Cap'n Jonah's fortune : A story of Cape Cod

By James A. Cooper

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Cap'n Jonah's fortune

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.

Title: Cap'n Jonah's fortune
A story of Cape Cod

Author: James A. Cooper

Illustrator: A. O. Scott

Release date: March 10, 2025 [eBook #75584]

Language: English

Original publication: United States: George Sully and Company, 1919

Credits: Aaron Adrignola, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAP'N JONAH'S FORTUNE ***

Cap'n Jonah's Fortune

_A STORY OF CAPE COD_

BY JAMES A. COOPER

ILLUSTRATED BY
A. O. SCOTT

NEW YORK
GEORGE SULLY AND COMPANY

_All rights reserved_

_Printed in U. S. A._

BOOKS BY JAMES A. COOPER

CAP'N ABE, STOREKEEPER
CAP'N JONAH'S FORTUNE

CONTENTS

I. PEARL OF THE CLOTHESLINE

II. A BLIND YOUNG MAN

III. CAP'N JONAH SETTLES DOWN

IV. TOM PETTY REVEALS HIMSELF

V. "BETTER A DINNER OF HERBS"

VI. ROMANCE AND PEARL HOLDEN

VII. GETTING ACQUAINTED

VIII. THE BALD TRUTH

IX. A SHELL ROAD IDYL

X. "PEARLY"

XI. AN EVENING WITH CAP'N ABE

XII. THE APOSTATE SANTA CLAUS

XIII. FAIR AND FOUL WEATHER

XIV. VEERING WINDS

XV. MISUNDERSTANDINGS

XVI. THE ALLEGORY

XVII. THE STRONG BOX

XVIII. SARAH PETTY TRIMS HER SAILS

XIX. THE HIGH HAND

XX. THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL

XXI. THE WISE MEN OUT OF THE SOUTH

XXII. THE STING OF HYPOCRISY

XXIII. THE CHRISTMAS GALE

XXIV. THE MISTLETOE BOUGH

XXV. THE PRICE OF HEROISM

XXVI. CAP'N JONAH'S CHALLENGE

XXVII. A RIFT IN THE CLOUDS

XXVIII. ALL ABOUT A BAD SMELL

XXIX. CHRISTMAS EVE AT CAP'N ABE'S

XXX. "CHRISTMAS GIFT"

ILLUSTRATIONS

"My goodness! Comp'ny?" gasped Pearl, staring wide-eyed at the broadly
smiling visitor

"Belay that!" he commanded in a deep sea growl

One after another Cap'n Jonah called off the amount on the certificates

He swung to her side, landed with both boots digging into the frozen
sand for a foothold

CAP'N JONAH'S FORTUNE

CHAPTER I

PEARL OF THE CLOTHESLINE

Washy Gallup, who was general handy man along the Shell Road, came
wheeling a barrow past Liphalet Truitt's and the Mariner's Chapel from
the direction of Cardhaven proper and the docks. On the barrow was an
iron-strapped sea-chest, of a bright blue color and with tarred rope
handles.

"Wal, Cap'n, we're nigh to your anchorage," Washy declared, setting
down the barrow to spit on his hands.

"Yes, yes! I reckernize the channel buoys. That's Orrin Petty's place
on our weather bow, ain't it?"

The speaker, who closely followed Washy and the barrow, would have
attracted attention anywhere, certainly here on the Shell Road had
it not been that hour of the afternoon when most of the neighborhood
womenfolk were engaged in supper preparations and were not, therefore,
in sight of the highway.

He was a solidly built man without being at all pursy. He had
wind-bitten cheeks and a flame in his black eyes that belied his age.
Although he walked with a cane and his hair and beard were gray, there
was a brisk air about the man that at the very start seemed to reduce
his actual age by half a score of years.

A fringe of whisker framed his mahogany face and his lips were cleanly
shaven. Nowhere out of Ireland save in longshore communities or among
old-fashioned seafaring men are these "galways" still popular. He
was dressed in a pilot-cloth suit, much wrinkled from lying, in all
probability, for more than one voyage in that same chest that Washy
Gallup now proceeded to wheel before him.

"Here we be, Cap'n," observed Washy finally, turning into the lane that
led to the house already identified.

"I see! I see!" agreed the mariner, staring curiously at the
high-shouldered, unpainted frame dwelling which stood with an unsocial
end to the road.

But there was a pleasant side yard into which the lane led--grassy,
with trees bordering it and a clothes'-drying green in the middle.
There was a girl taking clothes from the lines in this yard and it was
upon her the visitor's gaze became fixed.

She was of a slim figure, yet with prettily rounded limbs, as he could
easily see while she stood with the fresh breeze blowing the scant
gingham frock about her. Her arms were bare almost to her shoulders,
displaying dimpled elbows and wrists. The short skirt became even
shorter as she stood on tip-toes to reach a particularly obdurate
clothespin, and the turn of her leg and ankle was as trim as that of a
yacht's spars.

The neck of the simple frock she wore was cut square. As she turned
toward the two men approaching, there was revealed the rising and
falling of her full bosom--like the swell of the sea itself before a
storm. But her face, save the dimpled, pink chin, was smothered in an
enormous sunbonnet.

"Where's your Uncle Orrin, Pearly?" asked Washy, dropping the handles
of the wheelbarrow once more.

The girl let fall the last garment she had taken from the line--a
voluminous blue starched skirt--into the clothesbasket and vigorously
punched it into smaller compass. Then she stood up again to face her
questioner. The captain obtained a flashing glimpse of clouded dark
eyes and little, even white teeth between full red lips.

"He _isn't_ my uncle!" said the girl with emphasis. "He's my mother's
step-brother's cousin-by-marriage, Orrin Petty is. And if I had any
livin' relative in the world to go to, I'd leave here just as fast as
I could travel, Washy Gallup--so there!"

"Hoity-toity!" murmured Washy. "What's dragged anchor an' gone to sea
on _this_ tide, I want to know? Where's Orrin?"

There was a flurry of tears in the girl's voice as she uttered her
emphatic speech. She jerked another starched piece from the line and
crowded it with the clothespins into the basket.

"He isn't at home; nor Miz Petty; nor Tom. They all went to the county
fair down to Harwich."

"I snum! And left you to home, did they?" ejaculated Washy, suddenly
seeing a great light.

"And I made this very dress to go to the fair in," confided Pearl. "Got
the pattern out of the _Ladies' Home Provider_. And I picked out the
very prettiest bolt of gingham Cap'n Abe had in his store. Now I've
washed in it, and I'm going to iron in it. This was the day I meant to
wear it, and I _have_ wore it!"

She snapped her pretty teeth together on this remark and jerked back
her sunbonnet so that the captain could see her face. Despite the storm
upon it, it was well worth seeing, as he was confident it would be.
With all her fairness of skin and almost flaxen hair, Pearl's eyes were
dark, and smoldering now with indignation.

The situation was too much for Washy. He had no further comment to
make. But he waved an introductory hand toward the silent man in the
pilot-cloth suit.

"This here's Cap'n Jonah Hand, Miz Petty's uncle," he said. "He's come
to visit a spell. Come up on the two-master from Chatham, and fouled my
hawse at Durgin's dock. So I helped him over with his chist."

"My goodness! Comp'ny?" gasped Pearl, staring wide-eyed at the broadly
smiling visitor. "And there isn't a thing baked in the house but
doughnuts!"

[Illustration: "My goodness! Comp'ny?" gasped Pearl, staring wide-eyed
at the broadly smiling visitor.]

"Wal," observed Cap'n Jonah Hand, slowly, "I reckon I can fare on
them, seein's I ain't set a tooth into one for many a long year. 'Way
'cross the world in Chinese waters, I took a hankerin' last year for
'fried holes,' as we used to call 'em when I was a boy. I told Ming, my
Chinese cook, how they'd ought to be made, and he tackled 'em. Ming was
putty nigh the bravest feller I ever did see. He'd tackle anything.

"When he got through with them doughnuts you could have used 'em for
grommets. They warn't nothin' fit for a man's stomach. Don't worry
about feedin' me, gal. I had a snack before I got off the Chatham
schooner."

"You come right in, sir," said Pearl, recovering from her surprise and
her natural Cape hospitality asserting itself. "You give him a hand
with his chist, Washy."

She tripped up the steps in advance and opened the green slatted door.
It was cool and dark in the hall, promising an interior speckless and
flyless. There was barely light enough by which the two men might
stumble up the ingrain-carpeted stair.

Pearl threw open the door of the guest room with a flourish. Its white
and blue braided mats and counterpane to match, made the darkened
chamber seem invitingly cool. Pearl seized the blue-banded water
pitcher and went down to the pump while Cap'n Jonah paid Washy for his
assistance.

She returned with the brimming pitcher and a cake of home-molded soap.
There were already towels hanging upon the washstand rack.

"You come right down, sir, when you've freshened up," the girl said.
"I'll put the coffee pot over and you can sample the doughnuts. Miz
Petty and the others won't be home till late, like enough."

"All right, my gal," replied Cap'n Jonah. "But don't you go for to
put yourself out none. I've seen lots worse quarters than these, I do
assure you."

She descended the stairs and closed the door after Washy, who was
already trundling the barrow down the lane. She desired to ask a few
questions of the gossipy Mr. Gallup about Cap'n Jonah Hand; but she
would not run after Washy.

Taking down the remainder of the clotheslines' burden she pressed down
the running-over basket and, seizing it by its two handles, started
for the kitchen door. The basket was so big and the wash so bulky that
Pearl was very nearly hidden from sight as she came up the steps of the
porch.

Cap'n Jonah had quickly made his toilet and found his way down to the
kitchen. Pearl heard the latch of the screen door lifted and his voice
say:

"You've got consider'ble of a haul there, ain't you?"

She set the basket down on one of the broad tables, panting and
laughing. Her indignation seemed to have evaporated. The sunbonnet had
fallen back, hanging by its strings tied under her chin. She had a lot
of fluffy hair, and it was braided in two plaits which hung below her
waist.

Hers was not a childish looking face, however, for her eyes had a
steady, direct expression and her lips were molded in firm lines.

"How old be you, gal?" asked the captain.

"Goin' on eighteen. Miz Petty makes out I'm not seventeen yet. But I
remember how old I was when I came here, and I know she can't keep me
after I'm eighteen, if I don't want to stay."

"I take it you're not happy 'long o' Sarah Petty?"

"Do you reckon anybody'd be happy with Miz Petty? Tom's the only person
on top of this foot-stool she's re'lly fond of; and she 'most nags him
to death."

"Hum!" commented the captain. There did not seem much else to say. Yet,
for the sake of sociability, he ventured: "So you'd like to get away
from Sarah?"

"I'd have gone to the Cardhaven Inn to work this season, takin' Gusty
Durgin's place--she that's gone to be a moving picture actress--" said
Pearl briskly, "only Miz Petty said I couldn't. She claims me till I'm
eighteen. Unless I get married before that time."

"Whatever!" gasped Cap'n Jonah. "You don't mean to say you're thinking
of getting merried--a gal like you?"

"What girl doesn't think of it--even if she hasn't a living chance?"
demanded Pearl, in her crisp, assertive way. "Of course I'm thinking
of it; but that isn't saying I'm likely to be anything but a
sour-cranberry old maid. That's what most of us Cape Cod girls turn out
to be. There aren't men enough--real men, I mean--on the Cape to go
'round."

She dimpled, and her expression took all the sting out of her words.
She was a pretty girl--the prettiest girl Cap'n Jonah remembered ever
to have seen. Being a childless widower, for many years he had "paid
little attention to the sect," as he frequently stated. But there was a
freshness and sweetness about Pearl, in addition to her physical gifts,
that charmed the old sea captain.

She stirred the fire, set the kettle forward to boil, and measured the
aromatic coffee--as it seemed, all in one motion. Her activity and
litheness delighted his seaman's eye.

"A tidy craft!" he muttered admiringly. There was a wistful thought in
the captain's mind, too. He wished he had been vouchsafed a daughter
like this girl.

"What's your name, Pearly?" he asked. "'Tain't Petty, I warrant."

"No, sir. My name's Pearl Holden. The Holdens belong Paulmouth way.
But there aren't any of 'em belonging to me--worse luck! Orrin Petty
put in a claim for me after my maw's sister--Aunt Becky--died, and the
selectmen let him have me. Bein' parceled out like you belonged to a
litter of puppies isn't as pleasant as you might think it."

"No. I guess not. I'd ought to know, too," said the captain. "I was
bound out myself when I was a little skeezicks. But I run away and went
to sea. Not that I bettered myself much by so doing--not for a spell,"
and he shook his head thoughtfully.

"I guess bad luck stuck to me like a barnacle, 'cause of my name. You'd
think they'd make it a crime punishable by law to give the name of
'Jonah' to a helpless child. But 'twas taken out of the Bible, and
therefore bound to be a good one, my folks thought like enough. I heard
of a Cape Cod man once that was named Beelzebub for the same reason."

"I guess you've found," said the practical Pearl, "that a name isn't
of much importance after all. Folks can be what they've a mind to be,
I guess. Your name, for instance, didn't keep you from risin' to the
quarterdeck."

"No. I riz in spite of it," the visitor said complacently.

He sat down at one end of the deal table where Pearl had spread a snowy
napkin. In rapid succession she set before him cold baking-powder
biscuit, as white and fluffy as down; a golden square of butter on a
flowered plate; a wedge of creamy cheese; and a bowl heaped with flaky
brown rings--the delight of the hearty appetite and despair of the
dyspeptic.

"Them look some diff'rent from Ming's," said the captain dryly.

He "tucked away" a hearty meal and drank his third cup of coffee before
he rose from the table. Pearl was busy sprinkling the clothes. She
rolled each large piece tightly, finishing with a capable thump of her
dimpled fist. The slanting rays of the sun touched her hair, revealing
golden strands in it.

Cap'n Jonah seemed rather uncertain in his mind when he pushed his
chair back to the wall after brushing the doughnut crumbs from his blue
vest to the table. He stood at the screen door, looking out into the
yard and to the vista of white shell road that led seaward.

Finally he drew from his pocket a battered silver box, the lid of which
he snapped open. But the box was just as empty as he knew it to be.

"I say, Pearly," he said hopefully, "didn't I hear you speak of some
store 'round here?"

"Cap'n Abe's; yes, sir," replied the girl. "Right down the road there."

"Does he sell anything besides caliker for dresses and other folderols?"

"Why, Cap'n Abe sells most ev'rything," laughed the girl. "From a
thimble to a bow anchor, I do believe."

"Tobacker?"

"Of course. And snuff, Cap'n Hand. I see that's a snuff box in your
hand."

"Ye-as. I do drift kinder to snuff when I can get it," confessed the
captain. "Ye see, for many a v'y'ge I carried passengers, an' a feller
can't smoke on duty nor yet chew in the presence of lady passengers.
But they tell me kings and cardinals have used snuff; so I reckon it's
allowable for an old sea cap'n. I'll step down the road and see what
this storekeeper ye speak of carries in my line."

He set his glazed hat carefully upon his head, got his cane, and
stepped through the kitchen doorway into the evening sunlight.

CHAPTER II

A BLIND YOUNG MAN

Willy Peeble's autocar brought the Petty family home from the Paulmouth
depot.

Orrin Petty, who was notoriously as close as the skin to an eel, would
never have willingly agreed to such an expense. But county fair day was
the one day in the year when his wife put her foot down and insisted
upon the family making what the son, Tom, called "a splurge."

At Harwich Fair they were sure to meet all the Pettys that were worth
meeting, as well as many of Mrs. Petty's girlhood friends. Harwich was
a long way from Cardhaven, and Cape Cod folk are not given to useless
"visiting around." The neighbors well knew Orrin's cheese-paring ways
and Sarah's temper, as well as Tom Petty's utter uselessness. But the
family had a reputation to keep up with their relatives and friends at
a distance.

So Sarah Petty thought. That was one reason why Pearl had been left
at home. Mrs. Orrin Petty wanted no poor relation tagging them around
at the fair. Besides, Pearly's skimpy wardrobe might be difficult to
explain in the light of the rest of the family flaunting their Sunday
best.

Mrs. Petty was a little, trig, birdlike woman, with all the scrappy
temper of that curse of birddom, the English sparrow. She hopped out of
the autocar, paid Willy Peebles his fare to a penny--and no more--and
went into the house clacking smart heels, while Orrin and Tom followed
more slowly, laden with samples, prize packets, catalogs, and that
wealth of useless lumber always to be gathered at a county fair.

The menfolk were rather glum. Orrin because of the heavy expenses of
the day; Tom for a secret trouble that bore upon his soul. But Sarah
Petty was as spry and spiteful as usual.

"What I want to know first of all, Pearl Holden, is why them blinds is
open?" she demanded bustling into the house.

Pearl was just rolling the last piece of the huge wash into a hard damp
ball, and she tucked it down into the tightly packed basket with vigor.
She asked, however, quite mildly:

"What blinds, Miz Petty?"

"Them best room blinds, with the sun pourin' in all aft'noon onto my
new rugs and that counterpane."

"I didn't know he did that," said Pearl composedly.

"Who d'you mean--'he'?" Then she almost screamed as she saw the empty
plates and the coffee pot. "Who you been feedin', Pearl Holden? At my
expense, too, and jest as soon as my back's turned. Some tramp?"

"It's your uncle," Pearl explained, and it seemed that for once Mrs.
Petty could neither irritate nor browbeat her.

"My what?"

"Your Uncle Jonah. Cap'n Jonah Hand," said Pearl placidly. "He's come
to stop a spell. Brought his chest. Him and Washy Gallup took it up to
the best chamber."

"Them two tramps a-trackin' up the front stairs and that best room?"
shrieked Mrs. Petty, falling into a kitchen chair and staring at Pearl
as though she thought the girl had taken leave of her senses.

"Where would you have me put your uncle? In the woodshed?" asked Pearl,
with much more courage than usual. "He looks perfectly respectable to
me. And he's your own uncle."

"Who's this is your own uncle?" demanded Orrin Petty, coming heavily
into the kitchen and piling his armful of trash on the table.

"Jonah Hand. You've heard of him enough, Orrin Petty," said his wife
rather breathlessly. "And you'll remember he was here once--years ago,
when Tommy was a baby."

"That's all right, then," said her husband. "He don't visit often."

"But he writ me last year he thought of givin' up follerin' the sea and
comin' here to Cardhaven to settle down."

"Goshamighty!"

"I never thought the old fool would take me up," said Sarah Petty
viciously. "But I wrote him he'd be welcome."

"You _did_? Was you crazy?" demanded Orrin, his pale eyes suddenly
firing. "You reckon on havin' your pauper relations come here to live
on us?"

"Don't you say nothin' like that to me, Orrin Petty!" flared his wife.
"There's paupers on your side of the family, too," and she glanced
significantly at Pearl.

The girl was too used to such unkind remarks to take open offense.

"Besides," added Sarah Petty with hesitation, "Uncle Jonah Hand might
make some trouble for us, Orrin. I dunno. Where is he, Pearl?"

"He just stepped down to Cap'n Abe's store to buy him some snuff."

"Faugh! I might ha' knowed he'd be a nasty, old sailor, full o' filthy
habits."

"Well," drawled Master Tom, who was a lout of a youth several years
older than Pearl, "I reckon Pop and I can set his chist out in the
lane, if you say so, Marm."

"I--I dunno's that's best," said the woman, again strangely uncertain
for so assured a character. She turned sharply upon Pearl, whose ears
might be more acute than she cared to have them for the moment. "Take
that clothes-basket into the storeroom. It's little you've been doing
to-day, I can see, you good-for-nothing. Not a scrap of the wash as yet
ironed. And you flaunting that new dress. Hurry back, now, and draw the
tea. I'm famished for a cup."

She gave her attention swiftly to the two men as soon as Pearl left the
room.

"This Uncle Jonah, now," she hissed. "You remember well enough, Orrin.
I told you all about it when father died and I fell heir to what he
had. The money I got from him just about paid for the building of this
house."

"Wal, ye needn't throw it up to me so often. I know it," Orrin said
glumly enough.

