + intention, in the magnetism of his presence, and cheered. He bowed and + bowed again. + </p> + <p> + “Fellow townsmen,” he began, “far be it from me to influence your choice + in the matter of the school committee. Still further be it from me to + influence you against an old boyhood friend, a neighbor, one whom I + believe—er—had believed to be all that was sincere and true. + But, fellow townsmen, my esteemed friend, Captain Salters, has expressed a + wish to see Mr. Thomas, the father whose story you have heard to-day. I + happen to be in a position to gratify that wish. Mr. Thomas, will you + kindly come forward?” + </p> + <p> + Then from the rear of the hall Mr. Thomas came. But the drunken rowdy of + the night before had been transformed. Gone was the scrubby beard and the + shabby suit. Shorn was the unkempt mop of hair and vanished the impudent + swagger. He was dressed in clean linen and respectable black, and his + manner was modest and subdued. Only a discoloration of one eye showed + where Captain Cy's blow had left its mark. + </p> + <p> + He stepped upon the platform beside the congressman. The latter laid a + hand upon his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen and friends,” said Heman, “my name has been brought into this + controversy, by Mr. Simpson directly, and in insinuation by—er—another. + Therefore it is my right to make my position clear. Mr. Thomas came to me + last evening in distress, both of mind and body. He told me his story—substantially + the story which has just been told to you by Mr. Simpson—and, + gentlemen, I believe it. But if I did not believe it, if I believed him to + have been in the past all that his opponent has said; even if I believed + that, only last evening, spurned, driven from his child, penniless and + hopeless, he had yielded to the weakness which has been his curse all his + life—even if I believed that, still I should demand that Henry + Thomas, repentant and earnest as you see him now, should be given his + rightful opportunity to become a man again. He is poor, but he is not—shall + not be—friendless. No! a thousand times, no! You may say, some of + you, that the affair is not my business. I affirm that it IS my business. + It is my business as a Christian, and that business should come before all + others. I have not allowed sympathy to influence me. If that were the + case, my regard for my neighbor and friend of former days would have held + me firm. But, gentlemen, I have a child of my own. I know what a father's + love is, as only a father can know it. And, after a sleepless night, I + stand here before you to-day determined that this man shall have his own, + if my money—which you will, I'm sure, forgive my mentioning—and + my unflinching support can give it to him. That is my position, and I + state it regardless of consequences.” He paused, and with raised right + hand, like the picture of Jove in the old academy mythology, launched his + final thunderbolt. “Whom God hath joined,” he proclaimed, “let no one put + asunder!” + </p> + <p> + That settled it. The cheers shook the walls. Amidst the tumult Dimick and + Bailey Bangs seized Captain Cy by the shoulders and endeavored to lift him + from his seat. + </p> + <p> + “For the love of goodness, Whit!” groaned Josiah, desperately, “stand up + and answer him. If you don't, we'll founder sure.” + </p> + <p> + The captain smiled grimly and shook his head. He had not taken his eyes + from the face of the great Atkins since the latter began speaking. + </p> + <p> + “What?” he replied. “After that 'put asunder' sockdolager? Man alive! do + you want me to add Sabbath breakin' to my other crimes?” + </p> + <p> + The vote, by ballot, followed almost immediately. It was pitiful to see + the erstwhile Whittaker majority melt away. Alonzo Snow was triumphantly + elected. But a handful voted against him. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy, still grimly smiling, rose and left the hall. As he closed the + door, he heard the shrill voice of Uncle Bedny demanding justice for the + Bassett's Hollow road. + </p> + <p> + It had, indeed, been a “memoriable” town meeting. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE REPULSE + </h3> + <p> + When Deacon Zeb Clark—the same Deacon Zeb who fell into the cistern, + as narrated by Captain Cy—made his first visit to the city, years + and years ago, he stayed but two days. As he had proudly boasted that he + should remain in the metropolis at least a week, our people were much + surprised at his premature return. To the driver of the butcher cart who + found him sitting contentedly before his dwelling, amidst his desolate + acres, the nearest neighbor a half mile away, did Deacon Zeb disclose his + reason for leaving the crowded thoroughfares. “There was so many folks + there,” he said, “that I felt lonesome.” + </p> + <p> + And Captain Cy, returning from the town meeting to the Whittaker place, + felt lonesome likewise. Not for the Deacon's reason—he met no one on + the main road, save a group of school children and Miss Phinney, and, + sighting the latter in the offing, he dodged behind the trees by the + schoolhouse pond and waited until she passed. But the captain, his trouble + now heavy upon him, did feel the need of sympathy and congenial + companionship. He knew he might count upon Dimick and Asaph, and, whenever + Keturah's supervision could be evaded, upon Mr. Bangs. But they were not + the advisers and comforters for this hour of need. All the rest of + Bayport, he felt sure, would be against him. Had not King Heman the Great + from the steps of the throne, banned him with the royal displeasure! “If + Heman ever SHOULD come right out and say—” began Asaph's warning. + Well, strange as it might seem, Heman had “come right out.” + </p> + <p> + As to why he had come out there was no question in the mind of the + captain. The latter had left Mr. Thomas, the prodigal father, prostrate + and blasphemous in the road the previous evening. His next view of him was + when, transformed and sanctified, he had been summoned to the platform by + Mr. Atkins. No doubt he had returned to the barber shop and, in his rage + and under Mr. Simpson's cross examination, had revealed something of the + truth. Tad, the politician, recognizing opportunity when it knocked at his + door, had hurried him to the congressman's residence. The rest was plain + enough, so Captain Cy thought. + </p> + <p> + However, war was already declared, and the reasons for it mattered little. + The first skirmish might occur at any moment. The situation was desperate. + The captain squared his shoulders, thrust forward his chin, and walked + briskly up the path to the door of the dining room. It was nearly one + o'clock, but Bos'n had not yet gone. She was waiting, to the very last + minute, for her “Uncle Cyrus.” + </p> + <p> + “Hello, shipmate,” he hailed. “Not headed for school yet? Good! I cal'late + you needn't go this afternoon. I'm thinkin' of hirin' a team and drivin' + to Ostable, and I didn't know but you'd like to go with me. Think you + could, without that teacher woman havin' you brought up aft for mutiny?” + </p> + <p> + Bos'n thought it over. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” she said; “I guess so, if you wrote me an excuse. I don't like + to be absent, 'cause I haven't been before, but there's only my reading + lesson this afternoon and I know that ever so well. I'd love to go, Uncle + Cy.” + </p> + <p> + The captain removed his coat and hat and pulled a chair forward to the + table. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” he exclaimed. “What's this—the mail?” + </p> + <p> + Bos'n smiled delightedly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” she replied. “I knew you was at the meeting and so I brought + it from the office. Ain't you glad?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure! Yes, indeed! Much obliged. Tryin' to keep house without you would + be like steerin' without a rudder.” + </p> + <p> + Even as he said it there came to him the realization that he might have to + steer without that rudder in the near future. His smile vanished. He + smothered a groan and picked up the mail. + </p> + <p> + “Hum!” he mused, “the Breeze, a circular, and one letter. Hello! it isn't + possible that—Well! well!” + </p> + <p> + The letter was in a long envelope. He hastily tore it open. At the + inclosure he glanced in evident excitement. Then his smile returned. + </p> + <p> + “Bos'n,” he said, after a moment's reflection, “I guess you and me won't + have to go to Ostable after all.” Noticing the child's look of + disappointment, he added: “But you needn't go to school. Maybe you'd + better not. You and me'll take a tramp alongshore. What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, Uncle Cy! Let's—shall we?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I don't see why not. We'll cruise in company as long as we can, hey, + little girl? The squall's likely to strike afore night,” he muttered half + aloud. “We'll enjoy the fine weather till it's time to shorten sail.” + </p> + <p> + They walked all that afternoon. Captain Cy was even more kind and gentle + with his small companion than usual. He told her stories which made her + laugh, pointed out spots in the pines where he had played Indian when a + boy, carried her “pig back” when she grew tired, and kissed her tenderly + when, at the back door of the Whittaker place, he set her on her feet + again. + </p> + <p> + “Had a good time, dearie?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, splendid! I think it's the best walk we ever had, don't you, Uncle + Cy?” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't wonder. You won't forget our cruises together when you are a + big girl and off somewheres else, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll NEVER forget 'em. And I'm never going anywhere without you.” + </p> + <p> + It was after five as they entered the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Anybody been here while I was out?” asked the captain of Georgianna. The + housekeeper's eyes were red and swollen, and she hugged Bos'n as she + helped her off with her jacket and hood. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there has,” was the decided answer. “First Ase Tidditt, and then + Bailey Bangs, and then that—that Angie Phinney.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” mused Captain Cy slowly. “So Angie was here, was she? Where the + carcass is the vultures are on deck, or words similar. Humph! Did our + Angelic friend have much to say?” + </p> + <p> + “DID she? And <i>I</i> had somethin' to say, too! I never in my life!” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” Her employer eyed her sharply. “So? And so soon? Talk about the + telegraph spreadin' news! I'd back most any half dozen tongues in Bayport + to spread more news, and add more trimmin' to it, in a day than the + telegraph could do in a week. Especially if all the telegraph operators + was like the one up at the depot. Well, Georgianna, when you goin' to + leave?” + </p> + <p> + “Leave? Leave where? What are you talkin' about?” + </p> + <p> + “Leave here. Of course you realize that this ship of ours,” indicating the + house by a comprehensive wave of his hand around the room, “is goin' to be + a mighty unpopular craft from now on. We may be on a lee shore any minute. + You've got your own well-bein' to think of.” + </p> + <p> + “My own well-bein'! What do you s'pose I care for my well-bein' when + there's—Cap'n Whittaker, you tell me now! Is it so?” + </p> + <p> + “Some of it is—yes. He's come back and he's who he says he is. + You've seen him. He was here all day yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “So Angie said, but I couldn't scarcely believe it. That toughy! Cap'n + Whittaker, do you intend to hand over that poor little innocent thing to—to + such a man as THAT?” + </p> + <p> + “No. There'll be no handin' over about it. But the odds are against us, + and there's no reason why you should be in the rumpus, Georgianna. You may + not understand what we're facin'.” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper drew herself up. Her face was very red and her small eyes + snapped. + </p> + <p> + “Cy Whittaker,” she began, manners and deference to employer alike + forgotten, “don't you say no more of that wicked foolishness to me. I'll + leave the minute you're mean-spirited enough to let that child go and not + afore. And when THAT happens I'll be GLAD to leave. Land sakes! there's + somebody at the door; and I expect I'm a perfect sight.” + </p> + <p> + She rubbed her face with her apron, thereby making it redder than ever, + and hurried into the dining room. + </p> + <p> + “Bos'n,” said Captain Cy quickly, “you stay here in the kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + Emmie looked at him in surprised bewilderment, but she suppressed her + curiosity concerning the identity of the person who had knocked, and + obeyed. The captain pulled the kitchen door almost shut and listened at + the crack. + </p> + <p> + The first spoken words by the visitor appeared to relieve Captain Cy's + anxiety; but they seemed to astonish him greatly. + </p> + <p> + “Why!” he exclaimed in a whisper. “Ain't that—It sounds like—” + </p> + <p> + “It's teacher,” whispered Bos'n, who also had been listening. “She's come + to find out why I wasn't at school. You tell her, Uncle Cy.” + </p> + <p> + Georgianna returned to announce: + </p> + <p> + “It's Miss Dawes. She says she wants to see you, Cap'n. She's in the + settin' room.” + </p> + <p> + The captain drew a long breath. Then, repeating his command to Emmie to + stay where she was, he left the room, closing the door behind him. The + latter procedure roused Bos'n's indignation. + </p> + <p> + “What made him do that?” she demanded. “I haven't been bad. He NEVER shut + me up before!” + </p> + <p> + The schoolmistress was standing by the center table in the sitting room + when Captain Cy entered. + </p> + <p> + “Good evenin',” he said politely. “Won't you sit down?” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Dawes paid no attention to trivialities. She seemed much + agitated. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Whittaker,” she began, “I just heard something that—” + </p> + <p> + The captain interrupted her. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” he said, “but I think we'll pull down the curtains and have a + little light on the subject. It gets dark early now, especially of a gray + day like this one.” + </p> + <p> + He drew the shades at the windows and lit the lamp on the table. The red + glow behind the panes of the stove door faded into insignificance as the + yellow radiance brightened. The ugly portraits and the stiff old + engravings on the wall retired into a becoming dusk. The old-fashioned + room became more homelike. + </p> + <p> + “Now won't you sit down?” repeated Captain Cy. “Take that rocker; it's the + most comf'table one aboard—so Bos'n says, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phoebe took the rocker, under protest. Her host remained standing. + </p> + <p> + “It's been a nice afternoon,” he said. “Bos'n—Emmie, of course—and + I have been for a walk. 'Twan't her fault, 'twas mine. I kept her out of + school. I was—well, kind of lonesome.” + </p> + <p> + The teacher's gray eyes flashed in the lamplight. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Whittaker,” she cried, “please don't waste time. I didn't come here + to talk about the weather nor Emily's reason for not attending school. I + don't care why she was absent. But I have just heard of what happened at + that meeting. Is it true that—” She hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “That Emmie's dad is alive and here? Yes, it's true.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but that man last night? Was he THAT man?” + </p> + <p> + The captain nodded. + </p> + <p> + “That's the man,” he said briefly. + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes shuddered. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Whittaker,” she asked earnestly, “are you sure he is really her + father? Absolutely sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure and sartin.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she belongs to him, doesn't she? Legally, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so.” + </p> + <p> + “Are—are you going to give her up to him?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what I heard was true. You did say at the meeting that you were + going to do your best to keep him from getting her.” + </p> + <p> + “Um—hum! What I said amounts to just about that.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was surprised and a little disappointed apparently. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, for reasons I've got.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mind telling me the reasons?” + </p> + <p> + “I cal'late you don't want to hear 'em. If you don't understand now, then + I can't make it much plainer, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + The little lady sprang to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are provoking!” she cried indignantly. “Can't you see that I want + to hear the reasons from you yourself? Cap'n Whittaker, I shook hands with + you last night.” + </p> + <p> + “You remember I told you you'd better wait.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't want to wait. I believed I knew something of human nature, and I + believed I had learned to understand you. I made up my mind to pay no more + attention to what people said against you. I thought they were envious and + disliked you because you did things in your own way. I wouldn't believe + the stories I heard this afternoon. I wanted to hear you speak in your own + defense and you refuse to do it. Don't you know what people are saying? + They say you are trying to keep Emily because—Oh, I'm ashamed to ask + it, but you make me: HAS the child got valuable property of her own?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy had been, throughout this scene, standing quietly by the table. + Now he took a step forward. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Dawes,” he said sharply, “sit down.” + </p> + <p> + “But I—” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, please.” + </p> + <p> + The schoolmistress didn't mean to obey the order, but for some reason she + did. The captain went on speaking. + </p> + <p> + “It's pretty plain,” he said, “that what you heard at the boardin' house—for + I suppose that's where you did hear it—was what you might call a + Phinneyized story of the doin's at the meetin'. Well, there's another + yarn, and it's mine; I'm goin' to spin it and I want you to listen.” + </p> + <p> + He went on to spin his yarn. It was practically a repetition of his reply + to Tad Simpson that morning. Its conclusion was also much the same. + </p> + <p> + “The land ain't worth fifty dollars,” he declared, “but if it was fifty + million he shouldn't have it. Why? Because it belongs to that little girl. + And he shan't have her until he and those back of him have hammered me + through the courts till I'm down forty fathom under water. And when they + do get her—and, to be honest, I cal'late they will in the end—I + hope to God I won't be alive to see it! There! I've answered you.” + </p> + <p> + He was walking up and down the room, with the old quarter-deck stride, his + hands jammed deep in his pockets and his face working with emotion. + </p> + <p> + “It's pretty nigh a single-handed fight for me,” he continued, “but I've + fought single-handed before. The other side's got almost all the powder + and the men. Heman and Tad and that Thomas have got seven eighths of + Bayport behind 'em, not to mention the 'Providence' they're so sure of. My + crowd is a mighty forlorn hope: Dimick and Ase Tidditt, and Bailey, as + much as his wife 'll let him. Oh, yes!” and he smiled whimsically, + “there's another one. A new recruit's just joined; Georgianna's enlisted. + That's my army. Sort of rag-jacketed cadets, we are, small potatoes, and + few in a hill.” + </p> + <p> + The teacher rose and laid a hand on his arm. He turned toward her. The + lamplight shone upon her face, and he saw, to his astonishment, that there + were tears in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Whittaker,” she said, “will you take an other recruit? I should + like to enlist, please.” + </p> + <p> + “You? Oh, pshaw! I'm thick-headed to-night. I didn't see the joke of it at + first.” + </p> + <p> + “There isn't any joke. I want you to know that I admire you for the fight + you're making. Law or no law, to let that dear little girl go away with + that dreadful father of hers is a sin and a crime. I came here to tell you + so. I did want to hear your story, and you made me ask that question; but + I was certain of your answer before you made it. I don't suppose I can do + anything to help, but I'm going to try. So, you see, your army is bigger + than you thought it was—though the new soldier isn't good for much, + I'm afraid,” she added, with a little smile. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was greatly disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Phoebe,” he said, “I—I won't say that it don't please me to + have you talk so, for it does, more'n you can imagine. Sympathy means + somethin' to the under dog, and it gives him spunk to keep on kickin'. But + you mustn't take any part in the row; you simply mustn't. It won't do.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? Won't I be ANY help?” + </p> + <p> + “Help? You'd be more help than all the rest of us put together. You and me + haven't seen a great deal of each other, and my part in the few talks we + have had has been a mean one, but I knew the first time I met you that you + had more brains and common sense than any woman in this county—though + I was too pig-headed to own it. But that ain't it. I got you the job of + teacher. It's no credit to me; 'twas just bull luck and for the fun of + jarrin' Heman. But I did it. And, because I did it, the Atkins crowd—and + that means most everybody now—haven't any love for you. My tryin' + for school committee was really just to give you a fair chance in your + position. I was licked, so the committee's two to one against you. Don't + you see that you mustn't have anything to do with me? Don't you SEE it?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I see that common gratitude alone should be reason enough for my trying + to help you,” she said. “But, beside that, I know you are right, and I + SHALL help, no matter what you say. As for the teacher's position, let + them discharge me. I—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't talk that way. The youngsters need you, and know it, no matter what + their fool fathers and mothers say. And you mustn't wreck your chances. + You're young—” + </p> + <p> + She laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! I'm not,” she said. “Young! Cap'n Whittaker, you shouldn't joke + about a woman's age.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't jokin'. You ARE young.” As she stood there before him he was + realizing, with a curiously uncomfortable feeling, how much younger she + was than he. He glanced up at the mirror, where his own gray hairs were + reflected, and repeated his assertion. “You're young yet,” he said, “and + bein' discharged from a place might mean a whole lot to you. I'm glad you + take such an interest in Bos'n, and your comin' here on her account—” + </p> + <p> + He paused. Miss Dawes colored slightly and said: + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Your comin' here on her account was mighty good of you. But you've got to + keep out of this trouble. And you mustn't come here again. That's owner's + orders. Why, I'm expectin' a boardin' party any minute,” he added. “I + thought when you knocked it was 'papa' comin' for his child. You'd better + go.” + </p> + <p> + But she stood still. + </p> + <p> + “I shan't go,” she declared. “Or, at least, not until you promise to let + me try to help you. If they come, so much the better. They'll learn where + my sympathies are.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy scratched his head. + </p> + <p> + “See here, Miss Phoebe,” he said. “I ain't sure that you fully understand + that Scripture and everything else is against us. Did Angie turn loose on + you the 'Whom the Lord has joined' avalanche?” + </p> + <p> + The schoolmistress burst into a laugh. The captain laughed, too, but his + gravity quickly returned. For steps sounded on the walk, there was a + whispering outside, and some one knocked on the dining-room door. + </p> + <p> + The situation was similar to that of the evening when the Board of + Strategy called and “John Smith” made his first appearance. But now, oddly + enough, Captain Cy seemed much less troubled. He looked at Miss Dawes and + there was a dancing twinkle in his eye. + </p> + <p> + “Is it—” began the lady, in an agitated whisper. + </p> + <p> + “The boardin' party? I presume likely.” + </p> + <p> + “But what can you do?” + </p> + <p> + “Stand by the repel, I guess,” was the calm reply. “I told you that they + had most of the ammunition, but ours ain't all blank cartridges. You stay + below and listen to the broadsides.” + </p> + <p> + They heard Georgianna cross the dining room. There was a murmur of voices + at the door. The captain nodded. + </p> + <p> + “It's them,” he said. “Well, here goes. Now don't you show yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I am afraid? Indeed, I shan't stay 'below' as you call it! I + shall let them see—” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy held up his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I'm commodore of this fleet,” he said; “and that bein' the case, I expect + my crew to obey orders. There's nothin' you can do, and—Why, yes! + there is, too. You can take care of Bos'n. Georgianna,” to the housekeeper + who, looking frightened and nervous, had appeared at the door, “send Bos'n + in here quick.” + </p> + <p> + “They're there,” whispered Georgianna. “Mr. Atkins and Tad and that Thomas + critter, and lots more. And they've come after her. What shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + “Jump when I speak to you, that's the first thing. Send Bos'n in here and + you stay in your galley.” + </p> + <p> + Emily came running. Miss Dawes put an arm about her. Captain Cy, the + battle lanterns still twinkling under his brows, stepped forth to meet the + “boarding party.” + </p> + <p> + They were there, as Georgianna had said. Mr. Thomas on the top step, Heman + and Simpson on the next lower, and behind them Abel Leonard and a group of + interested volunteers, principally recruited from the back room of the + barber shop. + </p> + <p> + “Evenin', gentlemen,” said the captain, opening the door so briskly that + Mr. Thomas started backward and came down heavily upon the toes of the + devoted Tad. Mr. Simpson swore, Mr. Thomas clawed about him to gain + equilibrium, and the dignity of the group was seriously impaired. + </p> + <p> + “Evenin',” repeated Captain Cy. “Quite a surprise party you're givin' me. + Come in.” + </p> + <p> + “Cyrus,” began the Honorable Atkins, “we are here to claim—” + </p> + <p> + “Give me my daughter, you robber!” demanded Thomas, from his new position + in the rear of the other two. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Thomas,” said Heman, “please remember that I am conducting this + affair. I respect the natural indignation of an outraged father, but—ahem! + Cyrus, we are here to claim—” + </p> + <p> + “Then do your claimin' inside. It's kind of chilly to-night, there's + plenty of empty chairs, and we don't need to hold an overflow meetin'. + Come ahead in.” + </p> + <p> + The trio looked at each other in hesitation. Then Mr. Atkins majestically + entered the dining room. Thomas and Simpson followed him. + </p> + <p> + “Abe,” observed Captain Cy to Leonard, who was advancing toward the steps, + “I'm sorry not to be hospitable, but there's too many of you to invite at + once, and 'tain't polite to show partiality. You and the rest are welcome + to sit on the terrace or stroll 'round the deer park. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + He closed the door in the face of the disappointed Abel and turned to the + three in the room. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “out with it. You've come to claim somethin', I + understand.” + </p> + <p> + “I come for my rights,” shouted Mr. Thomas. + </p> + <p> + “Yes? Well, this ain't State's prison or I'd give 'em to you with + pleasure. Heman, you'd better do the talkin'. We'll probably get ahead + faster.” + </p> + <p> + The Honorable cleared his throat and waved his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Cyrus,” he began, “you are my boyhood friend and my fellow townsman and + neighbor. Under such circumstances it gives me pain—” + </p> + <p> + “Then don't let us discuss painful subjects. Let's get down to business. + You've come to rescue Bos'n—Emily, that is,—from the 'robber'—I'm + quotin' Deacon Thomas here—that's got her, so's to turn her over to + her sorrowin' father. Is that it? Yes. Well, you can't have her—not + yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Cyrus,” said Mr. Atkins, “I'm sorry to see that you take it this way. You + haven't the shadow of a right. We have the law with us, and your conduct + will lead us to invoke it. The constable is outside. Shall I call him in?” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Bedny” was the town constable and had been since before the war. + The purely honorary office was given him each year as a joke. Captain Cy + grinned broadly, and even Tad was obliged to smile. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be inhuman, Heman,” urged the captain. “You wouldn't turn me over + to be man-handled by Uncle Bedny, would you?” + </p> + <p> + “This is not a humorous affair—” began the congressman, with + dignity. But the “bereaved father” had been prospecting on his own hook, + and now he peeped into the sitting room. + </p> + <p> + “Here she is!” he shouted. “I see her. Come on, Emmie! Your dad's come for + you. Let go of her, you woman! What do you mean by holdin' on to her?” + </p> + <p> + The situation which was “not humorous” immediately became much less so. + The next minute was a lively one. It ended as Mr. Thomas was picked up by + Tad from the floor, where he had fallen, having been pushed violently over + a chair by Captain Cy. Bos'n, frightened and sobbing, was clinging wildly + to Miss Dawes, who had clung just as firmly to her. The captain's voice + rang through the room. + </p> + <p> + “That's enough,” he said. “That's enough and some over. Atkins, take that + feller out of this house and off my premises. As for the girl, that's for + us to fight out in the courts. I'm her guardian, lawfully appointed, and + you nor nobody else can touch her while that appointment's good. Here it + is—right here. Now look at it and clear out.” + </p> + <p> + He held, for the congressman's inspection, the document which, inclosed in + the long envelope, had been received that morning. His visit to Ostable, + made some weeks before, had been for the purpose of applying to the + probate court for the appointment as Emily's guardian. He had applied + before the news of her father's coming to life reached him. The + appointment itself had arrived just in time. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins studied the document with care. When he spoke it was with + considerable agitation and without his usual diplomacy. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he grunted. “Humph! I see. Well, sir, I have some influence in + this section and I shall see how long your—your TRICK will prevent + the child's going where she belongs. I wish you to understand that I shall + continue this fight to the very last. I—I am not one to be easily + beaten. Simpson, you and Thomas come with me. This night's despicable + chicanery is only the beginning. This is bad business for you, Cy + Whittaker,” he snarled, his self-control vanishing, “and”—with a + vindictive glance at the schoolmistress—“for those who are with you + in it. That appointment was obtained under false pretenses and I can prove + it. Your tricks don't scare me. I've had experience with TRICKS before.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. So I've heard. Well, Heman, I ain't as well up in tricks as you + claim to be, nor my stockin' isn't as well padded as yours, maybe. But + while there's a ten-cent piece left in the toe of it I'll fight you and + the skunk whose 'rights' you seem to have taken such a shine to. And, + after that, while there's a lawyer that 'll trust me. And, meantime, that + little girl stays right here, and you touch her if you dare, any of you! + Anything more to say?” + </p> + <p> + But the Honorable's dignity had returned. Possibly he thought he had said + too much already. A moment later the door banged behind the discomforted + boarding party. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy pulled his beard and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we repelled 'em, didn't we?” he observed. “But, as friend Heman + says, the beginnin's only begun. I wish he hadn't seen you here, teacher.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes looked up from the task of stroking poor Bos'n's hair. + </p> + <p> + “I don't,” she said, “I'm glad of it.” Then she added, laughing nervously: + “Cap'n Whittaker, how could you be so cool? It was like a play. I declare, + you were just splendid!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + A CLEW + </h3> + <p> + Josiah Dimick has a unique faculty of grasping a situation and summing it + up in an out-of-the-ordinary way. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” observed Josiah to the excited group at Simmons's, “that this + town owes Cy Whittaker a vote of thanks.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks!” gasped Alpheus Smalley, so shocked and horrified that he put the + one-pound weight on the scales instead of the half pound. “THANKS! After + what we've found out? Well, I must say!” + </p> + <p> + “Ya-as,” drawled Captain Josiah, “thanks was what I said. If it wan't for + him this gang and the sewin' circle wouldn't have nothin' to talk about + but their neighbors. Our reputations would be as full of holes as a + skimmer by this time. Now all hands are so busy jumpin' on Whit, that the + rest of us can feel fairly safe. Ain't that so, Gabe?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lumley, who had stopped in for a half pound of tea, grinned feebly, + but said nothing. If he noticed the clerk's mistake in weights he didn't + mention it, but took his package and hurried out. After his departure Mr. + Smalley himself discovered the error and charged the Lumley account with + “1 1/4 lbs. Mixed Green and Black.” Meanwhile the assemblage about the + stove had put Captain Cy on the anvil and was hammering him vigorously. + </p> + <p> + Bayport was boiling over with rumor and surmise. Heman had appealed to the + courts asking that Captain Cy's appointment as Bos'n's guardian be + rescinded. Cy had hired Lawyer Peabody, of Ostable, to look out for his + interests. Mr. Atkins and the captain had all but come to blows over the + child. Thomas, the poor father, had broken down and wept, and had + threatened to commit suicide. Mrs. Salters had refused to speak to Captain + Cy when she met the latter after meeting on Sunday. The land in Orham had + been sold and the captain was using the money. Phoebe Dawes had threatened + to resign if Bos'n came to school any longer. No, she had threatened to + resign if she didn't come to school. She hadn't threatened to resign at + all, but wanted higher wages because of the effect the scandal might have + on her reputation as a teacher. These were a few of the reports, + contradicted and added to from day to day. + </p> + <p> + To quote Josiah Dimick again: “Sortin' out the truth from the lies is like + tryin' to find a quart of sardines in a schooner load of herrin'. And they + dump in more herrin' every half hour.” + </p> + <p> + Angeline Phinney was having the time of her life. The perfect boarding + house hummed like a fly trap. Keturah and Mrs. Tripp had deserted to the + enemy, and the minority, meaning Asaph and Bailey, had little opportunity + to defend their friend's cause, even if they had dared. Heman Atkins, his + Christian charity and high-mindedness, his devotion to duty, regardless of + political consequences, and the magnificent speech at town meeting were + lauded and exalted. The Bayport Breeze contained a full account of the + meeting, and it was read aloud by Keturah, amidst hymns of praise from the + elect. + </p> + <p> + “'Whom the Lord hath joined,'” read Mrs. Bangs, “'let no man put asunder.' + Ain't that splendid? Ain't that FINE? The paper says: 'When Congressman + Atkins delivered this noble sentiment a hush fell upon the excited + throng.' I should think 'twould. I remember when I was married the + minister said pretty nigh the same thing, and I COULDN'T speak. I couldn't + have opened my mouth to save me. Don't you remember I couldn't, Bailey?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs nodded gloomily. It is possible that he wished the effect of the + minister's declaration might have been more lasting. Asaph stirred in his + chair. + </p> + <p> + “I don't care,” he said. “This puttin' asunder business is all right, but + there's always two sides to everything. I see this Thomas critter when he + fust come, and he didn't look like no saint then—nor smell like one, + neither, unless 'twas a specimen pickled in alcohol.” + </p> + <p> + Here was irreverence almost atheistic. Keturah's face showed her shocked + disapproval. Matilda Tripp voiced the general sentiment. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” she sniffed. “Well, all I can say is that I've met Mr. Thomas two + or three times, and <i>I</i> didn't notice anything but politeness and + good manners. Maybe my nose ain't so fine for smellin' liquor as some + folks's—p'raps it ain't had the experience—but all <i>I</i> + saw was a poor lame man with a black eye. I pitied him, and I don't care + who hears me say it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” concurred Miss Phinney, “and if he was a drinkin' man, do you + suppose Mr. Atkins would have anything to do with him? Cyrus Whittaker + made a whole lot of talk about his insultin' some woman or other, but + nobody knows who the woman was. 'Bout time for her to speak up, I should + think. Teacher,” turning to Miss Dawes, “you was at the Whittaker place + when Mr. Atkins and Emily's father come for her, I understand. I wish I'd + have been there. It must have been wuth seein'.” + </p> + <p> + “It was,” replied Miss Dawes. She had kept silent throughout the various + discussions of the week following the town meeting, but now, thus appealed + to, she answered promptly. + </p> + <p> + Angeline's news created a sensation. The schoolmistress immediately became + the center of interest. + </p> + <p> + “Is that so? Was you there, teacher? Well, I declare!” The questions and + exclamations flew round the table. + </p> + <p> + “Tell us, teacher,” pleaded Keturah. “Wasn't Heman grand? I should so like + to have heard him. Didn't Cap'n Whittaker look ashamed of himself?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he did not. If anyone looked ashamed it was Mr. Atkins and his + friends. Perhaps I ought to tell you that my sympathies are entirely with + Captain Whittaker in this affair. To give that little girl up to a drunken + scoundrel like her father would, in my opinion, be a crime.” + </p> + <p> + The boarders and the landlady gasped. Asaph grinned and nudged Bailey + under the table. Keturah was the first to recover. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” she exclaimed. “Everybody's got a right to their opinion, of + course. But I can't see the crime, myself. And as for the drunkenness, I'd + like to know who's seen Mr. Thomas drunk. Cyrus Whittaker SAYS he has, but—” + </p> + <p> + She waved her hand scornfully. Phoebe rose from her chair. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen him in that condition,” she said. “In fact, I am the person + he insulted. I saw Captain Whittaker knock him down, and I honored the + captain for it. I only wished I were a man and could have done it myself.” + </p> + <p> + She left the room, and, a few moments later, the house. Mr. Tidditt + chuckled aloud. Even Bailey dared to look pleased. + </p> + <p> + “There!” sneered the widow Tripp. “Ain't that—Perhaps you remember + that Cap'n Whittaker got her the teacher's place?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” put in Miss Phinney, “and nobody knows WHY he got it for her. That + is, nobody has known up to now. Maybe we can begin to guess a little after + this.” + </p> + <p> + “She was at his house, was she?” observed Keturah. “Humph! I wonder why? + Seems to me if <i>I</i> was a young—that is, a single woman like + her, I'd be kind of careful about callin' on bachelors. Humph! it looks + funny to me.” + </p> + <p> + Asaph rose and pushed back his chair. + </p> + <p> + “I cal'late she called to see Emily,” he said sharply. “The child was her + scholar, and I presume likely, knowin' the kind of father that has turned + up for the poor young one, she felt sorry for her. Of course, nobody's + hintin' anything against Phoebe Dawes's character. If you want a + certificate of that, you've only got to go to Wellmouth. Folks over there + are pretty keen on that subject. I guess the town would go to law about it + rather'n hear a word against her. Libel suits are kind of uncomf'table + things for them that ain't sure of their facts. I'D hate to get mixed up + in one, myself. Bailey, I'm going up street. Come on, when you can, won't + you?” + </p> + <p> + As if frightened at his own display of spirit, he hurried out. There was + silence for a time; then Miss Phinney spoke concerning the weather. + </p> + <p> + Up at the Cy Whittaker place the days were full ones. There, also, legal + questions were discussed, with Georgianna, the Board of Strategy, Josiah + Dimick occasionally, and, more infrequently still, Miss Dawes, as + participants with Captain Cy in the discussions. Rumors were true in so + far as they related to Mr. Atkins's appeal to the courts, and the + captain's retaining Lawyer Peabody, of Ostable. Mr. Peabody's opinion of + the case was not encouraging. + </p> + <p> + “You see, captain,” he said, when his client visited him at his office, + “the odds are very much against us. The court appointed you as guardian + with the understanding that this man Thomas was dead. Now he is alive and + claims his child. More than that, he has the most influential politician + in this county back of him. We wouldn't stand a fighting chance except for + one thing—Thomas himself. He left his wife and the baby; deserted + them, so she said; went to get work, HE says. We can prove he was a + drunken blackguard BEFORE he went, and that he has been drunk since he + came back. But THEY'LL say—Atkins and his lawyer—that the man + was desperate and despairing because of your refusal to give him his + child. They'll hold him up as a repentant sinner, anxious to reform, and + needing the little girl's influence to help keep him straight. That's + their game, and they'll play it, be sure of that, It sounds reasonable + enough, too, for sinners have repented before now. And the long-lost + father coming back to his child is the one sure thing to win applause from + the gallery, you know that.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yup,” he said, “I know it. The other night, when Miss Ph— when a + friend of mine was at the house, she said this business was like a play. I + didn't say so to her, but all the same I realize it ain't like a play at + all. In a play dad comes home, havin' been snaked bodily out of the jaws + of the tomb by his coat collar, and the young one sings out 'Papa! Papa!' + and he sobs, 'Me child! Me child!' and it's all lovely, and you put on + your hat feelin' that the old man is goin' to be rich and righteous for + the rest of his days. But here it's different; dad's a rascal, and anybody + who's seen anything of the world knows he's bound to stay so; and as for + the poor little girl, why—why—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, rose, and, striding over to the window, stood looking out. + After an interval, during which the good-natured attorney read a dull + business letter through for the second time, he spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you understand, Peabody,” he said. “It ain't just selfishness that + makes me steer the course I'm runnin'. Course, Bos'n's got to be the world + and all to me, and if she's taken away I don't know's I care a tinker's + darn what happens afterwards. But, all the same, if her dad was a real + man, sorry for what he's done and tryin' to make up for it—why, + then, I cal'late I'm decent enough to take off my hat, hand her over, and + say: 'God bless you and good luck.' But to think of him carryin' her off + the Lord knows where, to neglect her and cruelize her, and to let her grow + up among fellers like him, I—I—by the big dipper, I can't do + it! That's all; I can't!” + </p> + <p> + “How does she feel about it, herself?” asked Peabody. + </p> + <p> + “Her? Bos'n? Why, that's the hardest of all. Some of the children at + school pester her about her father. I don't know's you can blame 'em; + young ones are made that way, I guess—but she comes home to me + cryin', and it's 'O Uncle Cy, he AIN'T my truly father, is he?' and 'You + won't let him take me away from you, will you?' till it seems as if I + should fly out of the window. The poor little thing! And that puffed-up + humbug Atkins blowin' about his Christianity and all! D—n such + Christianity as that, I say! I've seen heathen Injuns, who never heard of + Christ, with more of His spirit inside 'em. There! I've shocked you, I + guess. Sometimes I think this place is too narrer and cramped for me. I've + been around, you know, and my New England bringin' up has wore thin in + spots. Seem's if I must get somewheres and spread out, or I'll bust.” + </p> + <p> + He threw himself into a chair. The lawyer clapped him on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, captain,” he said. “Don't 'bust' yet awhile. Don't give up + the ship. If we lose in one court, we can appeal to another, and so on up + the line. And meantime we'll do a little investigating of friend Thomas's + career since he left Concord. I've written to a legal acquaintance of mine + in Butte, giving him the facts as we know them, and a description of + Thomas. He will try to find out what the fellow did in his years out West. + It's our best chance, as I told you. Keep your pluck up and wait and see.” + </p> + <p> + The captain repeated this conversation to the Board of Strategy when he + returned to Bayport. Miss Dawes had walked home from school with Bos'n, + and had stopped at the house to hear the report. She listened, but it was + evident that something else was on her mind. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Whittaker,” she asked, “has it ever struck you as queer that Mr. + Atkins should take such an interest in this matter? He is giving time and + counsel and money to help this man Thomas, who is a perfect stranger to + him. Why does he do it?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” he repeated. “Why, to down me, of course. I was gettin' too + everlastin' prominent in politics to suit him. I'd got you in as teacher, + and I had 'Lonzo Snow as good as licked for school committee. Goodness + knows what I might have run for next, 'cordin' to Heman's reasonin', and I + simply had to be smashed. It worked all right. I'm so unhealthy now in the + sight of most folks in this town, that I cal'late they go home and + sulphur-smoke their clothes after they meet me, so's not to catch my + wickedness.” + </p> + <p> + But the teacher shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “That doesn't seem reason enough to me,” she declared. “Just see what Mr. + Atkins has done. He never openly advocated anything in town meeting + before; you said so yourself. Even when he must have realized that you had + the votes for committeeman he kept still. He might have taken many of them + from you by simply coming out and declaring for Mr. Snow; but he didn't. + And then, all at once, he takes this astonishing stand. Captain Whittaker, + Mr. Tidditt says that, the night of Emily's birthday party, you and he + told who she was, by accident, and that Mr. Atkins seemed very much + surprised and upset. Is that so?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy laughed. + </p> + <p> + “His lemonade was upset; that's all I noticed special. Oh! yes, and he + lost his hat off, goin' home. But what of it? What are you drivin' at?” + </p> + <p> + “I was wondering if—if it could be that, for some reason, Mr. Atkins + had a spite against Emily or her people. Or if he had any reason to fear + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Fear? Fear Bos'n? Oh, my, that's funny! You've been readin' novels, I'm + 'fraid, teacher, 'though I didn't suspect it of you.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed heartily. Miss Dawes smiled, too, but she still persisted. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, “I don't know. Perhaps it is because I'm a woman, and + politics don't mean as much to me as to you men, but to me political + reasons don't seem strong enough to account for such actions as those of + Mr. Atkins. Emily's mother was a Thayer, wasn't she? and the Thayers once + lived in Orham. I wish we could find out more about them while they lived + there.” + </p> + <p> + Asaph Tidditt pulled his beard thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he observed, “maybe we can, if we want to, though I don't think + what we find out 'll amount to nothin'. I was kind of cal'latin' to go to + Orham next week on a little visit. Seth Wingate over there—Barzilla + Wingate's cousin, Whit—is a sort of relation of mine, and we visit + back and forth every nine or ten year or so. The ten year's most up, and + he's been pesterin' me to come over. Seth's been Orham town clerk about as + long as I've been the Bayport one, and he's lived there all his life. What + he don't know about Orham folks ain't wuth knowin'. If you say so, I'll + pump him about the Thayers and the Richards. 'Twon't do no harm, and the + old fool likes to talk, anyhow. I don't know's I ought to speak that way + about my relations,” he added doubtfully, “but Seth IS sort of stubborn + and unlikely at odd times. We don't always agree as to which is the best + town to live in, you understand.” + </p> + <p> + So it was settled that Mr. Wingate should be subjected to the “pumping” + process when Asaph visited him. He departed for this visit the following + week, and remained away for ten days. Meanwhile several things happened in + Bayport. + </p> + <p> + One of these things was the farewell of the Honorable Heman Atkins. + Congress was to open at Washington, and the Honorable heeded the call of + duty. Alicia and the housekeeper went with him, and the big house was + closed for the winter. At the gate between the stone urns, and backed by + the iron dogs, the great man bade a group of admiring constituents + good-by. He thanked them for their trust in him, and promised that it + should not be betrayed. + </p> + <p> + “I leave you, my fellow townsmen, er—ladies and friends,” he said, + “with regret, tempered by pride—a not inexcusable pride, I believe. + In the trying experience which my self-respect and sympathy has so + recently forced upon me, you have stood firm and cheered me on. The task I + have undertaken, the task of restoring to a worthy man his own, shall be + carried on to the bitterest extremity. I have put my hand to the plow, and + it shall not be withdrawn. And, furthermore, I go to my work at Washington + determined to secure for my native town the appropriation which it so + sorely needs. I shall secure it if I can, even though—” and the + sarcasm was hugely enjoyed by his listeners—“I am, as I seem likely + to be, deprived of the help of the 'committee,' self-appointed at our + recent town meeting. If I fail—and I do not conceal the fact that I + may fail—I am certain you will not blame me. Now I should like to + shake each one of you by the hand.” + </p> + <p> + The hands were shaken, and the train bore the Atkins delegation away. And, + on the day following, Mr. Thomas, the prodigal father, also left town. A + position in Boston had been offered him, he said, and he felt that he must + accept it. He would come back some of these days, with the warrant from + the court, and get his little girl. + </p> + <p> + “Position offered him! Um—ya-as!” quoth Dimick the cynical, in + conversation with Captain Cy. “Inspector of sidewalks, I shouldn't wonder. + Well, please don't ask me if I think Heman sent him to Boston so's to have + him out of the way, and 'cause he'd feel consider'ble safer than if he was + loose down here. Don't ask me that, for, with my strict scruples against + the truth I might say, No. As it is, I say nothin'—and wink my port + eye.” + </p> + <p> + The ten-day visit ended, Mr. Tidditt returned to Bayport. On the afternoon + of his return he and Bailey called at the Whittaker place, and there they + were joined by Miss Dawes, who had been summoned to the conclave by a note + intrusted to Bos'n. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Ase,” ordered Captain Cy, as the quartet gathered in the sitting + room, “here we are, hangin' on your words, as the feller said. Don't keep + us strung up too long. What did you find out?” + </p> + <p> + The town clerk cleared his throat. When he spoke, there was a trace of + disappointment in his tone. To have been able to electrify his audience + with the news of some startling discovery would have been pure joy for + Asaph. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he began, “I don't know's I found out anything much. Yet I did + find out somethin', too; but it don't really amount to nothin'. I hoped + 'twould be somethin' more'n 'twas, but when nothin' come of it except the + little somethin' it begun with, I—” + </p> + <p> + “For the land sakes!” snapped Bailey Bangs, who was a trifle envious of + his friend's position in the center of the stage, “stop them 'nothin's' + and 'somethin's,' won't you? You keep whirlin' 'em round and over and over + till my head's FULL of 'nothin',' and—” + </p> + <p> + “That's what it's full of most of the time,” interrupted Asaph tartly. + Captain Cy hastened to act as peacemaker. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Bailey,” he said; “you let Ase alone. Tell us what you did + find out, Ase, and cut out the trimmin's.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” continued Mr. Tidditt, with a glare at Bangs, “I asked Seth about + the Thayers and the Richards folks the very fust night I struck Orham. He + remembered 'em, of course; he can remember Adam, if you let him tell it. + He told me a whole mess about old man Thayer and old man Richards and + their granddads and grandmarms, and what houses they lived in, and how + many hens they kept, and what their dog's name was, and how they come to + name him that, and enough more to fill a hogshead. 'Twas ten o'clock afore + he got out of Genesis, and down so fur as John and Emily. He remembered + their bein' married, and their baby—Mary Thayer, Bos'n's ma—bein' + born. + </p> + <p> + “Folks used to call John Thayer a smart young feller, so Seth said. They + used to cal'late that he'd rise high in the seafarin' and ship-ownin' + line. Maybe he would, only he died somewheres in Californy 'long in '54 or + thereabouts. 'Twas the time of the gold craziness out there, and he left + his ship and went gold huntin'. And the next thing they knew he was dead + and buried.” + </p> + <p> + “When was that?” inquired the schoolmistress. + </p> + <p> + “In '54, I tell you. So Seth says.” + </p> + <p> + “What ship was he on?” asked Bailey. + </p> + <p> + “Wan't on any ship. Why don't you listen, instead of settin' there + moonin'? He was gold diggin', I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “He'd BEEN on a ship, hadn't he? What was the name of her?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't ask. What diff'rence does that make?” + </p> + <p> + “Wasn't Mr. Atkins at sea in those days?” put in the teacher. The captain + answered her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he was,” he said. “That is, I think he was. He was away from here + when I skipped out, and he didn't get back till '61 or thereabouts.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, anyhow,” went on Asaph, “that's all I could find out. Seth and me + went rummagin' through town records from way back to glory, him gassin' + away and stringin' along about this old settler and that, till I 'most + wished he'd choke himself with the dust he was raisin'. We found John's + grandad's will, and Emily's dad's will, and John's own will, and that's + all. John left everything he had and all he might become possessed of to + his wife and baby and their heirs forever. He died poorer'n poverty. + What's the use of a will when you ain't got nothin' to leave?” + </p> + <p> + “Why!” exclaimed Captain Cy. “The answer to that's easy. John was goin' to + sea, and, more'n likely, intended to have a shy at the diggin's afore he + got back. So, if he did make any money, he wanted his wife and baby to + have it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what they got wan't wuth havin'. Emily had to scrimp along and do + dressmakin' till she died. She done fairly well at that, though, and saved + somethin' and passed it over to Mary. And Mary married Henry Thomas, after + she went with the Howes tribe to Concord, and he got rid of it for her in + double quick time—all but the Orham land.” + </p> + <p> + “So that was all you could find out, hey, Ase?” asked the captain. “Well, + it's at least as much as I expected. You see, teacher, these story-book + notions don't work out when it comes to real life.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes was plainly disappointed. + </p> + <p> + “I wish we knew more,” she said. “Who was on this ship with Mr. Thayer? + And who sent the news of his death home?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I can tell you that,” said Asaph. “'Twas some one-hoss doctor out + there, gold minin' himself, he was. John died of a quick fever. Got cold + and went off in no time. Seth remembered that much, though he couldn't + remember the doctor's name. He said, if I wanted to learn more about the + Thayers, I might go see—Humph, well, never mind that. 'Twas just + foolishness, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + But Phoebe persisted. + </p> + <p> + “To see whom?” she asked. “Some one you knew? A friend of yours?” + </p> + <p> + Asaph turned red. + </p> + <p> + “Friend of mine!” he snarled. “No, SIR! she ain't no friend of mine, I'm + thankful to say. More a friend of Bailey's, here, if she's anybody's. One + of his pets, she was, for a spell. A patient of his, you might say; + anyhow, he prescribed for her. 'Twas that deef idiot, Debby Beasley, Cy; + that's who 'twas. Her name was Briggs afore she married Beasley, and she + was hired help for Emily Thayer, when Mary was born, and until John died.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy burst into a roar of laughter. Bailey sprang out of his chair. + </p> + <p> + “De—Debby Beasley!” he stammered. “Debby Beasley!” + </p> + <p> + “She was that deef housekeeper Bailey hired for me, teacher,” explained + the captain. “I've told you about her. Ho! ho! so that's the end of the + mystery huntin'. We go gunnin' for Heman Atkins, and we bring down Debby! + Well, Ase, goin' to see the old lady?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt's retort was emphatic. + </p> + <p> + “Goin' to SEE her?” he repeated. “I guess not! Godfrey scissors! I told + Seth, says I, 'I've had all the Debby Beasley <i>I</i> want, and I + cal'late Cy Whittaker feels the same way.' Go to see her! I wouldn't go to + see her if she was up in Paradise a-hollerin' for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody up there's goin' to holler for YOU, Ase Tidditt,” remarked Bailey, + with sarcasm; “so don't let that worry you none.” + </p> + <p> + “Are YOU going to see her, Captain Whittaker?” asked Phoebe. + </p> + <p> + The captain shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, I guess not,” he said. “I don't take much stock in what she'd be + likely to know; besides, I'm a good deal like Ase—I've had about all + the Debby Beasley I want.