"I'm talking about Jonah Hand now," snapped his wife. "He lent father a
power of money years and years ago. It was two thousand dollars. Uncle
Jonah had just sold his sheer in the _Wildwind_ brig. Father put his
name on a rascal's note an' got into trouble. Father was dreadful easy
that-a-way, an' I guess Uncle Jonah was like him.

"Anyway, Jonah Hand lent him the two thousand without a written scrap
of paper between 'em. But afterward father was silly enough to send
Uncle Jonah his note for the amount. He never paid no interest to Uncle
Jonah, and Uncle Jonah never presented the note for payment; but
if it's in existence yet he might ask for an accounting of father's
estate."

"Goshamighty!" ejaculated Orrin.

"That note wouldn't be good in law after this time," squealed Tom
hopefully.

"You don't know that," snarled his father. "That's only one of your
smart-Aleck sayings."

"Anyway," said Sarah Petty, wringing her hands on her narrow knees,
"he could make it awful unpleasant for us if he wanted to--Uncle Jonah
could. Ev'rybody would know about it. What would your A'nt Apollo Heath
say, Orrin? And Enoch Petty, he that's a State legislator? No, no!
'Twill never do to get the ill will of Uncle Jonah."

"What are you going to do, then, Marm?" asked the curious Tom.

"This dratted girl!" said Sarah Petty. "Mebbe she did just the right
thing for once. She put him in my best room. He's been treated nice
right at the start, I must say. He can't make no complaint that we
didn't meet him as relations should. If we treat him pleasant, but hint
how it's sort o' puttin' us out, his being here, mebbe he'll make his
visit and go, an' leave us in peace."

Orrin Petty had been thinking. Rather, he had been scheming. Orrin
seldom put his wits to work unless his intent was for his own
betterment and to the undoing of somebody else.

"Hush-a-that, Sarah!" he said. "What's this Uncle Jonah of yourn been
all his life?"

"Seafarin', I tell ye."

"Before the mast?"

"Owned his own craft, or had sheers in 'em. Been master of ships since
before Tommy was born," Sarah said. "I know that much."

"We know another thing," said the scheming Orrin. "If he 'cumulated
two thousand dollars to lend your father once't, he might well have
'cumulated more since that time. Ye don't know what he's mebbe got laid
away. Lots o' them old salts line their nests mighty well. Look at
'Liphalet Truitt--and him only a steward all the years he went to sea.
Ain't you this here Uncle Jonah's only livin' rel'tive?"

The three Pettys looked at each other silently for a full minute. They
knew each other's minds so well that some things needed not to be said
at all between them. Pearl came back into the kitchen and bustled about
the stove with the preparations for supper.

"Well, of course," Sarah Petty said in an entirely different tone,
"Uncle Jonah's an old man now, and we air his only relatives. It's
true. And it's quite according that he should come here to stay--for a
while, anyway.

"You be polite to him, Tommy. Better set the table with the gold-banded
china to-night, Pearl. I'll beat up a mess of sour-milk pancakes. I
warrant Uncle Jonah ain't had nothing like 'em on shipboard. An' step
lively for once't--do!"

For Pearl was staring at her, round-eyed. Sarah Petty's wind had
shifted so startlingly that the girl felt quite confounded.

* * * * *

Cap'n Jonah Hand strode down the Shell Road, his cane tapping smartly
and his blue-coated figure very erect. There was a nattiness in the
captain's appearance not always found among masters in the merchant
marine. His experience had been as varied as any skipper's who ever
sailed from the Cape; but as he told Pearl, for many years he was
master of passenger-carrying craft, and a certain behavior is demanded
of a man in that position.

On his quarterdeck and sitting at the head of his table in the
saloon-cabin, Cap'n Jonah must display a courtesy, even an urbanity,
not usually demanded of merchant skippers. A certain dignity sat upon
Cap'n Jonah's countenance, and his manner impressed all who even
casually met him.

He came to the wide-porched store, over the steps of which was nailed
the weather-beaten sign:

A. SILT
General Merchandise

There was nobody on the porch, but the two-leaved door to the store
was open. Inside was a rusty-legged stove, in which a handful of fire
burned despite the warmth of the late October sun. It was cool indoors
and a little damp.

Before the visitor mounted the steps he saw that a full quorum of the
Loungers' Club held sway around Cap'n Abe's stove. The few decrepit
armchairs, as well as several boxes, an overturned nail keg or two,
and even an upended chopping block were occupied by an audience that
listened with more or less impatience to a booming voice that dominated
them in spite of themselves.

"There the _Betsy Brown_ was, hove to and with a sea-anchor to lee'ard,
kickin' up didoes like one o' these busted broncos ye hear tell of in
the Wild West shows. There warn't a feller aboard but the supercargo
that warn't down with the fever, an' he didn't scurcely know the
maintruck from the keelson.

"He didn't durst tetch the tiller, nor bear a hand with sheet nor
halyard. All he could do was to drag himself by aid of a lubberline
from fo'c'stle to after cabin, and give the hands and the afterguard
water to drink. Water and ship's biscuit soaked in it was all the hull
ship's comp'ny put past their lips for two endurin' weeks.

"Yes, sir! The old _Betsy Brown_ strained every timber in her frame an'
when the crew began to crawl about deck again--naught but skeletons
of what they had been--the water was seepin' through half a hundred
seams, with the bilge oozing through the lower deck-planks. Her cargo
of box-shooks was 'bout all that kep' her afloat.

"You kin figger," went on the voice, "in what shape the crew was for a
spell at the pumps and caulkin' ship, even when the sea and gale went
down. It would ha' been a mess in a dead ca'm----

"Af'noon, sir! What can I do for you?"

The booming voice changed instantly to the brisk challenge of the
merchant. Through the brown gloom of the place the visitor saw the
guernsey-coated figure of the man behind the hacked counter, his
hairy fists resting easily upon it. Above his torso thus revealed was
a sweeping beard, humorous and twinkling blue eyes, and a pair of
silver-bowed spectacles pushed high upon a very bald forehead. The
storekeeper wore an old tarpaulin stuck upon the back of his head, and
altogether made a very salt-flavored picture indeed.

"What can I do for you, sir?" he repeated, leaving his audience to wait
with more or less apathy for the remainder of his tale.

The group around the stove divided to allow Cap'n Jonah to stride
through. The stock in trade of this seamanlike looking storekeeper was
of such variety, and in such quantity, that there was not much room in
the passage to the counter. As Pearl Holden had intimated, Cap'n Abe's
stock included an incongruous collection of wares.

Here hung oilskins and guernseys, hats and caps with strings of
ear-muffs and woolen mittens and "wristers" for winter work on the
banks. Flannel shirts and jumpers, with overalls of dungaree, and even
a lone dress-shirt, fly-specked, but still highly polished, aided
in making a forest of clothing at one side of the room, and quite
shrouding the show window.

Piled on the other side of the stove was a miscellany of hardware of
a nautical nature, with oars, oarlocks in clusters, lanterns plain
and those in gimbals, a small capstan or two--indeed, a multitudinous
collection of ship-chandlery in which one might find the furnishings
of a dozen fashions of small craft. On the counter and on the shelves
behind it were piled groceries and drygoods, fishing tackle and
garden supplies, woodenware and crockery, in an equally confusing and
astonishing variety.

The loiterers in the store who made way for the newcomer gazed at him
with more or less curiosity. The storekeeper bustled away for the snuff
for which Cap'n Jonah asked.

"That come in fresh this week," he said, returning with the snuff. "I
keep that kind pertic'lar for Marm Coe who lives out yonder on the
Neck. It's what keeps her alive, she says; and as she's got a round sum
o' money laid away I expect her nephews an' nieces wish't I couldn't
buy no more of it," and Cap'n Abe chuckled, "for they'll never git a
smell of her fortune while Marm Coe's on airth."

Cap'n Jonah opened the packet and poured the snuff into his silver box.
Then he took a pinch neatly, sneezed with gusto, and wiped his nose
with a spotless silk handkerchief.

"Yes; I allow that's the stuff," he said.

"You're Cap'n Jonah Hand, ain't you?" observed the storekeeper with
quite as much cordiality as curiosity. "Washy Gallup was speakin' of
you jest now. You're stoppin' up at Orrin Petty's?"

Cap'n Jonah acknowledged these facts. The bewhiskered storekeeper waved
an introductory hand.

"I'd like to make you acquainted, Cap'n Hand, with Cap'n Joab Beecher,
once master of the clipper-built _Ivanhoe_." The crippled Cap'n Joab
arose with the help of his cane to give the newcomer a hearty handshake.

"And here's Mr. 'Liphalet Truitt, as sailed steward many a v'y'ge in
the Blue Ball Line o' windjammers. 'Liphalet's settled down here on the
Shell Road, too. You old salts'll find much in common to talk about, I
ain't a doubt.

"These other fellers, Cap'n Hand," the storekeeper went on to say,
"air Milt Baker an' Amiel Perdue, an'----Scuse me, Mr. Helmford!" He
indicated a tall young man wearing shell-rimmed spectacles who stood
back against a showcase, taking in the scene with quiet enjoyment.
He was not of longshore origin, it was evident; yet he did not hold
himself apart from the group around Cap'n Abe's stove.

"Mr. Helmford," pursued Cap'n Abe, "is skipper of the fish hatchery the
United States Government's located up Salt Creek. We old hardshells
sort of admire Mr. Helmford 'cause we've found out he knows more about
fish than even we do; and we calc'lated before he come that we knowed a
plenty."

"Don't spread the butter too thick, Cap'n Abe," said Helmford,
good-naturedly, coming forward with an outstretched hand for Cap'n
Jonah. He was a pleasant looking young fellow, although his features
were rather gaunt and by no means handsome. Behind the round glasses
his eyes twinkled merrily; but his high, broad brow was that of the
dreamer.

Cap'n Abe did not overwhelm the visitor with attentions. He swung back
into the moving tale of the _Betsy Brown_ almost at once:

"So, as I was sayin', the hull crew an' the supercargo had their
work cut out for them on board that _Betsy Brown_. When the sea went
down----"

"I reckon Mandy'll be lookin' for me," observed the hatchet-faced Milt
Baker, working his way toward the door. "Comin', Amiel?"

"Yep. It's getting' chore time," agreed his particular crony.

"You're right for onc't, Amiel. It's time I catted my anchor an' made
sail," said Cap'n Beecher. "The missus'll be flyin' signals if I don't."

"I calc'late I'll ha'f to be goin,' too," said 'Liphalet Truitt. "It's
prayer an' conference meetin' night, and they'll expect me to ring the
chapel bell and light up. Gimme my package, Cap'n Abe."

The company around the stove broke up so quickly that Cap'n Abe was
left almost with his mouth open between sentences.

"Hi-mighty!" he ejaculated, "I was jest goin' to tell you fellers the
wind-up of that story."

"My cracky, Cap'n Abe," observed Milt, as he slid out through the
doorway, "you don't mean to say there is a wind-up to that yarn, do ye?"

Young Helmford was chuckling softly to himself as he strolled out of
the store beside Cap'n Jonah.

"Whatever!" gasped the latter. "What's the matter with that feller? He
had his ship hove to with a sea-anchor out. What d'you know about that,
young man?"

"Not much, Cap'n Hand," answered Helmford, "for I am no sailor, I am
sorry to say. I wouldn't know how to 'heave to' in any case."

"Why," said the old man, "on a craft like what I s'pose that _Betsy
Brown_ was, to heave to ye'd put the tiller down, brail up the fores'l,
haul aft the weather jib sheet, and put the main boom amidships. Unless
she'd lost her rudder no navigator would use a sea-anchor to bring her
head up into the wind. Simple enough."

"I presume that's so," admitted Helmford, glancing at the briskly
speaking master mariner curiously. "But it's all Greek to me, Captain."

"Ye-as. I s'pose it is," Cap'n Jonah said. "So you hatch fish for a
livin', do ye? An' that's all Greek to me. I allus had an idee fish did
their own hatchin' and could 'tend to it right an' proper without no
help from Government sharps."

Helmford continued to smile. "You know almost everything in this world
will stand improvement--and a man knows more than a fish."

"Hum! Does he?" rejoined Cap'n Jonah dryly. "He's never l'arned to swim
as good as a fish. I turn up here, young feller," and he halted at the
Petty lane. Pearl came out on the porch and waved her hand to Cap'n
Jonah. The late supper was ready. "Tidy craft that, I do say!" murmured
the captain; gazing admiringly at Pearl's trim figure and flushed face
as she stood there in the afterglow of the sunset.

"What?" responded the young man, unappreciatively. "Oh, yes. Mr. Orrin
Petty's place is one of the most attractive along the Shell Road."
Cap'n Jonah stared at him. "Well, good-night, Captain Hand. I am glad
to have met you."

"Good-night!" grunted the captain, shortly. Then he stared after the
tall, rather round-shouldered figure as it swung up the road with
never a backward glance. "Whatever!" he exclaimed vigorously. "That
young feller needs somethin' stronger than them goggles of his'n to
make him see what's wuth seein' along this road. Why, he's blind!"

CHAPTER III

CAP'N JONAH SETTLES DOWN

"Well, Uncle!" exclaimed Sarah Petty, meeting the old man at the door
with outstretched hand and a sharp smile upon her sharper face. "You
_air_ a stranger! You come clean across the world to see us."

"Wal, I was in the China trade last," admitted Cap'n Jonah; "so
naturally I had to come a fur ways to get to Cardhaven. I come through
the canal. Whatever! that's a snorting big job. I got to Boston on a
fruit steamer; and then I caught a trawler goin' down to Chatham and me
an' my chist come up from there on the freightin' schooner."

He had entered the kitchen now and released Sarah's hand to take
Orrin's. The latter said in lieu of too warm a greeting, for Orrin's
was a cautious soul: "Why didn't you come down from Boston by rail?
The steam cars bring ye a sight quicker, even if the fare is somethin'
more."

"No," said Cap'n Jonah. "I never go nowhere by these railroads if I
can help it. Ye never know when the b'iler's like to bust or the hull
contraption run off the track."

"Hoh!" snorted Tom in the background. "Marm said you'd sailed master o'
steam vessels. Warn't you afraid of the boiler's bustin' on them?"

"Now, Tom!" fluttered his mother.

"I could keep away from the b'ilers on them iron pots I was master of,"
said Cap'n Jonah, dryly. "And there's plenty of leeway in the open sea.
Wal, Orrin, I see the Haven's much as it looked aforetime, when I was
here. I liked the look of it then."

"Do you calc'late on stayin' quite a spell?" queried the anxious Mr.
Petty.

"I'm a-goin' to settle down. Yes, sir! I got enough sea-goin'. The
rheumatiz has got a grip on me anyway. And I want to stretch my old
bones in a bed that ain't forever pitchin' an' tossin'. I was took with
Cardhaven when I saw it years ago--when this feller was a baby," and he
jerked a forefinger, as hard as a spike, into the soft muscles covering
the surprised Tom's ribs.

"Hoh!" ejaculated Tom. "What you doin'?"

"Now, Tom," came the admonitory voice of his mother again. Then she
hastened to say: "Pull right up, Uncle Jonah. Never mind your pipe,
Orrin. Sit down and eat first. Pearly will finish these cakes."

She sat down herself behind an enormous teapot. Orrin drank quantities
of tea. It was filling, he said, and cheap.

Pearl had taken the captain's hardshell hat and his cane. He smiled at
her, and she dimpled in return. There was already a bond of sympathy
between the two.

"That there ox of Silas Peebles' we seen at the fair to-day was a
master big one," observed Orrin, already gulping down with gusto the
hot tea from a deep saucer.

Tom's face immediately fell again on this reminder of the fair. Pearl
eyed the young fellow suspiciously from her station at the stove.
Something had gone all wrong with Tom on this outing.

"I did admire the way your Cousin Ida was dressed, Orrin," said Sarah
Petty. "That orange and blue certainly did set her off."

"Huh!" returned her husband, "she looked like a lapstreak sloop goin'
to a regatta. What you women see in sech folderols is beyond me. I
can't make head nor tail of the fashions."

"A woman, like a ship, I reckon, ought to put her best foot for'ard. I
like to see 'em flyin' their pretty duds an' duffel."

"I can see you 'preciate the sect," said Sarah Petty, preening. "You
ain't too old, Uncle Jonah, to marry and have a home of your own again."

She said it with hidden anxiety. What Orrin had suggested about the old
mariner's possible wealth had begun to work like yeast in Sarah Petty's
mind.

"No. I guess not," Cap'n Jonah said thoughtfully. "I was married once,
and she was a good woman. If there is a next world, as the preachers
say there is (and they ought to know, considerin' as they're always
studyin' the chart of them waters an' can box the heavenly compass
so slick), why," continued the captain, "I wouldn't want to mix two
women in my mind. They say heaven's a place where the wicked cease
from troubling and the weary air at rest. But it's borne in on my mind
that two good women, let alone wicked ones, could make a feller a lot
of trouble, even in the heavenly pastures. I don't want to run no sech
risk. I will stay single for the rest of my natural life, I guess.

"Ye-as, Pearly. I don't care if I do take another heap o' them griddle
cakes. They're lickin' good."

Cap'n Jonah Hand was an old-fashioned seaman. No matter how long he had
sailed master of passenger or merchant ships, the Cape Cod tang clung
to his speech. Especially did he clip his words and use provincial
turns of speech now that he was among those who habitually took such
liberties with academic English.

"I suppose," began Sarah Petty, trying to drive a conversational wedge
in the right direction, "that well-to-do widowers do have to dodge the
wiles of designing females. We've got some along the Shell Road that
you'll ha'f to keep your sails trimmed for, Uncle Jonah."

"Oh, pshaw!" ejaculated the captain, rather sheepishly, "I guess
the women'll leave me alone--'specially when they l'arn I ain't no
millionaire."

The flashed glances between Sarah Petty and her husband were laden with
suspicion. Sarah's sharp voice punctured the following silence as a
needle might prick a toy balloon.

"I presume you've got aplenty saved up after all these years for your
board and keep, Uncle? You was the forehandedest of all the Hands, I
guess."

"Oh," said the captain dryly, "I can pay my way for quite a spell yet,
before I ha'f to look up lodgin's at the poor farm. And that brings up
a leetle matter we might's well discuss right now at the start, Niece
Sarah.

"O' course," the old man went on placidly, "you air my only livin'
relative, Sarah. If I should drag my anchor to-night you'd stand to git
sech prop'ty as I might die possessed of. But a straight out and out
understanding, even betwixt kith and kin, is the only way to fend off
friction. I want, if I won't be crowdin' you an' your folks, Sarah, to
stop along o' you instead of tryin' to bach it as so many of us old
salts have to when we leave the sea for good and all. I ain't never
been used to doin' for myself, and I shouldn't know how to tackle the
job. I sh'd be jest as awkward about housework as a whale."

"Well, now, Uncle!" ejaculated Sarah in much perturbation.

"Belay there!" interrupted Cap'n Jonah. "I ain't finished payin' out
my line yet. What I want to know is, will you board an' lodge me,
and do for me as the sayin' is, an' for how much a month? I ain't no
millionaire, as I tell you, but I have always paid my shot an' I allus
calc'late to while there's any shot left in the locker."

Sarah's smile fairly dripped honey again. Orrin's expression of
countenance changed so suddenly that it must have hurt him. Tom looked
relieved.

"Well, now, Uncle!" his niece again ejaculated as though the subject of
money was quite a painful one.

And it was. She was in a nervous flutter for fear she would not tax the
old sea captain all that he would possibly stand. The thought of fixing
his monthly stipend below the figure Uncle Jonah might be willing to
pay was positively torturing to Sarah's mind.

Yet, for a very good reason, she wished to appear generous to her
relative. Not only might it be true that Cap'n Jonah was wealthy, but
that old note given by her father for two thousand dollars might still
be in existence. She must show herself liberal to her uncle, for she
might yet have to plead for mercy. It was true that she was Cap'n
Jonah's natural heiress, but he possibly had not made his will in her
favor (she determined to find that out immediately) and it would never
do to display a nature too grasping in the interim.

"I don't expect you to cramp yourself none, Sarah," Cap'n Jonah said.
"That's a mighty nice room Pearly give me."

"She done jest what I would have done myself if I'd been to home,"
murmured Sarah Petty.

"I like it 'cause it's nothin' at all like the close quarters of a
ship's cabin."