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + DEBBY BEASLEY TO THE RESCUE + </h3> + <p> + “Mrs. Bangs,” said the schoolmistress, as if it was the most casual thing + in the world, “I want to borrow your husband to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + It was Friday evening, and supper at the perfect boarding house had + advanced as far as the stewed prunes and fruit-cake stage. Keturah, who + was carefully dealing out the prunes, exactly four to each saucer, stopped + short, spoon in air, and gazed at Miss Dawes. + </p> + <p> + “You—you want to WHAT?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I want to borrow your husband. I want him all day, too, because I'm + thinking of driving over to Trumet, and I need a coachman. You'll go, + won't you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + Bailey, who had been considering the advisability of asking for a second + cup of tea, brightened up and looked pleased. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” he answered, “I'll go. I can go just as well as not. Fact is, + I'd like to. Ain't been to Trumet I don't know when.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phinney and the widow Tripp looked at each other. Then they both + looked at Keturah. That lady's mouth closed tightly, and she resumed her + prune distribution. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry,” she said crisply, “but I'm 'fraid he can't go. It's Saturday, + and I'll need him round the house. Do you care for cake to-night, Elviry? + I'm 'fraid it's pretty dry; I ain't had time to do much bakin' this week.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” continued the smiling Phoebe, “I shouldn't think of asking + him to go for nothing. I didn't mean borrow him in just that way. I was + thinking of hiring your horse and buggy, and, as I'm not used to driving, + I thought perhaps I might engage Mr. Bangs to drive for me. I expected to + pay for the privilege. But, as you need him, I suppose I must get my rig + and driver somewhere else. I'm so sorry.” + </p> + <p> + The landlady's expression changed. This was the dull season, and + opportunities to “let” the family steed and buggy—“horse and team,” + we call it in Bayport—were few. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she observed, “I don't want to be unlikely and disobligin'. Far's + he's concerned, he'd rather be traipsin' round the country than stay to + home, any day; though it's been so long sence he took ME to ride that I + don't know's I'd know how to act.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ketury!” protested her husband. “How you talk! Didn't I drive you + down to the graveyard only last Sunday—or the Sunday afore?” + </p> + <p> + “Graveyard! Yes, I notice our rides always fetch up at the graveyard. + You're always willin' to take me THERE. Seems sometimes as if you enjoyed + doin' it.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Keturah! you know yourself that 'twas you proposed goin' there. You + said you wanted to look at our lot, 'cause you was afraid 'twan't big + enough, and you didn't know but we'd ought to add on another piece. You + said that it kept you awake nights worryin' for fear when I passed away + you wouldn't have room in that lot for me. Land sakes! don't I remember? + Didn't you give me the blue creeps talkin' about it?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bangs ignored this outburst. Turning to the school teacher, she said + with a sigh: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess he can go. I'll get along somehow. I hope he'll be careful + of the buggy; we had it painted only last January.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Tripp ventured a hinted question concerning the teacher's errand at + Trumet. The reply being noncommittal, the widow cheerfully prophesied that + she guessed 'twas going to rain or snow next day. “It's about time for the + line storm,” she added. + </p> + <p> + But it did not storm, although a brisk, cold gale was blowing when, after + breakfast next morning, the “horse and team,” with Bailey in his Sunday + suit and overcoat, and Miss Dawes on the buggy seat beside him, turned out + of the boarding-house yard and started on the twelve-mile journey to + Trumet. + </p> + <p> + It was a bleak ride. Denboro, the village adjoining Bayport on the bay + side, is a pretty place, with old elms and silverleafs shading the main + street in summer, and with substantial houses set each in its trim yard. + But beyond Denboro the Trumet road winds out over rolling, bare hills, + with cranberry bogs, now flooded and skimmed with ice, in the hollows + between them, clumps of bayberry and beach-plum bushes scattered over + their rounded slopes, and white scars in their sides showing where the + cranberry growers have cut away the thin layer of coarse grass and moss to + reach the sand beneath, sand which they use in preparing their bogs for + the new vines. + </p> + <p> + And the wind! There is always a breeze along the Trumet road, even in + summer—when the mosquitoes lie in wait to leeward like buccaneers + until, sighting the luckless wayfarer in the offing, they drive down + before the wind in clouds, literally to eat him alive. They are skilled + navigators, those Trumet road mosquitoes, and they know the advantage of + snug harbors under hat brims and behind spreading ears. And each + individual smashed by a frantic palm leaves a thousand blood relatives to + attend his funeral and exact revenge after the Corsican fashion. + </p> + <p> + Now, in December, there were, of course, no mosquitoes, but the wind tore + across those bare hilltops in gusts that rocked the buggy on its springs. + The bayberry bushes huddled and crouched before it. The sky was covered + with tumbling, flying clouds, which changed shape continually, and ripped + into long, fleecy ravelings, that broke loose and pelted on until merged + into the next billowy mass. The bay was gray and white, and in the spots + where an occasional sunbeam broke through and struck it, flashed like a + turned knife blade. + </p> + <p> + Bailey drove with one hand and held his hat on his head with the other. + The road had been deeply rutted during the November rains, and now the + ruts were frozen. The buggy wheels twisted and scraped as they turned in + the furrows. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” asked the schoolmistress, shouting so as to be heard + above the flapping of the buggy curtains. “Why do you watch that wheel?” + </p> + <p> + “'Fraid of the axle,” whooped Mr. Bangs in reply. “Nut's kind of loose, + for one thing, and the way the wheel wobbles I'm scart she'll come off. + Call this a road!” he snorted indignantly. “More like a plowed field a + consider'ble sight. Jerushy, how she blows! No wonder they raise so many + deef and dumb folks in Trumet. I'd talk sign language myself if I lived + here. What's the use of wastin' strength pumpin' up words when they're + blowed back down your throat fast enough to choke you? Git dap, Henry! + Don't you see the meetin' house steeple? We're most there, thank the + goodness.” + </p> + <p> + In Trumet Center, which is not much of a center, Miss Dawes alighted from + the buggy and entered a building bearing a sign with the words + “Metropolitan Variety Store, Joshua Atwood, Prop'r, Groceries, Coal, Dry + Goods, Insurance, Boots and Shoes, Garden Seeds, etc.” A smaller sign + beneath this was lettered “Justice of the Peace,” and one below that read + “Post Office.” + </p> + <p> + She emerged a moment later, followed by an elderly person in a red + cardigan jacket and overalls. + </p> + <p> + “Take the fust turnin' to the left, marm,” he said pointing. “It's pretty + nigh to East Trumet townhall. Fust house this side of the blacksmith shop. + About two mile, I'd say. Windy day for drivin', ain't it? That horse of + yours belongs in Bayport, I cal'late. Looks to me like—Hello, + Bailey!” + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Josh!” grunted Mr. Bangs, adding an explanatory aside to the + effect that he knew Josh Atwood, the latter having once lived in Bayport. + </p> + <p> + “But say,” he asked as they moved on once more, “have we got to go to EAST + Trumet? Jerushy! that's the place where the wind COMES from. They raise it + over there; anyhow, they don't raise much else. Whose house you goin' to?” + </p> + <p> + He had asked the same question at least ten times since leaving home, and + each time Miss Dawes had evaded it. She did so now, saying that she was + sure she should know the house when they got to it. + </p> + <p> + The two miles to East Trumet were worse than the twelve which they had + come. The wind fairly shrieked here, for the road paralleled the edge of + high sand bluffs close by the shore, and the ruts and “thank-you-marms” + were trying to the temper. Bailey's was completely wrecked. + </p> + <p> + “Teacher,” he snapped as they reached the crest of a long hill, and a + quick grab at his hat alone prevented its starting on a balloon ascension, + “get out a spell, will you? I've got to swear or bust, and 'long's you're + aboard I can't swear. What you standin' still for, you?” he bellowed at + poor Henry, the horse, who had stopped to rest. “I cal'late the critter + thinks that last cyclone must have blowed me sky high, and he's waitin' to + see where I light. Git dap!” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I shall get out very soon now,” panted Phoebe. “There's the + blacksmith shop over there near the next hill, and this house in the + hollow must be the one I'm looking for.” + </p> + <p> + They pulled up beside the house in the hollow. A little, story-and-a-half + house it was, and, judging by the neglected appearance of the weeds and + bushes in the yard, it had been unoccupied for some time. However, the + blinds were now open, and a few fowls about the back door seemed to + promise that some one was living there. The wooden letter box by the gate + had a name stenciled upon it. Miss Dawes sprang from the buggy and looked + at the box. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said. “This is the place. Will you come in, Mr. Bangs? You can + put your horse in that barn, I'm sure, if you want to.” + </p> + <p> + But Bailey declined to come in. He declared he was going on to the + blacksmith's shop to have that wheel fixed. He would not feel safe to + start for home with it as it was. He drove off, and Miss Dawes, knowing + from lifelong experience that front doors are merely for show, passed + around the main body of the house and rapped on the door in the ell. The + rap was not answered, though she could hear some one moving about within, + and a shrill voice singing “The Sweet By and By.” So she rapped again and + again, but still no one came to the door. At last she ventured to open it. + </p> + <p> + A thin woman, with her head tied up in a colored cotton handkerchief, was + in the room, vigorously wielding a broom. She was singing in a high + cracked voice. The opening of the door let in a gust of cold wind which + struck the singer in the back of the neck, and caused her to turn around + hastily. + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” she exclaimed. “Land sakes! you scare a body to death! Shut that + door quick! I ain't hankering for influenzy. Who are you? What do you + want? Why didn't you knock? Where's my specs?” + </p> + <p> + She took a pair of spectacles from the mantel shelf, rubbed them with her + apron, and set them on the bridge of her thin nose. Then she inspected the + schoolmistress from head to foot. + </p> + <p> + “I beg pardon for coming in,” shouted Phoebe. “I knocked, but you didn't + hear. You are Mrs. Beasley, aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want none,” replied Debby, with emphasis. “So there's no use your + wastin' your breath.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't want—” repeated the astonished teacher. “Don't want what?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? I say I don't want none.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't want WHAT?” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever 'tis you're peddlin'. Books or soap or tea, or whatever 'tis. I + don't want nothin'.” + </p> + <p> + After some strenuous minutes, the visitor managed to make it clear to Mrs. + Beasley's mind that she was not a peddler. She tried to add a word of + further explanation, but it was effort wasted. + </p> + <p> + “'Tain't no use,” snapped Debby, “I can't hear you, you speak so faint. + Wait till I get my horn; it's in the settin' room.” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe's wonder as to what the “horn” might be was relieved by the widow's + appearance, a moment later, with the biggest ear trumpet her caller had + ever seen. + </p> + <p> + “There, now!” she said, adjusting the instrument and thrusting the + bell-shaped end under the teacher's nose. “Talk into that. If you ain't a + peddler, what be you—sewin' machine agent?” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe explained that she had come some distance on purpose to see Mrs. + Beasley. She was interested in the Thayers, who used to live in Orham, + particularly in Mr. John Thayer, who died in 1854. She had been told that + Debby formerly lived with the Thayers, and could, no doubt, remember a + great deal about them. Would she mind answering a few questions, and so + on? + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beasley, her hearing now within forty-five degrees of the normal, + grew interested. She ushered her visitor into the adjoining room, and + proffered her a chair. That sitting room was a wonder of its kind, even to + the teacher's accustomed eyes. A gilt-framed crayon enlargement of the + late Mr. Beasley hung in the center of the broadest wall space, and was + not the ugliest thing in the apartment. Having said this, further + description is unnecessary—particularly to those who remember Mr. + Beasley's personal appearance. + </p> + <p> + “What you so interested in the Thayers for?” inquired Debby. “One of the + heirs, be you? They didn't leave nothin'.” + </p> + <p> + No, the schoolmistress was not an heir. Was not even a relative of the + family. But she was—was interested, just the same. A friend of hers + was a relative, and— + </p> + <p> + “What is your friend?” inquired the inquisitor. “A man?” + </p> + <p> + There was no reason why Miss Dawes should have changed color, but, + according to Debby's subsequent testimony, she did; she blushed, so the + widow declares. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she protested. “Oh, no! it's a—she's a child, that's all—a + little girl. But—” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you're gettin' up one of them geographical trees,” suggested Mrs. + Beasley. “I've seen 'em, fust settlers down in the trunk, and children and + grandchildren spreadin' out in the branches. Is that it?” + </p> + <p> + Here was an avenue of escape. Phoebe stretched the truth a trifle, and + admitted that that, or something of the sort, was what she was engaged in. + The explanation seemed to be satisfactory. Debby asked her visitor's name, + and, misunderstanding it, addressed her as “Miss Dorcas” thereafter. Then + she proceeded to give her reminiscences of the Thayers, and it did not + take long for the disappointed teacher to discover that, for all practical + purposes, these reminiscences were valueless. Mrs. Beasley remembered many + things, but nothing at all concerning John Thayer's life in the West, nor + the name of the ship he sailed in, nor who his shipmates were. + </p> + <p> + “He never wrote home but once or twice afore he died,” she said. “And when + he did Emily, his wife, never told me what was in his letters. She always + burnt 'em, I guess. I used to hunt around for 'em when she was out, but + she burnt 'em to spite me, I cal'late. Her and me didn't get along any too + well. She said I talked too much to other folks about what was none of + their business. Now, anybody that knows me knows THAT ain't one of my + failin's. I told her so; says I—” + </p> + <p> + And so on for ten minutes. Then Phoebe ventured to repeat the words “out + West,” and her companion went off on a new tack. She had just been West + herself. She had been on a visit to her husband's niece, who lived in + Arizona. In Blazeton, Arizona. “It's the nicest town ever you see,” she + continued. “And the smartest, most up-to-date place. Talk about the West + bein' oncivilized! My land! you ought to see that town! Electric lights, + and telephones, and—and—I don't know what all! Why, Miss + What's-your-name—Miss Dorcas, marm, you just ought to see the + photygraphs I've got that was took out there. My niece, she took 'em with + one of them little mites of cameras. You wouldn't believe such a little + box of a thing could take such photygraphs. I'm goin' to get 'em and show + 'em to you. No, sir! you ain't got to go, neither. Set right still and let + me fetch them photygraphs. 'Twon't be a mite of trouble. I'd love to do + it.” + </p> + <p> + Protests were unavailing. The photographs, at least fifty of them, were + produced, and the suffering caller was shown the Blazeton City Hall, and + the Blazeton “Palace Hotel,” and the home of the Beasley niece, taken from + the front, the rear, and both sides. With each specimen Debby delivered a + descriptive lecture. + </p> + <p> + “You see that house?” she asked. “Well, 'tain't much of a one to look at, + but it's got the most interestin' story tagged on to it. I made Eva, + that's my niece, take a picture of it just on that account. The woman that + lives there's had the hardest time. Her fust name's Desire, and that kind + of made me take an interest in her right off, 'cause I had an Aunt Desire + once, and it's a name you don't hear very often. Afterwards I got to know + her real well. She was a widder woman, like me, only she didn't have as + much sense as I've got, and went and married a second time. 'Twas 'long in + 1886 she done it. This man Higgins, he went to work for her on her place, + and pretty soon he married her. They lived together, principally on her + fust husband's insurance money, I cal'late, until a year or so ago. Then + the insurance money give out, and Mr. Higgins he says: 'Old woman,' he + says—I'D never let a husband of mine call me 'old woman,' but Desire + didn't seem to mind—'Old woman,' he says, 'I'm goin' over to + Phoenix'—that's another city in Arizona—'to look for a job.' + And he went, and she ain't heard hide—I mean seen hide nor heard + hair—What DOES ail me? She ain't seen nor heard of him since. And + she advertised in the weekly paper, and I don't know what all. She thinks + he was murdered, you know; that's what makes it so sort of creepy and + interestin'. Everybody was awful kind to her, and we got to be real good + friends. Why, I—” + </p> + <p> + This was but the beginning. It was evident that Mrs. Beasley had + thoroughly enjoyed herself in Blazeton, and that the sorrows of the + bereaved Desire Higgins had been one of the principal sources of that + enjoyment. The schoolmistress endeavored to turn the subject, but it was + useless. + </p> + <p> + “I fetched home a whole pile of them newspapers,” continued Debby. “They + was awful interestin'; full of pictures of Blazeton buildin's and leadin' + folks and all. And in some of the back numbers was the advertisement about + Mr. Higgins. I do wish I could show 'em to you, but I lent 'em to Mrs. + Atwood up to the Center. If 'twan't such a ways I'd go and fetch 'em. Mrs. + Atwood's been awful nice to me. She took care of my trunks and things when + I went West—yes, and afore that when I went to Bayport to keep house + for that miser'ble Cap'n Whittaker. I ain't told you about that, but I + will by and by. Them trunks had lots of things in 'em that I didn't want + to lose nor have anybody see. My diaries—I've kept a diary since + 1850—and—” + </p> + <p> + “Diaries?” interrupted Phoebe, grasping at straws. “Did you keep a diary + while you were at the Thayers?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Now, why didn't I think of that afore? More'n likely there'd be + somethin' in that to help you with that geographical tree. I used to put + down everything that happened, and—Where you goin'?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes had risen and was peering out of the window. + </p> + <p> + “I was looking to see if my driver was anywhere about,” she replied. “I + thought perhaps he would drive over to Mrs. Atwood's and get the diary for + you. But I don't see him.” + </p> + <p> + Just then, from around the corner of the house, peeped an agitated face; + an agitated forefinger beckoned. Debby stepped to the window beside her + visitor, and the face and finger went out of sight as if pulled by a + string. + </p> + <p> + Miss Phoebe smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I think I'll go out and look for him,” she said. “He must be near here. + I'll be right back, Mrs. Beasley.” + </p> + <p> + Without stopping to put on her jacket, she hurried through the dining + room, out of the door, and around the corner. There she found Mr. Bangs in + a highly nervous state. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you tell me 'twas Debby Beasley you was comin' to see?” he + demanded. “If you'd mentioned that deef image's name you'd never got ME to + drive you, I tell you that!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered the teacher sweetly. “I imagined that. That's why I didn't + tell you, Mr. Bangs. Now I want you to do me a favor. Will you drive over + to Trumet Center, and deliver a note and get a package for me? Then you + can come back here, and I shall be ready to start for home.” + </p> + <p> + “Drive! Drive nothin'! The blacksmith's out, and won't be back for another + hour. His boy's there, but he's a big enough lunkhead to try bailin' out a + dory with a fork, and that buggy axle is bent so it's simply got to be + fixed. I'd no more go home to Ketury with that buggy as 'tis than I'd—Oh! + my land of love!” + </p> + <p> + The ejaculation was almost a groan. There at the corner, ear trumpet + adjusted, and spectacles glistening, stood Debby Beasley. Bailey appeared + to wilt under her gaze as if the spectacles were twin suns. Miss Dawes + looked as if she very much wanted to laugh. The widow stared in silence. + </p> + <p> + “How—how d'ye do, Mrs. Beasley?” faltered Mr. Bangs, not forgetting + to raise his voice. “I hope you're lookin' as well as you feel. I mean, I + hope you're smart.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beasley nodded decisively. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered. “I'm pretty toler'ble, thank you. What was the + matter, Mr. Bangs? Why didn't you come in? Do you usually make your calls + round the corner?” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman addressed seemed unable to reply. The schoolmistress came to + the rescue. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't blame Mr. Bangs, Mrs. Beasley,” she explained. “He wasn't + responsible for what happened at Captain Whittaker's. He is the gentleman + who drove me over here. I was going to send him to Mrs. Atwood's for the + diary.” + </p> + <p> + “Who said I was blamin' him?” queried the widow. “If 'twas that little + Tidditt thing I might feel different. But, considerin' that I got this + horn from Mr. Bangs, I'm willin' to let bygones be past. It helps my + hearin' a lot. Them ear-fixin's was good while they lasted, but they got + out of kilter quick. <i>I</i> shan't bother Mr. Bangs. If he can square + his own conscience, I'm satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + Bailey's conscience was not troubling him greatly, and he seemed relieved. + Phoebe told of the damaged buggy. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted the widow. “The horse didn't get bent, too, did he?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs indignantly declared that the horse was all right. + </p> + <p> + “Um—hum. Well, then, I guess I can supply a carriage. My fust cousin + Ezra that died used to be doctor here, and he give me his sulky when he + got a new one. It's out in the barn. Go fetch your horse, and harness him + in. I'll be ready time the harnessin's done.” + </p> + <p> + “You?” gasped the teacher. “You don't need to go, Mrs. Beasley. I wouldn't + think of giving you that trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “No trouble at all. I wouldn't trust nobody else with them trunks. And + besides, I always do enjoy ridin'. You could go, too, Miss Dorcas, but the + sulky seat's too narrer for three. You can set in the settin' room till we + get back. 'Twon't take us long. Don't say another word; I'm A-GOIN'.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <h3> + A REMARKABLE DRIVE AND WHAT FOLLOWED + </h3> + <p> + The number of reasons given by Mr. Bangs one after the other, to prove + that it would be quite impossible for him to be Mrs. Beasley's charioteer + was a credit to the resources of his invention. The blacksmith might be + back any minute; it was dinner time, and he was hungry; Henry, the horse, + was tired; it wasn't a nice day for riding, and he would come over some + other time and take the widow out; he—But Debby had a conclusive + answer for each protest. + </p> + <p> + “You said yourself the blacksmith wouldn't be back for an hour,” she + observed. “And you can leave word with the boy what he's to do when he + does come. As for dinner, I'll be real glad to give you and Miss Dorcas a + snack soon's we get back. I don't mind if it ain't a pleasant day; a + little fresh air 'll do me good. I been shut up here house-cleanin' ever + since I got back from out West. Now, hurry right along, and fetch your + horse. I'll unlock the barn.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mrs. Beasley,” put in the schoolmistress, “why couldn't you give us + a note to Mrs. Atwood and let us stop for the diary on our way home? I + could return it to you by mail. Or you might get it yourself some other + day and mail it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! Never put off till to-morrer what you can do to-day. My husband + was a great hand to put off and put off. For the last eight years of his + life I was at him to buy a new go-to-meetin' suit of clothes. The one he + had was blue to start with, but it faded to a brown, and, toward the last + of it, I declare if it didn't commence to turn green. Nothin' I could say + would make him heave it away even then. Seemed to think more of it than + ever. Said he wanted to hang to it a spell and see what 'twould turn next. + But he died and was laid out in that same suit, and I was so mortified at + the funeral I couldn't think of nothin' else. No, I'll go after them + papers and the diary while they're fresh in my mind. And besides, do you + s'pose I'd let Sarah Ann Atwood rummage through my trunks? I guess not!” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe began to be sorry she had thought of sending for the diary, + particularly as the chance of its containing valuable information was so + remote. Mrs. Beasley went into the house to dress for the ride. The + schoolmistress went with her as far as the sitting room. The perturbed + Bailey stalked off, muttering, to the blacksmith's. + </p> + <p> + In a little while he returned, leading Henry by the bridle. Debby, adorned + with the beflowered bonnet she had worn when she arrived at the Cy + Whittaker place, and with a black cloth cape over her lean shoulders, was + waiting for him by the open door of the barn. The cape had a fur collar—“cat + fur,” so Mr. Bangs said afterwards in describing it. + </p> + <p> + “Pull the sulky right out,” commanded the widow. + </p> + <p> + Bailey stared into the black interior of the barn. + </p> + <p> + “Which is it?” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beasley pointed with her ear trumpet. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that one there, of course. 'Tother's a truck cart. You wouldn't + expect me to ride in that, would you?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs entered the barn, seized the vehicle indicated by the shafts, + and drew it out into the yard. He inspected it deliberately, and then sat + weakly down on the chopping block near by. Apparently he was overcome by + emotion. + </p> + <p> + The “sulky” bequeathed by the late doctor had been built to order for its + former owner. It was of the “carryall” variety, except that it had but a + single narrow seat. Its top was square and was curtained, the curtains + being tightly buttoned down. Altogether it was something of a curiosity. + Miss Dawes, who had come out to see the start, looked at the “sulky,” then + at Mr. Bangs's face, and turned her back. Her shoulders shook: + </p> + <p> + “It used to be a real nice carriage when Ezra had it,” commented the widow + admiringly. “It needs ilin' and sprucin' up now, but I guess 'twill do. + Come!” to Bailey, who had not risen from the chopping block. “Hurry up and + harness or we'll never get started. Thought you wanted to get back for + dinner?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs stood up and heaved a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “I did,” he answered slowly, “but,” with a glance at the sulky, “somethin' + seems to have took away my appetite. Teacher, do you mean to—” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Dawes had withdrawn to the corner of the house, from which + viewpoint she seemed to be inspecting the surrounding landscape. Bailey + seized Henry by the bridle and backed him into the shafts. + </p> + <p> + “Back up!” he roared. “Back up, I tell you! You needn't look at me that + way,” he added, in a lower tone. “<i>I</i> can't help it. You ain't any + worse ashamed than I am. There! the ark's off the ways. All aboard!” + </p> + <p> + Turning to the expectant widow, he “boosted” her, not too tenderly, up to + the narrow seat. Then he climbed in himself. Two on that seat made a tight + fit. Bailey took up the reins. Debby leaned forward and peered around the + edge of the curtains. + </p> + <p> + “You!” she shouted. “You, Miss What's-your-name—Dorcas! Come here a + minute. I want to tell you somethin'.” + </p> + <p> + The schoolmistress, her face red and her eyes moist, approached. + </p> + <p> + “I just wanted to say,” explained Debby, “that I ain't real sure as that + diary's there. I burnt up a lot of my old letters and things a spell ago, + and seems to me I burnt some old diaries, too, but maybe that wan't one of + 'em. Anyhow, I can get them Arizona papers, and I do want you to see 'em. + They're the most INTERESTIN' things. Now,” she added, turning to her + companion on the seat, “you can git dap just as soon as you want to.” + </p> + <p> + Whether or not Mr. Bangs wanted to “git dap” is a doubtful question. But + at all events he did. Before the astonished Miss Dawes could think of an + answer to the observation concerning the diary, the carriage, its long + unused axles shrieking protests, moved out of the yard. The schoolmistress + watched it go. Then she returned to the sitting room and collapsed in a + rocking chair. + </p> + <p> + Once out from the shelter of the house and on the open road, the sulky + received the full force of the wind. The first gust that howled in from + the bay struck its curtained side with a sudden burst of power that caused + Mrs. Beasley to clutch her driver's arm. + </p> + <p> + “Good land of mercy!” she screamed. “It blows real hard, don't it?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs's answer was in the form of delicate sarcasm, bellowed into the + ear trumpet. + </p> + <p> + “Sho!” he exclaimed. “I want to know! You don't say! Now you mention it, + seems as if I had noticed a little air stirrin'.” + </p> + <p> + Another gust tilted the carriage top. Debby clutched the arm still + tighter. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it blows awful hard!” she cried. “I'd no idee it blew like this.” + </p> + <p> + “Want to 'bout ship and go home again?” whooped Bailey, hopefully. But the + widow didn't intend to give up the rare luxury of a “ride” which a kind + Providence had cast in her way. + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” she answered. “I guess if you folks come all the way from + Bayport I can stand it as fur's the Center. But hurry all you can, won't + you? I'm kind of 'fraid of the springs.” + </p> + <p> + “Springs? What springs? Let go my arm, will you? It's goin' to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beasley let go of the arm momentarily. + </p> + <p> + “I mean the springs on this carriage,” she explained. “Last time I lent it + to anybody—Solon Davis, 'twas—he said the bolts underneath was + pretty nigh rusted out, and about all that held the wagon part on was its + own weight. So we'll have to be kind of careful.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—I—swan—to—MAN!” was Mr. Bangs's sole comment + on the amazing disclosure; however, as an expression of concentrated and + profound disgust it was quite sufficient. He spoke but once during the + remainder of the trip to the “Center.” Then, when his passenger begged to + know if “that Whittaker man” had been well since she left, he shouted: + “Yes—EVER since,” and relapsed into his former gloomy silence. + </p> + <p> + The widow's stop at the Atwood house, which was in the immediate rear of + the Atwood store, was of a half hour's duration. Bailey refused to leave + the seat of the sulky and sat there, speaking to no one; not even replying + to the questions of a group of loungers who gathered to inspect the + ancient vehicle, and professed to be in doubt as to whether it had been + washed in with the tide or been “left” to him in a will. + </p> + <p> + At last Debby made her appearance, her arms filled with newspapers. The + latter she piled under the carriage seat, and then climbed to her former + place beside the driver. Henry, in response to a slap from the reins, got + under way once more. The axles squeaked and screamed. + </p> + <p> + “Gee!” cried one youngster, from the steps of the store. “It's the steam + calliope. When's the rest of the show comin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Hi!” yelled another. “See how close they're hugged up together. Ain't + they lovin'! It's a weddin'!” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up!” roared the tortured Bailey, whose hat had blown back into the + body of the sulky, leaving his bald head exposed to the cutting wind. + </p> + <p> + The audience begged him to give them a lock of his hair, and added other + remarks of a personal nature concerning the youth and beauty of the bridal + couple and their chariot. Mr. Bangs was in a state of dumb frenzy. Debby, + who, without her trumpet, had heard nothing of all this, was smiling and + garrulous. + </p> + <p> + “I found all the papers,” she said. “They're right under the seat. I'm + goin' to look 'em over so's to have the interestin' parts all ready to + show Miss Dorcas when we get home. Ain't it nice I found 'em?” + </p> + <p> + In spite of her driver's remonstrances, unheard because of the + nonadjustment of the trumpet, she reached under the seat and brought out + the pile of Blazeton weeklies. With her feet upon the pile to keep it from + blowing away, she proceeded to unfold one of the papers. It crackled and + snapped in the wind like a loose mainsail. + </p> + <p> + “Keep that dratted thing out of my face, won't you?” shrieked the agonized + Bailey. “How'm I goin' to see to steer with that smackin' me between the + eyes every other second?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Did you speak to me?” asked the widow sweetly. + </p> + <p> + “Did I SPEAK? No, I screeched! What in tunket—” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to see this picture of the mayor's house in Blazeton. Eva, my + husband's niece, lives right acrost the road from him. Many's the time + I've set on their piazza and seen him come out and go to the City Hall.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep it out of my face, I tell you! Reef it! Furl it, you—you + woman! I wish to thunder the piazza had caved in on you! I never see such + an old fool in my born days. TAKE IT AWAY!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beasley removed the paper, but only to substitute another. + </p> + <p> + “Here's Eva's brother-in-law,” she screamed. “He's one of the prominent + business men out there, so they put him in the paper. Ain't he nice + lookin'?” + </p> + <p> + Bailey's comments on the prominent business man's appearance were anything + but flattering. Debby continued to reach for more papers, carefully + replacing those she had inspected in the pile beneath her feet. The wind + blew as hard as ever; even harder, for it was now almost dead ahead. Henry + plodded along. They were in the hollow at the foot of the last long hill, + that from which the blacksmith shop had first been sighted. + </p> + <p> + “I know what I'll do,” declared the passenger. “I'll hunt for that missin' + husband advertisement of Desire Higgins's. Let's see now! 'Twill be down + at the bottom of the pile, 'cause the paper it's in is a last year one.” + </p> + <p> + She bobbed down behind the high dashboard. Mr. Bangs stood up in order + that her gymnastics might interfere, to a lesser degree, with his driving. + The equipage began to move up the slope of the hill, bouncing and twisting + in the frozen ruts. + </p> + <p> + “Here 'tis!” exclaimed Debby. “I remember it's in this number, 'cause + there's a picture of the Palace Hotel on the front page. Let's see—'Dog + lost'—no, that ain't it. 'Corner lot for sale'—wish I had + money enough to buy it; I'd like nothin' better than to live out there. + 'Information wanted of my husband'—Here 'tis! Um—hum!” + </p> + <p> + She straightened up and eagerly began reading the advertisement. The hill + was very steep just at its top, and the sulky slanted backward at a sharp + angle. A terrific burst of wind tore around the corner of the bluff. It + eddied through the sulky between the dashboard and the curtained sides. + The widow, in her excitement at finding the advertisement, had + inadvertently removed her feet from the pile of papers. In an instant the + air was filled with whirling copies of the Blazeton Weekly Courier. + </p> + <p> + Henry, the horse, was a sober animal who had long ago reached the age of + discretion. But to have his old ears and eyes suddenly blanketed with a + flapping white thing swooping apparently from nowhere was too much even + for his sedate nerves. He jumped sidewise. The reins were jerked from the + driver's hands and fell in the road. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy on us!” shrieked Debby, clutching her companion about the waist. + “What—” + </p> + <p> + “Let go of me!” howled Bailey, pushing her violently aside. “Whoa! Stand + still!” + </p> + <p> + But Henry refused to stand still. The flapping paper still clung to his + agitated head. He reared and pranced, jerking the sulky back and forth, + its wheels still wedged in the ruts. Bailey sprang to the ground to pick + up the reins. He seized them, but fell as he did so. The tug at his bits + turned Henry's head, literally and figuratively. He reared and whirled + about. The sulky rose on two wheels. The screaming Mrs. Beasley collapsed + against its downward side. Another moment, and the whole upper half of the + sulky—body, seat, curtains, and Debby—tilted over the lower + wheels, and, the rusted bolts failing to hold, slid with a thump to the + frozen road. The wind, catching it underneath as it slid, tipped it + backward. Then Henry ran away. + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes, left alone in the house at the foot of the hill, had amused + herself for a time with the Beasley library, which partially filled a + shelf in the sitting room. But “The Book of Martyrs” and “A Believer's + Thoughts on Death” were not cheering literature, particularly as the + author of the latter volume “thought” so dismally concerning the future of + all who did not believe precisely as he did. So the teacher laid down the + book, with a shudder, and wandered about the room, inspecting the late Mr. + Beasley's portrait, the photographs in splintwork frames, the “alum + basket” on the mantel, the blue castles, blue trees, and blue people + pictured on the window shades, and other works of art in the apartment. + She even peeped into the parlor, but the musty, shut-up smell of that + dusky tomb was too much for her, and she sat down by the sitting-room + window, under the empty bird cage, to look up the road and watch for the + return of the sulky and its occupants. + </p> + <p> + Sitting there, she was a witness of the alarming catastrophe on the + hilltop, and reached the front gate just in time to see Henry go galloping + by, dragging the four wheels and springs of the sulky, while, sprawled + across the rear axle and still clinging to the reins, hung a familiar, + howling, and most wickedly profane individual by the name of Bangs. + </p> + <p> + The runaway dashed on toward the blacksmith shop. Phoebe, bareheaded and + coatless, ran up the hill. Before she reached the crest, she was aware of + muffled screams, which sounded as if the screamer was shut up in a trunk. + </p> + <p> + “O-o-oh!” screamed Mrs. Beasley. “O-o-oh! Ow! Let me out! Help! I'm stuck! + My back's broke! He-e-lp!” + </p> + <p> + The upper part of the sulky, with its boxlike curtained top, lay on its + side in the road. From somewhere within the box came the groans and + screams. The gale swept the hilltop, and, for a quarter mile to leeward, + the scenery was animated by soaring, fluttering copies of the Blazeton + Courier, that swooped and ducked like mammoth white butterflies. + </p> + <p> + The panting and alarmed teacher stooped and peered into the dark shadow + between the dashboard and the back curtain. All she could make out at + first were a pair of thin ankles and “Congress” shoes in agitated motion. + These bobbed up and down behind the overturned seat and its displaced + cushion. + </p> + <p> + “O Mrs. Beasley!” screamed Phoebe. “Are you hurt?” + </p> + <p> + Debby, of course, did not hear the question. She continued to groan and + scream for help. Her lungs were not injured, at all events. The + schoolmistress, dropping on her knees, reached into the sulky top and + tugged at the seat. It was rather tightly wedged, but she managed to + loosen it and pull it toward her. + </p> + <p> + The widow raised herself on an elbow and looked out between the flowers of + her smashed bonnet. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” she demanded. “Oh, is that you, Miss Dorcas? Oh, my soul and + body! Oh, my stars! Oh, my goodness me!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you hurt?” shrieked Phoebe. + </p> + <p> + “Hey? I don't know! I don't know WHAT I be! I don't know nothin'!” + </p> + <p> + “Can you help yourself? Can you get up?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? I don't know. Maybe I can if you haul that everlastin' seat out of + the way. Oh, my sakes alive!” + </p> + <p> + Her rescuer pulled the seat forward, and, with an effort, tumbled it clear + of the curtains. Debby raised herself still higher. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she groaned. “Talk about—Land sakes! who's comin'? Men, ain't + it? Let me out of here quick! QUICK!” + </p> + <p> + She scrambled out of her prison on hands and knees, and jumped to her feet + with reassuring alacrity. Her fur-collared cape was draped in a roll about + her neck, and her bonnet hung jauntily over her left eye. + </p> + <p> + “I'm a sight, ain't I?” she asked. “Haul this bunnet straight, quick's + ever you can. Hurt? No, no! I ain't hurt none but my feelin's. Hurry UP! + S'pose I want them men folks to see me with everything all hind side to?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes, relieved to find that the accident had had no serious + consequences, and trying her hardest not to laugh, assisted the widow to + rearrange her wearing apparel. The blacksmith and his helper came running + up the hill. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Debby!” hailed the former. “What's the matter? Hurt, be you?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beasley, whether she heard or not, did not deign to reply. + </p> + <p> + “Get my horn out of that carriage,” she ordered. “Don't stand there + gapin'. Get it.” + </p> + <p> + The ear trumpet was resurrected from the interior of the vehicle. The + widow adjusted it with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Had a spill, didn't you, Debby?” inquired the blacksmith. “Upset, didn't + you?” + </p> + <p> + Debby glared at him. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she replied with sarcasm. “Course I didn't upset! Just thought I'd + roll round in the road for the fun of it. Smart question, that is! Where's + that Bailey Bangs gone to with the rest of my carriage?” + </p> + <p> + The blacksmith pointed to his shop in the hollow. Before it stood Mr. + Bangs, holding Henry by the bridle, and staring in their direction. + </p> + <p> + “He's all right,” volunteered the “helper.” “The horse stopped runnin' + soon's he got to the foot of the next hill.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Beasley was not, apparently, overjoyed at the news. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” she grunted. “I 'most wish he'd broke his neck! Pesky, careless + thing! gettin' us run away with and upset. Who's goin' to pay for fixin' + my sulky, I want to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs will pay for it, I'm sure,” said Phoebe soothingly. “If he + doesn't, I will. Oh, Mrs. Beasley! did you find the diary?” + </p> + <p> + “Diary? No, no! I told you I was afraid I'd burnt it up. Well, I had, and + a whole lot more of them old ones. But I did get all them Arizona papers, + and took the trouble to tote 'em all the way here so's you could look at + 'em. And now”—she shook with indignation and waved her hand toward a + section of horizon where little white dots indicated the whereabouts of + the Couriers—“now look where they be! Blowed from Dan to Beersheby! + Come on to the house and let me set down. I been standin' on my head till + I'm tired. Here, Jabez,” to the blacksmith, “you tend to that carriage, + will you?” + </p> + <p> + She stalked off down the hill. The schoolmistress turning to follow her, + caught a glimpse of the “helper” doubled up with silent laughter, and the + blacksmith grinning broadly as he stooped toward the capsized sulky. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe was downcast and disappointed. She was convinced, in her own mind, + that the Honorable Atkins had some hidden motive for his espousal of the + Thomas cause. Asaph's fruitless quest in Orham had not shaken her faith. + Captain Cy had refused to seek Debby Beasley for information concerning + the Thayers, and so she, on her own responsibility, had done so. And this + was the ridiculous ending of her journey. The diary had been a forlorn + hope; now that was burned. Poor Bos'n! and poor—some one else! + </p> + <p> + Debby marching down the hill, continued to sputter about the lost + weeklies. + </p> + <p> + “It's an everlastin' shame!” she declared. “I'd just found the one with + that advertisement in it and was readin' it. I remember the part I read, + plain as could be. While we're eatin' dinner I'll tell you about it.” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Dawes did not care for dinner. Like Mr. Tidditt and the captain, + she had had about all the Debby Beasley she wanted. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, you will stop, too,” affirmed the widow. “I want to tell you + more about Blazeton. I can see that advertisement this minute, right afore + my eyes—'Information wanted of my husband, Edward Higgins. Five foot + eight inches tall, sandy complected, brown hair, and yellowish mustache; + not lame, but has a peculiar slight limp with his left foot—'” + </p> + <p> + “What?” asked the schoolmistress, stopping short. + </p> + <p> + “Hey? 'Has a peculiar limp with his left foot.' I remember how Desire used + to talk about that limp. She said 'twas almost as if he stuttered with his + leg. He hurt it when he was up in Montana, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried Miss Dawes. The color had left her face. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You see he used to be a miner or somethin' up there. He'd never say + much about his younger days, but one time he did tell that. I'd just got + as far as that limp when the sulky upset. Talk about bein' surprised! I + never was so surprised in my life as when that horse critter rared up and—” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe interrupted. Her color had come back, and her eyes were shining. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Beasley,” she cried, “I think I shall change my mind. I believe I + will stay to dinner after all. I'm EVER so much interested in Arizona.” + </p> + <p> + Bailey and the teacher began their long drive home about four o'clock. The + buggy axle had been fixed, and the wind was less violent. Mr. Bangs was + glum and moody. He seemed to be thinking. + </p> + <p> + “Say, teacher,” he said at length, “I'd like to ask a favor of you. If it + ain't necessary, I wish you wouldn't say nothin' about that upsettin' + business to the folks to home. It does sound so dum foolish! I'll never + hear the last of it.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes, who had been in high spirits, now took a moment for + reflection. + </p> + <p> + “All right!” she said, nodding vigorously. “We won't mention it, then. We + won't tell a soul. You can say that I called at the Atwoods', if you want + to; that will be true, because I did. And we'll have Mrs. Beasley for our + secret—yours and mine—until we decide to tell. It's a bargain, + Mr. Bangs. We must shake hands on it.” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands, and Bailey, looking in her face, thought he never saw + her look so well or as young. She was pretty, he decided. Then he thought + of his own choice of a wife, and—well, if he had any regrets, he + hasn't mentioned them, not even to his fellow-member of the Board of + Strategy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <h3> + THE CAPTAIN REMEMBERS HIS AGE + </h3> + <p> + December was nearly over. Christmas had come. Bos'n had hung up her + stocking by the base-burner stove, and found it warty and dropsical the + next morning, with a generous overflow of gifts piled on the floor beneath + it. The Board of Strategy sent presents; so did Miss Dawes and Georgianna. + As for Captain Cy he spent many evening hours, after the rest of his + household was in bed, poring over catalogues of toys and books, and the + orders he sent to the big shops in Boston were lengthy and costly. The + little girl's eyes opened wide when she saw the stocking and the treasures + heaped on the floor. She sat in her “nighty” amidst the wonders, books, + and playthings in a circle about her, and the biggest doll of all hugged + close in her arms. Captain Cy, who had arisen at half past five in order + to be with her on the great occasion, was at least as happy as she. + </p> + <p> + “Like 'em, do you?” he asked, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “like 'em! O Uncle Cy! What makes everybody so good to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. Strange thing, ain't it—considerin' what a hard + little ticket you are.” + </p> + <p> + Bos'n laughed. She understood her “Uncle Cy,” and didn't mind being called + a “hard ticket” by him. + </p> + <p> + “I—I—didn't believe anybody COULD have such a nice Christmas. + I never saw so many nice things.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! What do you like best?” + </p> + <p> + The answer was a question, and was characteristic. + </p> + <p> + “Which did you give me?” asked Bos'n. + </p> + <p> + The captain would have dodged, but she wouldn't let him. So one by one the + presents he had given were indicated and put by themselves. The remainder + were but few, but she insisted that the givers of these should be named. + When the sorting was over she sat silently hugging her doll and, + apparently, thinking. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” inquired the amused captain. “Made up your mind yet? Which do you + like best?” + </p> + <p> + The child nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Why, these, of course,” she declared with emphasis, pointing with her + dollie's slippered foot at Captain Cy's pile. + </p> + <p> + “So? Do, hey? Didn't know I could pick so well. All right; the first prize + is mine. Who takes the second?” + </p> + <p> + This time Bos'n deliberated before answering. At last, however, she bent + forward and touched the teacher's gifts. + </p> + <p> + “These,” she said. “I like these next best.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Sho!” he exclaimed. “You don't say!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I think I like teacher next to you. I like Georgianna and Mr. + Tidditt and Mr. Bangs, of course, but I like her a little better. Don't + you, uncle Cyrus?” + </p> + <p> + The captain changed the subject. He asked her what she should name her + doll. + </p> + <p> + The Board of Strategy came in during the forenoon, and the presents had to + be shown to them. While the exhibition was in progress Miss Dawes called. + And before she left Gabe Lumley drove up in the depot wagon bearing a big + express package addressed to “Miss Emily Thomas, Bayport.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” exclaimed Captain Cy. “Somethin' more for Bos'n, hey! Who in the + world sent it, do you s'pose?” + </p> + <p> + Asaph and Bailey made various inane suggestions as to the sender. Phoebe + said nothing. There was a frown on her face as she watched the captain get + to work on the box with chisel and hammer. It contained a beautiful doll, + fully and expensively dressed, and pinned to the dress was a card—“To + dear little Emmie, from her lonesome Papa.” + </p> + <p> + The Board of Strategy looked at the doll in wonder and astonishment. + Captain Cy strode away to the window. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” exclaimed Mr. Bangs. “I didn't believe he had that much heart + inside of him. I bet you that cost four or five dollars; ain't that so, + Cy?” + </p> + <p> + The captain did not answer. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think so, teacher?” repeated Bailey, turning to Phoebe. “What + ails you? You don't seem surprised.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not,” replied the lady. “I expected something of that sort.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy wheeled from the window. + </p> + <p> + “You DID?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Miss Phinney said the other day she had heard that that man was + going to give his daughter a beautiful present. She was very enthusiastic + about his generosity and self-sacrifice. I asked who told her and she said + Mr. Simpson.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Tad? Is that so!” The captain looked at her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And I think there is no doubt that Simpson had orders to make the + 'generosity' known to as many townspeople as possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! I see. You figure that Thomas cal'lates 'twill help his popularity + and make his case stronger; is that it?” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly. I doubt if he ever thought of such a thing himself. But some + one thought for him—and some one must have supplied the money.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they say he's to work up in Boston.” + </p> + <p> + “I know. But no one can tell where he works. Captain Whittaker, this is + Mr. Atkins's doing—you know it. Now, WHY does he, a busy man, take + such an interest in getting this child away from you?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy shook his head and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Teacher,” he said, “you're dead set on taggin' Heman with a mystery, + ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Dawes,” asked the forgetful Bailey, “when you and me went drivin' + t'other day did you find out anything from—” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe interrupted quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” she said, “at what time do we distribute Christmas presents + at your boarding house? I suppose you must have many Christmas secrets to + keep. You keep a secret SO well.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs turned red. The hint concerning secret keeping was not wasted. + He did not mention the drive again. + </p> + <p> + A little later Captain Cy found Bos'n busily playing with the doll he had + given her. The other, her father's gift, was nowhere in sight. + </p> + <p> + “I put her back in the box,” said the child in reply to his question. “She + was awful pretty, but I think I'm goin' to love this one best.” + </p> + <p> + The remark seems a foolish thing to give comfort to a grown man, but + Captain Cy found comfort in it, and comfort was what he needed. + </p> + <p> + He needed it more as time went on. In January the court gave its decision. + The captain's appointment as guardian was revoked. With the father alive, + and professedly anxious to provide for the child's support, nothing else + was to be expected, so Mr. Peabody said. The latter entered an appeal + which would delay matters for a time, two or three months perhaps; + meanwhile Captain Cy was to retain custody of Bos'n. + </p> + <p> + But the court's action, expected though it was, made the captain very blue + and downcast. He could see no hope. He felt certain that he should lose + the little girl in the end, in spite of the long succession of appeals + which his lawyer contemplated. And what would become of her then? What + sort of training would she be likely to have? Who would her associates be, + under the authority of a father such as hers? And what would he do, alone + in the old house, when she had gone for good? He could not bear to think + of it, and yet he thought of little else. + </p> + <p> + The evenings, after Bos'n had gone to bed, were the worst. During the day + he tried his best to be busy at something or other. The doll house was + finished, and he had begun to fashion a full-rigged ship in miniature. In + reality Emily, being a normal little girl, was not greatly interested in + ships, but, because Uncle Cy was making it, she pretended to be vastly + concerned about this one. On Saturdays and after school hours she sat on a + box in the wood shed, where the captain had put up a small stove, and + watched him work. The taboo which so many of our righteous and + Atkins-worshiping townspeople had put upon the Whittaker place and its + occupants included her, and a number of children had been forbidden to + play with her. This, however, did not prevent their tormenting her about + her father and her disreputable guardian. + </p> + <p> + But the captain's evenings were miserable. He no longer went to Simmons's. + He didn't care for the crowd there, and knew they were all “down” on him. + Josiah Dimick called occasionally, and the Board of Strategy often, but + their conversation was rather tiresome. There were times when Captain Cy + hated Bayport, the house he had “fixed up” with such interest and pride, + and the old sitting room in particular. The mental picture of comfort and + contentment which had been his dream through so many years of struggle and + wandering, looked farther off than ever. Sometimes he was tempted to run + away, taking Bos'n with him. But the captain had never run away from a + fight yet; he had never abandoned a ship while there was a chance of + keeping her afloat. And, besides, there was another reason. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe Dawes had come to be his chief reliance. He saw a great deal of + her. Often when she walked home from school, she found him hanging over + the front gate, and they talked of various things—of Bos'n's + progress with her studies, of the school work, and similar topics. He + called her by her first name now, although in this there was nothing + unusual—after a few weeks' acquaintance we Bayporters almost + invariably address people by their “front” names. Sometimes she came to + the house with Emily. Then the three sat by the stove in the sitting room, + and the apartment became really cheerful, in the captain's eyes. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe was in good spirits. She was as hopeful as Captain Cy was + despondent. She seemed to have little fear of the outcome of the legal + proceedings, the appeals and the rest. In fact, she now appeared desirous + of evading the subject, and there was about her an air of suppressed + excitement. Her optimism was the best sort of bracer for the captain's + failing courage. Her advice was always good, and a talk with her left him + with shoulders squared, mentally, and almost happy. + </p> + <p> + One cold, rainy afternoon, early in February, she came in with Bos'n, who + had availed herself of the shelter of the teacher's umbrella. Georgianna + was in the kitchen baking, and Emily had been promised a “saucer pie”—so + the child went out to superintend the construction of that treat. + </p> + <p> + “Set down, teacher,” said Captain Cy, pushing forward a rocker. “My! but + I'm glad to see you. 'Twas bluer'n a whetstone 'round here to-day. What's + the news—anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” replied Phoebe, accepting the rocker and throwing open her wet + jacket; “there's no news in particular. But I wanted to ask if you had + seen the Breeze?” + </p> + <p> + “Um—hum,” was the listless answer. “I presume likely you mean the + news about the appropriation, and the editorial dig at yours truly? Yes, + I've seen it. They don't bother me much. I've got more important things on + my mind just now.” + </p> + <p> + Congressman Atkins's pledge in his farewell speech, concerning the mighty + effort he was to make toward securing the appropriation for Bayport + harbor, was in process of fulfillment—so he had written to the local + paper. But, alas! the mighty effort was likely to prove unavailing. In + spite of the Honorable Heman's battle for his constituents' rights it + seemed certain that the bill would not provide the thirty thousand dollars + for Bayport; at least, not this year's bill. Other and more powerful + interests would win out and, instead, another section of the coast be + improved at the public expense. The congressman was deeply sorry, almost + broken-hearted. He had battled hard for his beloved town, he had worked + night and day. But, to be perfectly frank, there was little or no hope. + </p> + <p> + Few of us blamed Heman Atkins. The majority considered his letter “noble” + and “so feeling.” But some one must be blamed for a community + disappointment like this, and the scapegoat was on the premises. How about + that “committee of one” self-appointed at town meeting? How about the + blatant person who had declared HE could have gotten the appropriation? + What had the “committee” done? Nothing! nothing at all! He had not even + written to the Capital—so far as anyone could find out—much + less gone there. + </p> + <p> + So, at Simmons's and the sewing circle, and after meeting on Sunday, Cy + Whittaker was again discussed and derided. And this week's Breeze, out + that morning, contained a sarcastic editorial which mentioned no names, + but hinted at “a certain now notorious person” who had boasted loudly, but + who had again “been weighed in the balance of public opinion and found + wanting.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Dawes did not seem pleased with the captain's nonchalant attitude + toward the Breeze and its editorial. She tapped the braided mat with her + foot. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Cyrus,” she said, “if you intended doing nothing toward securing + that appropriation why did you accept the responsibility for it at the + meeting?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy looked up. Her tone reminded him of their first meeting, when + she had reproved him for going to sleep and leaving Bos'n to the mercy of + the Cahoon cow. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “afore this Thomas business happened, to knock all my + plans on their beam ends, I'd done consider'ble thinkin' about that + appropriation. It seemed to me that there must be some reason for Heman's + comin' about so sudden. He was sartin sure of the thirty thousand for a + spell; then, all to once, he begun to take in sail and go on t'other tack. + I don't know much about politics, but I know HE knows all the politics + there is. And it seemed to me that if a live man, one with eyes in his + head, went to Washington and looked around he might find the reason. And, + if he did find it, maybe Heman could be coaxed into changin' his mind + again. Anyhow, I was willin' to take the risk of tryin'; and, besides, Tad + and Abe Leonard had me on the griddle at that meetin', and I spoke up + sharp—too sharp, maybe.” + </p> + <p> + “But you still believe that you MIGHT help if you went to Washington?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I guess I do. Anyhow, I'd ask some pretty p'inted questions. You + see, I ain't lived here in Bayport all my life, and I don't swaller ALL + the bait Heman heaves overboard.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why don't you go?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Why don't I go? And leave Bos'n and—” + </p> + <p> + “Emily would be all right and perfectly safe. Georgianna thinks the world + of her. And, Captain Whittaker, I don't like to hear these people talk of + you as they do. I don't like to read such things in the paper, that you + were only bragging in order to be popular, and meant to shirk when the + time came for action. I know they're not true. I KNOW it!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was gratified, and his gratification showed in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Phoebe,” he said. “I am much obliged to you. But, you see, I + don't take any interest in such things any more. When I realize that + pretty soon I've got to give up that little girl for good I can't bear to + be away from her a minute hardly. I don't like to leave her here alone + with Georgianna and—” + </p> + <p> + “I will keep an eye on her. You trust me, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Trust YOU? By the big dipper, you're about the only one I CAN trust these + days. I don't know how I'd have pulled through this if you hadn't helped. + You're diff'rent from Ase and Bailey and their kind—not meanin' + anything against them, either. But you're broad-minded and cool-headed and—and—Do + you know, if I'd had a woman like you to advise me all these years and + keep me from goin' off the course, I might have been somebody by now.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you're somebody as it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't talk that way. I own up I like to hear you, but I'm 'fraid it ain't + true. You say I amount to somethin'. Well, what? I come back home here, + with some money in my pocket, thinkin' that was about all was necessary to + make me a good deal of a feller. The old Cy Whittaker place, I said to + myself, was goin' to be a real Cy Whittaker place again. And I'd be a real + Whittaker, a man who should stand for somethin', as my dad and granddad + did afore me. The town should respect me, and I'd do things to help it + along. And what's it all come to? Why, every young one on the street is + told to be good for fear he'll grow up like me. Ain't that so? Course it's + so! I'm—” + </p> + <p> + “You SHALL not speak so! Do you imagine that you're not respected by + everyone whose respect counts for anything? Yes, and by others, too. Don't + you suppose Mr. Atkins respects you, down in his heart—if he has + one? Doesn't your housekeeper, who sees you every day, respect and like + you? And little Emily—doesn't she love you more than she does all + the rest of us together?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess Bos'n does care for the old man some, that's a fact. She + says she likes you next best, though. Did you know that?” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Dawes was indignant. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Whittaker,” she declared, “one would think you were a hundred + years old to hear you. You are always calling yourself an old man. Does + Mr. Atkins call himself old? And he is older than you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm over fifty, Phoebe.” In spite of the habit for which he had + just been reproached, the captain found this a difficult statement to + make. + </p> + <p> + “I know. But you're younger than most of us at thirty-five. You see, I'm + confessing, too,” she added with a laugh and a little blush. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy made a mental calculation. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty years,” he said musingly. “Twenty years is a long time. No, I'm + old. And worse than that, I'm an old fool, I guess. If I hadn't been I'd + have stayed in South America instead of comin' here to be hooted out of + the town I was born in.” + </p> + <p> + The teacher stamped her foot. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what SHALL I do with you!” she exclaimed. “It is wicked for you to + say such things. Do you suppose that Mr. Atkins would find it necessary to + work as he is doing to beat a fool? And, besides, you're not complimentary + to me. Should I, do you think, take such an interest in one who was an + imbecile?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, 'tis mighty good of you. Your comin' here so to help Bos'n's fight + along is—” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know it is Bos'n altogether? I—” She stopped suddenly, + and the color rushed to her face. She rose from the rocker. “I—really, + I don't see how we came to be discussing such nonsense,” she said. “Our + ages and that sort of thing! Captain Cyrus, I wish you would go to + Washington. I think you ought to go.” + </p> + <p> + But the captain's thoughts were far from Washington at that moment. His + own face was alight, and his eyes shone. + </p> + <p> + “Phoebe,” he faltered unbelievingly, “what was you goin' to say? Do you + mean that—that—” + </p> + <p> + The side door of the house opened. The next instant Mr. Tidditt, a + dripping umbrella in his hand, entered the sitting room. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Whit!” he hailed. “Just run in for a minute to say howdy.” Then he + noticed the schoolmistress, and his expression changed. “Oh! how be you, + Miss Dawes?” he said. “I didn't see you fust off. Don't run away on my + account.” + </p> + <p> + “I was just going,” said Phoebe, buttoning her jacket. Captain Cy + accompanied her to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” she said. “There was something else I meant to say, but I think + it is best to wait. I hope to have some good news for you soon. Something + that will send you to Washington with a light heart. Perhaps I shall hear + to-morrow. If so, I will call after school and tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, do,” urged the captain eagerly. “You'll find me here waitin'. Good + news or not, do come. I—I ain't said all I wanted to, myself.” + </p> + <p> + He returned to the sitting room. The town clerk was standing by the stove. + He looked troubled. + </p> + <p> + “What's the row, Ase?” asked Cy cheerily. He was overflowing with good + nature. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin' special,” replied Mr. Tidditt. “You look joyful enough for + two of us. Had good company, ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes; 'bout as good as there is. What makes you look so glum?” + </p> + <p> + Asaph hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Phoebe was here yesterday, too, wan't she?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yup. What of it?” + </p> + <p> + “And the day afore that?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not for three days afore that. But what OF it, I ask you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, Cy, you mustn't get mad. I'm a friend of yours, and friends + ought to be able to say 'most anything to each other. If—if I was + you, I wouldn't let Phoebe come so often—not here, you know, at your + house. Course, I know she comes with Bos'n and all, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Out with it!” The captain's tone was ominous. “What are you drivin' at?” + </p> + <p> + The caller fidgeted. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Whit,” he stammered, “there's consider'ble talkin' goin' on, that's + all.” + </p> + <p> + “Talkin'? What kind of talkin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know the kind. This town does a good deal of it, 'specially + after church and prayer meetin'. Seem's if they thought 'twas a sort of + proper place. <i>I</i> don't myself; I kind of like to keep my charity and + brotherly love spread out through the week, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Ase, are the folks in this town sayin' a word against Phoebe Dawes + because she comes here to see—Bos'n?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't—don't get mad, Whit. Don't look at me like that. <i>I</i> + ain't said nothin'. Why, a spell ago, at the boardin' house, I—” + </p> + <p> + He told of the meal at the perfect boarding house where Miss Dawes + championed his friend's cause. Also of the conversation which followed, + and his own part in it. Captain Cy paced the floor. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't have her come so often, Cy,” pleaded Asaph. “Honest, I + wouldn't. Course, you and me know they're mean, miser'ble liars, but it's + her I'm thinkin' of. She's a young woman and single. And you're a good + many years older'n she is. And so, of course, you and she ain't ever goin' + to get married. And have you thought what effect it might have on her + keepin' her teacher's place? The committee's a majority against her as + 'tis. And—you know <i>I</i> don't think so, but a good many folks do—you + ain't got the best name just now. Darn it all! I ain't puttin' this the + way I'd ought to, but YOU know what I mean, don't you, Cy?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was leaning against the window frame, his head upon his arm. He + was not looking out, because the shade was drawn. Tidditt waited anxiously + for him to answer. At last he turned. + </p> + <p> + “Ase,” he said, “I'm much obliged to you. You've pounded it in pretty + hard, but I cal'late I'd ought to have had it done to me. I'm a fool—an + OLD fool, just as I said a while back—and nothin' nor NOBODY ought + to have made me forget it. For a minute or so I—but there! don't you + fret. That young woman shan't risk her job nor her reputation on account + of me—nor of Bos'n, either. I'll see to that. And see here,” he + added fiercely, “I can't stop women's tongues, even when they're as bad as + some of the tongues in this town, BUT if you hear a MAN say one word + against Phoebe Dawes, only one word, you tell me his name. You hear, Ase? + You tell me his name. Now run along, will you? I ain't safe company just + now.” + </p> + <p> + Asaph, frightened at the effect of his words, hurriedly departed. Captain + Cy paced the room for the next fifteen minutes. Then he opened the kitchen + door. + </p> + <p> + “Bos'n,” he called, “come in and set in my lap a while; don't you want to? + I'm—I'm sort of lonesome, little girl.” + </p> + <p> + The next afternoon, when the schoolmistress, who had been delayed by the + inevitable examination papers, stopped at the Cy Whittaker place, she was + met by Georgianna; Emily, who stood behind the housekeeper in the doorway, + was crying. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Cy has gone away—to Washin'ton,” declared Georgianna. “Though + what he's gone there for's more'n I know. He said he'd send his hotel + address soon's he got there. He went on the three o'clock train.” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe was astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Gone?” she repeated. “So soon! Why, he told me he should certainly be + here to hear some news I expected to-day. Didn't he leave any message for + me?” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper turned red. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Phoebe,” she said, “he told me to tell you somethin', and it's so + dreadful I don't hardly dast to say it. I think his troubles have driven + him crazy. He said to tell you that you'd better not come to this house + any more.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <h3> + CONGRESSMAN EVERDEAN + </h3> + <p> + In the old days, the great days of sailing ships and land merchant fleets, + Bayport was a community of travelers. Every ambitious man went to sea, and + eventually, if he lived, became a captain. Then he took his wife, and in + most cases his children, with him on long voyages. To the stay-at-homes + came letters with odd, foreign stamps and postmarks. Our what-nots and + parlor mantels were filled with carved bits of ivory, gorgeous shells, + alabaster candlesticks, and plaster miniatures of the Leaning Tower at + Pisa or the Coliseum at Rome. We usually began a conversation with “When + my husband and I were at Hong Kong the last time—” or “I remember at + Mauritius they always—” New Orleans or 'Frisco were the nearest + domestic ports the mention of which was considered worth while. + </p> + <p> + But this is so no longer. A trip to Boston is, of course, no novelty to + the most of us; but when we visit New York we take care to advertise it + beforehand. And the few who avail themselves of the spring “cut rates” and + go on excursions to Washington, plan definite programmes for each day at + the Capital, and discuss them with envious friends for weeks in advance. + And if the prearranged programme is not scrupulously carried out, we feel + that we have been defrauded. It was the regret of Aunt Sophronia Hallett's + life that, on her Washington excursion, she had not seen the “Diplomatic + Corpse.” She saw the President and the Monument and Congress and “the + relics in the Smithsonian Institute,” but the “Corpse” was not on view; + Aunt Sophronia never quite got over the disappointment. + </p> + <p> + Probably no other Bayporter, in recent years, has started for Washington + on such short notice or with so ill-defined a programme as Captain Cy. He + went because he felt that he must go somewhere. After the conversation + with Asaph, he simply could not remain at home. If Phoebe Dawes called, he + knew that he must see her, and if he saw her, what should he say to her? + He could not tell her that she must not visit the Cy Whittaker place + again. If he did, she would insist upon the reason. If he told her of the + “town talk,” he felt sure, knowing her, that she would indignantly refuse + to heed the malicious gossip. And he was firmly resolved not to permit her + to compromise her life and her future by friendship with a social outcast + like himself. As for anything deeper and more sacred than friendship, that + was ridiculous. If, for a moment, a remark of hers had led him to dream of + such a thing, it was because he was, as he had so often declared, an “old + fool.” + </p> + <p> + So Captain Cy had resolved upon flight, and he fled to Washington because + the business of the “committee of one” offered a legitimate excuse for + going there. The blunt message he had intrusted to Georgianna would, he + believed, arouse Phoebe's indignation. She would not call again. And when + he returned to Bos'n, it would be to take up the child's fight alone. If + he lost that fight, or WHEN he lost it, he would close the Cy Whittaker + place, and leave Bayport for good. + </p> + <p> + He had been in Washington once before, years ago, when he was first mate + of a ship and had a few weeks' shore leave. Then he went there on a + pleasure trip with some seagoing friends, and had a jolly time. But there + was precious little jollity in the present visit. He had never felt so + thoroughly miserable. In order to forget, he made up his mind to work his + hardest to discover why the harbor appropriation was not to be given to + Bayport. + </p> + <p> + The city had changed greatly. He would scarcely have known it. He went to + the hotel where he had stayed before, and found a big, modern building in + its place. The clerk was inclined to be rather curt and perfunctory at + first, but when he learned that the captain was not anxious concerning the + price of accommodations, but merely wanted a “comf'table berth somewheres + on the saloon deck,” and appeared to have plenty of money, he grew polite. + Captain Cy was shown to his room, where he left his valise. Then he went + down to dinner. + </p> + <p> + After the meal was over, he seated himself in one of the big leather + chairs in the hotel lobby, smoked and thought. In the summer, before Bos'n + came, and before her father had arisen to upset every calculation and + wreck all his plans, the captain had given serious thought to what he + should do if Congressman Atkins failed, as even then he seemed likely to + do, in securing that appropriation. The obvious thing, of course, would + have been to hunt up Mr. Atkins and question him. But this was altogether + too obvious. In the first place, the strained relations between them would + make the interview uncomfortable; and, in the second, if there was + anything underhand in Heman's backsliding on the appropriation, Atkins was + too wary a bird to be snared with questions. + </p> + <p> + But Captain Cy had another acquaintance in the city, the son of a still + older acquaintance, who had been a wealthy shipping merchant and mine + owner in California. The son was also a congressman, from a coast State, + and the captain had read of him in the papers. A sketch of his life had + been printed, and this made his identity absolutely certain. Captain Cy's + original idea had been to write to this congressman. Now he determined to + find and interview him. + </p> + <p> + He inquired concerning him of the hotel clerk, who, like all Washington + clerks, was a walking edition of “Who's Who at the Capital.” + </p> + <p> + “Congressman Everdean?” repeated the all-knowing young gentleman. “Yes. + He's in town. Has rooms at the Gloria; second hotel on the right as you go + up the avenue. Only a short walk. What can I do for you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + The Gloria was an even bigger hotel than the one where the captain had his + “berth.” An inquiry at the desk, of another important clerk, was answered + with a brisk: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Everdean? Yes, he rooms here. Don't know whether he's in or not. + Evening, judge. Nice Winter weather we're having.” + </p> + <p> + The judge, who was a ponderous person vaguely suggesting the great Heman, + admitted that the weather was fine, patronizing it as he did so. The clerk + continued the conversation. Captain Cy waited. At length he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, commodore,” he said; “I don't like to break in until you've + settled whether you have it snow or not, but I'm here to see Congressman + Everdean. Hadn't you better order one of your fo'mast hands to hunt him + up?” + </p> + <p> + The judge condescended to smile, as did several other men who stood near. + The clerk reddened. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to see Mr. Everdean?” he snapped. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, I did. But I can't see him from here without strainin' my + eyesight.” + </p> + <p> + The clerk sharply demanded one of the captain's visiting cards. He didn't + get one, for the very good reason that there was none in existence. + </p> + <p> + “Tell him an old friend of his dad's is here on the main deck waitin' for + him,” said Captain Cy. “That'll do first rate. Thank you, admiral.” + </p> + <p> + Word came that the congressman would be down in a few moments. The captain + beguiled the interval by leaning on the rail and regarding the clerk with + an awed curiosity that annoyed its object exceedingly. The inspection was + still on when a tall man, of an age somewhere in the early thirties, + walked briskly up to the desk. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it that wants to see me?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + The clerk waved a deprecatory hand in Captain Cy's direction. The newcomer + turned. + </p> + <p> + “My name is Everdean,” he said. “Are you—hey?—Great Scott! Is + it possible this is Captain Whittaker?” + </p> + <p> + The captain was immensely pleased. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I declare, Ed!” he exclaimed. “I didn't believe you'd remember me + after all these years. You was nothin' but a boy when I saw you out in + 'Frisco. Well! well! No wonder you're in Congress. A man that can remember + faces like that ought to be President.” + </p> + <p> + Everdean laughed as they shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “Don't suppose I'd forget the chap who used to dine with us and tell me + those sea stories, do you?” he said. “I'm mighty glad to see you. What are + you doing here? The last father and I heard of you, you were in South + America. Given up the sea, they said, and getting rich fast.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “It's a good thing I learned long ago not to believe all I hear,” he + answered, “else I'd have been so sure I was rich that I'd have spent all I + had, and been permanent boarder at the poorhouse by now. No, thanks; I've + had dinner. Why, yes, I'll smoke, if you'll help along. How's your father? + Smart, is he?” + </p> + <p> + The congressman insisted that they should adjourn to his rooms. An + unmarried man, he kept bachelor's hall at the hotel during his stay in + Washington. There, in comfortable chairs, they spoke of old times, when + the captain was seafaring and the Everdean home had been his while his + ship was in port at 'Frisco. He told of his return to Bayport, and the + renovation of the old house. Of Bos'n he said nothing. At last Everdean + asked what had brought him to Washington. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Captain Cy, “I'll tell you. I'm like the feller in court + without a lawyer; he said he couldn't tell whether he was guilty or not + 'count of havin' no professional advice. That's what I've come to you for, + Ed—professional advice.” + </p> + <p> + He told the harbor appropriation story. At the incident of the “committee + of one” his friend laughed heartily. + </p> + <p> + “Rather put your foot in it that time, Captain, didn't you?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yup. Then I got t'other one stuck tryin' to get the first clear. How's it + look to you? All straight, do you think? or is there a nigger in the wood + pile?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Everdean seemed to reflect. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Captain,” he said, “I can't tell. You're asking delicate questions. + Politicians are like doctors, they usually back up each other's opinions. + Still, you're at least as good a friend of mine as Atkins is. Queer HE + should bob up in this matter! Why, he—but never mind that now. I + tell you, Captain Whittaker, you come around and have dinner with me + to-morrow night. In the meantime I'll see the chairman of the committee on + that bill—one of the so-called 'pork' bills it is. Possibly from him + and some other acquaintances of mine I may learn something. At any rate, + you come to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + So the invitation was accepted, and Captain Cy went back to his own hotel + and his room. He slept but little, although it was not worry over the + appropriation question which kept him awake. Next morning he wrote a note + to Georgianna, giving his Washington address. With it he enclosed a long + letter to Bos'n, telling her he should be home pretty soon, and that she + must be a good girl and “boss the ship” during his absence. He sent his + regards to Asaph and Bailey, but Phoebe's name he did not mention. Then he + put in a miserable day wandering about the city. At eight that evening he + and his Western friend sat down at a corner table in the big dining room + of the Gloria. + </p> + <p> + The captain began to ask questions as soon as the soup was served, but + Everdean refused to answer. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he said, “pleasure first and business afterwards; that's a + congressional motto. I can't talk Atkins with my dinner and enjoy it.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't, hey? You wouldn't be popular at our perfect boarding house back + home. There they serve Heman hot for breakfast and dinner, and warm him + over for supper. All right, I can wait.” + </p> + <p> + The conversation wandered from Buenos Ayres to 'Frisco and back again + until the cigars and coffee were reached. Then the congressman blew a + fragrant ring into the air and, from behind it, looked quizzically at his + companion. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he observed, “so far as that appropriation of yours is concerned—” + </p> + <p> + He paused and blew a second ring. Captain Cy stroked his beard. + </p> + <p> + “Um—yes,” he drawled, “now that you mention it, seems to me there + was some talk of an appropriation.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Everdean laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I've been making inquiries,” he said. “I saw the chairman of the + committee on the pork bill. I know him well. He's a good fellow, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. I've seen lots of politicians like that; they're all good + fellers, but—If I was in politics I'd make a law to cut 'But' out of + the dictionary.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, this chap really is a good fellow. I asked about the thirty + thousand dollars for your town. He asked me why I didn't go to the + congressman from that district, and not bother him about it. I said + perhaps I would go to the congressman later, but I came to him first.” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin. Same as the feller with a sick mother-in-law stopped in at the + undertaker's on his way to call the doctor. All right; heave ahead.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we had a rather long conversation. I discovered that the Bayport + item was originally included in the bill, but recently had been stricken + out.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I see. Uncle Sam had to economize, hey? Save somethin' for a rainy + day.