"It's our very best room, Uncle Jonah," she added. "I'm glad you like
it."

Secretly she could have shaken Pearl Holden for ever putting the old
man in that chamber. There was one over the kitchen, in the ell, that
would have been good enough for him, and probably pleased him quite as
well. What did an old sailor like him want of such nice quarters?

"Well, I tell you how 'tis, Uncle Jonah," she said aloud and at length.
"Orrin and me ain't none too rich, as you can see. We have to stretch
ends sometimes to make 'em meet. In the summer when I let out that best
chamber I get six dollars a week for it from city folks that come down
here to the Cape. It's quite a help. That's six dollars a week with
board, of course. I should have to charge extry for wash and mendin'
and the like----"

"Whatever!" exploded Cap'n Jonah, and he would have changed color had
his countenance not been burned so deeply that a surge of blood into
it made little difference in its hue.

"But if you don't mind sleepin' in another room, Uncle Jonah, supposin'
I had a chance to let that best one at a good price, I'd be only too
glad to take you in for two dollars less a week--say twenty dollars
a month," Sarah hastened to say. "The wash and mendin' we'd consider
later. I wouldn't want it to seem at all like I was gouging a relative,
Uncle Jonah. But ev'rything does cost so much nowadays that I tell you,
free and frank, we have to figger even what it costs to keep a cat."

"Have to depend on mousetraps, I do suppose," murmured the old mariner.
"I can see it's close sailin' for you to get along, Sarah. Wal! if
that's the best you can do, I'll agree. Twenty dollars a month it is."

"And washin' extry," added Sarah, her little green eyes sparking. She
was not after all altogether sure that she had not underrated what
Cap'n Jonah would have paid. Still, she was getting a five-week month's
board out of him at the price she had set; and he certainly must be
good for fifty cents a week wash money.

She saw that his blue suit, though wrinkled and well worn, was of an
excellent quality of cloth. His hat was a good one, too, and his stick
was a fine Malacca cane with a gold top to it. He wore a heavy cable
watchchain of gold, and when he drew, out the timepiece it proved to
be a valuable, if ancient, one.

"Now, I reckon I'll turn in, if it's all the same to you folks," Cap'n
Jonah said, seeing the lateness of the hour. "I sha'n't need no rockin'
to put me to sleep. We'll talk more to-morrow," and he started for the
front of the house.

Sarah had been taking sharp note of his footgear.

"I'm sartain pleased to see that you wear middlin' light boots, Uncle
Jonah," she said pointedly. "I never let Orrin nor Tom go through the
house 'cept in their stockin' feet or their slippers. Men's boots is
that trackin'."

"Oh, I'll take heed of your decks when you've jest holystoned 'em,
Sarah," Cap'n Jonah rejoined easily.

This pleased Pearl. It seemed that the old captain was not to be easily
nagged. He went off cheerfully after bidding them good-night.

"Well," said Sarah, "we'll get something out of him, anyway. He can't
be an absolute pauper. And I'll soon have him out o' that best room and
into where he belongs."

"Have a care, Sarah. Have a care," advised Orrin Petty. "He's a
quiet-talkin' man. Mebbe he's got more cash than he's willin' to tell
about. We don't want to rile him."

"If he was rich as cream I wouldn't have him messin' up my best
bedroom for long. I tell you that, now, Orrin Petty!" Then she turned
on Tom with one of her sudden, birdlike motions. "Where's that Ladies
Aid money I give you, Tom, to buy that lamp with at the Harwich
Emporium, and you never done it? I sartain sure thought you could do
that for me while I was visitin' with your A'nt Poley Heath."

"I tell you they didn't have no more of the kind you women picked out
for the chapel," growled Tom, stuffing his pipe from his father's
tobacco pouch. "Have 'em in again next month."

"Well, gi'me the money."

"Let a feller light his pipe, won't you?" growled Tom, getting up to
take a spill from the vase on the mantelpiece, and proceeding to ignite
it at the lamp. Then as his mother's attention was diverted by some
household matter, he slipped out of the door.

* * * * *

The captain did not go directly to bed. He sat by his window, of which
he had opened wide the blinds, much to his niece's rage and disgust. He
looked out into the soft darkness that had now settled down on sea and
land.

A red light sparked, went out, sparked again. That was the revolving
lamp at the lighthouse on The Neck, the narrow strip of land which
stretched a defense between the Haven and the open sea. Nearer were
the lamps of other dwellings. The surf sighed along the Beaches, beyond
Cap'n Abe's store.

"It does seem," murmured Cap'n Jonah, rather enigmatically, "that the
sea and the air and the peaceful land air more to be depended on than
folks. Most folks, at least. Howsomever, that there Pearly gal----"

He heard her voice on the porch below his window. She must have come
outside to rest and cool off after washing the supper dishes. The
incense of burning tobacco rose to his nostrils, and then Tom Petty
said:

"Well, you needn't blame me, Pearly. _I_ didn't keep you from going
along of us to that blamed cattle show. You didn't miss much. I wish I
hadn't gone myself."

"Why, didn't you have a good time?" Pearl Holden asked. There was
weariness in her tone and not much curiosity.

"By hokey!" exclaimed Tom, "there warn't nothin' there but silly gals,
an' silly cows an' such, and--and cheatin' plays."

"What do you mean? What kind of plays?"

"All kinds of games--an' there warn't none of 'em square, I don't
guess. Pop won a _se_-gar battin' a spike on the head with a maul, to
show how strong he was. But when he tried to smoke the _se_-gar he
mighty near smothered me and Marm and she made him throw it away," and
Tom suddenly chuckled at the remembrance of his father's indignation.

"But there! Considerin' some of 'em, I reckon that test-your-muscle
machine was fair, _se_-gar and all. Others! Well! I made a tarnal fool of
myself, Pearly, and I dunno how I'm goin' to square myself about it,"
he added desperately.

"What did you do, Tom?" the girl asked with more interest.

"Well, there was a feller in an alley there, 'twixt two buildings, and
he'd got a crowd in front of him. The alley was clear behind him and
had a gate at the end; but we didn't notice that at the start. Oh, he
was a slick one!

"Well, he had a little foldin' table, and on it he had three little
tin cups and a pea. He was an awful quick movin' feller--or 'peared
to be--and he told us his hands could move quicker than the eye could
foller."

"So can my hands," interposed Pearl. "I can count beans faster than I
can see 'em."

"Hoh! Listen here!" growled Tom. "It didn't look at first as though
that feller could do what he said. He made some passes with his hands
and said some hocus-pocus over them three cups and the pea, and then he
dared any feller to say under which of the cups the pea was. A feller
in a white hat and them gaiter things they wear over their shoes now,
said right away he knew where it was.

"'How much'll you bet?' says the feller. 'You're a sport, I can
see--and you think you're smart. Say what you'll bet.'

"And after a little urging the feller in the white hat bet two dollars
against the other feller's two dollars, an' sure enough, he did point
out the right cup where the pea was."

"And won two dollars?" gasped Pearl. "Why, Tom! That's gambling--and
it's wicked!"

"It's wicked all right when you lose," grumbled Tom. "But we didn't
lose much first along."

"'We?'" cried Pearl. "You didn't bet, too, Tom?"

"Sh! Don't let the old lady hear you," snapped Tom. "Course I tried it.
I won two dollars, and then I won three. The white-hatted feller was
skinnin' that feller with the cups and the pea every time. You could
see he felt pretty meachin' about it Got all red and flustered-like.
Why, I could spot where he hid that pea just as _e-easy_!"

"And then?" Cap'n Jonah, grinning widely in the dark, heard the girl
gasp.

"Why, we all got excited. There was a dozen or more of us bettin'. That
pea-and-cup feller had a slather of money.

"'You got to give me a chance, boys,' he says. 'Give me a show for my
white alley. This time I'm a-goin' to fool you.'

"And he kep' on like that, urgin' us to bet our pile against his pile.
Why, I could see where he put that pea just as plain! So I went with
the rest. I bet twenty-five dollars--all I'd won and all I had."

"Oh, Tommy Petty!"

"Now, don't you begin," cried Tom hoarsely. "I warn't the only fool.
The feller bet us two to one, and it looked like a sure thing. Some bet
on one cup and some on another; but I knowed just where the pea went,
and I bet on the right one."

"Then you didn't lose, Tom?" murmured Pearl with a relieved sigh.

"I didn't lose honest," growled the young fellow. "That feller with the
pea and the tin cups had been foolin' us all along. He got a heap of
money piled up in front of him--a stack big enough to choke a cow! And
then he just whipped all three of the cups off the table and the pea
warn't under airy one of 'em!

"The white-hatted feller just then saw Dave Milliken, the constable,
comin' and he yelled: 'Cheese it! We'll all get arrested!' and he beat
it down the alley with the pea-and-cup man, who grabbed all the money
and the cups and the foldin' table and stuffed the whole b'ilin' into a
suit case he had ready.

"Why, Pearly! them fellers was through the alley gate and locked it
after 'em before we any of us 'woke up to it that they was in cahoots
and was a couple of sharks. An' we couldn't do a thing!"

"Tom!" gasped the girl. "You lost all your money?"

"Hoh! That wouldn't figger too much," said the young fellow hoarsely.
"But I did more than that. _I lost all the money I had._"

"My goodness, Tom! The Ladies Aid money for the chapel lamp?" Pearl
emitted in horrified staccato.

CHAPTER IV

TOM PETTY REVEALS HIMSELF

Cap'n Jonah's quiet amusement, secured through his unintentional
eavesdropping at the bedroom window, was mixed with a certain
satisfaction in learning the sort of fellow his grand-nephew was. Tom
Petty was evidently "no brighter than the law allows," as the captain
expressed it to himself.

Pearl, he was pleased to see, was just the sort of girl he had believed
her--sympathetic and good, with a strain of old-fashioned piety that
the captain was glad to see had not run out here on the Cape. Nor was
the girl impractical.

Her amazement and horror over the denouement of Tom's story assured
Cap'n Jonah that young Tom was in serious trouble. He had gambled away
money that did not belong to him and it was pretty certain that he had
no resources from which to make good the sum thus squandered.

"Tom Petty!" Pearl said again, "what will your mother say to you?"

"By hokey! if she hears 'bout it, Pearly, she'll near 'bout nail me
to the barn door like a salt haddock. I got to fool her someway; but
how can I? I can keep her from knowing it till about breakfast time
to-morrow morning. Then if I don't pony up that eighteen-seventy-five
that belonged to the Ladies Aid that she's treasurer of--Well, she's
bound to throw a conniption fit and step in it, that's what she'll do!"
concluded the young fellow, both inelegantly and unfilially.

"My goodness!" the girl murmured. "Don't let her know you took the
money, Tom. It's bad enough for you to have gambled. But don't ever let
her know it was with money that wasn't yours. Especially money she'd
trusted you with."

"Aw, cat's foot!" exclaimed Tom. "I wouldn't care so much if the whole
twenty-five dollars was somebody else's money and I didn't have to pay
any of it back."

Captain Jonah Hand certainly was learning what his grand-nephew was.

"But if Marm knows it she'll stew about it, and fuss an' fume till all
git out!"

"Tell your father," suggested Pearl.

"Hoh! Where will he get money to help me--if he would? Marm keeps him
as close--or closer--than she does me."

"Oh!" said Pearl with a sudden change in her tone. "Do you want to
borrow the money to pay back the Ladies Aid?"

"That's what I've got to do, Pearly," Tom said hastily. "I don't mind
the money _I_ lost; but I've got to borrow that eighteen-seventy-five.
No two ways about it. Why! I'd rob a bank 'fore I'd let Marm know about
this."

"Sh!" it was then Pearl's turn to say warningly. "Don't talk so
recklessly, Tom. Who can you borrow of if your father hasn't it?"

"You know mighty well that Pop never has any money that Marm don't keep
strict account of," growled Tom's voice.

"I don't see----"

"By hokey!" ejaculated the young man. "I've a mind to strike the old
codger for a loan."

"Who do you mean?" demanded Pearl.

"This Uncle Jonah of Marm's."

"Tom Petty! You wouldn't?" cried the girl, aghast.

"I tell you I'm desperate, Pearly. And you don't seem to care a dern!"
and Tom's voice seemed actually to foretell tears. "We've been friends
for years, Pearly, and you know well 'nough what I think of you. I'd
dearly love to have you for my gal----"

"Now, Tom! don't talk that-a-way," said Pearl, sharply, and evidently
much worried. Then added: "There must be some way out of your pickle."

"I'd like to know what it is. I've got to get money to satisfy Marm,
or I've got to get out. That's all there is to it. And that's all you
care! Aw, Pearly, I'd just be finished complete if I had to leave you,"
and Tom's voice dropped to a maudlin tone that could not be mistaken.

"Run away!" exclaimed the girl, but apparently responding not at all to
his tender advances. "You wouldn't do _that_?"

"I'm my own man I guess. I'd like to see anybody try to stop me. Hoh!
Unless 'twas a policeman 'long o' losin' that money," added Tom, his
sudden boastfulness evaporating.

"You ought to go to work, Tom," Pearl said thoughtfully. "But you don't
need to run away and break your mother's heart. No. Cap'n Durgin will
give you a berth on the _Tryout_, you know. And if you borrow that
money to pay back the Ladies Aid, you'll have to go to work to earn
money to repay what you borrow."

"I suppose so."

"But, don't you _intend_ to?" demanded the girl sharply.

"Well, I don't know as he'd want it back," said Tom slowly.

"Who are you talkin' about, Tom Petty?" Pearl demanded with sudden
exasperation.

"Uncle Jonah."

"You're not going to Cap'n Hand to borrow money, Tom Petty!" ejaculated
the girl. "You got no call to. It isn't decent--and he just come here."

"Well," whined Tom, "I dunno what to do then."

"You'll borrow it of _me_," said Pearl decisively. "You know I've got
'most twenty dollars saved up--what with picking cranberries last fall
and selling blueberries to the hotel this summer. You know I've got
that money."

"That don't help me none," growled Tom.

"Why not?"

"As long as you've got it, it don't help me," said the lout, already in
a lighter mood.

"I'll get it and give it to you before breakfast time," promised Pearl
briskly. "But you've got to go to work and pay it back 'fore Christmas."

"I ain't goin' with Cap'n Durgin, just the same," grumbled Tom. "He's a
reg'lar driver."

"You can work in the cranberry bogs, then. You'll earn two dollars and
a half a day there," said the practical Pearl.

"Well." If it was a promise, it was given under duress.

Cap'n Jonah heard the screen door click again and the light tap of
Pearl's heels upon the kitchen floor. The girl was coming up to bed.
The old mariner felt some mixed emotions astir within him. He had a
mind for a moment to call the girl into his room and talk to her "like
a Dutch uncle," as he expressed it.

Then he thought of Tom, and his soul was filled with disgust. Tom was
worse than a fool. He had not only allowed himself to be gulled by a
trick that had been in disfavor "when Adam was a boy" (so grumbled the
captain), but he had run squealing to a girl about it and had worked
on that girl's sympathies until she had agreed to help him out of his
predicament.

"And it's in my mind," muttered Cap'n Jonah, as he pulled on a
stockinet nightcap a little later, and got into bed, "that the young
sculpin ain't no idee of ever payin' the gal back her money if she
lends it to him. He's a sweet May blossom, he is! We'll see 'bout
that." But these several discoveries about the Petty household did not
keep Cap'n Jonah Hand awake.

* * * * *

The bell-like note of a bird rising from the clashing cat-tail rushes
was the first sound to assail the waking senses of the newcomer to
the Orrin Petty homestead on the following morning. Cap'n Jonah was
an early riser both because of his advanced years and from habit. He
got out of bed as quietly as a cat. The family was sleeping later than
usual because of the outing the day before.

From long sea going habit the captain was already half dressed. He
doused his head and face in a brimming basin, combed his thinning locks
and beard, and got into his outer garments, even to his hat. Then, with
his shoes in his hand, he stole out of the room and down the stairs.

Cape Cod people have no particular reason for locking their doors. The
tramp was not known in Cardhaven, although Sarah Petty was so given to
using the expression. Cap'n Jonah found the kitchen door unfastened,
and he stepped out, stopping in the porch to pull on his shoes, which
were of the elastic-sided congress variety.

The sun had not yet thrust even his upper rim above the distant
sea-line. When Cap'n Jonah descended the porch steps he waded waist
deep in a blanket of mist which Night had spread upon the earth, and
which Dawn, brisk housekeeper that she was, had not yet rolled up and
laid away.

There was much astir, however, and the stratum of mist carried certain
sounds for long distances. The captain heard Enos Cartright ordering
his old mare, Mehitabel, to "stand over!" in her box stall, as he
faithfully curried her down. Then a mellow "So, boss! So, boss!"
revealed the Widow Shattuck at her pasture bars calling up Sukey to be
milked.

A little later, in the midst of a chanticleer chorus and the hungry
grunting of pigs, the captain, pacing back and forth in the lane, heard
the tinkle of Sukey's milk in the pail as her mistress capably massaged
the cow's udder.

The now wavering mist acted as a transmitter for sounds from greater
distances. He heard voices and the creak of blocks of cordage from the
Haven itself. A fishing boat was putting out. Then the two-leaved door
of Cap'n Abe's store was set wide and he heard the storekeeper drive
home the wedges which held it open.

A sudden flash of red heralded the sun's appearance. All this moving
fog began to glow, rose-colored. It was dissipated rapidly. Out of it
he saw several columns of smoke rising, straight into the air, marking
matutinal fires of neighboring dwellings.

A mighty yawn sounded near at hand. Cap'n Jonah wheeled to see Tom
Petty come stretching and gaping from the kitchen door.

"Well, young man!" said the old mariner briskly.

"Oh! Ah!" exploded Tom, finishing his yawn loudly, arms stretched above
his head. "Morning, Uncle Jonah."

"Good morning to you," replied his elderly relative. "I guess you're
feeling your yest'day's good time some?"

"'Good time'! Hoh!" snorted Tom. "I never want to see another cattle
show."

"Leaves a brown taste in your mouth, does it?" chuckled the captain.
"And drained your pocket as dry as the Desert of Sahara, I bet!"

"Hoh! Who was tellin' you?" demanded Tom, bitten with sudden suspicion.

"I don't have to be told ev'rything--not at my age," chuckled Cap'n
Jonah. "I was young once myself."

He drew a bill-holder from an inner pocket. Tom, who had begun to
scowl, washed that expression hurriedly off his face.

"I guess you know how 'tis, Uncle Jonah," confessed the young fellow,
suppressing a certain eagerness he felt and trying to keep his eyes off
the bill-holder which, if not plethoric, looked to be well filled. "You
know, where ev'rybody else is spendin', you spend more'n you ought to
yourself."

"Just so! Just so!" agreed the captain. He selected a yellow-backed
bill, crisp and crackling, and thrust it suddenly into Tom's itching
palm. "Here's a twenty for you. I never do know what sort o' presents
to buy folks. Get somethin' for yourself or put it away in the bank
as you like. And don't say nothin' to your Pop or Marm about it,"
concluded the shrewd old fellow, with a keen side glance at Tom.

The latter was all but overcome. Relief and gratification momentarily
enlarged his heart to almost the size of a pea.

"By hokey! Uncle Jonah, you're all right!" he murmured, pocketing the
twenty dollar bank note and his freckled face glowing all over. "I'll
never forgit you for this."

He lumbered away toward the barn while the captain continued to "pace
the quarterdeck" along the shaded lane. A little later he saw Tom
talking with Pearl at the barnyard bars.

"I guess I put a spoke in your wheel, young man," thought the captain,
but with a dark look at the loutish Tom.

Pearl came back to the lane to bid Cap'n Jonah good-morning, her sweet
face aglow. Starry-eyed and dimpling, she showed plainly, the old man
thought, her relief on finding that Tom had in some way got out of his
financial difficulty.

When the young fellow paid his mother at the breakfast table, and
before them all, the eighteen-seventy-five he owed her, he produced the
exact change in small bills and silver. It did not cross Cap'n Jonah's
mind to wonder where Tom had got the twenty dollar note changed, so
early in the morning.

CHAPTER V

"BETTER A DINNER OF HERBS"

The day in the Petty household began with bickerings. Sarah Petty
possessed all the nagging power of dropping water. Orrin fulfilled his
own surname in small meannesses. Tom was disobedient and disrespectful
to both parents. All three picked on Pearl.

Although they endeavored to show Cap'n Jonah the smooth side of their
natures--and even Tom remained polite to him--the visitor could not
fail to overhear many things that were not intended for his ears. Nor
was he to be deceived regarding the character of his relatives.

One thing amazed him. The single item in his audit of Tom's character
that placed that young man one degree above an idiot, was the
revelation the evening before of what seemed to be Tom's admiration for
Pearl. The lout had intimated that he desired Pearl for his own.

"And if he loves a gal like her, mebbe there's some good in the scamp,
after all," ruminated Cap'n Jonah.

But this day had not passed before the captain saw so many exhibitions
of meanness on Tom's part in relation to the pretty household drudge
that he began to wonder if his hearing had not played him false on the
previous evening when he had sat at his chamber window and overheard
the conversation between the two young folks.

When Sarah Petty broke out in scolding because of some real or fancied
mistake of Pearl's, Cap'n Jonah expected Tom in some way to express
sympathy with the girl, if he did not defend her. But the lout only
grinned, lit his pipe, and left the house.

Of course, her menfolk were well used to the vitriolic dripping from
Sarah Petty's tongue, and bearing this in silence was perhaps the only
logical way to get along with her. If Tom had a proper feeling for
Pearl, however, the captain did not see how the fellow could listen to
his mother's vituperations addressed to her innocent victim. The girl
deserved no such tongue-lashings as she received, the captain was quite
sure.

He saw Pearl stepping lightly about her tasks--at sink, at stove, at
ironing-board, or what-not--always brisk and ready, and either silent
or with a pleasant word. She made no reply when Mrs. Petty's ill-humor
dripped over like an overfull cup. But Cap'n Jonah missed the smile
from her sweet face.

The old mariner, as he expressed it, "kept out from under foot" as much
as possible. He found that every time he went up to his room, Sarah
Petty was right behind him with brush and pan, ostentatiously dusting
imaginary dirt from the stair carpet. If he opened his window blind to
see in his room, it was shut immediately, and with emphasis, when he
departed. Before this first day was over his niece began sadly to get
upon the captain's nerves.

"The Lord sartainly does temper the wind to the shorn lamb--and to the
man that ain't married," concluded Cap'n Jonah. "If I was Orrin Petty,
I calc'late, I'd purty nigh live in the barn and never come into the
house at all. Or I'd ship for a long v'y'ge."

His sympathy for Orrin could not be deep, however; for Orrin Petty
possessed ways fully as unpleasant as those of his wife. His
penuriousness and his suspicion were raised to the _nth_ power, and his
curiosity made him a pest.

"I calc'late you seen many a chance't to turn a dollar over in them
furrin' parts you was to, Cap'n Jonah," Orrin said. "Jest how did you
do it?"

"Wal, for the most part, I passed one dollar from one pants pocket to
the other. If I came out even I was lucky, most times. Speculatin'
ain't what it's cracked up to be. Most money that I ever got my hands
on to I airned by the sweat of my brow--yes, sir!"

"Tradin' in them furrin' countries I allus heard would fetch two or
three hundred per cent.," Orrin went on obstinately.

"Ye-as. You'll hear a good many fool idees if you stretch your ears
to ketch ev'ry sound. If it was so, there'd be more millionaires in
Chinese waters than they tell me there is in Pittsburgh."

He refused to be drawn like a badger from his hole, and Orrin showed
disappointment. He had the itch for making money, and any man who made
it (as he believed Uncle Jonah had) by using his wits, was an object of
keen envy to Orrin Petty.

Besides, in this case, Orrin had a personal reason for desiring to know
the particulars of Cap'n Jonah's fortune.

"Le's see, Cap'n Jonah, you made your final investments nearer home
than China, didn't you?" he asked as they smoked after dinner on the
side porch. "You never come clear across't the world and left your
investments in furrin parts, did you?"

"'Hem!" ejaculated Cap'n Jonah. "No. As I might say, I didn't."

"Wal, now, what did you conclude was a good, safe investment? Sarah an'
me might have a little spare money some day, and I reckon the lead of a
successful man like you would be a good one to foller."

"No. I wouldn't want to advise no other man in a matter of
speculation," said Cap'n Jonah bruskly.

But Orrin was not to be put off. The more the old mariner tried to
evade, the more Orrin was convinced that Cap'n Jonah had "made his
pile" and did not want anybody to know the means he had fortunately set
upon to become wealthy.

In his own heart the penurious Orrin Petty knew that if he made a
successful turn in business he would be loath to tell anybody else how
he did it.

"Now, Cap'n Jonah," he urged with his wry grin and slyly twinkling eye,
"jest put a name to it. Jest name one thing that you put money into."

Cap'n Jonah looked at him steadily for a moment. His mahogany face was
very grim indeed.

"Ile," he croaked at last.

"'Ile'?" repeated Orrin, eagerly. "Not whalin'?"

"Ile stocks," explained Cap'n Jonah gruffly.

"Wha--what's them?" stammered Mr. Petty.

"Sheers in ile wells, or in the land where ile wells is supposed to be."

"Goshamighty! Do they git ile out'n the ground?" ejaculated Orrin. "I
thought they got it from whales, an' codfish livers, and castor beans."

"I don't understand much about it," said Cap'n Jonah glumly.

"But is them ile shares good things to put money in?"

Cap'n Jonah stared at him again under penthouse brows. At last he said:

"Wal--no. I couldn't recommend 'em. I wouldn't advise any man about any
speculation, as I said afore."

His pipe had gone out. Cap'n Jonah was not much of a smoker. He got up
and walked away from the disappointed Orrin. Cap'n Jonah's face was
very grim as he paced down the lane. Finally:

"Whatever! I was sore tempted--I sartainly was. If that scalawag has
got any money laid up--he and Sarah--I b'lieve I could saw off them ile
sheers on to him easy.

"And s'arve him right," pursued Cap'n Jonah. "The feller that sold 'em
to me was mighty glad to git rid of 'em, I don't dispute. I bit, and
bit good. And I'd rayther like to see Orrin Petty swaller hook, line,
and sinker same's I did, I vow!"

However that might be, curiosity and cupidity urged Orrin Petty to
ask a question of the Paulmouth Bank cashier that very afternoon when
he went to make a deposit in his own and Sarah's name. In a small way
Orrin was considered a good customer by the bank. He made frequent
deposits, and he never took a penny out.

"What are oil stocks worth, Mr. Petty?" repeated the cashier in reply
to a question on that point. "Why, some I might mention are to-day
quoted--provided you could buy them--at six hundred and seventy. That
is five hundred and seventy dollars above par."

"Goshamighty!" murmured the wonderstruck Orrin. "An' suppose that old
codger was foxy enough to buy 'em at a hundred? I bet he did!"

He did not hear the cashier's additional information: "And some of them
are not worth the paper they are printed on."

This day was not ended for Cap'n Jonah before he came to one conclusion
that would color his opinion of his relatives and his future
intercourse with them, whether he was rich or poor.

The laws of the Medes and the Persians were no more unbreakable than
certain housekeeping rules in Sarah Petty's house. Ironing day followed
wash day as surely as the day dawned. Since immediately after the early
breakfast Pearl had been standing at the ironing board in the hot
kitchen, save when the board must be put aside for the serving of the
dinner.

Midafternoon came, and the girl was still at the board, wielding the
heavy irons. Her pretty face was flushed, but there was a white line
about her mouth that Cap'n Jonah could see from his chair in the
shaded porch. Her hair clung in damp clusters of curls about her brow.
There was a strained expression in her dark eyes, and they were deep,
smoldering pools of flame. The girl was overtired and her nerves were
almost at the breaking point.

No offer did Sarah Petty make to help her little drudge. She puttered
about certain light household duties and superintended the boiling
of the pork and cabbage for dinner. But she did not lift her hand to
lighten Pearl's task.

Her tongue was seldom still in fault-finding. There are housekeepers
_and_ housekeepers. Sarah Petty was one of the other kind! Nobody could
be clean enough, or exact enough, to suit her. Every piece she saw
Pearl iron could be done better; nor was her uncomplaining serving maid
that paragon which Sarah considered she should be.

As the mounds of smoothly ironed bed and table linen, with windrows
of towels and piles of garments, rose, Sarah's voice rose likewise in
snarling criticism.

There was no chair in the kitchen that was not occupied by the smoothed
pieces. Tom Petty lumbered in to fill and light his pipe and grinned
knowingly at Pearl.

"Ain't you got through yet, Pearly? By hokey! but you're takin' your
time about a little old mess o' clothes."

Pearl would not reply to this attempted pleasantry.

"What's the matter--mad?" asked the jovial Tenn, pointing a tentative
finger to lift Pearl's drooping chin. "You ain't mad with me, are you,
Pearly?"

"You get away from me, Tom Petty!" gasped the girl, starting back, the
heavy iron poised in her hand.

"By hokey! I believe you'd swipe me one with that iron!" crowed the
lout, in much apparent fear.

In retreating he fell against a chair. The neatly piled pillow slips
upon it toppled to the floor. His mother entered the kitchen just in
season to spy this disaster.

"There! You plagued, good-for-nothin', useless gal!" she shrieked.
"Them pillow slips all over the floor 'count o' your foolin' with Tom.
He can't come into the house but you haf to leave your work to have
some game with him. I could box your ears!"

Tom ran laughing out of the kitchen. He made no effort to defend Pearl
from his mother's undeserved wrath.

"Now, Miss!" Sarah Petty continued, scrambling the overturned linen up
anyway, some slightly soiled from contact with Tom's muddy boots, but
all ruffled and wrinkled. "Now, Miss! You can just have the pleasure of
washin' an' ironin' them over again. You wash 'em to-night after supper
an' hang 'em out; and if they ain't ironed and in the linen closet by
to-morrow noon, you'll hear from me, you lazybones!"

She went away, grumbling, with a pile of ironed clothes. Cap'n Jonah
heard Pearl sigh, then sob, then sigh again. The girl's spirit was
broken. The old mariner drew forth his never-failing comforter--the
silver snuff-box. He rapped it with his knuckle, snapped open the
cover, and took a huge pinch.

"Achoo!" he rasped, then muttered: "That Bible feller got it right:
Better a dinner of herbs and a little peace. Whatever! a person might's
well live with a live tagger as with Sarah Petty."

CHAPTER VI

ROMANCE AND PEARL HOLDEN

Cap'n Jonah Hand was gregarious by nature. He had spent many solitary
hours at sea, but not from choice. The master of a good-sized craft can
favor his mate and sub-officers with little of his company and his crew
none at all.

Off duty he had spent many many hours playing that favorite solitaire
of the lonely mariner "Push"--a game which "comes out" about once in
five hundred times. Now that he was ashore with human beings within
hail, the retired seaman wasted no time in such a poor substitute for
sociability.

Finding the Petty family so uncongenial and Pearl usually too busy to
pass more than the time of day with him, Cap'n Jonah lay in wait at
the mouth of the lane like a huge brown and blue ant-lion waiting for
passing Shell Road folk to fall into his conversational trap.

Washy Gallup, wheeling his barrow laden with the innumerable turns of
a well corked seine, was easily persuaded to drop the barrow handles,
seat himself on one of them and push back from his weather-beaten face
the battered tarpaulin he affected on week days, preparatory to "a dish
of gossip."

"Wal, Cap'n," began Washy, "what do you think of Cardhaven an'
Cardhaven folks as fur as you've gone?"

The captain's eyes twinkled. "I'm a good deal like the feller that
allus walked backwards. Then he didn't have to give an opinion in
advance. I dunno as I could tell you yet, Mr. Gallup, how the place nor
the people strike me, by and large."

"I figger you're a cautious man, Cap'n Hand," said Washy with a shrewd
nod. "Orrin was sayin' down to Cap'n Abe's last night he reckoned you
had made all the money a man ought to make, out there in the China
Seas."

"Orrin Petty holds a good opinion of his own jedgment, I allow,"
replied the captain grimly.

It was almost uncanny how the talk of most people who paused to speak
to him slipped around to money matters. Cap'n Beecher, leaning on his
cane at the roadside, dropped his plummet into Cap'n Jonah's financial
waters.

"You calc'late to settle down here, Cap'n Hand, don't ye?" he asked,
mopping his brow with a brilliant bandana.

"I calc'late."

"Glad to hear it," said the one-time master of the clipper-built
_Ivanhoe_. "We need jest sech solid men as you, Cap'n Hand, at this
end of the town to balance t'other end with the board of selectmen.
Why! we can't ever git street lights this side o' the Mariner's Chapel.
Was you thinkin' of buyin' property here, Cap'n? For a home, _or_ an
investment? For if you be," Cap'n Joab hastened to add, "I got some
likely lots adjoining my own place that I'd like to have you cast an
eye on."

"Thank ye," said the new arrival in the Shell Road neighborhood, dryly.
"If I decide to buy I'll let you know."

'Liathel Grummit, humped over on his seat, dragged past behind his
patient steers a dripping load of seaweed mounded high upon the
two-wheeled cart. 'Liathel owned a small and scrubby farm on which
he raised vegetables, much poverty grass, and an astonishing crop of
tow-headed children.

"Ye-a, Buck! Ye-a, Bright!" he intoned, cracking the long whip-lash
before the spotted faces of the steers. They came to a lumbering halt.
"You air Cap'n Hand, I don't dispute?"

"It's as good a name as any. But I've left the sea for all time, and I
ain't no more a skipper," replied the captain, indicating that he was
no stickler for quarterdeck formalities now that he was a landsman.

"So I was informed," said 'Liathel politely. "But I didn't jest know
whether you was thinkin' of settin' up for yourself around here? If you
be, and if you do, I'd like to sell you a pair of late shoats I got.
You'll want a pig or two to help eat your table scraps. An' my wife,
Miz Grummit, has some yearling fowls she'd be glad to dispose of if you
was calc'latin' to keep hens."

"Whatever!" gasped Cap'n Jonah. "Do you folks think I'm an open market
for all the surplus of this here town? I ain't no idee of keeping pigs,
nor yet poultry. I'm obleeged to you, but you ain't got a thing I'm in
need of, I do assure you."

"All right, Cap'n. No offense meant. No offense taken. Ye-ip, Buck!
Ye-ip, Bright!"

The long whip snapped again. The placid steers, chewing their cuds and
swaying their bodies rhythmically, plodded on up the white road. Cap'n
Jonah watched the sunshine sparkle in the pool that had dripped from
the load of seaweed. He shook his head.

"Whatever!" he said, repeating his favorite ejaculation. "This here
determination to turn a penny is the curse o' the Cape, just as it
always was. I bet even the preachers think in terms of dollars and
cents.

"And they are going to pester me purty nigh to death about my fortune.
I can see that, as the feller said when he saw stars. Now them ile
sheers! I swan to man! I b'lieve I could make a bit on them, let alone
turn 'em over. Get thee behind me, Satan! Whew!" and the captain
removed his hat and passed the silk handkerchief over his brown
face. "Whatever! I don't wonder there's so many sharks an' dogfish at
loose ends--an' pea-an'-shell game men, too," and he chuckled. "The
sucker-fish must bite more voracious than any other kind.

"'Hem! Here's a feller might tell me if that's so."

He saw the tall figure of Helmford approaching. The usual smile upon
the young government employee's face had a rueful cast just now. He
answered Cap'n Jonah's hail, however, with equal cordiality and, like
every other passer-by, stopped to pass the time of day.

"This is one large day--and plenty of it, Captain," he said. "How do
you feel?"

"I fare pretty well," responded Cap'n Jonah; "only there's somethin' in
the j'ints of my knees that makes 'em creak like a wood snatch block
when I try to swing 'em. How air you, Mr. Helmford?"

"Why, Captain Hand, I'm like to be cast out into the cold world. The
Cardhaven Inn closes for the season, and I don't know where I'm to look
for a boarding place."

"Sho!" exclaimed the old mariner. "Aren't boardin' places plenty 'round
here?"

"In the summer--yes. Almost everybody takes boarders. But the women are
not so ready to take in a stranger during the winter. It makes too many
menfolk around the house. Then there is the heating to be considered,
as well as extra food, when fresh vegetables and even a plentiful
supply of fresh fish are not available."

"I see, I see," agreed the captain. "Codfish and potaters don't suit
the city appetite, eh?"

"I should not be afraid of plain food," declared Helmford. "I was born
on a farm. And I'd like to get board down this way. It's nearer my
plant."

"The place where you teach fish to hatch their aigs?"

The young fellow laughed a little. "If you hear of a boarding place for
me, Captain Hand----"

The captain's eyes were twinkling. He was scrutinizing young Helmford
much more sharply than appeared to be the case.

"Ahem!" he said, clearing his throat reflectively. "Why don't you try
Sarah?"

"'Sarah'?"

"Yep. My niece."

"Mrs. Petty?"

"That's who I mean. She ain't averse, I should say, to turning a penny.
Try her."

"Why, I will!" he exclaimed. "And thank you, Captain. I can go right in
and see her now, can't I?"

"I spect you can," said Cap'n Jonah. "There ain't no law again' it that
I know on."

Helmford laughed and started immediately up the lane. Where it
debouched into the yard he came upon Pearl hanging out certain couch
covers and hangings to air, this being sweeping day. Her head was
tightly banded with a towel for a dustcap. The face under such a turban
must be pretty indeed to attract favorable attention.

"I beg pardon, Miss Holden," Helmford said, doffing his cap. "Can I see
Mrs. Petty for a moment?"

"I guess you can," said the girl, dimpling and showing marked approval
of the young man. She had seen him at a distance often before; but
Joseph Helmford had never seen her, for Pearl's face was usually hidden
in public by a sun-bonnet.

"Thank you," murmured he, and for once he did not appear to be blind.
He bowed a second time. Pearl looked at him with shining eyes. Was he
about to say something more? It would not be polite to run away before
he had said all he wished to say.

A harsh voice suddenly broke the thread between them: "You, Pearl!
If that's a book agent tell him we don't want no books. If it's a
missionary collector tell him we've subscribed already. If it's one o'
them nursery stock salesmen, jest unloose the dog onto _him_."

Helmford's eyes widened during this tirade. Then he began to smile.
Pearl giggled faintly, and, turning, fled. "I'll splain to her," she
whispered over her shoulder.

Mrs. Petty came rampantly to the door. Her head was tied up in a towel,
too--the universal sign of sweeping day on the Cape.

"Can't you git rid----"

"Sh!" gasped Pearl.

"'Tain't a minister?" hissed Mrs. Petty.

"No. It's Mr. Helmford, the fish man."

"_Fish_ man?" demanded the woman, still raucously. "What do we want o'
fish, I'd like to know? Can't your Uncle Orrin an' Tom git us all the
fish we need?"

"Oh, Miz Petty!" cried Pearl. "He is the government fish man, Mr.
Helmford."

"Oh!"

Sarah Petty began to comprehend that possibly the well dressed man in
the yard was not one to be chased back to the roadway as though he were
pariah. She assumed a doubtful smirk and stepped out on the porch to
blink near-sightedly at the caller.

"Captain Hand suggested, Mrs. Petty," Helmford began, drawing near,
"that you might consider taking me to board. You know the Cardhaven Inn
closes now, and I would prefer living down this way. It is nearer to
the hatchery."

"Oh! Yes! I see! You're the young man they say hatches fish up Salt
Creek way," said Mrs. Petty doubtfully. "I--hum! I dunno. These
fishermen allus do bring such a smell of fish home on their clo'es. I
make Orrin an' Tom change their duds in the shed when they have been
handlin' their seine or the lobster pots. I dunno."

"I assure you, Mrs. Petty," Helmford said, hiding his amusement, "that
my work at the fish hatchery leaves no odor upon my clothing. I am
counted, I believe, rather neat and--er--'old-maidish,' they called me
at college."

"Wal! I dunno! I couldn't cater to fussy folks," objected Mrs. Petty,
who felt it became her position in the community to yield only after
proper urging. "We're plain folks an' eat plain food----"

"I ask for nothing better," Helmford said.