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, possibly. Still the bill is just as heavy. Now, Captain Whittaker, + I don't KNOW anything about this affair, and it's not my business. But + I've been about to-day, and I asked questions, and—I'm going to tell + you a fairy tale. It isn't as interesting as your sea yarns, but—Do + you like fairy stories?” + </p> + <p> + “Land, yes! Tell a few myself when it's necessary. Sometimes I almost + believe 'em. Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, you must remember this IS a fairy story. Let's suppose that + once on a time—that's the way they always begin—once on a time + there was a great man, great in his own country, who was sent abroad by + his people to represent them among the rulers of the land. So, in order to + typically represent them, he dressed in glad and expensive raiment, went + about in dignity, and—” + </p> + <p> + “And whiskers. Don't leave out the whiskers!” + </p> + <p> + “All right—and whiskers. And it came to pass that the people whom he + represented wished to—to—er—bring about a certain needed + improvement in their—their beautiful and enterprising community.” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! sho! how natural that sounds! You must be a mind reader.” + </p> + <p> + “No. But I have to make speeches in my own community occasionally. Well, + the people asked their great man to get the money needed for this + improvement from the rulers of the land aforementioned. And he was at + first all enthusiasm and upon the—the parchment scroll where such + matters are inscribed was written the name of the beautiful and + enterprising community, and the sum of money it asked for. And the deal + was as good as made. Excuse the modern phraseology; my fairy lingo got + mixed there.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. I can get the drift just as well—maybe better.” + </p> + <p> + “And the deal was as good as made. But before the vote was taken another + chap came to the great man and said: 'Look here! I want to get an + appropriation of, say, fifty thousand dollars, to deepen and improve a + river down in my State'—a Southern State we'll say. 'I've been to + the chairman of the pork bill committee, and he says it's impossible. The + bill simply can't be loaded any further. But I find that you have an item + in there for deepening and improving a harbor back in your own district. + Why don't you cut that item out—shove it over until next year? You + can easily find a satisfactory explanation for your constituents. AND you + want to remember this: the improvement of this river means that the—the—well, + a certain sugar-growing company—can get their stuff to market at a + figure which will send its stock up and up. And you are said to own a + considerable amount of that stock. So why not drop the harbor item and + substitute my river slice? Then—' Well, I guess that's the end of + the tale.” + </p> + <p> + He paused and relit his cigar. Captain Cy thoughtfully marked with his + fork on the tablecloth. + </p> + <p> + “Hum!” he grunted. “That's a very interestin' yarn. Yes, yes! don't know's + I ever heard a more interestin' one. I presume likely there ain't a mite + of proof that it's true?” + </p> + <p> + “Not an atom. I told you it was a fairy tale. And I mustn't be quoted in + the matter. Honestly, the most of it is guess work, at that. But perhaps a + 'committee of one,' dropping a hint at home, might at least arouse some + uncomfortable questioning of a certain great man. That's about all, + though. Proof is quite another thing.” + </p> + <p> + The captain pondered. He was fully aware that the unpopularity of the + “committee” would nullify whatever good its hinting might do. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he grunted again. “It's one thing to smell a rat and another to + nail its tail to the floor. But I'm mighty obliged to you, all the same. + And I'll think it over hard. Say! I can see one thing—you don't take + a very big shine to Heman yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Not too big—no. Do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't wake up nights and cry for him.” + </p> + <p> + Everdean laughed. + </p> + <p> + “That's characteristic,” he said. “You have your own way of putting + things, Captain, and it's hard to be improved on. Atkins has never done + anything to me. I just—I just don't like him, that's all. Father + never liked him, either, in the old days; and yet—and it's odd, too—he + was the means of the old gentleman's making the most of his money.” + </p> + <p> + “He? Who? Not Heman?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Heman Atkins. But, so far as that goes, father started him toward + wealth, I suppose. At least, he was poor enough before the mine was sold.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you talkin' about? Heman got his start tradin' over in the South + Seas. Sellin' the Kanakas glass beads and calico for pearls and copra—two + cupfuls of pearls for every bead. Anyhow, that's the way the yarn goes.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't help that. He was just a common sailor who had run away from his + ship and was gold mining in California. And when he and his partner struck + it rich father borrowed money, headed a company, and bought them out. That + mine was the Excelsior, and it's just as productive to-day as it ever was. + I rather think Atkins must be very sorry he sold. I suppose, by right, I + should be very grateful to your distinguished representative.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I do declare! Sho, sho! Ain't that funny now? He's never said a + word about it at home. I don't believe there's a soul in Bayport knows + that. We all thought 'twas South Sea tradin' that boosted Heman. And your + own dad! I declare, this is a small world!” + </p> + <p> + “It's odd father never told you about it. It's one of the old gentleman's + pet stories. He came West in 1850, and was running a little shipping store + in 'Frisco. He met Atkins and the other young sailor, his partner, before + they left their ship. They were in the store, buying various things, and + father got to know them pretty well. Then they ran away to the diggings—you + simply couldn't keep a crew in those times—and he didn't see them + again for a good while. Then they came in one day and showed him specimens + from a claim they had back in the mountains. They were mighty good + specimens, and what they said about the claim convinced father that they + had a valuable property. So he went to see a few well-to-do friends of + his, and the outcome was that a party was made up to go and inspect. The + young fellows were willing to sell out, for it was a quartz working and + they hadn't the money to carry it on. + </p> + <p> + “The inspection showed that the claim was likely to be even better than + they thought, so, after some bargaining, the deal was completed. They sold + out for seventy-five thousand dollars, and it was the best trade father + ever made. He's so proud of his judgment and foresight in making it that I + wonder he never told you the story.” + </p> + <p> + “He never did. When was this?” + </p> + <p> + “In '54. What?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't speak. The date seemed kind of familiar to me, that's all. + Seem's as if I heard it recent, but I can't remember when. Seventy-five + thousand, hey? Well, that wan't so bad, was it? With that for a nest egg, + no wonder Heman's managed to hatch a pretty respectable brood of dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the whole seventy-five wasn't his, of course. Half belonged to his + partner. But the poor devil didn't live to enjoy it. After the articles + were signed and before the money was paid over, he was taken sick with a + fever and died.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? He died? With a FEVER?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But he left a pretty good legacy to his heirs, didn't he. For a + common sailor—or second mate; I believe that's what he was—thirty-seven + thousand five hundred is doing well. It must have come as a big surprise + to them. The whole sum was paid to Atkins, who—What's the matter + with you?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was leaning back in his chair. He was as white as the + tablecloth. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ill?” asked the congressman anxiously. “Take some water. Shall I + call—” + </p> + <p> + The captain waved his hand. + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” he stammered. “No! I'm all right. Do you—for the Lord's + sake tell me this! What was the name of this partner that died?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Everdean looked curiously at his friend before he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Sure you're not sick?” he asked. “Well, all right. The partner's name? + Why, I've heard it often enough. It's on the deed of sale that father has + framed in his room at home. The old gentleman is as proud of that as + anything in the house. The name was—was—” + </p> + <p> + “For God sakes,” cried Captain Cy, “don't say 'twas John Thayer! 'Cause if + you do I shan't believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what it was—John Thayer. How did you guess? Did you know + him? I remember now that he was another Down Easter, like Atkins.” + </p> + <p> + The captain did not answer. He clasped his forehead with both hands and + leaned his elbows on the table. Everdean was plainly alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to call a doctor,” he began, rising. But Captain Cy waved him + back again. + </p> + <p> + “Set still!” he ordered. “Set still, I tell you! You say the whole + seventy-five thousand was paid to Heman, but that John Thayer signed the + bill of sale afore he died, as half partner? And your dad's got the + original deed and—and—he remembers the whole business?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he's got the deed—framed. It's on record, too, of course. + Remembers? I should say he did! He'll talk for a week on that subject, if + you give him a chance.” + </p> + <p> + The captain sprang to his feet. His chair tipped backward and fell to the + floor. An obsequious waiter ran to right it, but Captain Cy paid no + attention to him. + </p> + <p> + “Where's my coat?” he demanded. “Where's my coat and hat?” + </p> + <p> + “What ails you?” asked Everdean. “Are you going crazy?” + </p> + <p> + “Goin' CRAZY? No, no! I'm goin' to California. When's the next train?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <h3> + THE TOPPLING OF A MONUMENT + </h3> + <p> + The Honorable Heman Atkins sat in the library of his Washington home, + before a snapping log fire, reading a letter. Mr. Atkins had, as he would + have expressed it, “served his people” in Congress for so many years that + he had long since passed the hotel stage of living at the Capital. He + rented a furnished house on an eminently respectable street, and the + polished doorplate bore his name in uncompromising characters. + </p> + <p> + The library furniture was solid and dignified. Its businesslike appearance + impressed the stray excursionist from the Atkins district, when he or she + visited the great man in whose affairs we felt such a personal interest. + Particularly impressive and significant was a map of the district hanging + over the congressman's desk, and an oil painting of the Atkins mansion at + Bayport, which, with the iron dogs and urns conspicuous in its foreground, + occupied the middle of the largest wall space. + </p> + <p> + The cheery fire was very comforting on a night like this, for the sleet + was driving against the windowpanes, the sidewalks were ankle deep in + slush, and the wet, cold wind from the Potomac was whistling down the + street. Somewhere about the house an unfastened shutter slammed in the + gusts. Mr. Atkins should have been extremely comfortable as he sat there + by the fire. He had spent many comfortable winters in that room. But now + there was a frown on his face as he read the letter in his hand. It was + from Simpson, and stated, among other things, that Cyrus Whittaker had + been absent from Bayport for over two weeks, and that no one seemed to + know where he had gone. “The idea seems to be that he started for + Washington,” wrote Tad; “but if that is so, it is queer you haven't seen + him. I am suspicious that he is up to something about that harbor + business. I should keep my eye peeled if I was you.” + </p> + <p> + Alicia, the Atkins hopeful, rustled into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Papa,” she said, “I've come to kiss you good night.” + </p> + <p> + Her father performed the ceremony in a perfunctory way. + </p> + <p> + “All right, all right,” he said. “Now run along to bed and don't bother + me, there's a good girl. I wish,” he added testily to the housekeeper who + had followed Alicia into the room, “I wish you'd see to that loose blind. + It makes me nervous. Such things as that should be attended to without + specific orders from me.” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper promised to attend to the blind. She and the girl left the + library. Heman reread the Simpson letter. Then he dropped it in his lap + and sat thinking and twirling his eyeglasses at the end of their black + cord. His thoughts seemed to be not of the pleasantest. The lines about + his mouth had deepened during the last few months. He looked older. + </p> + <p> + The telephone bell rang sharply. Mr. Atkins came out of his reverie with a + start, arose and walked across the room to the wall where the instrument + hung. It was before the days of the convenient desk 'phone. He took the + receiver from its hook and spoke into the transmitter. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” he said. “Hello! Yes, yes! stop ringing. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + The wire buzzed and purred in the storm. “Hello!” said a voice. “Hello, + there! Is this Mr. Atkins's house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it is. What do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Is this where the Honorable Heman Atkins lives?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I tell you! This is Mr. Atkins speaking. What do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! is that you, Heman? This is Whittaker—Cy Whittaker. + Understand?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins understood. Yet for an instant he did not reply. He had been + thinking, as he sat by the fire, of certain persons and certain ugly, + though remote, possibilities. Now, from a mysterious somewhere, one of + those persons was speaking to him. The hand holding the receiver shook + momentarily. + </p> + <p> + “Hello! I say, Heman, do you understand? This is Whittaker talkin'.” + </p> + <p> + “I—er—understand,” said the congressman, slowly. “Well, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm here in Washin'ton.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been informed that you were in the city. Well, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! knew I was here, did you? Is that so? Who told you? Tad wrote, I + suppose, hey?” + </p> + <p> + The congressman did not reply immediately. This man, whom he disliked more + than anyone else in the world, had an irritating faculty of putting his + finger on the truth. And the flippancy in the tone was maddening. Mr. + Atkins was not used to flippancy. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I am not called upon to disclose my source of information,” he + said with chilling dignity. “It appears to have been trustworthy. I + presume you have 'phoned me concerning the appropriation matter. I do not + recognize your right to intrude in that affair, and I shall decline to + discuss it. Yes, sir. To my people, to those who have a right to question, + I am and shall always be willing to explain my position. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait! Hello! Hold on a minute. Don't get mad, Heman. I only wanted to say + just a word. You'll let me say a word, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + This was more like it. This was more nearly the tone in which Mr. Atkins + was wont to be addressed. It was possible that the man, recognizing the + uselessness of further opposition, desired to surrender. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot,” declared the Honorable, “understand why you should wish to + speak with me. We have very little in common, very little, I'm thankful to + say. However, I will hear you briefly. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Much obliged. Well, Heman, I only wanted to say that I thought maybe + you'd better have a little talk with me. I'm here at the hotel, the + Regent. You know where 'tis, I presume likely. I guess you'd better come + right down and see me.” + </p> + <p> + Heman gasped, actually gasped, with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> had better come and see YOU? I—! Well, sir! WELL! I am not + accustomed—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but I think you'd better. It's dirty weather, and I've got cold + somehow or other. I ain't feelin' quite up to the mark, so I cal'late I'll + stay in port much as I can. You come right down. I'll be in my room, and + the hotel folks 'll tell you where 'tis. I'll be waitin' for you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins breathed hard. In his present frame of mind he would have liked + to deliver a blast into that transmitter which would cause the person at + the other end of the line to shrivel under its heat. But he was a + politician of long training, and he knew that such blasts were sometimes + expensive treats. It might be well to hear what his enemy had to say. But + as to going to see him—that was out of the question. + </p> + <p> + “I do not,” he thundered, “I do not care to continue this conversation. If—if + you wish to see me, after what has taken place between us, I am willing, + in spite of personal repugnance, to grant you a brief interview. My + servants will admit you here at nine o'clock to-morrow morning. But I tell + you now, that your interference with this appropriation matter is as + useless as it is ridiculous and impudent. It is of a piece with the rest + of your conduct.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Heman, all right,” was the calm answer. “I don't say you've + got to come. I only say I guess you'd better. I'm goin' back to Bayport + tomorrer, early. And if I was you I'd come and see me to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no wish to see you. Nor do I care to talk with you further. That + appropriation—” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe it ain't all appropriation.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I cannot understand—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but <i>I</i> understand. I've come to understand consider'ble + many things in the last fortni't. There! I can't holler into this machine + any longer. I've been clear out to 'Frisco and back in eleven days, and I + got cold in those blessed sleepin' cars. I—” + </p> + <p> + The receiver fell from the congressman's hand. It was a difficult object + to pick up again. Heman groped for it in a blind, strangely inadequate + way. Yet he wished to recover it very much. + </p> + <p> + “Wait! wait!” he shouted anxiously. “I—I—I dropped the—Are + you there, Whittaker? Are you—Oh! yes! I didn't—Did you say—er—'Frisco?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, San Francisco, California. I've been West on a little cruise. Had an + interestin' time. It's an interestin' place; don't you think so? Well, I'm + sorry you can't come. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” faltered the great man. “I—I—let me think, Cyrus. I do + not wish to seem—er—arrogant in this matter. It is not usual + for me to visit my constituents, but—but—I have no engagement + this evening, and you are not well, and—Hello! are you there? Hello! + Why, under the circumstances, I think—Yes, I will come. I'll come—er—at + once.” + </p> + <p> + The telephone enables one to procure a cab in a short time. Yet, to Heman + Atkins, that cab was years in coming. He paced the library floor, his hand + to his forehead and his brain whirling. It couldn't be! It must be a + coincidence! He had been an idiot to display his agitation and surrender + so weakly. And yet—and yet— + </p> + <p> + The ride through the storm to the Regent Hotel gave him opportunity for + more thought. But he gained little comfort from thinking. If it was a + coincidence, well and good. If not— + </p> + <p> + A bell boy conducted him to the Whittaker room “on the saloon deck.” It + was a small room, very different from the Atkins library, and Captain Cy, + in a cane-seated chair, was huddled close to the steam radiator. He looked + far from well. + </p> + <p> + “Evenin', Heman,” he said as the congressman entered. “Pretty dirty night, + ain't it? What we'd call a gray no'theaster back home. Sit down. Don't + mind my not gettin' up. This heatin' arrangement feels mighty comf'table + just now. If I get too far away from it I shiver my deck planks loose. + Take off your things.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins did not remove his overcoat. His hat he tossed on the bed. He + glanced fearfully at his companion. The latter's greeting had been so + casual and everyday that he took courage. And the captain looked anything + but formidable as he hugged the radiator. Perhaps things were not so bad + as he had feared. He resolved not to seem alarmed, at all events. + </p> + <p> + “Have a cigar, Heman?” said Captain Cy. “No? Well, all right; I will, if + you don't mind.” + </p> + <p> + He lit the cigar. The congressman cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + “Cyrus,” he said, “I am not accustomed to run at the beck and call of my—er—acquaintances, + but, even though we have disagreed of late, even though to me your conduct + seems quite unjustifiable, still, for the sake of our boyhood friendship, + and, because you are not well, I—er—came.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy coughed spasmodically, a cough that seemed to be tearing him to + pieces. He looked at his cigar regretfully, and laid it on the top of the + radiator. + </p> + <p> + “Too bad,” he observed. “Tobacco gen'rally iles up my talkin' machinery, + but just now it seems to make me bark like a ship's dog shut up in the + hold. Why, yes, Heman, I see you've come. Much obliged to you.” + </p> + <p> + This politeness was still more encouraging. Atkins leaned back in his + chair and crossed his legs. + </p> + <p> + “I presume,” he said, “that you wish to ask concerning the appropriation. + I regret—” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't. I guess we'll get the appropriation.” + </p> + <p> + Heman's condescension vanished. He leaned forward and uncrossed his legs. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” he said slowly, his eyes fixed on the captain's placid face. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Whittaker, what are you talking about? Do you suppose that I have been + the representative of my people in Congress all these years without + knowing whereof I speak? They left the matter in my hands, and your + interference—” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't goin' to interfere. I'M goin' to leave it in your hands, too. And + I cal'late you'll be able to find a way to get it. Um—hum, I guess + likely you will.” + </p> + <p> + The visitor rose to his feet. The time had come for another blast from + Olympus. He raised the mighty right arm. But Captain Cy spoke first. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Heman,” said the captain quietly. “Sit down. This ain't town + meetin'. Never mind the appropriation now. There's other matters to be + talked about first. Sit down, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins was purple in the face, but he sat down. The captain coughed + again. + </p> + <p> + “Heman,” he began when the spasm was over, “I asked you to come here + to-night for—well, blessed if I know exactly. It didn't make much + difference to me whether you came or not.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir, I must say that, of all the impudent—” + </p> + <p> + “S-s-h-h! for the land sakes! Speechmakin' must be as bad as the rum + habit, when a feller's got it chronic as you have. No, it didn't make much + difference to me whether you came or not. But, honest, you've got to be a + kind of Bunker Hill monument to the folks back home. They kneel down at + your foundations and look up at you, and tell each other how many foot + high you are, and what it cost to build you, and how you stand for + patriotism and purity, till—well, <i>I</i> couldn't see you tumble + down without givin' you a chance. I couldn't; 'twould be like blowin' up a + church.” + </p> + <p> + The purple had left the Atkins face, but the speechmaking habit is not + likely to be broken. + </p> + <p> + “Cyrus Whittaker,” he stammered, “have you been drinking? Your language to + me is abominable. Why I permit myself to remain here and listen to such—” + </p> + <p> + “If you'll keep still I'll tell you why. And, if I was you, I wouldn't be + too anxious to find out. This everlastin' cold don't make me over 'n' + above good-tempered, and when I think of what you've done to that little + girl, or what you tried to do, I have to hold myself down tight, TIGHT, + and don't you forget it! Now, you keep quiet and listen. It'll be best for + you, Heman. Your cards ain't under the table any longer. I've seen your + hand, and I know why you've been playin' it. I know the whole game. I've + been West, and Everdean and I have had a talk.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins had again risen from the chair. Now he fell heavily back into + it. His lips moved as if he meant to speak, but he did not. At the mention + of the Everdean name he made a queer, choking sound in his throat. + </p> + <p> + “I know the whole business, Heman,” went on the captain. “I know why you + was so knocked over when you learned who Bos'n was, the night of the + party. I know why you took up with that blackguard, Thomas, and why you've + spent your good money hirin' lawyers for him. I know about the mine. I + know the whole thing from first to last. Shall I tell you? Do you want to + hear it?” + </p> + <p> + The great man did not answer. A drop of perspiration shone on his high + forehead, and the veins of his big, white hands stood out as he clutched + the arms of his chair. The monument was tottering on its base. + </p> + <p> + “It's a dirty mess, the whole of it,” continued Captain Cy. “And yet, I + can see—I suppose I can see some excuse for you at the beginnin'. + When old man Everdean and his crowd bought you and John Thayer out, 'way + back there in '54, after John died, and all the money was put into your + hands, I cal'late you was honest then. I wouldn't wonder if you MEANT to + hand over the thirty-seven thousand five hundred dollars to your partner's + widow. But 'twas harder and more risky to send money East in them days + than 'tis now, and so you waited, thinkin' maybe that you'd fetch it to + Emily when you come yourself. But you didn't come home for some years; you + went tradin' down along the Feejees and around that way. That's how I + reasoned it out these last few days on the train. I give you credit for + bein' honest first along. + </p> + <p> + “But never mind whether you was or not, you haven't been since. You never + paid over a cent of that poor feller's money—honest money, that + belonged to his heirs, and belongs to 'em now. You've hung onto it, stole + it, used it for yours. And Emily worked and scratched for a livin' and + died poor. And Mary, she died, after bein' abused and deserted by that + cussed husband of hers. And you thought you was safe, I cal'late. And then + Bos'n turns up right in your own town, right acrost the road from you! By + the big dipper! it's enough to make a feller believe that the Almighty + does take a hand in straightenin' out such things, when us humans bungle + 'em—it is so! + </p> + <p> + “Course I ain't sure, Heman, what you meant to do when you found that the + child you'd stole that money from was goin' to be under your face and eyes + till you or she died. I cal'late you was afraid I'd find somethin' out, + wan't you? I presume likely you thought that I, not havin' quite the + reverence for you that the rest of the Bayporters have, might be sharp + enough or lucky enough to smell a rat. Perhaps you suspicioned that I knew + the Everdeans. Anyhow, you wanted to get the child as fur out of your + sight and out of my hands as you could—ain't that so? And when her + dad turned up, you thought you saw your chance. Heman, you answer me this: + Ain't it part of your bargain with Thomas that when he gets his little + girl, he shall take her and clear out, away off somewheres, for good? + Ain't it, now—what?” + </p> + <p> + The monument was swaying, was swinging from side to side, but it did not + quite fall—not then. The congressman's cheeks hung flabby, his + forehead was wet, and he shook from head to foot; but he clenched his jaws + and made one last attempt at defiance. + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't know what you mean,” he declared. “You—you seem to + be accusing me of something. Of stealing, I believe. Do you understand who + I am? I have some influence and reputation, and it is dangerous to—to + try to frighten me. Proofs are required in law, and—” + </p> + <p> + “S-s-h-h! You know I've got the proofs. They were easy enough to get, once + I happened on the track of 'em. Lord sakes, Heman, I ain't a fool! What's + the use of your pretendin' to be one? There's the deed out in 'Frisco, + with yours and John's name on it. There's the records to prove the sale. + There's the receipt for the seventy-five thousand signed by you, on behalf + of yourself and your partner's widow. There's old man Everdean alive and + competent to testify. There's John Thayer's will on file over to Orham. + Proofs! Why, you THIEF! if it's proofs you want, I've got enough to send + you to state's prison for the rest of your life. Don't you dare say + 'proofs' to me again! Heman Atkins, you owe me, as Bos'n's guardian, + thirty-seven thousand five hundred dollars, with interest since 1854. What + you goin' to do about it?” + </p> + <p> + Here was one ray, a feeble ray, of light. + </p> + <p> + “You're not her guardian,” cried Atkins. “The courts have thrown you out. + And your appeal won't stand, either. If any money is due, it belongs to + her father. She isn't of age! No, sir! her father—” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy's patience had been giving way. Now he lost it altogether. He + strode across the room and shook his forefinger in his victim's face. + </p> + <p> + “So!” he cried. “That's your tack, is it? By the big dipper! You GO to her + father—just you go to him and tell him! Just hint to him that you + owe his daughter thirty-odd thousand dollars, and see what he'll do. Good + heavens above! he was ready to sell her out to me for fifty dollars' wuth + of sand bank in Orham. Almost ready, he was, till you offered a higher + price to him to fight. Why, he'll have your hide nailed up on the barn + door! If you don't pay him every red copper, down on the nail, he'll wring + you dry. And then he'll blackmail you forever and ever, amen! Unless, of + course, <i>I</i> go home and stop the blackmail by printing my story in + the Breeze. I've a precious good mind to do it. By the Almighty, I WILL do + it! unless you come off that high horse of yours and talk like a man.” + </p> + <p> + And then the monument fell, fell prostrate, with a sickly, pitiful crash. + If we of Bayport could have seen our congressman then! The great man, + great no longer, broke down completely. He cried like a baby. It was all + true—all true. He had not meant to steal, at first. He had been led + into using the money in his business. Then he had meant to send it to the + heirs, but he didn't know their whereabouts. Captain Cy smiled at this + excuse. And now he couldn't pay—he COULDN'T. He had hardly that sum + in the world. He had lost money in stocks, his property in the South had + gone to the bad! He would be ruined. He would have to go to prison. He was + getting to be an old man. And there was Alicia, his daughter! Think of + her! Think of the disgrace! And so on, over and over, with the one + recurring burden—what was the captain going to do? what was he going + to do? It was a miserable, dreadful exhibition, and Captain Cy could feel + no pride in his triumph. + </p> + <p> + “There! there!” he said at last. “Stop it, man; stop it, for goodness + sakes! Pull yourself together. I guess we can fix it up somehow. I ain't + goin' to be too hard on you. If it wan't for your meanness in bein' + willin' to let Bos'n suffer her life long with that drunken beast of a dad + of hers, I'd feel almost like tellin' you to get up and forget it. But + THAT'S got to be stopped. Now, you listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + Heman listened. He was on his knees beside the bed, his face buried in his + arms, and his gray hair, the leonine Atkins hair, which he was wont to + toss backward in the heated periods of his eloquence, tumbled and + draggled. Captain Cy looked down at him. + </p> + <p> + “This whole business about Bos'n must be stopped,” he said, “and stopped + right off. You tell your lawyers to drop the case. Her dad is only hangin' + around because you pay him to. He don't want her; he don't care what + becomes of her. If you pay him enough, he'll go, won't he? and not come + back?” + </p> + <p> + The congressman raised his head. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” he faltered; “I think he will. Yes, I think I could arrange + that. But, Cyrus—” + </p> + <p> + The captain held up his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I intend to look out for Bos'n,” he said. “She cares for me more'n anyone + else in the world. She's as much to me as my own child ever could be, and + I'll see that she is happy and provided for. I'm religious enough to + believe she was sent to me, and I intend to stick to my trust. As for the + money—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes! The money?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I won't be too hard on you that way, either. We'll talk that over + later on. Maybe we can arrange for you to pay it a little at a time. You + can sign a paper showin' that you owe it, and we'll fix the payin' to suit + all hands. 'Tain't as if the child was in want. I've got some money of my + own, and what's mine's hers. I think we needn't worry about the money + part.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless you, Cyrus! I—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, all right. I'm sure your askin' for the blessin' 'll be a great + help. Now, you do your part, and I'll do mine. No one knows of this + business but me. I didn't tell Everdean a word. He don't know why I + hustled out there and back, nor why I asked so many questions. And he + ain't the kind to pry into what don't concern him. So you're pretty safe, + I cal'late. Now, if you don't mind, I wish you'd run along home. I'm—I'm + used up, sort of.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins arose from his knees. Even then, broken as he was—he + looked ten years older than when he entered the room—he could hardly + believe what he had just heard. + </p> + <p> + “You mean,” he faltered, “Cyrus, do you mean that—that you're not + going to reveal this—this—” + </p> + <p> + “That I'm not goin' to tell on you? Yup; that's what I mean. You get rid + of Thomas and squelch that law case, and I'll keep mum. You can trust me + for that.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but, Cyrus, the people at home? Your story in the Breeze? + You're not—” + </p> + <p> + “No, they needn't know, either. It'll be between you and me.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless you! I'll never forget—” + </p> + <p> + “That's right. You mustn't. Forgettin' is the one thing you mustn't do. + And, see here, you're boss of the political fleet in Bayport; you steer + the school committee now. Phoebe Dawes ain't too popular with that + committee; I'd see that she was popularized.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; she shall be. She shall not be disturbed. Is there anything + else I can do?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, I guess there is. Speakin' of popularity made me think of it. + That harbor appropriation had better go through.” + </p> + <p> + A very faint tinge of color came into the congressman's chalky face. He + hesitated in his reply. + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't know about that, Cyrus,” he said. “The bill will probably + be voted on in a few days. It is made up and—” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'd strain a p'int and make it over. I'd work real hard on it. I'm + sorry about that sugar river, but I cal'late Bayport 'll have to come + first. Yes, it'll have to, Heman; it sartin will.” + </p> + <p> + The reference to the “sugar river” was the final straw. Evidently this man + knew everything. + </p> + <p> + “I—I'll try my best,” affirmed Heman. “Thank you, Cyrus. You have + been more merciful than I had a right to expect.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I guess I have. Why do I do it?” He smiled and shook his head. + “Well, I don't know. For two reasons, maybe. First, I'd hate to be + responsible for tippin' over such a sky-towerin' idol as you've been to + make ruins for Angie Phinney and the other blackbirds to peck at and caw + over. And second—well, it does sound presumin', don't it, but I kind + of pity you. Say, Heman,” he added with a chuckle, “that's a kind of + distinction, in a way, ain't it? A good many folks have hurrahed over you + and worshipped you—some of 'em, I guess likely, have envied you; + but, by the big dipper! I do believe I'm the only one in this round world + that ever PITIED you. Good-by. The elevator's right down the hall.” + </p> + <p> + It required some resolution for the Honorable Atkins to walk down that + corridor and press the elevator button. But he did it, somehow. A guest + came out of one of the rooms and approached him as he stood there. It was + a man he knew. Heman squared his shoulders and set every nerve and muscle. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Mr. Atkins,” said the man. “A miserable night, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Miserable, indeed,” replied the congressman. The strength in his voice + surprised him. The man passed on. Heman descended in the elevator, walked + steadily through the crowded lobby and out to the curb where his cab was + waiting. The driver noticed nothing strange in his fare's appearance. He + noticed nothing strange when the Atkins residence was reached and its + tenant mounted the stone steps and opened the door with his latchkey. But, + if he had seen the dignified form collapse in a library chair and moan and + rock back and forth until the morning hours, he would have wondered very + much indeed. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Captain Cy, coughing and shivering by the radiator, had been + summoned from that warm haven by a knock at his door. A bell boy stood at + the threshold, holding a brown envelope in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “The clerk sent this up to you, sir,” he said. “It came a week ago. When + you went away, you didn't leave any address, and whatever letters came for + you were sent back to Bayport, Massachusetts. The clerk says you + registered from there, sir. But he kept this telegram. It was in your box, + and the day clerk forgot to give it to you this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + The captain tore open the envelope. The telegram was from his lawyer, Mr. + Peabody. It was dated a week before, and read as follows: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Come home at once. Important.” + </pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <h3> + DIVIDED HONORS + </h3> + <p> + The blizzard began that night. Bayport has a generous allowance of storms + and gales during a winter, although, as a usual thing, there is more rain + than snow and more wind than either. But we can count with certainty on at + least one blizzard between November and April, and about the time when + Captain Cy, feverish and ill, the delayed telegram in his pocket and a + great fear in his heart, boarded the sleeper of the East-bound train at + Washington, snow was beginning to fall in our village. + </p> + <p> + Next morning, when Georgianna came downstairs to prepare Bos'n's breakfast—the + housekeeper had ceased to “go home nights” since the captain's absence—the + world outside was a tumbled, driving whirl of white. The woodshed and + barn, dimly seen through the smother, were but gray shapes, emerging now + and then only to be wiped from the vision as by a great flapping cloth + wielded by the mighty hand of the wind. The old house shook in the blasts, + the windowpanes rattled as if handfuls of small shot were being thrown + against them, and the carpet on the floor of the dining room puffed up in + miniature billows. + </p> + <p> + School was out of the question, and Bos'n, her breakfast eaten, prepared + to put in a cozy day with her dolls and Christmas playthings. + </p> + <p> + “When DO you s'pose Uncle Cyrus will get home?” she asked of the + housekeeper. She had asked the same thing at least three times a day + during the fortnight, and Georgianna's answer was always just as + unsatisfactory: + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, dearie, I'm sure. He'll be here pretty soon, though, don't + you fret.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I ain't going to fret. I know he'll come. He said he would, and Uncle + Cy always does what he says he will.” + </p> + <p> + About twelve Asaph made his appearance, a white statue. + </p> + <p> + “Godfrey scissors!” he panted, shaking his snow-plastered cap over the + coal hod. “Say, this is one of 'em, ain't it? Don't know's I ever see more + of a one. Drift out by the front fence pretty nigh up to my waist. This + 'll be a nasty night along the Orham beach. The lifesavers 'll have their + hands full. Whew! I'm about tuckered out.” + </p> + <p> + “Been to the post office?” asked Georgianna in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “Yup. I been there. Mornin' mail just this minute sorted. Train's two + hours late. Gabe says more'n likely the evenin' train won't be able to get + through at all, if this keeps up.” + </p> + <p> + “Was there anything from—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tidditt glanced at Bos'n and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Not a word,” he said. “Funny, ain't it? It don't seem a bit like him. And + he can't be to Washin'ton, because all them letters came back. I—I + swan to man, I'm beginnin' to get worried.” + </p> + <p> + “Worried? I'm pretty nigh crazy! What does Phoebe Dawes say?” + </p> + <p> + “She don't say much. It's pretty tough, when everything else is workin' + out so fine, thanks to her, to have this happen. No, she don't say much, + but she acts pretty solemn.” + </p> + <p> + “Say, Mr. Tidditt?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “You don't s'pose anything that happened betwixt her and Cap'n Whittaker + that afternoon is responsible for—for his stayin' away so, do you? + You know what he told me to tell her—about her not comin' here?” + </p> + <p> + Asaph fidgeted with the wet cap. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, that ain't nothin',” he stammered. “That is, I hope it ain't. I did + say somethin' to him that—but Phoebe understands. She's a smart + woman.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven't told them boardin' house tattletales about the—Emmie, + you go fetch me a card of matches from the kitchen, won't you—of + what's been found out about that Thomas thing?” + </p> + <p> + “Course I ain't. Didn't Peabody say not to tell a soul till we was sure? + S'pose I'd tell Keturah and Angie? Might's well paint it on a sign and be + done with it. No, no! I've kept mum and you do the same. Well, I must be + goin'. Hope to goodness we hear some good news from Whit by to-morrer.” + </p> + <p> + But when to-morrow came news of any kind was unobtainable. No trains could + get through, and the telephone and telegraph wires were out of commission, + owing to the great storm. Bayport was buried under a white coverlet, three + feet thick on a level, which shone in the winter sun as if powdered with + diamond dust. The street-shoveling brigade, meaning most of the active + male citizens, was busy with plows and shovels. Simmons's was deserted in + the evenings, for most of the regular habitues went to bed after supper, + tired out. + </p> + <p> + Two days of this. Then Gabe Lumley, his depot wagon replaced by a sleigh, + drove the panting Daniel into the yard of the Cy Whittaker place. Gabe was + much excited. He had news of importance to communicate and was puffed up + in consequence. + </p> + <p> + “The wire's all right again, Georgianna,” he said to the housekeeper, who + had hurried to the door to meet him. “Fust message just come through. + Guess who it's for?” + </p> + <p> + “Stop your foolishness, Gabe Lumley!” ordered Miss Taylor. “Hand over that + telegram this minute. Don't you stop to talk! Hand it over!” + </p> + <p> + Gabe didn't intend to be “corked” thus peremptorily. + </p> + <p> + “It's pretty important news, Georgianna,” he declared. “Kind of bad news, + too. I think I'd ought to prepare you for it, sort of. When Cap'n Obed + Pepper died, I—” + </p> + <p> + “DIED! For the land sakes! WHAT are you sayin'? Give me that, you + foolhead! Give it to me!” + </p> + <p> + She snatched the telegram from him and tore it open. It was not as bad as + might have been, but it was bad enough. Lawyer Peabody wired that Captain + Cyrus Whittaker was at his home in Ostable, sick in bed, and threatened + with pneumonia. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy, hurrying homeward in response to the attorney's former + telegram, had reached Boston the day of the blizzard. He had taken the + train for Bayport that afternoon. The train had reached Ostable after nine + o'clock that night, but could get no farther. The captain, burning with + fever and torn by chills, had wallowed through the drifts to his lawyer's + home and collapsed on his doorstep. Now he was very ill and, at times, + delirious. + </p> + <p> + For two weeks he lay, fighting off the threatened attack of pneumonia. But + he won the fight, and, at last, word came to the anxious ones at Bayport + that he was past the danger point and would pull through. There was + rejoicing at the Cy Whittaker place. The Board of Strategy came and + performed an impromptu war dance around the dining-room table. + </p> + <p> + “Whe-e-e!” shouted Bailey Bangs, tossing Bos'n above his head. “Your Uncle + Cy's weathered the Horn and is bound for clear water now. Three cheers for + our side! Won't we give him a reception when we get him back here!” + </p> + <p> + “Won't we?” crowed Asaph. “Well, I just guess we will! You ought to hear + Angie and the rest of 'em chant hymns of glory about him. A body'd think + they always knew he was the salt of the earth. Maybe I don't rub it in a + little, hey? Oh, no, maybe not!” + </p> + <p> + “And Heman!” chimed in Mr. Bangs. “And Heman! Would you ever believe HE'D + change so all of a sudden? Bully old Whit! I can mention his name now + without Ketury's landin' onto me like a snowslide. Whee! I say, wh-e-e-e!” + </p> + <p> + He continued to say it; and Georgianna and Asaph said what amounted to the + same thing. A change had come over our Bayport social atmosphere, a + marvelous change. And at Simmons's and—more wonderful still—at + Tad Simpson's barber' shop, plans were being made and perfected for + proceedings in which Cyrus Whittaker was to play the most prominent part. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the convalescence went on at a rapid rate. As soon as he was + permitted to talk, Captain Cy began to question his lawyer. How about the + appeal? Had Atkins done anything further? The answers were satisfactory. + The case had been dropped: the Honorable Heman had announced its + withdrawal. He had said that he had changed his mind and should not + continue to espouse the Thomas cause. In fact, he seemed to have whirled + completely about on his pedestal and, like a compass, now pointed only in + one direction—toward his “boyhood friend” and present neighbor, + Cyrus Whittaker. + </p> + <p> + “It's perfectly astounding,” commented Peabody. “What in the world, + captain, did you do to him while you were in Washington?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! nothin' much,” was the rather disinterested answer. “Him and me had a + talk, and he saw the error of his ways, I cal'late. How's Bos'n to-day? + Did you give her my love when you 'phoned?” + </p> + <p> + “So far as the case is concerned,” went on the lawyer, “I think we should + have won that, anyway. It's a curious thing. Thomas has disappeared. How + he got word, or who he got it from, <i>I</i> don't know; but he must have, + and he's gone somewhere, no one knows where. And yet I'm not certain that + we were on the right trail. It seemed certain a week ago, but now—” + </p> + <p> + The captain had not been listening. He was thinking. Thomas had gone, had + he! Good! Heman was living up to his promises. And Bos'n, God bless her, + was free from that danger. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard from Emmie, I asked you?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + He would not listen to anything further concerning Thomas, either then or + later. He was sick of the whole business, he declared, and now that + everything was all right, didn't wish to talk about it again. He asked + nothing about the appropriation, and the lawyer, acting under strict + orders, did not mention it. + </p> + <p> + Only once did Captain Cy inquire concerning a person in his home town who + was not a member of his household. + </p> + <p> + “How is—er—how's the teacher?” he inquired one morning. + </p> + <p> + “How's who?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—Phoebe Dawes, the school-teacher. Smart, is she?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed! Why, she has been the most—” + </p> + <p> + The doctor came in just then and the interview terminated. It was not + resumed, because that afternoon Mr. Peabody started for Boston on a + business trip, to be gone some time. + </p> + <p> + And at last came the great day, the day when Captain Cy was to be taken + home. He was up and about, had been out for several short walks, and was + very nearly his own self again. He was in good spirits, too, at times, but + had fits of seeming depression which, under the circumstances, were + unexplainable. The doctor thought they were due to his recent illness and + forbade questioning. + </p> + <p> + The original plan had been for the captain to go to Bayport in the train, + but the morning set for his departure was such a beautiful one that Mr. + Peabody, who had the day before returned from the city, suggested driving + over. So the open carriage, drawn by the Peabody “span,” was brought + around to the front steps, and the captain, bundled up until, as he said, + he felt like a wharf rat inside a cotton bale, emerged from the house + which had sheltered him for a weary month and climbed to the back seat. + The attorney got in beside him. + </p> + <p> + “All ashore that's goin' ashore,” observed Captain Cy. Then to the driver, + who stood by the horses' heads, he added: “Stand by to get ship under way, + commodore. I'm homeward bound, and there's a little messmate of mine + waitin' on the dock already, I wouldn't wonder. So don't hang around these + waters no longer'n you can help.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Peabody smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute, captain,” he said. “We've got another passenger. She came + to the house last evening, but Dr. Cole thought this would be an exciting + day for you, and you must sleep in preparation for it. So we kept her in + the background. It was something of a job but—Hurrah! here she is!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peabody, the lawyer's wife, opened the front door. She was laughing. + The next moment a small figure shot past her, down the steps, and into the + carriage like a red-hooded bombshell. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Cyrus!” she screamed joyously. “Uncle Cyrus, it's me! Here I am!” + </p> + <p> + And Captain Cy, springing up and shedding wraps and robes, received the + bombshell with open arms and hugged it tight. + </p> + <p> + “Bos'n!” he shouted. “By the big dipper! BOS'N! Why, you little—you—you—” + </p> + <p> + That was a wonderful ride. Emily sat in the captain's lap—he + positively refused to let her sit beside him on the seat, although Peabody + urged it, fearing the child might tire him—and her tongue rattled + like a sewing machine. She had a thousand things to tell, about her + school, about Georgianna, about her dolls, about Lonesome, the cat, and + how many mice he had caught, about the big snowstorm. + </p> + <p> + “Georgianna wanted me to stay at home and wait for you, Uncle Cy,” she + said, “but I teased and teased and finally they said I could come over. I + came yesterday on the train. Mr. Tidditt went with me to the depot. Mrs. + Peabody let me peek into your room last night and I saw you eating supper. + You didn't know I was there, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “You bet I didn't! There'd have been a mutiny right then if I'd caught + sight of you. You little sculpin! Playin' it on your Uncle Cy, was you? I + didn't know you could keep a secret so well.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes I can! Why, I know an ever so much bigger secret, too. It is—Why! + I 'most forgot. You just wait.” + </p> + <p> + The captain laughingly begged her to divulge the big secret, but she shook + her small head and refused. The horses trotted on at a lively pace, and + the miles separating Ostable and Bayport were subtracted one by one. It + was magnificent winter weather. The snow had disappeared from the road, + except in widely separated spots, but the big drifts still heaped the + fields and shone and sparkled in the sunshine. Against their whiteness the + pitch pines and cedars stood darkly green and the skeleton scrub oaks and + bushes cast delicate blue-penciled shadows. The bay, seen over the + flooded, frozen salt meadows and distant dunes, was in its winter dress of + the deepest sapphire, trimmed with whitecaps and fringed with stranded ice + cakes. There was a snap and tang in the breeze which braced one like a + tonic. The party in the carriage was a gay one. + </p> + <p> + “Getting tired, captain?” asked Peabody. + </p> + <p> + “Who? Me? Well, I guess not. 'Most home, Bos'n. There's the salt works + ahead there.” + </p> + <p> + They passed the abandoned salt works, the crumbling ruins of a dead + industry, and the boundary stone, now half hidden in a drift, marking the + beginning of Bayport township. Then, from the pine grove at the curve + farther on, appeared two capped and coated figures, performing a crazy + fandango. + </p> + <p> + “Who's them two lunatics,” inquired Captain Cy, “whoopin' and carryin' on + in the middle of the road? Has anybody up this way had a jug come by + express or—Hey! WHAT? Why, you old idiots you! COME here and let me + get a hold of you!” + </p> + <p> + The Board of Strategy swooped down upon the carriage like Trumet + mosquitoes on a summer boarder. They swarmed into the vehicle, Bailey on + the front seat and Asaph in the rear, where, somehow or other, they made + room for him. There were handshakings and thumps on the back. + </p> + <p> + “What you doin' 'way up here in the west end of nowhere?” demanded Captain + Cy. “By the big dipper, I'm glad to see you! How'd you get here?” + </p> + <p> + “Walked,” cackled Bailey. “Frogged it all the way. Soon's Mrs. Peabody + wired you was goin' to ride, me and Ase started to meet you. Wan't you + surprised?” + </p> + <p> + “We wanted to be the fust to say howdy, old man,” explained Asaph. “Wanted + to welcome you back, you know.” + </p> + <p> + The captain was immensely pleased. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm glad I've got so much popularity, anyhow,” he said. “Guess + 'twill be different when I get down street, hey? Don't cal'late Tad and + Angie 'll shed the joyous tear over me. Never mind; long's my friends are + glad I don't care about the rest.” + </p> + <p> + The Board looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Tad?” repeated Bailey. “And Angie? What you talkin' about? Why, they—Ugh!” + </p> + <p> + The last exclamation was the result of a tremendous dig in the ribs from + the Tidditt fist. Asaph, who had leaned forward to administer it, was + frowning and shaking his head. Mr. Bangs relapsed into a grinning silence. + </p> + <p> + West Bayport seemed to be deserted. At one or two houses, however, + feminine heads appeared at the windows. One old lady shook a calico apron + at the carriage. A child beside her cried: “Hurrah!” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Hepsy h'istin' colors by mistake,” laughed the captain. “She ain't + got her specs, I guess, and thinks I'm Heman. That comes of ridin' astern + of a span, Peabody.” + </p> + <p> + But as they drew near the Center flags were flying from front-yard poles. + Some of the houses were decorated. + </p> + <p> + “What in the world—” began Captain Cy. “Land sakes! look at the + schoolhouse. And Simmons's! And—and Simpson's!” + </p> + <p> + The schoolhouse flag was flapping in the wind. The scarred wooden pillars + of its portico were hidden with bunting. Simmons's front displayed a row + of little banners, each bearing a letter—the letters spelled + “Welcome Home.” Tad's barber shop was more or less artistically wreathed + in colored tissue paper. There, too, a flag was draped over the front + door. Yet not a single person was in sight. + </p> + <p> + “For goodness' sake!” cried the bewildered captain. “What's all this mean? + And where is everybody. Have all hands—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped in the middle of the sentence. They were at the foot of + Whittaker's Hill. Its top, between the Atkins's gate and the Whittaker + fence, was black with people. Children pranced about the outskirts of the + crowd. A shout came down the wind. The horses, not in the least fatigued + by their long canter, trotted up the slope. The shouting grew louder. A + wave of youngsters came racing to meet the equipage. + </p> + <p> + “What—what in time?” gasped Captain Cy. “What's up? I—” + </p> + <p> + And then the town clerk seized him by the arm. Peabody shook his other + hand. Bos'n threw her arms about his neck. Bailey stood up and waved his + hat. + </p> + <p> + “It's you, you old critter!” whooped Asaph. “It's YOU, d'you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “The appropriation has gone through,” explained the lawyer, “and this is + the celebration in consequence. And you are the star attraction because, + you see, everyone knows you are responsible for it.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what!” howled the excited Bangs. “And we're goin' to show you what + we think of you for doin' it. We've been plannin' this for over a + fortni't.” + </p> + <p> + “And I knew it all the time,” squealed Bos'n, “and I didn't tell a word, + did I?” + </p> + <p> + “Three cheers for Captain Whittaker!” bellowed a person in the crowd. This + person—wonder of wonders!—was Tad Simpson. + </p> + <p> + The cheering was, considering the size of the crowd, tremendous. + Bewildered and amazed, Captain Cy was assisted from the carriage and + escorted to his front door. Amidst the handkerchief-waving, applauding + people he saw Keturah Bangs and Alpheus Smalley and Angeline Phinney and + Captain Salters—even Alonzo Snow, his recent opponent in town + meeting. Josiah Dimick was there, too, apparently having a fit. + </p> + <p> + On the doorstep stood Georgianna and—and—yes, it was true—beside + her, grandly extending a welcoming hand, the majestic form of the + Honorable Heman Atkins. Some one else was there also, some one who + hurriedly slipped back into the crowd as the owner of the Cy Whittaker + place came up the path between the hedges. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atkins shook the captain's hand and then, turning toward the people, + held up his own for silence. To all outward appearance, he was still the + great Heman, our district idol, philanthropist, and leader. His silk hat + glistened as of old, his chest swelled in the old manner, his whiskers + were just as dignified and awe-inspiring. For an instant, as he met the + captain's eye, his own faltered and fell, and there was a pleading + expression in his face, the lines of which had deepened just a little. But + only for an instant; then he began to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Cyrus,” he said, “it is my pleasant duty, on behalf of your neighbors and + friends here assembled, to welcome you to your—er—ancestral + home after your trying illness. I do it heartily, sincerely, gladly. And + it is the more pleasing to me to perform this duty, because, as I have + explained publicly to my fellow-townspeople, all disagreement between us + is ended. I was wrong—again I publicly admit it. A scheming + blackleg, posing in the guise of a loving father, imposed upon me. I am + sorry for the trouble I have caused you. Of you and of the little girl + with you I ask pardon—I entreat forgiveness.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. Captain Cy, the shadow of a smile at the corner of his mouth, + nodded, and said briefly: + </p> + <p> + “All right, Heman. I forgive you.” Few heard him: the majority were + applauding the congressman. Sylvanus Cahoon, whispering in the ear of + “Uncle Bedny,” expressed as his opinion that “that was about as + magnaminious a thing as ever I heard said. Yes, sir! mag-na-min-ious—that's + what <i>I</i> call it.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” continued the great Atkins, “I have said all this to you before. + What I have to say now—what I left my duties in Washington expressly + to come here and say—is that Bayport thanks you, <i>I</i> thank you, + for your tremendous assistance in obtaining the appropriation which is to + make our harbor a busy port where our gallant fishing fleet may ride at + anchor and unload its catch, instead of transferring it in dories as + heretofore. Friends, I have already told you how this man”—laying a + hand on the captain's shoulder—“came to the Capital and used his + influence among his acquaintances in high places, with the result that the + thirty thousand dollars, which I had despaired of getting, was added to + the bill. I had the pleasure of voting for that bill. It passed. I am + proud of that vote.” + </p> + <p> + Tremendous applause. Then some one called for three cheers for Mr. Atkins. + They were given. But the recipient merely bowed. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he said deprecatingly. “No, no! not for me, my friends, much as + I appreciate your gratitude. My days of public service are nearly at an + end. As I have intimated to some of you already, I am seriously + considering retiring from political life in the near future. But that is + irrelevant; it is not material at present. To-day we meet, not to say + farewell to the setting, but to greet the rising sun. <i>I</i> call for + three cheers for our committee of one—Captain Cyrus Whittaker.” + </p> + <p> + When the uproar had at last subsided, there were demands for a speech from + Captain Cy. But the captain, facing them, his arms about the delighted + Bos'n, positively declined to orate. + </p> + <p> + “I—I'm ever so much obliged to you, folks,” he stammered. “I am so. + But you'll have to excuse me from speechmaking. They—they didn't + teach it afore the mast, where I went to college. Thank you, just the + same. And do come and see me, everybody. Me and this little girl,” drawing + Emily nearer to him, “will be real glad to have you.” + </p> + <p> + After the handshaking and congratulating were over, the crowd dispersed. + It was a great occasion; all agreed to that, but the majority considered + it a divided triumph. The captain had done a lot for the town, of course, + but the Honorable Atkins had made another splendid impression by his + address of welcome. Most people thought it as fine as his memorable effort + at town meeting. Unlike that one, however, in this instance it is safe to + say that none, not even the adoring and praise-chanting Miss Phinney, + derived quite the enjoyment from the congressman's speech that Captain Cy + did. It tickled his sense of humor. + </p> + <p> + “Ase,” he observed irrelevantly when the five—Tidditt, Georgianna, + Bailey, Bos'n, and himself were at last alone again in the sitting room, + “it DON'T pay to tip over a monument, does it—not out in public, I + mean. You wouldn't want to see me blow up Bunker Hill, would you?” + </p> + <p> + “Blow up Bunker Hill!” repeated Asaph in alarmed amazement. “Godfrey + scissors! I believe you're goin' loony. This day's been too much for you. + What are you talkin' about?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin',” with a quiet chuckle. “I was thinkin' out loud, that's all. + Did you ever notice them imitation stone pillars on Heman's house? They're + holler inside, but you'd never guess it. And, long as you do know they're + holler, you can keep a watch on 'em. And there's one thing sure,” he + added, “they ARE ornamental.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <h3> + CAPTAIN CY'S “PICTURE” + </h3> + <p> + “Wonder where Phoebe went to,” remarked Mr. Tidditt, a little later. “I + thought I saw her with Heman and Georgianna on the front steps when we + drove up.” + </p> + <p> + “She was there,” affirmed the housekeeper. “She'd been helpin' me trim up + the rooms here. What do you think of 'em, Cap'n Cyrus? Ain't they pretty?” + </p> + <p> + The sitting room and dining room were gay with evergreens and + old-fashioned flowers. Our living room windows in the winter time are + usually filled with carefully tended potted plants, and the neighbors had + loaned their geraniums and fuchsias and heliotrope and begonias to + brighten the Whittaker house for its owner's return. Captain Cy, who was + sitting in the rocker, with Bos'n on his knee, looked about him. Now that + the first burst of excitement was over, he seemed grave and preoccupied. + </p> + <p> + “They look mighty pretty, Georgianna,” he said. “Fine enough. But what was + that you just said? Did—” + </p> + <p> + “Yup,” interrupted Miss Taylor, who had scarcely ceased talking since + breakfast that morning. “Yes, 'twas teacher that helped fix 'em. Not that + I wouldn't have got along without her, but I had more to do than a little, + cleanin' and scrubbin' up. So Phoebe she come in, and—Oh! yes, as I + was sayin', she was out front with me, but the minute your carriage drove + up with that lovely span—AIN'T that a fine span! I cal'late they're—” + </p> + <p> + “What become of teacher?” broke in Bailey. + </p> + <p> + “Why, she run off somewheres. I didn't see where she went to; I was too + busy hollerin' at Cap'n Whittaker and noticin' that span. I bet you they + made Angie Phinney's eyes stick out. I guess she realizes that we in this + house are some punkins now. If I don't lord it over her when I run acrost + her these days, then I miss my guess. I—” + </p> + <p> + “Belay!” ordered Captain Cy, his gravity more pronounced than ever. “How + does it happen that you—See here, Georgianna, did you tell Ph—er—Miss + Dawes what I told you to tell her when I went away?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, I told her. I hated to, dreadful, but I done it. She was awful + set back at fust, but I guess she asked Mr. Tidditt—Where you goin', + Mr. Tidditt?” + </p> + <p> + The town clerk, his face red, was on his way to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Asked Ase?” repeated the captain. “Ase, come here! Did you tell her + anything?” + </p> + <p> + Asaph was very much embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he stammered, “I didn't mean to, Cy, but she got to askin' me + questions, and somehow or nother I did tell her about our confab, yours + and mine. I told her that I knew folks was talkin', and I felt 'twas my + duty to tell you so. That's why I done it, and I told her you said—well, + you know what you said yourself, Cy.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy was evidently much disturbed. He put Bos'n down, and rose to + his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he asked sharply, “what did she say?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! she was white and still for a minute or two. Then she kind of stamped + her foot and went off and left me. But next time she met me she was nice + as pie. She's been pretty frosty to Angie and the rest of 'em, but she's + been always nice to Bailey and me. Why, when I asked her pardon, she said + not at all, she was very glad to know the truth; it helped her to + understand things. And you could see she meant it, too. She—” + </p> + <p> + “So she has been comin' here ever since. And the gossip has been goin' on, + I s'pose. Well, by the big dipper, it'll stop now! I'll see to that.” + </p> + <p> + The Board of Strategy and the housekeeper were amazed. + </p> + <p> + “Gossip!” repeated Bailey. “Well, I guess there ain't nothin' said against + her now—not in THIS town, there ain't! Why, all hands can't praise + her enough for her smartness in findin' out about that Thomas. If it wan't + for her, he'd be botherin' you yet, Cy. You know it. What are you talkin' + about?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy passed his hand over his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Bos'n,” he said slowly, “you run and help Georgianna in the kitchen a + spell. She's got her dinner to look out for, I guess likely. Georgianna,” + to the housekeeper, who looked anything but eager, “you better see to your + dinner right off, and take Emmie with you.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Taylor reluctantly departed, leading Bos'n by the hand. The child was + loath to leave her uncle, but he told her he wouldn't give a cent for his + first dinner at home if she didn't help in preparing it. So she went out + happy. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then,” demanded the captain, “what's this about Phoebe and Thomas? I + want to know. Stop! Don't ask another question. Answer me first.” + </p> + <p> + So the Board of Strategy, by turns and in concert, told of the drive to + Trumet and the call on Debby Beasley. Asaph would have narrated the story + of the upset sulky, but Bailey shut him up in short order. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind that foolishness,” he snapped. “You see, Cy, Debby had just + been out to Arizona visitin' old Beasley's niece. And she'd fell in with a + woman out there whose husband had run off and left her. And Debby, she + read the advertisement about him in the Arizona paper, and it said he had + the spring halt in his off hind leg, or somethin' similar. Now, Thomas, he + had that, too, and there was other things that reminded Phoebe of him. So + she don't say nothin' to nobody, but she writes to this woman askin' for + more partic'lars and a photograph of the missin' one. The partic'lars + come, but the photograph didn't; the wife didn't have none, I b'lieve. But + there was enough to send Phoebe hotfoot to Mr. Peabody. And Peabody he + writes to his lawyer friend in Butte, Montana. And the Butte man he—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the long and short of it is,” cut in Tidditt, “that it looked safe + and sartin that Thomas HAD married the Arizona woman while his real wife, + Bos'n's ma, was livin', and had run off and left her same as he did Mary. + And the funny part of it is—” + </p> + <p> + “The funny part of it is,” declared Bangs, drowning his friend's voice by + raising his own, “that somebody out there, some scalawag friend of this + Thomas, must have got wind of what was up, and sent word to him. 'Cause, + when they went to hunt for him in Boston, he'd gone, skipped, cut stick. + And they ain't seen him since. He was afraid of bein' took up for + bigamist, you see—for bein' a bigamy, I mean. Well, you know what + I'm tryin' to say. Anyhow, if it hadn't been for me and Phoebe—” + </p> + <p> + “YOU and Phoebe!” snorted Asaph. “You had a whole lot to do with it, + didn't you? You and Aunt Debby 'll do to go together. I understand she's + cruisin' round makin' proclamations that SHE was responsible for the whole + thing. No, sir-ree! it's Phoebe Dawes that the credit belongs to, and this + town ain't done nothin' but praise her since it come out. You never see + such a quick come-about in your life—unless 'twas Heman's. But you + knew all this afore, Whit. Peabody must have told you.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy had listened to his friends' story with a face expressive of + the most blank astonishment. As he learned of the trip to Trumet and its + results, his eyes and mouth opened, and he repeatedly rubbed his forehead + and muttered exclamations. Now, at the mention of his lawyer's name, he + seemed to awaken. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on!” he interrupted, waving his hand. “Hold on! By the big dipper! + this is—is—Where IS Peabody? I want to see him.” + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, captain,” said the attorney. He had been out to the barn to + superintend the stabling of the span, but for the past five minutes had + been standing, unnoticed by his client, on the threshold of the dining + room. + </p> + <p> + “See here,” demanded Captain Cy, “see here, Peabody; is this yarn true? IS + it, now? this about—about Phoebe and all?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly it's true. I supposed you knew it. You didn't seem surprised + when I told you the case was settled.” + </p> + <p> + “Surprised? Why, no! I thought Heman had—Never mind that. Land of + love! SHE did it. She!” + </p> + <p> + He sat weakly down. The lawyer looked anxious. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tidditt,” he whispered, “I think perhaps he had better be left alone + for the present. He's just up from a sick bed, and this has been a trying + forenoon. Come in again this afternoon. I shall try to persuade him to + take a nap.” + </p> + <p> + The Board of Strategy, its curiosity unsatisfied, departed reluctantly. + When Mr. Peabody returned to the sitting room he found that naps were far, + indeed, from the captain's thoughts. The latter was pacing the + sitting-room floor. + </p> + <p> + “Where is she?” he demanded. “She was standin' on the steps with Heman. + Have you seen her since?” + </p> + <p> + His friend was troubled. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, I've seen her,” he said. “I have been talking with her. She has + gone away.” + </p> + <p> + “Gone AWAY! Where? What do you mean? She ain't—ain't left Bayport?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. What in the world should she leave Bayport for? She has gone to + her boarding house, I guess; at all events, she was headed in that + direction.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't she shake hands with me? What made her go off and not say a + word? Oh, well, I guess likely I know the why!” He sighed despondently. “I + told her never to come here again.” + </p> + <p> + “You did? What in the world—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, for what I thought was good reasons; all on her account they was. + And yet she did come back, and kept comin', even after Ase blabbed the + whole thing. However, I s'pose that was just to help Georgianna. Oh, hum! + I AM an old fool.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer inspected him seriously. + </p> + <p> + “Well, captain,” he said slowly, “if it is any comfort for you to know + that your reason isn't the correct one for Miss Dawes's going away, I can + assure you on that point. I think she went because she was greatly + disappointed, and didn't wish to see you just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Disappointed? What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I didn't mean to tell you yet, but I judge that I'd better. No one + knows it here but Miss Dawes and I, and probably no one but us three need + ever know it. You see, the fact is that the Arizona woman, Desire Higgins, + isn't Mrs. Thomas at all. He isn't her missing husband.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's so. Really, it was too much of a coincidence to be possible, + and yet it certainly did seem that it would prove true. This Higgins woman + was, apparently, so anxious to find her missing man that she was ready to + recognize almost any description; and the slight lameness and the fact of + his having been in Montana helped along. If we could have gotten a + photograph sooner, the question would have been settled. Only last week, + while I was in Boston, I got word from the detective agency that a photo + had been received. I went to see it immediately. There was some + resemblance, but not enough. Henry Thomas was never Mr. Higgins.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but—they say Thomas has skipped out.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he has. That's the queer part of it. At the place where he boarded + we learned that he got a letter from Arizona—trust the average + landlady to look at postmarks—that he seemed greatly agitated all + that day, and left that night. No one has seen him since. Why he went is a + puzzle. Where, we don't care. So long as he keeps out of our way, that's + enough.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy did not care, either. He surmised that Mr. Atkins might + probably explain the disappearance. And yet, oddly enough, this + explanation was not the true one. The Honorable Heman solemnly assured the + captain that he had not communicated with Emily's father. He intended to + do so, as a part of the compact agreed upon at the hotel, but the man had + fled. And the mystery is still unsolved. The supposition is that there + really was a wife somewhere in the West. Who or where she was no Bayporter + knows. Henry Thomas has never come back to explain. + </p> + <p> + “I told Miss Dawes of the photograph and what it proved,” went on Peabody. + “She was dreadfully disappointed. She could hardly speak when she left me. + I urged her to come in and see you, but she wouldn't. Evidently she had + set her heart on helping you and the child. It is too bad, because, + practically speaking, we owe everything to her. There is little doubt that + the inquiry set on foot by her scared the Thomas fellow into flight. And + she has worked night and day to aid us. She is a very clever woman, + Captain Whittaker, and a good one. You can't thank her enough. Here! what + are you about?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy strode past him into the dining room. The hat rack hung on the + wall by the side door. He snatched his cap from the peg, and was + struggling into his overcoat. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” demanded the lawyer. “You mustn't attempt to walk + now. You need rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Rest! I'll rest by and by. Just now I've got business to attend to. Let + go of that pea-jacket.” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “No buts about it. I'll see you later. So long.” + </p> + <p> + He threw open the door and hurried down the walk. The lawyer watched him + in amazement. Then a slow smile overspread his face. + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” he called. “Captain Whittaker.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy looked back over his shoulder. “What do you want?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peabody's face was now intensely solemn, but there was a twinkle in + his eye. + </p> + <p> + “I think she's at the boarding house,” he said demurely. “I'm pretty + certain you'll find her there.” + </p> + <p> + All the regulars at the perfect boarding house had, of course, attended + the reception at the Cy Whittaker place. None of them, with the exception + of the schoolmistress, had as yet returned. Dinner had been forgotten in + the excitement of the great day, and Keturah and Angeline and Mrs. Tripp + had stopped in at various dwellings along the main road, to compare notes + on the captain's appearance and the Atkins address. Asaph and Bailey and + Alpheus Smalley were at Simmons's. + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy knew better than to attempt his hurried trip by way of the + road. He had no desire to be held up and congratulated. He went across + lots, in the rear of barns and orchards, wading through drifts and + climbing fences as no sane convalescent should. But the captain at that + moment was suffering from the form of insanity known as the fixed idea. + She had done all this for him—for HIM. And his last message to her + had been an insult. + </p> + <p> + He approached the Bangs property by the stable lane. No one locks doors in + our village, and those of the perfect boarding house were unfastened. He + entered by way of the side porch, just as he had done when Gabe Lumley's + depot wagon first deposited him in that yard. But now he entered on + tiptoe. The dining room was empty. He peeped into the sitting room. There, + by the center table, sat Phoebe Dawes, her elbow on the arm of her chair, + and her head resting on her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Ahem! Phoebe!” said Captain Cy. + </p> + <p> + She started, turned, and saw him standing there. Her eyes were wet, and + there was a handkerchief in her lap. + </p> + <p> + “Phoebe,” said the captain anxiously, “have you been cryin'?” + </p> + <p> + She rose on the instant. A great wave of red swept over her face. The + handkerchief fell to the floor, and she stooped and picked it up. + </p> + <p> + “Crying?” she repeated confusedly. “Why, no, of course—of course + not! I—How do you do, Captain Whittaker? I'm—we're all very + glad to see you home again—and well.” + </p> + <p> + She extended her hand. Captain Cy reached forward to take it; then he + hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think I'd ought to let you shake hands with me, Phoebe,” he said. + “Not until I beg your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “Beg my pardon? Why?” + </p> + <p> + He absently took the hand and held it. + </p> + <p> + “For the word I sent to you when I went away. 'Twas an awful thing to say, + but I meant it for your sake, you know. Honest, I did.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that,” she said. “Well, I did think you were rather particular as to + your visitors. But Mr. Tidditt explained, and then—You needn't beg + my pardon. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I knew you meant to be kind + to me.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I did. But you didn't obey orders. You kept comin'. Now, why—” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Did you suppose that <i>I</i> cared for the malicious gossip of—such + people? I came because you were in trouble, and I hoped to help you. And—and + I thought I had helped, until a few minutes ago.” + </p> + <p> + Her lip quivered. That quiver went to the captain's heart. + </p> + <p> + “Helped?” he faltered. “Helped? Why, you've done so much that I can't ever + thank you. You've been the only real helper I've had in all this miserable + business. You've stood by me all through.” + </p> + <p> + “But it was all wrong. He isn't the man at all. Didn't Mr. Peabody tell + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, he told me. What difference does that make? Peabody be hanged! + He ain't in this. It's you and me—don't you see? What made you do + all this for me?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at the floor and not at him as she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Why, because I wanted to help you,” she said. “I've been alone in the + world ever since mother died, years ago. I've had few real friends. Your + friendship had come to mean a great deal to me. The splendid fight you + were making for that little girl proved what a man you were. And you + fought so bravely when almost everyone was against you, I couldn't help + wanting to do something for you. How could I? And now it has come to + nothing—my part of it. I'm so sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “It ain't, neither. It's come to everything. Phoebe, I didn't mean to say + very much more than to beg your pardon when I headed for here. But I've + got to—I've simply got to. This can't go on. I can't have you keep + comin' to see me—and Bos'n. I can't keep meetin' you every day. I + CAN'T.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up, as if to speak, but something, possibly the expression in + his face, caused her to look quickly down again. She did not answer. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do it,” continued the captain desperately. “'Tain't for what + folks might say. They wouldn't say much when I was around, I tell you. It + ain't that. It's because I can't bear to have you just a friend. Either + you must be more'n that, or—or I'll have to go somewheres else. I + realized that when I was in Washin'ton and cruisin' to California and + back. I've either got to take Bos'n and go away for good, or—or—” + </p> + <p> + She would not help him. She would not speak. + </p> + <p> + “You see?” he groaned. “You see, Phoebe, what an old fool I am. I can't + ask you to marry me, me fifty-five, and rough from knockin' round the + world, and you, young and educated, and a lady. I ain't fool enough to ask + such a thing as that. And yet, I couldn't stay here and meet you every + day, and by and by see you marry somebody else. By the big dipper, I + couldn't do it! So that's why I can't shake hands with you to-day—nor + any more, except when I say good-by for keeps.” + </p> + <p> + Then she looked up. The color was still bright in her face, and her eyes + were moist, but she was smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Can't shake hands with me?” she said. “Please, what have you been doing + for the last five minutes?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Cy dropped her hand as if his own had been struck with paralysis. + </p> + <p> + “Good land!” he stammered. “I didn't know I did it; honest truth, I + didn't.” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe's smile was still there, faint, but very sweet. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you stop?” she queried. “I didn't ask you to.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did I stop? Why, because I—I—I declare I'm ashamed—” + </p> + <p> + She took his hand and clasped it with both her own. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not,” she said bravely, her eyes brightening as the wonder and + incredulous joy grew in his. “I'm very proud. And very, very happy.” + </p> + <p> + There was to be a big supper at the Cy Whittaker place that night. It was + an impromptu affair, arranged on the spur of the moment by Captain Cy, + who, in spite of the lawyer's protests and anxiety concerning his health, + went serenely up and down the main road, inviting everybody he met or + could think of. The captain's face was as radiant as a spring sunrise. His + smile, as Asaph said, “pretty nigh cut the upper half of his head off.” + People who had other engagements, and would, under ordinary circumstances, + have refused the invitation, couldn't say no to his hearty, “Can't come? + Course you'll come! Man alive! I WANT you.” + </p> + <p> + “Invalid, is he?” observed Josiah Dimick, after receiving and accepting + his own invitation. “Well, I wish to thunder I could be took down with the + same kind of disease. I'd be willin' to linger along with it quite a spell + if it pumped me as full of joy as Whit seems to be. Don't give laughin' + gas to keep off pneumonia, do they? No? Well, I'd like to know the name of + his medicine, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + Supper was to be ready at six. Georgianna, assisted by Keturah Bangs, Mrs. + Sylvanus Cahoon, and other volunteers, was gloriously busy in the kitchen. + The table in the dining room reached from one end of the big apartment to + the other. Guests would begin to arrive shortly. Wily Mr. Peabody, + guessing that Captain Cy might prefer to be alone, had taken the Board of + Strategy out riding behind the span. + </p> + <p> + In the sitting room, around the baseburner stove, were three persons—Captain + Cy, Bos'n, and Phoebe. Miss Dawes had “come early,” at the captain's + urgent appeal. Now she was sitting in the rocker, at one side of the + stove, gazing dreamily at the ruddy light behind the isinglass panes. She + looked quietly, blissfully contented and happy. At her feet, on the + braided mat, sat Bos'n, playing with Lonesome, who purred lazily. The + little girl was happy, too, for was not her beloved Uncle Cyrus at home + again, with all danger of their separation ended forevermore? + </p> + <p> + As for Captain Cy himself, the radiant expression was still on his face, + brighter than ever. He looked across at Phoebe, who smiled back at him. + Then he glanced down at Bos'n. And all at once he realized that this was + the fulfillment of his dream. Here was his “picture”; the sitting room was + now as he had always loved to think of it—as it used to be. He was + in his father's chair, Phoebe in the one his mother used to occupy, and + between them—just where he had sat so often when a boy—the + child. The Cy Whittaker place had again, and at last, come into its own. + </p> + <p> + He drew a long breath, and looked about the room; at the stove, the lamp, + the old, familiar furniture, at his grandfather's portrait over the + mantel. Then, in a flash of memory, his father's words came back to him, + and he said, laughing aloud from pure happiness: + </p> + <p> + “Bos'n, run down cellar and get me a pitcher of cider, won't you?—there's + a good feller.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Cy Whittaker's Place, by Joseph C. Lincoln + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CY WHITTAKER'S PLACE *** + +***** This file should be named 3281-h.htm or 3281-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/8/3281/ + +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. 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