His eyes were fixed on Pearl, who had returned to her task of pinning
the cretonne covers to the clothesline. As she had passed him again
the young man felt an indefinable attraction which caused his gaze
to follow her. He noted her litheness, the turn of her limbs, the
flowerlike sweetness of her expression of countenance--all for the
first time. Joe Helmford was not given much to the observation of
women. But this girl made an impression--indefinite, perhaps, at
first--that he was destined to carry with him.

"I ask for nothing better," he repeated, dragging his attention back to
the sharp-featured Mrs. Petty.

"Wal, I dunno!" the latter said again. "Course I _could_ take ye in,
Mr. Helmford. I have room. And with Uncle Jonah here I haf to figger on
one extry plate at table--and two wouldn't be so much more bother. But
I dunno as my 'commodations would please ye."

"Let me be the judge of that, Mrs. Petty," the young man urged.

"I can show ye the best chamber," Sarah said. "Come right upstairs
with me." Here was a chance to get Uncle Jonah out of the big and
comfortable room. And an additional six dollars a week to the family
exchequer was not to be overlooked. Visions of financial benefit danced
in the woman's mind. She even considered adding an extra half dollar to
the price when Helmford praised the room, but then thought better of it
as the winter was coming on, only saying:

"If you want a fire in here, Mr. Helmford, there's a pipehole in the
chimney. But you'll haf to furnish your own stove and coal. We keep a
settin'-room fire in the coldest weather; but you'll find it chilly up
here."

"I see," agreed the young man. "I think I shall be satisfied, Mrs.
Petty. I agree to the terms. When can I have my books and trunk sent
over?"

"Any time you like. I'll just put fresh sheets on the bed. You can
sleep here to-night," said the woman, grimly satisfied that Cap'n Jonah
was to be so soon ousted to the room over the kitchen.

With no idea that he was making the genial captain any trouble,
Helmford paid Sarah Petty for the week in advance (a custom that
pleased her vastly) and, assured that he had secured better lodgings
than he had expected to find, the young man departed.

From the sitting-room window, behind the lace curtains, Pearl watched
him go. She hoped he would return. He was entirely different from the
young men whom she saw daily at the store or at the Mariner's Chapel
when she went to service. Helmford was out of quite another world from
that with which Pearl Holden was familiar. Her gaze followed him down
the lane and out to the Shell Road, the glare of which swallowed him
up.

CHAPTER VII

GETTING ACQUAINTED

Joseph Helmford overtook Cap'n Jonah making his way by easy stages down
the Shell Road toward that landmark, A. Silt's general store. It was
for the most part a drab landscape in this direction, for the crops
were out of the few cultivated fields and the sand lots lacked even the
color vouchsafed them in summer.

The white shaft of the lighthouse on the Neck stood out against a
tumbled mass of slate colored clouds on the horizon. That cloudbank
foretold wind if not rain storms. The ocean was restive over Gull
Rocks, that danger spot of all danger spots along the hook of the Cape.
Seldom a winter passed that one unfortunate craft did not beat its life
out upon the treacherous reef. The bones of many such, like the ribs of
prehistoric monsters, were outthrust from the sands along the Neck.

To the left lay the crescent length of The Beaches. The Shell Road
curved beyond Cap'n Abe's store and climbed to the bluffs that overhung
The Beaches, bordered with the more or less ornate summer dwellings of
city visitors.

"It's a purty sight," observed Cap'n Jonah, "even on a lowering day
like this. So Sarah's took you on, has she?" he added more briskly.
"She'll be signing on a full crew before long, I don't dispute."

"I shall be glad to be one of your family, Captain," Helmford made
reply.

"I dunno how you'll like it, but we'll hope for the best," Cap'n
Jonah observed, dryly. "But, le's see! Who's this in one o' them
rattle-te-bang gas-buggies? She looks like a steam tug makin' heavy
weather of it."

"Dr. Ambrose," said Helmford, quickly. "And his sister, Miss Sue. I
have an idea the doctor has been over to the new Tapp house on the
point. There's been an interesting event there recently, and instead of
sending for a specialist from Boston or the like, the young couple were
satisfied to have Doctor Ambrose officiate at the mundane appearance of
what Cap'n Abe calls 'the last Tapp'--meaning the latest Tapp."

"Whatever!" ejaculated Cap'n Jonah. "I hear you sayin' something, but
I'll be keelhauled if I know what 'tis! 'Hem! So this is the doctor, is
it?"

The old runabout, rattling in its throat like a dying man, came to a
halt beside the two pedestrians. Doctor Ambrose, in a much stained
linen duster, peered out at them over a bushy beard.

"'Lo, Mr. Helmford," he said. "How are the eels and pollywogs? Isn't
that a stranger you have in tow? I'm always drumming up trade," and he
shook in his seat with laughter till the springs of the car wheezed
again.

Cap'n Jonah, looking him over, smiled grimly. "If you've done better
than any other medical shark I ever heard of, I'll come to see you
about my rheumatics," he said. "But if you air still stickin' to
salicylate of sody, I reckon I'll dose myself from my own medicine
chist."

"You old sea-dogs ought all to write M.D. and D.S. after your names,"
responded Doctor Ambrose. "I take it you are Cap'n Hand? Make the
acquaintance of my sister, Cap'n."

The retired mariner's glance had quickly shifted to the woman beside
the rough-and-ready country practitioner. She was petite and graceful,
and was dressed much more becomingly and more richly than most Cape
women are. Her silvering hair was arranged very prettily, each strand
laid exactly, and her quiet, cheerful face blushed under the brim of
her hat like an old-fashioned rose.

"Cap'n Hand, Sue," rumbled on the doctor. The captain bowed in his most
courtly way and accepted her neatly gloved hand in his huge brown one,
where it settled for a moment like a snowflake on a clod.

"I am glad to welcome you among us, Cap'n Hand," Miss Sue said
demurely. "We are not alone glad to have a new neighbor, but we are
glad to welcome another attendant at the chapel. I have already
learned--in fact, Mr. 'Liphalet Truitt told me," and she flushed the
deeper--"that you are a church-going man, Cap'n Hand."

"Yes, ma'am," said Cap'n Jonah. "I calc'late to turn out for service on
Sunday whenever I can. I shall be glad to attend chapel, an' thank you
kindly, ma'am."

"Hi gorry!" said the doctor suddenly. "Here comes 'Liphalet now--and
with a face on him like a gargoyle. I don't know what's got into the
fellow lately. Likely he needs a good course of jalap."

Mr. Truitt approached with his basket, headed storeward for provisions.
'Liphalet was a brisk, compact figure of a man--neat, light stepping,
and with an appearance of deftness. His whole personality and manner
bespoke the capable ship's steward.

"Mornin', Miss Sue! Mornin', gentlemen!" was his greeting, and he would
have passed right along had Doctor Ambrose not halted him with:

"You going to do what I advised you, 'Liphalet? If any fellow's liver
ever needed a course of sprouts, yours does. For weeks now you've been
as sluggish as a frozen stream runnin' uphill. You'd better change your
tactics or you won't blow that old fife of yours half the night, as
I've been hearin' you, of late."

"'Liphalet doesn't play a fife, Sam," said Miss Sue softly. "It's a
flute."

"Same thing," snorted the doctor, eyeing the scowling Mr. Truitt with
composure. "If he doesn't tend to himself as I tell him he'll have the
undertaker stopping at his door instead of my flivver."

"I ain't sure, Doc," said the ex-steward harshly, "but I'd near 'bout
have the undertaker come. I'd expect him, anyway, after a few of your
visits."

"Hi gorry!" chortled Doctor Ambrose, who could take a joke as well as
make one, "you've got me there, 'Liphalet. And that's about the first
sarcastic observation you ever made. I believe your liver's at the
bottom of _that_."

"Now, Sam!" urged gentle Miss Sue, with a hand on her brother's arm.
Then to Mr. Truitt: "I hope we'll see you at the Christmas committee
meeting next time, 'Liphalet."

His reply was scarcely audible to the group as he started on again. To
cover the grouchy ex-steward's retreat, Doctor Ambrose struggled out
from behind the steering wheel to crank up. At once his sister hopped
out on the other side.

"She's bound to do that every time I crank the old wheezer," chuckled
the physician. "She expects it to back up, or start ahead, or cut some
other dido if she's in the thing alone."

The engine started with a snort. In a moment the whole car was
throbbing. Before climbing in again Miss Sue said to Cap'n Jonah:

"I suppose I shall find Pearl at home, Captain? We were about to stop
at Mrs. Petty's so that I might speak to her. Pearl is one of the very
nicest girls in my class."

"She 'pears to be a mighty nice gal," Cap'n Jonah agreed with
enthusiasm.

Now that Miss Sue was out of the car the captain eyed her with even
greater approval. Her silk gown of broad black and white stripes, the
pretty hat, even her slate-colored silk stockings and suede shoes,
struck Cap'n Jonah as being the prettiest and most suitable costume for
a woman to wear.

"The Doc's sister is a spankin' looking craft," said Cap'n Jonah
admiringly, as the car snorted away.

"She's a lovely lady," agreed Joseph Helmford. "And a good deal of a
catch, they say, Captain. They tell me she's got forty thousand dollars
in her own right."

"For--ty--thou--sand? Whatever!"

"Of course, that's a mere bagatelle to a man of your fortune," added
Helmford with twinkling eyes. "But it's been enough during the past ten
years to make almost every widower and old bachelor on this part of the
Cape sit up and take notice, as Cap'n Abe would say."

"Hem! And they ain't none of 'em caught her yet?"

"Nor her forty thousand dollars," added Helmford dryly. "You see, she's
more than a lovely lady. She's a wise one."

"Whatever!" ejaculated Cap'n Jonah, agreeing.

* * * * *

The gold-banded china appeared on the Petty table at supper that
evening in honor of Mr. Helmford's coming. Pearl put on a fresh gingham
and even Mrs. Petty brought forth a ruffled apron and assumed her best
company manners.

Tom had of course met Joe Helmford at the store and elsewhere; and
embracing the frequent country doctrine that all city folk are bound
to have "some of their buttons loose," he looked upon the man from the
fish hatchery as two-parts fool and the other part "dumb lucky to be
able to wear such good clothes!"

Helmford was a likable and sociable fellow. He had the knack of getting
on with most people, and he had been in the community long enough to
learn how best to appeal to the Cape natives. He knew they frequently
had a philosophical turn of mind, looked out on life at a rather
peculiar angle, but were not lacking in shrewdness and common sense.

Cap'n Jonah he liked from the first. Orrin and Sarah's peculiarities he
was prepared to overlook. Tom he had not an iota of interest in. Pearl
he watched with more concern than he had ever felt for a girl before.

Yet this concern was no deeper than the superficial pleasure he felt in
seeing her move gracefully about, in watching the changing expressions
play upon her pretty features, and in speculating as to just what there
was beneath that crown of beautiful hair, which she seemed to have a
natural taste in dressing.

It must be confessed that this attraction for Mr. Joe Helmford, such as
it was, was entirely physical. He had not lived at Cardhaven for eight
months or more without having been introduced to a good many girls.
He was an outsider, and therefore a person keenly interesting to most
young women of the community. For girls who do not meet many men are
prone to think that men from afar are better than the local swains.

Helmford's lack of interest in women was not his only reason for
passing these girls over lightly. There were some in Cardhaven,
perhaps, as pretty as Pearl Holden; but they possessed nothing but
prettiness to recommend them. And Helmford happened to be a young man
who required something more than personal beauty to hold his interest.

Pearl's gifts of form and feature were her only attraction, he
presumed, as had been the case with those other girls he had met. When
she opened her pretty lips it was often to use expressions and terms
of speech which amused him but which seemed to imply that Pearl was of
another world than his.

So little Pearl's attraction for the new boarder remained of small
consequence, after all. He was polite to her, as he was to Mrs. Petty.
But he noted Tom's hobbledehoy attentions to the girl, and merely
shrugged his shoulders.

Yet Helmford could not keep his gaze from following her. She had
a purely physical attraction for him; Helmford was too much of a
gentleman to build any closer fellowship with the girl upon such an
unstable foundation.

Cap'n Jonah, shrewd as he was in his judgment of human beings, could
not fully appreciate Helmford's feelings. He liked the young fellow
from the first time he had met him at Cap'n Abe's store. He thought
Pearl deserved a much better "fellow," as the term was, than Tom Petty.
He saw no incongruity in the idea of this man from the outside world
and little Pearl being mutually attracted to each other.

In truth, there was a matchmaking streak in Cap'n Jonah's character.

After supper Helmford started out on some adventure of his own and
Cap'n Jonah excused himself from the family with the intention of going
to his room. As he started for the front hall Sarah Petty cleared her
throat.

"Ahem! You'll git to your room a sight easier if you take the back
stairs, Uncle Jonah. I had to let Mr. Helmford have that best room,
as I told you I should. I've put your chist and things in the room
overhead."

"Whatever!" ejaculated Cap'n Jonah under his breath. Then: "Wal, if
that's the best you can do, Niece Sarah, I s'pose I'll haf to abide by
it. But I was mighty comfort'ble in that other berth."

"We're poor folks, Uncle Jonah," said Sarah Petty with decision. "As
you don't feel able to afford to pay full price, course I had to better
myself if I could. You won't be in your room much anyway, so I guess
you won't mind."

Cap'n Jonah took a reflective pinch of snuff, shut the silver snuff
box with a snap, and went up to bed without further word. Orrin Petty
leaned forward with an expression of doubt upon his avaricious face.

"I dunno but you air makin' a mistake, Sarah," he whispered. "If he
_should_ be rich----"

"Then let him pay me decent board," snapped Sarah. "I give him hints
enough. This Mr. Helmford, comin' as he has, is providential--nothin'
less. Uncle Jonah might's well know, first as last, that he can't
get the best of ev'rything for no pauper's pence. No, sir!" and she
straightened her shoulders and tossed her head with determination.

"But s'pose he has got that old note, Sarah?" suggested Orrin.

"It'll be time enough to worry, I've decided, when he produces it. If
he's rollin' in wealth, why don't he show some of it? He may have a
fortune, or he may not. He ain't free to speak of it, it seems. You
can talk as you please, Orrin Petty; anybody who has money is bound to
brag about it. And the more they have the more they brag--one way or
another. Cap'n Jonah Hand ain't let out a yip about his fortune, so fur
as I know."

CHAPTER VIII

THE BALD TRUTH

It was a narrow, dark stair up which Cap'n Jonah poked his way. He
bumped his head at the landing and said "Whatever!" with more than his
usual emphasis.

"It's like goin' below in a Chinese junk," he muttered.

He got into the room, lit a match and found and ignited the wick of the
lamp upon the bureau. He had seen more cramped quarters; but it was a
fact that the loft room over the Pettys' kitchen was not his ideal of
what his quarters were to be when he retired from the sea.

The room had been occupied by a foremast hand of a sloop that Orrin had
once chartered. Orrin had agreed with the man to berth him afloat and
ashore, and when the _Sarah May_ was not at the fishing, the foremast
hand dug the garden and helped at the chores.

The man, it seemed, must have had an inordinate dislike for fresh air,
for he had nailed the one window in the room shut, and neither Sarah
nor Orrin had ever taken the trouble since to take the nails out.

The nights were becoming frosty; but Cap'n Jonah found the low-ceiled
room very stuffy and unpleasant. It was a bare and unadorned place,
with the cracked looking-glass in such a position that a man could not
possibly see to shave himself, either by daylight or lamplight.

There was no closet for his chest as there had been in the larger
chamber, and it was forced to stand just where the unwary might break
their shins against it.

His niece had soon got over treating him nicely. Cap'n Jonah realized
that he had all too quickly been made "one of the family." And he was
being treated as Sarah Petty treated the poor relation branch.

"I'd ruther go to the Sailors' Snug Harbor and be done with it," the
captain ruminated. "At least, if I was treated there like a step-child
'twouldn't be my own flesh and blood was doin' it. This Sarah Petty,
now, she's a cleaner and no mistake. I dunno where she ever got her
meanness. Never from her father. The Hands wasn't none of 'em so
penny-squeezing. Poor John! If he'd lived to see me treated like this
by his gal he'd have been broken-hearted, I do guess."

He could not sleep in the close and airless chamber and about midnight
he got up and smashed a couple of panes of glass in the upper sash of
the window with his cane.

It was not often that Cap'n Jonah gave way to his temper. He who would
make others obey, must first control his own weaknesses. The master
mariner had long since learned that lesson. The next day he took out
the nails holding the window sashes and put in two new lights of glass;
setting about, too, to make his new quarters as comfortable as possible.

Used as he was to the compactness of a ship's cabin, he still found the
loft room cramped quarters. Nor was there a comfortable chair in it.
When he was not in bed he must sit with the family or remain out of
doors.

"I vow!" he thought, "if I was married to Sarah Petty, like Orrin, I
would stay out in the barn."

He bethought him of the retired seamen he already knew in the
neighborhood, and made up his mind that most of them had it better than
he had. 'Liphalet Truitt, for instance, was a king on his throne beside
Cap'n Jonah Hand.

He and the ex-steward had become rather good friends in the weeks of
Cap'n Jonah's sojourn at Cardhaven. Indeed, almost everybody found it
easy to be friends with Mr. Truitt.

The spry ex-steward, well-known to everybody about Cardhaven and along
the Shell Road, had been welcomed heartily when he had come ten years
or more before to settle here. Having bought the little house next to
the Mariner's Chapel, he was from the first a particular object of
interest to the scattered congregation of fishermen and their families
who shouldered the burden of its upkeep.

He had been every man's friend for the years of his sojourn upon the
Shell Road, and Cap'n Jonah heard him spoken of highly at the store,
where all local opinion was strained and filtered. But the captain
had to confess that 'Liphalet Truitt was a more than ordinarily glum
looking man.

He had heard Doctor Ambrose make his diagnosis of the reason for
Mr. Truitt's appearance and attitude toward life in general with no
particular belief in the medical man's opinion. Cap'n Abe Silt stated
as a fact that "Life Truitt had turned like old cider--and quite as
sudden--here of late." But the newcomer to the neighborhood found the
ex-steward a most satisfactory companion.

"Ye-es," said Cap'n Jonah reflectively, "you air a sight better off
than I be, Truitt."

"And me without chick nor child belonging to me but a cat?" sniffed the
ex-steward.

"You can have my sheer of Sarah Petty and her lout of a boy, and
welcome," said Cap'n Jonah bitterly. "Orrin ain't nothin' to me by
blood, and a nephew-in-law ain't a very close relation anyway, thanks
be! He's such a snoopin', suspicious critter. I swan to man! I believe
he wakes up mornings counting his fingers like a baby, for fear
somebody's stole one of 'em during the night.

"And the hull batch of 'em--'cept Pearly--can't let my things alone.
They've s'arched my chist to the bottom board. If I have anything I
don't want them to nose into I've got to carry it on me, that's a fact.
Why, Sarah Petty is as inquisitive as that Pandory woman you read about
in the books. Mr. Truitt, you are better off than you know, living here
by yourself."

The ex-steward scowled. "Don't you fool yourself," he grumbled. "The
Pettys may be some wearin' on a man; but it ain't what it's cracked up
to be, livin' alone with nobody but Bo'sun to speak to ha'f the time."

"I dunno----"

"You're a man o' means, Cap'n Jonah," urged 'Liphalet, in his brisk
way. "You ain't married to Sarah Petty, if Orrin is. You ain't got to
stay there. There are other places you could get board where the folks
would treat you right."

Cap'n Jonah looked at his friend steadily and took a pinch of
snuff. It was a way he had when he found it difficult to come to an
immediate conclusion. He flourished his big handkerchief and sneezed
reflectively. He desired to make a complete confession to 'Liphalet
Truitt, and yet he hesitated.

He was in no haste to reveal his private affairs to any person. Yet he
felt that he must advise with somebody. He said slowly:

"I might go elsewhere to board. It's true. But I'd made up my mind to
settle down, when I did leave the sea, with the only rel'tives I have.

"I had no idea Sarah Petty was the sort she is--no, sir! The only time
I ever seed her in her own home was when the boy was small an' she was
a young woman an' hadn't got soured. As a girl at home she was a smart
little thing and a good housekeeper. I always envied John, even after
his wife died, his house was kep' so neat.

"'That's the woman I want to live with when I settle down,' said I,
thinkin' o' Sarah Petty. And then----Why, I tell ye, Mr. Truitt,"
added Cap'n Jonah, earnestly, "there's a good reason why Sarah should
be willin' to take me in and do for me. When she put it on me at the
start, as she did for board and lodgin', you could have knocked me down
with a feather duster!"

Mr. Truitt raised his eyebrows questioningly. But he did not ask Cap'n
Jonah verbally to explain. However, the latter pursued his rather
roundabout course:

"When Sarah was a young gal her father got into difficulties, an' it
was my privilege to help him out. It was something that one brother
sh'd always be glad to do for another, Mr. Truitt," the captain
earnestly said, "and with no thought of repayment. Yet 'twas something
that I know John bore in mind and didn't let his daughter forget as
long as he lived. He never writ me, but he mentioned his obligation.

"On the stren'th of that," pursued Cap'n Jonah rather solemnly, "I had
reason to expect better treatment than I get at Sarah Petty's hand. My
bite and sup won't bankrupt them--that I know. She's got me tied up
in a sack for twenty-two-fifty a month with washin'; and I tell you
honest, Mr. Truitt, my little tad o' money ain't goin' to last long at
that rate."

"Why, Cap'n Jonah!" ejaculated the ex-steward, shaken out of his usual
poise. "You don't mean to say you air short of money?"

"Wal, I soon shall be," admitted the captain.

"You got investments you can't touch?" suggested 'Liphalet gently. "If
you got to wait for dividends, or such like, and a hundred dollars
would be of any use to you----"

Cap'n Jonah put up his hand admonishingly. His mahogany face showed no
heightened color, but his eyes shone with gratitude.

"You air a good feller, Truitt," he said. "But I don't want to borrow.
I might not be able to pay back. I ain't got no investments that are
bringing me in dividends."

"Your fortune ain't in stocks and bonds, then?" commented 'Liphalet
placidly.

"Fortune!" snorted Cap'n Jonah. Then he added: "My fortune, 'Liphalet
Truitt, is in thin air--that's what it is invested in."

"By Hannah!" ejaculated the startled 'Liphalet.

"Ye-as," said Cap'n Jonah, rather relieved now that his confession was
out. "The bald truth is, I ain't got no fortune. I did git some little
money together at off times durin' my life; but allus something come up
to scatter it.

"Once I went into tradin' to the South Sea Islands with a feller, and
we made quite a pile--twenty to twenty-five thousand silver dollars. We
agreed that if either of us died, t'other should have the whole lot.

"Wal, our schooner went ashore on an atoll and our crew was drowned,
and we was both captured by a bunch of savages with their teeth filed
to sharp p'ints. You know what that meant!

"My partner seen me carried off, along with a big pot such as
old-fashioned whalers used to try out blubber in, by one gang of
savages, and he reckoned I was due to make the foundation for a
cannibal goulash. But a missionary happened to land on the island where
my gang of savages lived, and he saved my life."

"Saved your life, Cap'n Jonah?" repeated the interested Eliphalet.

"Yep," said Cap'n Jonah grimly. "He was fatter than me. So I was saved,
and before I got fatted up to suit 'em, I got a chance to escape and
I didn't refuse it. I landed in Hongkong the next year, just the day
after my partner, sure I was dead, had blowed our fortune in at a
gambling joint trying to break the bank.

"Wal," sighed Cap'n Jonah, "that's where one fortune went. I'd get a
little together and then lose it. Only last year I owned a tidy brig
called the _Two Eyes_--named in compliment to the Chinese idea of
havin' an eye painted on either side of the sprit. John Chinaman says:
'If junk no have eye, how can see?' She'd belonged to a Chinese company
before I got her, and was named _The Beautiful Lily With Black Spots_.

"Wal, the _Two Eyes'_ insurance ran out 'tween ports, she struck an
uncharted reef, and in two hours I didn't own a thing but the duds I
stood in and my instruments--ship and cargo both gone to the bottom."

"And you haven't a thing to show for all your years of hard work, Cap'n
Jonah?" asked Eliphalet Truitt, almost horror stricken.

"I have a fine line of experience," said Cap'n Jonah with disgust. "I
have the remains of my last year's airnings as skipper of the _Rajah's
Mate_, in cash. And I have some sheers a feller sawed off onto me that
I reckon ain't wuth much more'n that wall paper on your kitchen wall,
Mr. Truitt. I invested two thousand dollars sev'ral years ago in them
ile sheers, and then found the comp'ny had gone bust. All they ever got
out'n the ile wells they bored, so they told me, was a bad smell!"

"I want to know!" commented the ex-steward, vastly perturbed by Cap'n
Jonah's story.

"You can guess," went on the latter, "how much I got left out o' my
money after payin' my fare home to the Cape. But I knowed another
v'y'ge might put me on my beam ends. The rheumatics certainly have got
their teeth set into me," and he rubbed his knees reflectively, swaying
back and forth in Mr. Truitt's kitchen rocker.

"I calc'lated I'd be welcome--for a while at least--to Sarah and her
folks. She writ me more'n a year ago she'd make a warm nest for me if I
come here. An' whatever! she's makin' it warm enough, for a fac'."

"And you really have no fortune at all?" repeated 'Liphalet in wonder.

"Not a snitch," returned Cap'n Jonah. "That's the bald truth.
Ev'rything I own of value I have right in my pocket here," he slapped
the breast of his coat, "an' it ain't makin' me stoop-shouldered none
carryin' of it around."

CHAPTER IX

A SHELL ROAD IDYL

"I wouldn't so much care about myself," Cap'n Jonah went on
reflectively after a minute. "There's always the Sailors' Snug Harbor,
and I've made inquiries about that. I've got money enough right now, if
I don't let Sarah Petty take no more away from me, to buy my way into
the Harbor, where I'll prob'ly get decent treatment for the rest of my
life.

"Course, livin' in an institution," sighed the captain, "an' being
called an inmate in the yearly reports, ain't prob'ly all it's cracked
up to be. But I jest 'bout as soon live with a steam calliope as with
Sarah Petty; and Orrin pesters me like an auger going through a pine
knot.

"It ain't so much myself," repeated Cap'n Jonah, "as 'tis the way they
treat that poor gal, Pearly. I can scurcely keep my feelin's to myself
sometimes when they are a-houndin' of that poor gal."

"Yep. I've heard tell of it," Mr. Truitt said, nodding. "Miss Sue said
to me once't she didn't see how the gal stood it."

"Sarah Petty claims her services, I believe, and the gal says herself
she ain't eighteen. Sarah don't care a mite how bad she treats me; how
much less does she care how she makes Pearly feel? Whatever!"

"It's a master hard situation," admitted Mr. Truitt frankly.

"'Hem! I know what would fix 'em," growled Cap'n Jonah. "If I did have
the slew of money they at first thought I might have, I could bully 'em
into treatin' the gal half decent, I vow! Now they've gone all through
my duds and duffel an' ain't found so much as a pen scratch about a
fortune, Sarah and Orrin air 'bout convinced I ain't got much laid by."

"By Hannah!" ejaculated 'Liphalet, his eyes widening. "If you could
fool 'em--if you could make 'em think you did have a fortune, Cap'n
Jonah----"

"Whatever!" responded the master mariner. "How could I do that? Nothin'
but hard cash would convince Sarah and Orrin Petty, I allow. And hard
cash I ain't got."

"There ought to be some way to fool 'em," insisted 'Liphalet. "We'd
ought to be able to think up something."

"Think up what?" growled Cap'n Jonah, shaking his head. "I ain't got
the conscience to try to sell them old ile sheers I hold. Though I
calc'late Orrin would ha' bit on them when I first come."

"By Hannah!" said 'Liphalet again, which was his emasculated
pronunciation of "Gehenna!" "It would sarve 'em right if they got
fooled, good and plenty. You needn't be too tender with such folks. And
there's a hull lot like 'em around here," he added, in an undertone. It
was plain the ex-steward's opinion of his neighbors--some of them, at
least--had become as the storekeeper suggested, somewhat soured.

"I tell ye what," he went on. "You'd ought to talk with Cap'n Abe about
this."

"Talk with who?" ejaculated the other in surprise.

"With Abram Silt."

"Whatever! That old gasbag?" snorted Cap'n Jonah. "Ev'ry time I go into
that store for my snuff he starts tellin' me some silly yarn! I been to
sea too long myself to enjoy hearin' about other sea-farers an' their
hard luck. Why! they tell me he didn't even come fair an' honest by his
title of Cap'n. All he was ever skipper of was a wreckin' comp'ny."

"Wal, now, cap'n is one of the easiest titles to come by on the Cape,"
said Mr. Truitt excusingly. "And as for Cap'n Abe--wal, sir, I do allow
he is one of the smartest men we have around here, if he didn't never
go but one v'y'ge in a deep bottom craft."

"Didn't know as he ever done even that," scoffed Cap'n Jonah. "To hear
him tell those yarns of his you'd think he'd sailed longer without
seeing land than old Noah did."

"He loves seafarin' and always has," commented 'Liphalet. "And I
reckon he's the only Silt that warn't as salt as a haddocker. Now, his
brother, Cap'n Am'zon Silt, _he_ was a corker. Spent the last summer of
his life here on the Shell Road, did Cap'n Am'zon. We had a bad wreck
off the Gull Rocks an' Cap'n Am'zon went out with the life-saving crew
an' never come ashore again. Was washed off'n the wreck of the _Curlew_
schooner.

"Cap'n Abe's been kind of diff'rent since his brother was drowned.
Don't begin to tell so many stories as he did, and he's a sight more
stern. B'sides, Cap'n Am'zon could fair burn him up when it come to
relatin' of adventures. Consider'ble of a man, Cap'n Am'zon was.

"Jest the same," pursued 'Liphalet, "Cap'n Abe Silt has got a head on
him. I'd like you to tell your story to him, Cap'n Jonah. I b'lieve he
might be able to give you an idee wuth follerin'.

"Hullo! Who's boarded us now?"

A quick _tap, tap_ of heels on the steps and porch. Then a gentle rap
on the door. 'Liphalet's brick-burned face became more inflamed, if
that were possible, as he arose to answer the unexpected summons.

"Oh! Good morning, 'Liphalet," came the sweet contralto of Miss Sue
Ambrose. "I wanted to remind you that the Christmas committee meets
this afternoon in the vestry. You'll see to the fire for us, won't you?"

"I calc'late to," the ex-steward replied in evident confusion of mind,
for he was striving to cram his big-bowled pipe into a vest pocket far
too small to receive it.

"And 'Liphalet!" pursued the doctor's sister, "you'll be at the
meeting, too, won't you? We shall need some of you menfolk when it
comes to the real work, and we shall be glad to have your advice now."

"Hum! I'll see," muttered 'Liphalet not at all inclined, it would seem,
to make the promise.

"We shall be looking for you," said the gentle little woman, as she
turned from the door. "Please remember."

Eliphalet Truitt stepped back into his kitchen and found it empty save
for Bo'sun, the big white cat, who purred contentedly on the stove
hearth. Cap'n Jonah, thinking his friend was about to receive other
company, had slipped out of the rear door and departed, 'cross-lots,
toward the Petty place.

'Liphalet glanced out of the partly closed door again, holding it
ajar with his hand, and watched the trim figure of the doctor's sister
hurrying along the Shell Road. How often he had thus peered after Sue
Ambrose since his establishment ten years before in this little box of
a house next to the Mariner's Chapel!

The ex-steward was old-fashioned in dress and speech; but he was as
spry "alow and aloft" as when he had retired from the sea and had come
to Cardhaven to live. Nor did he expect, when he so retired, that he
would remain a bachelor for the rest of his life. He had a competence
ample for two plain people, much more than one would possibly need.
For several years before leaving the sea he had looked forward to the
time when he could settle down, ask a "certain party" (as he always
expressed it even in his own mind) to share his little fortune, and to
sag into comfortable old age on one side of a cheerful hearth while she
sat on the other.

He visualized this idea often while at sea to keep his heart up in
storm and stress during long and tedious voyages to the world's end;
for Eliphalet Truitt had been a deep bottom sailor--none more so among
the ancient skippers of the Cape than this taut little ship's steward.

He had made friends of every soul along the Shell Road, for they found
Eliphalet Truitt a true man, and liberal in every sense--with money,
with his time, and, as well, in his religious views. The chapel was
a union church; all manner of doctrinal beliefs were represented in
its congregation, even to the Roman Catholic in the person of 'Suz
Montevedo, the Portuguese, who was indefatigable in his attendance at
Sunday-school and took his weekly golden-text reward cards home and
hoarded them.

'Liphalet, living so close to the chapel, acted as an unpaid sexton. He
was at hand to light the lamps, to build and care for fires, and the
key of the vestry door was always to be found hanging on a nail on the
ex-steward's porch.

The theological student, whoever he chanced to be, sent down once a
month from the seminary to try his apprentice hand upon the chapel
congregation, was always advised to see 'Liphalet Truitt when he first
arrived; and in the summer boarder season, when the women were all
busy, he was more than likely to be fed and housed over Sunday by Mr.
Truitt, who came near to being deacon of the congregation.

'Liphalet was the mainstay of the Ladies' Aid Society. He was the one
called into the breach whenever failure, financial or otherwise, seemed
to threaten any branch of the church work. He was the head and spirit
of the annual Sunday-school picnic, and he was always present in the
winter, and active, at the semimonthly bean or oyster-suppers rounding
out the regular sessions of the Ladies' Aid Society meetings.

Thus, 'Liphalet was the ladies' stand-by. And it was at Christmas
that the taut little ex-steward shone more brightly than at any
other season. Being a lover of children, he helped make the greatest
holiday of all the year a delight for those who attended the chapel
Sunday-school.

He supplied most of the toys and candy hung for each child on the
tree, buying the gifts himself and distributing them from his sack,
with other presents for the older people, in the guise of good Saint
Nicholas on Christmas night. He aided in dressing the chapel in
Christmas garb, and sometimes secured the tree itself from some dealer
in Paulmouth.

It might be that a selfish thought had entered into his mind at first
regarding these holiday activities. But what good thing, after all, has
not the germ of selfishness at the root of it?

"A certain party" had been on the Christmas celebration committee
from time immemorial. Eliphalet Truitt had first given his money and
personal endeavor to make the occasion a success because it offered the
opportunity for an association that was very sweet indeed to him.

Between voyages, during his brief visits to Cardhaven, he had been
wont to take his flute in the evening and call at the cottage where "a
certain party" kept house for Doctor Ambrose. Demure, pink-cheeked
Sue Ambrose, with the pretty waves of silvering hair drawn over her
shell-like ears, the soft white bands at throat and wrists, her trim
figure, her low throaty, contralto voice like a bird call when she
laughed, seemed to 'Liphalet to possess the most delightful personality
in all the world.

There was an ancient melodeon in the doctor's parlor; and from it Miss
Sue coaxed sweet sounds that combined harmoniously with the steward's
rather uncertain flutings. And she loved the old sea ditties as did
'Liphalet himself. He had been born with that dumb joy of sweet sounds
that is actually an infliction to those unfortunates who never learn to
express it through some musical instrument. Perhaps 'Liphalet had not
chosen the most fortunate means of expressing his musical soul, for the
flute in the hands of an amateur can be provocative of a good deal of
pain as well as pleasure.

But standing in Doctor Ambrose's little parlor, with his head and
shoulders thrown well back, and accompanied by the notes of the
melodeon, the taut little steward had been in his glory. Those visits
between voyages were glimpses of heaven to Eliphalet Truitt.

For forty years he had known no home but a ship's forecastle or cabin.
Was it strange that within his breast grew that vision of a hearthside
that now, unfulfilled, racked his very soul when it rose specter-like
in his mind?

He came in again and closed the door of his kitchen. He dropped into
the low rocking-chair Cap'n Jonah had occupied, and tapped the cold
pipe upon the hearth to knock the dottle out of it.

"Hum!" he growled in his throat (but did he believe it?), "I spect all
_she_ thinks of, too, is what she can git out of me for Christmas.
Christmas--_bah_!"

CHAPTER X

"PEARLY"

It was true that Cap'n Jonah was more disturbed by the Pettys'
treatment of Pearl Holden than he was by his own uncertain financial
situation. He had been taking chances all his life, and the fact that
his ready cash would soon run low held nothing new or strange in his
experience.

Like most seafaring men, the captain held all women in great respect.
And a young girl in Pearl's situation was bound to appeal very strongly
to his chivalrous spirit.

"Whatever!" he muttered often and again. "If I could jest fool Sarah
and Orrin, like 'Liphalet says. If them two money-lovers only believed
that I had a fortune, as they at first suspected, I could make 'em
treat Pearly decent, an' that's a fac'."

As the days passed he could not help seeing that there was something
troubling Pearl deeply. He supposed that it must be the harshness meted
out to her by Sarah Petty.

Before Mr. Helmford, Sarah and Orrin were both on their best behavior.
They really desired, it seemed, to retain the new boarder's respect,
and at table spoke in fair kindness to the girl, as well as treated
Cap'n Jonah with more consideration.

Tom, of course, was hopeless. His bad manners Mr. Helmford ignored. And
really, the lout gave Cap'n Jonah nothing of which to complain. Tom, in
fact, held a contrary opinion from his parents' regarding Cap'n Jonah's
financial circumstances; and he had reason to.

The young fellow could not well forget that his Uncle Jonah had given
him a twenty-dollar bill without his even asking for it; and Tom could
not imagine anybody giving away money in such sums unless they really
had more than they knew what to do with.

Tom had no mind to tell his father or mother his reasons for holding to
the belief that Uncle Jonah Hand was a wealthy man. It would open too
fruitful a field for inquiry.

Despite the fact that Sarah Petty had examined every scrap of Cap'n
Jonah's possessions save what he carried about with him all the time,
and had found no bankbook or any account of his investments, Tom backed
his father strongly in the declaration that the old man might be hiding
securities or other valuables.

"Jest because he's savin' and won't buy new clo'es and things he
needs," said Orrin on one occasion, "ain't no sure proof that he's
short of money. Mebbe that's how he got it--bein' careful."

Orrin could appreciate to the full such a miserly character as he
gave Cap'n Jonah. He was worried, it must be confessed, by his wife's
treatment of her uncle. He remembered that Cap'n Jonah admitted he had
some money invested in oil shares; and what the bank cashier had said
about such investments could not fail to impress his suspicious and
avaricious mind.

"You may wake up, Sarah, and find you've made a bad mistake," he urged.

"I guess I can trim my sails to a change of wind if need be," she
returned sharply. "But I've about made up my mind that old tramp is
soon to be without a cent to bless himself with. And when that time
comes, out he goes, bag and baggage! The poor farm's good enough for
the like of him."

"But if he's got that old note of your father's----"

"Let's wait till that kettle boils," said Sarah Petty grimly. "I
scare't myself enough about that at the start. I ain't found a single
scrap of paper--not even any of my father's letters in which he
mentioned the note. Jonah Hand says he lost his ship and all year
afore last. I reckon all his private papers went down with it. I don't
calc'late to be 'fraid again of no bugaboo."

Sarah's was a much bolder spirit than her husband's. She was the lion,
he the jackal. He wrung his hands reflectively and made no reply.
But privately he intimated to Cap'n Jonah that he did not approve of
Sarah's putting the old seaman "into that poky garret room." It was
well, Orrin thought, to have an anchor to windward.

Cap'n Jonah took both Orrin's and Tom's advances for what they were
worth, and no more. And he continued to worry about his finances as
little as possible. But Pearly----

There was something wrong between the girl and Tom. The captain began
to realize that, and it, too, disturbed him. He saw them privately
talking in corners--the girl angry and earnest, Tom slouching and with
sneering face.

The lazy fellow did not go to work. He idled around the house, helped
his father under protest, and occasionally went fishing or clamming and
thus added to the family larder. His mother must have supplied him with
money, the captain decided, for he was able to buy tobacco and such
other small luxuries as he wanted. Sarah bought all his clothing, as
she did Orrin's; and hard bargains she drove indeed for them with the
peddlers and with Cap'n Abe.

Once Tom went to Paulmouth and came home with the unmistakable smell of
liquor on his breath.

"You're a good-for-nothing, lazy fellow!" Cap'n Jonah once heard Pearl
tell the youth, and with vigor. "And you won't ever do what you
promised me you would--and 'twill soon be Christmas."

The captain wondered what it was Tom Petty had promised her. At least,
the girl evidently had no love for the lout, and Cap'n Jonah was glad
of that.

He watched her intercourse with Helmford, however, with high delight.
When the "fish hatchery man" was near Pearl could not help preening her
feathers for him. Her pretty face glowed with interest when he spoke.
When he addressed her directly she was by no means tongue-tied; yet
there was a sweet shyness in Pearl's manner at such times that was very
attractive.

The young man could not fail to be charmed with the girl's unaffected
sweetness when he was in her presence. But he held himself back, and
treated Pearl only with that courtesy and kindness that he gave to
every woman.

He presumed the girl was already chosen as the future mate for the son
of the house. Helmford did not purpose to make Pearl's situation more
difficult than it was by offering her any particular attention. Yet Tom
Petty glowered at the two, and occasionally dropped a caustic remark
for which his mother took him privately to task.

Helmford had brought a great store of books with him and bookshelves on
which to arrange them. It was Pearl's duty to dust these from time to
time, for, after having once gone through the new boarder's possessions
quite as thoroughly as she had Cap'n Jonah's, Sarah Petty gave the care
of the new boarder's room over to her willing little drudge.

Pearl had obtained a fair education in the simpler branches before
she had been allotted by the selectmen to Orrin Petty, her mother's
step-brother's cousin-by-marriage--a relationship which even the
closest student of genealogy would have found difficulty in figuring
out.

She loved to read and all the time she could steal from her
multitudinous tasks was spent in that way. Not that her selection of
fiction had been very wise, perhaps, before Helmford came to board at
the Petty homestead. The romances in the _Ladies' Home Provider_ were
not strong intellectual food; but they were amusing, even enthralling,
to the mind of Pearl Holden.

These stories kept alive in the hearts of the women and girls who
read them the fires of real romance. Their belief in the existence of
chivalrous youth and beauteous maidens was nursed by these tales, and
they added nothing if not a saccharine quality to life as it is lived
on the Cape.

But Pearl's dippings into Helmford's books began to open her mind to
the appreciation of other worlds. The highest attribute of man had
heretofore been in Pearl's thought his ability to make love in a
gushing, moving-picture-hero way. Perhaps her belief in the existence
of such lovers had helped her hold aloof Tom Petty and his maudlin
attempts at love making.

In Helmford's books she found the clash of real life--in itself a
more enthralling romance than any Pearl had ever before dreamed. The
heroines were, too, of a different character from the girls she had
actually known. Why, sometimes they were more heroic than the men
themselves!

She quickly awoke to the fact that romance was not something of which
she could only dream. As she had told Cap'n Jonah, she thought of
marriage, even if she might never reach that much-to-be-desired state.

Pearl saw that Sarah Petty, for instance, was stronger than her
husband, that she took the lead. She knew she, herself, was more
assertive than Tom. These new book-heroines seemed to possess all the
push and determination that Pearl felt simmering in her own blood.

"If it was not unwomanly for those girls in the books to assert
themselves, to go out into the world and be self-supporting, and in the
end to choose the man they wanted for a mate instead of sitting down to
wait for the right man to look them up--if it was all right for girls
in books to do this, why," Pearl asked herself, "wasn't it the correct
thing for real girls to do?"

Pearl determined when her "time was out" at Orrin Petty's to do just
as some of these new heroines did. There was even Gusty Durgin, for a
local example. Modesty or a shrinking from the unknown had not kept
Gusty from setting forth with the single talent of being able to cry
real tears to be a moving picture actress. The rather clumsy, overfed
Gusty had never before seemed a heroine to Pearl Holden; but now she
saw the ex-waitress of the Cardhaven Inn in a new light.

As for Pearl's opinion of Helmford himself, she at first placed him on
a pedestal so high that he was scarcely in range of her humble worship.
But a girl cannot take intimate care of a man's belongings--dust and
sweep for him, clean up his litter, put away his garments, wash and
iron his clothes, darn his socks, and otherwise care for him and for
his possessions, without gaining a familiarity which, if it does not
breed the proverbial contempt, certainly does tarnish any heroic
quality he may have at first assumed.

Not that Joe Helmford was a man who held himself aloof. Quite the
contrary. He was as simple and unaffected as Pearl herself. Only he had
seen more of the world than she, and he had no idea of becoming too
familiar with Pearl, or with any other member of the Petty household.

In other words, he knew his place and kept to it. He was friendly
enough at mealtime; but he seldom appeared in the kitchen at any other
hour save to ask for shaving water or to pass through to his room.

He had immediately purchased an open grate stove in Paulmouth and had
had Perry Baker, the expressman, bring it over, along with a ton of
coal from the Cardhaven dock where the freight schooner tied up. So he
had his own fire, before which he spent most of his free time in study.

There was not much to do at the fish hatchery at this season, and
Helmford had assistants there to watch things day and night. So he was
able to study and read. Finding Pearl interested in books he advised
her a little in the selection of reading matter from his library, which
she bore off to her room, unknown to Sarah Petty.

Tom Petty, however, soon became aware of the innocent intimacy between
Pearl and the new boarder. He snarled and sneered and spoke so
pointedly about it that his mother said, in wonder:

"What do you care whether that feller, Helmford, pays attention to
Pearl Holden or not? I sh'd hope you'd respect yourself too much to
take any notice of hired help. What would your uncles, 'Poley and
Perseus Heath, say--let alone their wives--if you undertook to hitch up
with a pauper?"

For once his mother's advice was not calculated to impress Tom Petty.
He assumed, at least, the attitude of the dog in the manger. If he did
not want Pearl himself, he did not purpose that Joe Helmford should
have her.

"You don't want to mix up none with that city feller, Pearly," he told
her. "He's no good. You know what them city fellers are that come down
here to the Cape in summer. He's like all the rest of 'em."

"He isn't," declared Pearl, briefly and with firmness.

"You don't know nothin' at all about him--who he is or where he comes
from."

"Did I say I wanted to know?" responded Pearl proudly.

"Wal," said Tom, "you know you can't keep your eyes off'n him at
table, and when he talks your ears hang open like the mouth of a dyin'
codfish."

"I don't, either, Tom Petty!" she cried furiously.

They were out in the yard after their supper, and Pearl had been taking
down a batch of washed clothes frozen to the clothesline. It was a
cloudy night with no moon and was almost pitch dark. The clothes basket
was at the girl's feet and separated her from Tom.

"I don't, either, Tom Petty," she repeated. "Mr. Helmford is nothing to
me. But he's a gentleman."

"Aw, cat's foot!" scoffed Tom. "What's a gentleman? A dude with his
pants ironed to a crease."

"A gentleman is something you ain't, and never will be!" cried the
girl. "You're not gentleman enough to keep your word to a girl. You've
broke your word to me. You won't go to work and earn money to pay your
debts. You're as mean, Tom Petty, as you can be--an' I've a good mind
to tell your mother after all," she ended in anger.

"You said you wouldn't tell," sneered Tom. "If you tell, who's the
biggest liar--you or me?"

"I guess," said Pearl practically, "that a bad promise is better broken
than kep'."

"You tell Marm," threatened the youth, "and I'll fix you, Pearl Holden!"

He actually raised his hand to her. She stepped back, seeing his
gesture in the darkness, and at that very moment a tall figure thrust
itself between them.

"Shall I carry the basket indoors for you, Miss Pearl?" asked
Helmford's calm voice. "I am just going in."

He had come up the grassy lane unheard by Pearl or Tom. He noticed Tom
not at all as he picked up the basket.

Pearl choked, stifled a sob, and scurried ahead of him without a word.
Tom's protest died in his throat as Helmford strode after the girl,
carrying the clothes basket.

CHAPTER XI

AN EVENING WITH CAP'N ABE

As Tom Petty showed more plainly his jealousy, his mother's unkindness
toward Pearl increased. That her son should display any interest in
the girl ground Sarah Petty's pride between the upper and the nether
millstone.

There was scarcely ever yet a woman's son who was not too good in the
mother's opinion for almost any woman he chose for a wife. The mother
may hide this feeling quite successfully; but secretly she feels that
the woman who has taken him away from her will not be worthy of her
trust.

In this case Sarah Petty was prepared to make life particularly
miserable for any daughter-in-law that the son might introduce into the
family. The thought that he might fall under the sway of the girl who
had drudged for her for seven years, was particularly exasperating.

Sarah had always accused Pearl of neglecting her work when Tom was
around. It was a sop to her pride to hold this belief. She considered
Pearl far beneath Tom's notice, and often scolded Orrin for "having
brought that pauper gal home" and thus thrown temptation in Tom's way.

Save for Cap'n Jonah, the Hands of Sarah's branch had died out, but
there were relatives of the Petty family who she considered were
well worth catering to. The twins, Apollo and Perseus Heath, and
their families were very well to do. There was Solon Petty and Enoch
Petty--the one in local, the other in State politics.

She had the family to think of, had Sarah Petty; and Tom "mixing
up with a pauper girl" was not at all to her liking. As a triangle
situation seemed to develop between Helmford, Pearl, and Tom, Sarah
Petty became so acrimonious and bitter to the girl that Cap'n Jonah
could scarcely hold his peace.

"Whatever!" he confided to 'Liphalet Truitt. "I'd give one of my
laigs--neither of 'em's much good when the rheumatism is in 'em--or an
arm if I could pay Sarah Petty back for some of her meanness to Pearly.
It's gettin' 'nough to sp'il the temper of a saint--and I ain't none!"

'Liphalet's heart was heavy and his face as long as the moral law, but
he still could feel sympathy for his friend, and for Pearly as well.

"I tell ye what, Cap'n Jonah," he said, "le's you an' me step down to
Cap'n Abe's this very evenin' and put it up to him. I tell ye, he's a
knowledgeable man."

"Wa-al," responded the captain, about at his wit's end and willing to
take almost any chance for advice that might aid in the situation.

Limping up and down the frozen road after supper that evening, leaning
rather heavily on his stick, and waiting for the ex-steward to put in
an appearance, Cap'n Jonah was hailed by what he had been pleased to
term "that spanking craft," Miss Sue Ambrose. She was returning from
some errand of mercy with an empty basket. For if a neighbor was ill or
poor, the doctor's sister was first with aid and comfort.

"Good evening, Cap'n Jonah," was her cheerful greeting. "Isn't it
rather raw for you to be out with your rheumatism?"

"Whatever!" exploded Cap'n Jonah. "I got to be out some, and I can't
leave the dratted rheumatics to home. Wish I could."

"Poor old Suz Montevedo is down, all alone in his cabin. He has the
inflammatory kind and unless his granddaughter runs in to see him, he
is all alone 'way over there beyond Tapp Point."

"Wal," said the captain, his eyes glowing with admiration, "I bet you
don't neglect him, Miss Sue."

"Oh, I do what I can," said the little woman, visibly blushing in the
starlight.

"And a feller laid on his beam ends ought not to want no better care
than you'd give him, ma'am," said the old mariner gallantly. "If I'm
laid by, myself, I hope I'll git ha'f as good."

"You'll have Pearly to nurse you, Captain," laughed Miss Sue. "And she
is a dear girl."

"Like enough! Like enough!" murmured Cap'n Jonah, as the little woman
went her way. "But the feller that got you--an' your forty thousand
dollars--would be mighty well off, an' no mistake. Hullo! Here's
'Liphalet at last."

The ex-steward had been halted by the doctor's sister for a moment.
When he reached Cap'n Jonah his countenance was stormy and his lips
grimly set.

"That there Miss Sue, Truitt, is a mighty sweet sailin' craft,"
observed the captain. "For a man of your age, say, she'd make a proper
mate."

'Liphalet growled something inaudible.

"And they tell me she's wuth forty thousand dollars in her own right,"
pursued the captain.

"By Hannah!" exploded the ex-steward.

"What's that?" responded Cap'n Jonah, startled.

"Hum! I forgot somethin'," was 'Liphalet's rather weak explanation.
He seemed to have no interest at all in Sue Ambrose and her reported
fortune.

"Wal," was the captain's final comment, "she does good with some of
her money, I haven't a doubt. But--for--ty--thou--sand--dol--lars!
Whatever! A sheer of that would purty near put a man on his feet,
Truitt."

'Liphalet did not utter another word until they entered Cap'n Abe's
store.

Supper time at this season of the year came early, that there might
be a long evening before nine-thirty o'clock, which was most people's
bedtime, and always Cap'n Abe's closing hour.

The lamplight bathed the crowded store and the ring of loungers about
the glowing stove with a soft radiance. This light glistened, too, on
tarpaulins and oil-skins, on varnished sea-boots and rubber "hips," all
of which garments and other gear hanging in rows looked like whispering
men jostling one another as they listened to the jest and comment that
went around the circle of which Cap'n Abe's stove was the center.

Milt Baker lounged in his favorite place at the tobacco showcase, with
simple Amiel Perdue beside him.

"I guess, Cap'n Abe, you'll haf to reach me another piece o' Brown
Mule," Milt said. "I seem to be all out."

"In more ways than one, Milt, you air out," rejoined the bewhiskered
storekeeper briskly. "You know what the motto of this store is. If you
want to _buy_ tobacco, Milt----"

"Sho, now! can't you be a good feller, Cap'n Abe? 'Mandy'll be in for
her week's buyin' by an' by and she'll pay you," said the disappointed
Milt.

"I dunno will she or not. You've got a bad mem'ry, Milt. And tobacco
ain't good for small boys, anyway----Good evening, 'Liphalet! How be
ye, Cap'n Hand?"

"Wal," said the philosophical Milt Baker, "mebbe I'll have to wait for
another chaw of tobacco till the Christmas tree's hung. 'Liphalet won't
never forgit me, I know."

Milt occupied the throne of local humorist. He thus quickly turned
attention from his own chagrin to the beclouded countenance of the
ex-steward.

"Ye-as," said Cap'n Abe. "'Liphalet ought to be right busy purty soon."

"Le's see," continued Milt, grinning knowingly, "have ye taken that
annual trip of yours to town yet to buy the stuffin' for Santa
Claus's bag on Christmas night, 'Liphalet? The kids ain't goin' to be
disappointed, be they? Ye got more children to buy presents for than
the old woman that lived in a shoe."

"Ha!" ejaculated the rather crabbed Cap'n Joab Beecher, "a man might's
well be a Mormon as to be fixed like 'Liphalet."

"Tell ye what 'tis," rose Washy Gallup's shrill voice, "I sartain sure
wouldn't let no passel of women and young'uns pull my laig for all my
spare change like 'Liphalet's done."

"And that wouldn't take no 'long pull an' a strong pull an' a pull all
together,' now, would it, Washy?" observed Milt, grinning broadly.

Mr. Truitt said not a word. Cap'n Abe, shrewd observer that he was,
shifted the topic of conversation adroitly. He saw no reason for
allowing a good customer to be bullyragged until he was run out of the
store and might be led thereby to take his trade to the Cardhaven shops.

"It does seem," the storekeeper said reflectively, "as though the
children ought to be giv all the good times we can make for 'em at
Christmas. I will allow 'Liphalet's done more than his sheer in that
way since he's lived here on the Shell Road. He's been Santa Claus
ev'ry year, as well as 'dressin' the part,' as them movie actors used
to say. Some of the rest of us might better put our hands in our
pockets an' help.

"It's a pleasure to think," went on Cap'n Abe, "of how children all
over the world 'bout this time o' year are getting ready to hang up
their stockin's for Santa Claus to stuff with goodies an' toys. I've
heard Cap'n Am'zon say----"

He halted in his speech and his jovial face fell. Cap'n Jonah Hand, who
was preparing to endure the expected yarn with such fortitude as he
could summon, was startled by the change of expression that came over
the storekeeper's visage.

"Wal," sighed Cap'n Abe, at last, "we won't talk 'bout that. But it
allus did puzzle me what them poor naked children of 'India's coral
strand,' that they tell about, hang up to get presents in on Christmas
Eve."

"Whatever!" ejaculated Cap'n Hand under his breath. Cap'n Abe's flights
of imagination were mysterious to him.

The conversational tide in the store ebbed and flowed. Mr. Truitt
seized an opportunity to tell the storekeeper quietly that he and Cap'n
Jonah had occasion to confer with him privately. The Shell Road oracle
nodded that he understood, and proceeded to get rid of customers and
loiterers alike at an early hour.

He locked the store door behind Washy Gallup's hooped back, and snuffed
out the window lights. He returned to the counter and held up the flap
of it, motioning Mr. Truitt and Cap'n Jonah to pass through.

"Go right back to the livin' room, 'Liphalet, you an' Cap'n Hand. You
know the way. I'll be right with ye soon's I bank the fire here for the
night. I calc'late we'll have consider'ble of a frost before morning."

The big argand burner over the table filled the comfortable room with
mellow light. The tortoise-shell cat sleeping on a turkey-red cushion
in one of the wide rockers, opened his eyes lazily and yawned at the
visitors.

"Find yourselves cheers, boys, and sit down," called Cap'n Abe's voice
from the store. "Slap Diddimus off'n that cushion, 'Liphalet. He's got
so he thinks he purty nigh owns this craft."

But the ex-steward had a liking for cats. As he had told Cap'n Jonah, a
cat was often his only company. He scooped Diddimus into his arms and,
sitting down in the rocker, held the big, purring, furry animal in his
lap while he swung back and forth.

Cap'n Abe bustled through the living room to the kitchen in the rear,
and they heard him shaking the grate of the range to liven the fire.
A moment later the harsh jangle of the coffee grinder announced his
hospitable intent.

"A mug o' hot coffee won't go bad to-night, boys, afore you go out into
the cold again," said the storekeeper, returning after putting the
coffee-pot on the stove. He settled into his own creaking chair and
reached for the ever-ready knitting on the stand by the window, over
which hung an empty bird cage. The sock he was fashioning could be for
none but his own generous-sized foot. "Wal," he said, smiling broadly
on the other two men, "I can see there's somethin' on both your minds.
Le's have it."

'Liphalet's glum visage lightened with sympathy as he turned to Cap'n
Jonah. "Do you want me, Cap'n Hand, to put this here difficulty o'
yourn before Cap'n Abe?" he asked gently.

"Steam ahead, Truitt," said the captain gruffly. "You've the gift of
gab, and you're a friend."

"The Cap'n," said 'Liphalet, to the storekeeper, "needs advice. I told
him you was the man to come to for it, Cap'n Abe."

The storekeeper, knitting briskly, made a clucking sound with his
tongue to notify his visitors that he modestly disclaimed any desire to
pose as an oracle. Yet his attitude was one of willingness to help if
he could.

"You've lived in this neighborhood longer than I have, Cap'n Abe,"
pursued Mr. Truitt, "although I was born in Cardhaven. You have been
here on the Shell Road for more than twenty years. And endurin' that
time I wouldn't wonder if you had got purty close to an opinion on
Orrin Petty and his wife."

"Hi mighty!" ejaculated Cap'n Abe, "I sh'd say I had," and glanced with
compassion at Cap'n Jonah.

"Cap'n Hand," went on Mr. Truitt, "had good and sufficient reason, so
he says, to expect a welcome and kindness, from Sarah Petty when he
came to live with her. Her father, and naturally Sarah herself, was
under obligation to Cap'n Hand----"

"Belay all that!" interrupted Cap'n Hand. "'Twas a family matter.
Nothin' but what I should have done for John Hand, my own brother, as
I had neither chick nor child myself."

"In the same spirit," Mr. Truitt insisted, "Sarah Petty should have
been willing to help you. Ain't that a fac'?"

"'Twould seem so," admitted Cap'n Jonah.

The storekeeper listened and clicked his needles. "What air you drivin'
at, 'Liphalet? Is it that Orrin and Sarah's made it onpleasant for
Cap'n Hand up there at their house?"

"Whatever!" ejaculated Cap'n Jonah. "And the way they treat that gal,
Pearly, is a sin and shame. I can't stand it!"

"Why don't you get a place of your own, Cap'n Hand, and take Pearly
with you?" asked the storekeeper bluntly. "I guess we could fix it with
the town selectmen. Ev'rybody knows what a tongue Sarah Petty's got and
how parsimonious Orrin is. And Pearly is a good little thing and always
was."

"Why, Mr. Silt," said Cap'n Jonah desperately, and cutting out
'Liphalet as intermediary, "I'll tell you the truth. When I first come
here Sarah and Orrin treated me fair enough. They thought, you see, I
had a fortune."

"Hi-mighty!" exclaimed the storekeeper, a great light dawning on his
face. "Ye don't mean to say----Why! Orrin told us ye had money to burn."

"'Twouldn't make much of a smoke if I burned it all," said Cap'n Jonah
dryly. "No, sir! What little tad I had when I landed here will soon be
gone if I let Sarah Petty take it away from me at the rate she has been
doin'. They're purty nigh convinced now, Sarah and Orrin, that I ain't
a millionaire. Sarah ain't been able to find even a bankbook in my
chist. And the way that woman treats Pearly----"

He went on to tell of how the young girl was made to suffer, as well as
of the indignities heaped upon himself of late, and of the unpleasant
quarters he was made to occupy in a house where there were plenty of
well furnished bedrooms.

Cap'n Abe listened with full appreciation and sympathy. 'Liphalet broke
in to say: "I tell him if he could make them Pettys jest _think_ he was
rich--as they first thought--he could carry things with a high hand.
Make 'em treat Pearly better, too."

"Hi-mighty!" agreed Cap'n Abe. "It's a good p'int an' well taken. Might
be done. Is that what ye want my advice on?"

"Wal," said Cap'n Jonah, "Truitt said you was a great feller for
schemin' out things." But he did not say it very hopefully.

Cap'n Abe smiled broadly. "How fur would you be willin' to go, Cap'n
Hand?" he asked. "I mean how close't could you trim your sails to the
bare bones of truth. Ordinarily I don't believe in lyin'. But if folks
want to fool themselves----"

"That's it!" ejaculated 'Liphalet, eagerly.

"I'd be willin' to go purty far," growled Cap'n Jonah. "Whatever!"

Cap'n Abe had put aside his knitting. He slapped his knee smartly.
"'Nough said!" he ejaculated. "You lemme think it over--_di_-gest it,
as ye might say. I sartain am sorry for your situation, Cap'n Hand, and
I want you to believe that, if wust comes to wust, us fellers along
the Shell Road that's been able to put by a little won't see you lack
none for comforts. Eh, 'Liphalet? Not as long as there's a shot in the
locker."

"That's mighty kind of you," said Cap'n Jonah. "But Sarah Petty an' her
folks, I feel sure, wouldn't ha' been near so well off as they be if
it wasn't for what I done once for her father. And for that reason she
should be decent to me."

"Humph! I allow you air right," said the reflective storekeeper. "Ye
mean to say ye ain't got _nothin'_ but the money ye speak of?"

"Nothin' but some ile sheers--two thousand dollars they cost me--that
a feller bunkoed me with some years ago," replied Cap'n Jonah. "An' I
believe I could have sold them to Orrin Petty when I first come."

"Ye better had," said the ex-steward, darkly. "'Twould ha' sarved him
right."

"No," said Cap'n Jonah. "I'll raise the wind in some other way."

"First of all we'll see if we can't make the Pettys believe you have
got a fortune," Cap'n Abe said, more briskly. "Leave it to me, Cap'n
Hand. I guess we can find some way of overreaching them that tries to
overreach. You come in again soon. I'll have somethin' cooked up for
ye, I don't doubt."

CHAPTER XII

THE APOSTATE SANTA CLAUS

Heart-warmed by Cap'n Abe's promise of assistance and by his coffee,
the two cronies started homeward. A keen off-shore gale bit frostily.
The stars were sprinkled thickly upon a purple sky.

Cap'n Jonah was much more cheerful; but 'Liphalet soon drifted into the
doldrums again. Spurred by his interest in his friend's trouble, his
thoughts had veered from his own case; now memory began to rasp his
mind again in a very tender spot.

"Tell ye what!" observed Cap'n Jonah briskly. "If I was a marryin' man
I sartain sure would set my stays and carry all sail till I run down
along a woman like Miss Sue Ambrose. That would fix me fine! She's got
a plenty and she seems like a smooth-tempered party. Nothin' like Sarah
Hand, that was."

"By Hannah!" snorted 'Liphalet, "would you marry for money, Cap'n Hand?"

"No. I don't presume I would," replied Cap'n Jonah reflectively. "But
if I was wantin' to marry I sartain sure wouldn't kick none if the
woman I picked out chanced to have a tidy bit laid away. Whatever!"

"Good night!" said 'Liphalet bitterly, and left him abruptly at the
mouth of the Petty lane.

Eliphalet Truitt was deeply disturbed in his mind. He regarded what
he had been forced to listen to from the loungers in the store this
evening as the capsheaf of all the rasping incidents that had of late
disturbed his mental poise.

He was hurt. More than that, he began to feel that Washy Gallup was
right. In the homely phraseology of the community, he had allowed his
leg to be pulled for all these ten years. He was a "good thing." He
had made the mistake of trying to buy (so he now thought) the love and
friendship he craved as a lonely and disappointed man. These people he
lived among looked upon him merely as a convenience and a silly fellow,
to be bled from the pocket for the general advantage.

It was true that heretofore he had enjoyed doing his bit and giving his
thought and time to the children's holiday. But now, as this Christmas
loomed near, the thought of hanging a tree with presents and packing
a bag with goodies for the little ones filled Eliphalet Truitt with
loathing.

As he scuffled along the Shell Road in the dark, he heard a mother
threatening her wayward offspring at the back door.

"You'd better be mighty good, Ezra Saltus, or Mr. 'Liphalet won't hang
no Chris'mas gift on the tree for you."

"By Hannah!" ejaculated the disgruntled ex-steward in his throat. "They
even make a bugaboo out o' me for naughty children! I'm good and sick
o' this! Folks just like me for what they can get out o' me. I--I'll
quit!"

It was then and there that the Santa Claus of the Shell Road
apostatized.

The next day the members of the Ladies' Aid Society were apprised--and
surprised--of the fact that the ex-steward refused to contribute in any
way toward the approaching Christmas celebration. He had stated to the
committee that approached him, with a finality that could not possibly
be misunderstood, his determination not to act in the capacity of Santa
Claus at the Mariner's Chapel, or help in any way whatsoever.

"That ought to stop 'em," snarled 'Liphalet to himself. "If they know
I mean business--that I ain't to be the Mr. E. Z. Mark of this here
community no longer--they'll mebbe pretty quick stop their smirkin',
and hintin' and jollyin'."

But it seemed they did not cease to do these very things. At least,
'Liphalet did not see that his unwonted attitude toward the approaching
holiday celebration made the least difference with his neighbors. They
continued to smile knowingly at him when the topic of Christmas was
mentioned. Even Cap'n Jonah when next he met the ex-steward seemed to
be particularly jovial about the coming Christmastide. The captain
seemed quite to forget his own troubles to say:

"I guess we can look forward to a white Christmas, Truitt. And that'll
please the children, an' Miss Sue, an' ev'rybody. Don't you admire a
white Christmas?"

"I don't admire no Christmas," snarled 'Liphalet. Then to himself and
under his breath, he repeated: "Christmas--_bah_!"

He turned on his heel before Cap'n Jonah could say anything else, and
left the latter standing in the road open-mouthed.

"By Hannah! Don't the tarnal fools believe I mean it?" was 'Liphalet's
disgusted comment.

But he was secretly ashamed when he met Sue Ambrose near the
post-office one day about this time. He had tried to tell himself
that she was like the rest--that her interest in church work led her
to encourage him to spend time and money for these people who did not
really care anything about him save for what they could get out of him.

She hailed him just as he was about to speak to Perry Baker, the
Paulmouth expressman, who had a crated talking machine in his wagon to
deliver, and 'Liphalet could not escape.

"I'd admire to know who it is in Cardhaven is goin' to own a music box
like that," he said, trying to cover his confusion. "By Hannah! I've
been dreadful tempted to buy one o' them things. Wish't I hadn't been
weaned on old saws like 'Wicked waste makes woful want' and 'A fool an'
his money air soon parted.'"

"Why, 'Liphalet Truitt!" Miss Sue said, with her low sweet laugh. "As
though you could not afford every comfort--even every luxury--you
craved."

"There _she_ goes," thought the disgruntled ex-steward. "Hintin' I'm
made of money like these other folks." And he continued to stare after
Perry Baker's wagon as though deeply interested in the crated talking
machine.

"I do want your advice, about the tree, 'Liphalet," said Miss Sue
desperately. It seemed as though she wished to recall his attention
from that talking machine and where it was going. "You know, Amos
Durgin usually has good trees; but he's shipped all his best ones to
Boston----"

"Ho!" ejaculated the ex-steward. "I ain't takin' no int'rest in the
Christmas tree this year, Susan. I'm a-takin' a back seat, like I tell
'em all. Let somebody else have a spell at sech didoes. It's my watch
below."

"Oh! Yes! Certainly, 'Liphalet, if you feel that way about it," the
gentle spinster said.

The memory of this meeting rasped 'Liphalet's mind more and more as
the hours passed. She had spoken as though she were hurt by his gruff
refusal, and he cringed in secret at thought of ruffling her gentle
soul in any way.

But even Miss Sue, he determined, should cozen him into no further
effort in behalf of the Christmas celebration. He knew very well what
they all expected--what they were looking for. Why, the children on the
road who now tipped their hats or courtesied to him so politely, were
the same little imps who had robbed his berry patch in June and whom he
had chased out of his "summer sweet'nin' tree" in August.

"Drat 'em!" grumbled 'Liphalet. "They're playin' a game, all on 'em.
Just salvin' me over--tryin' to git all they can out o' me! And Sue
Ambrose is purty near as bad as the rest," he added, with actual venom.

The taut little ex-steward had become a wofully changed man. It was
nothing sudden that had seized upon his mind and made it sick. More
than Doctor Ambrose had noticed his metamorphosis. The Black Dog rode
'Liphalet hard--had done so for many weeks.

At first when he had begun himself to notice the change that was coming
over his mind, 'Liphalet had called it "the megrums." He did not feel
as brisk bodily as usual. Jalap and salts--the sailor's never-failing
remedy for all ills to which human flesh is heir--were unshaken
doctrinal tenets in 'Liphalet Truitt's belief, and he declared that he
did not propose to have "no doctor messin' with his innards."

So he scouted the attempt of Doctor Ambrose to advise as to his
treatment. In his heart, too, he knew that the trouble was more mental
than physical. The seed of his discontent had been sown long before. He
had not realized it; but the years of denial since his retirement from
the sea were harder to bear than he had thought. During the active span
of his life ordinary troubles had little fretted Eliphalet Truitt, for
he was always looking forward to the consummation of his hope regarding
Sue Ambrose.

To be near her, to work with her in church affairs, occasionally to
pick out on his flute "Black-Eyed Susan" or "Fisher's Hornpipe" to the
accompaniment of her melodeon, was all very well. But these were poor
substitutes for the dream of hearth and home which had so long stirred
his imagination.

That last homeward voyage had been a memorable one for 'Liphalet. With
the younger officers, he secretly agreed that "the girls are pulling
the _Sadie Vars_ home with their apron strings." The old windjammer
seemed fairly to fly. Even during the usually tedious railroad trip
along the backbone of the Cape the minutes seemed to flow swiftly.

'Liphalet had scarcely felt, on that past occasion, the creaking
platform planks of the Paulmouth station under his feet when he landed;
and when he climbed to the seat beside Noah Coffin, the stage driver,
that portion of the Cape Cod landscape within range of his vision was
painted in rainbow hues.

But in ten minutes (how sharply he remembered it now!) a mental typhoon
had overcast the captain's horizon and drowned all the roseate colors
with a pall of dreary drab.

"Gre't changes around Cardhaven since you was last there, 'Liphalet,"
the gossipy stage driver had almost immediately said. "They've painted
the town pump."

"Same old crop of happenings, I reckon, Noah," the cheerful mariner
rejoined. "Some's died, some's been born, an'--any marriages?"

"Not ter speak of," Noah said, turning the cud in his cheek like a
ruminative cow. "Got a heiress among us now."

The explosion of this bombshell of news made but little impression upon
'Liphalet until Noah added:

"Doc Ambrose's sister--ye know, that little old maid, Susan--has fell
heir, they do say, to forty thousand dollars."

"By Hannah!" 'Liphalet ejaculated. "What's that you say, Noah?"

"Yes-sir-ree-sir!" declared the stage driver, slowly and with unction.
"Some female rel'tive, they say, livin' at a distance and who was
eternally opposed to this here new move for women votin'--what d'ye
call 'em, 'Liphalet? Sufferin'----"

"Suffragists?" barked the ex-steward.

"Yep. That's it. Wal, this old woman give all her fortune, they say, to
Susan Ambrose pervidin' she never votes. For-ty-thous-and-dol-lars!"
sighed Noah. "I've voted forty odd year, 'Liphalet, an' never picked
the winnin' side in nary 'lection yet. I wish't somebody had offered me
a fortune not to vote."

"Forty thousand dollars," murmured Eliphalet Truitt.

It was then the vision attending his homecoming had begun to fade.
'Liphalet thought of it now, after ten years of dragging time had
passed, and the contemplation of his disappointment was bitter indeed.
He had already at the time of his leaving the sea, bought the little
house beside the Mariner's Chapel. He had intended redecorating and
furnishing it anew throughout. Then he would speak his mind to Sue
Ambrose; for although 'Liphalet Truitt was a modest man, he was a
direct one, and he had reason to believe that Miss Sue would not say
him nay.

But an heiress with forty thousand dollars!

The blow, as 'Liphalet admitted now, almost "hove him on his beam ends."

"How could a fellow with his little tad of money," he asked himself,
"have the cheek to pop the question to Miss Sue? Why! every enduring
person, up and down the Cape, would say he was after her fortune. Worst
of all, the Doc's sister might herself think so!"

This withering shock to his hopes, however, did not altogether scuttle
the ex-steward. Miss Sue was quite as demurely friendly at his approach
as ever. Accession of great wealth had made little change it seemed in
her mode of life. She remained her busy brother's housekeeper. Merely
she wore silk instead of gingham and real lace instead of the product
of her own skillful needles.

On every hand the ex-steward was told of Miss Sue's fortune, for it was
delicious gossip. Miss Sue did not mention it herself. Forty thousand
dollars, compared with what he had invested and had on deposit in the
Paulmouth National Bank, was as a mountain to a molehill--or so it
seemed to Eliphalet Truitt.

So he had never spoken to Sue Ambrose in all these ten years as he
had desired to speak. She had gone her modest, kindly, charitable
way, making little display of her wealth--one of those sincere,
self-contained souls, the depths of whose hidden natures are not easily
fathomed.

'Liphalet had gradually fallen into the doldrums--a place of calms
and baffling airs. He had never refurnished the old house, or changed
its inner or outer appearance in any particular. For an old bachelor,
living alone, it was good enough!

His secret desire to be near Sue Ambrose led him to enter church work
with more enthusiasm than he otherwise might have done. Nor had this
fact grated on him until of late.

Aside from such interests, the ex-steward was a member of that "forum"
that gathered summer and winter around the stove in the Shell Road
store. He had been wont to join this group at Cap'n Abe's every week
day evening save prayer-meeting night. But as his pique against
Christmas and its activities grew, even the salt savor of the company
at the store became tasteless. Of late conversation when he was present
was apt to turn, he found, upon the coming holiday season. The winks
and smiles, the innuendoes, 'Liphalet considered, were all aimed at
him. There seemed to be an itch in the public mind to learn just what
he, Life Truitt, was going to buy to hang on the Chapel Christmas tree!

He had never chanced to notice it before this season, perhaps because
he had never been in so critical a mood; but all his neighbors seemed
to be slyly watching him, and with smiles, as though endeavoring
by insinuation and hypocrisy to recall themselves to his attention.
Nothing but his deep interest in Cap'n Jonah Hand's trouble would have
taken him to the store on this recent evening, the events of which were
last related.

And he was almost sorry he had done so. Cap'n Jonah had managed to roil
his feelings as deeply as anybody in speaking as he had of Miss Sue.
She was a great catch; 'Liphalet had lived ten years shaking in his
shoes, if the truth were known, for fear that some braver soul than he
would ask her for her hand.

She was at the bottom of all 'Liphalet's trouble--she and her fortune.
Every time he saw her, every time her name was mentioned, the barb was
sharpened in his soul. Jonah Hand might be brave enough to attempt to
marry Miss Sue and her money! But Life Truitt could not walk up to the
doctor's sister and ask her if she would have him. Here was the swift
stab of jealousy!

But he did pluck up courage the evening after meeting Sue at the
post-office to stuff his flute into his pocket and tramp over to the
Ambrose cottage. He had not sought music and Sue's companionship to
soothe his soul for a long time. There she was--he saw her through the
parted curtains of the parlor window--sitting at the melodeon, coaxing
the harmonies from the yellowed keys.

He stood near, with the first flakes of a snow squall falling upon him,
watching the graceful figure that was as harmonious in its surroundings
as were the notes pumped from the instrument. But after all, 'Liphalet
could not enter. A call in his present mood he felt would be a
profanation. Besides, there came into his sick mind again the thought
of how Sue, too, had sought to draw at his purse strings on this very
day for the Christmas entertainment. The devil of distrust said in his
ear:

"She's like the rest of 'em! She's like the rest of 'em!"

So he turned back. Sad indeed was the case of the once cheerful man
turned misanthrope. As he stubbed homeward through the crackling
snowflakes somebody he met on the road hailed him gayly:

"Been to town to do your Christmas shopping, Life?"

"No!" snarled the apostate Santa Claus. "And I ain't likely to make no
sech v'y'ge this weather."

CHAPTER XIII

FAIR AND FOUL WEATHER

Among other new worlds, that of poetry was being revealed to Pearl
Holden. Although by no means sentimental, Joe Helmford had his
bookshelves well supplied with the standard poets, as well as with the
works of many of the minor versifiers.

"I do dearly love rhymes," Pearl said, and so Helmford pointed out
these volumes to her. She began to learn that romance lay in other
directions besides on the road of fiction.

"My!" she confessed to Helmford one evening, when she stopped in at his
room on the way to her own for a book to read by the light of the small
hand lamp Sarah Petty allowed her. "My! some of these pieces of poetry
I read sound like chiming bells, and some flow sweet as honey. Some of
the lines that I don't half understand, Mr. Helmford, thrill me through
and through."

He watched her with something other than amusement behind his big,
round glasses. Here was the budding of a soul into new life. Helmford
began dimly to realize that Pearl was no ordinary girl after all.
Had she been born in a different environment she would have eagerly
absorbed such learning and culture as might have been within her reach.

"Some of 'em," Pearl went on to confess, "I guess I don't understand at
all. I used to think all poetry must rhyme. You know, two lines ending
with the same sound was all that made poetry, I thought," and she
laughed.

"There must be a thought even in two rhyming lines to make poetry,"
Helmford suggested, gently smiling.

"Ain't it so?" she rejoined. "And some of these poets don't use rhyme
at all. Here's this one. He puzzled me at first."

She seized a volume and opened it with a familiarity which plainly
showed she had been browsing in it before.

"First I didn't know what to make of him. I read about 'When Lilacs
Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd' and somehow I couldn't make it sound like
poetry. Yet parts of it just made me shiver--just the reading of 'em."
Helmford nodded appreciatively. "That was even before I knew the piece
was about Abraham Lincoln and the passing of his funeral train through
the country. That must have been wonderful!"

"It was wonderful," agreed the young man. "And it is wonderful how
Whitman could touch the heartstrings without the tricks of rhyme or of
alliteration."

"But it is--just--poetry?" slowly queried the girl.

"Are the Psalms poetry?" he began, quite as eagerly interested as she
was now. "See! The man's style is based on them." He read, and with
expression:

"'Now while I sat in the day and look'd forth,

In the close of the day with its light and the fields of spring,
and the farmers preparing their crops,

In the large unconscious scenery of my land with its lakes and
forests,

In the heavenly aerial beauty (after the perturb'd winds and the
storms),

Under the arching heavens of the afternoon swift passing, and the
voices of children and women,

The many-moving seatides, and I saw the ships how they sail'd,

And the summer approaching with richness, and the fields all busy
with labor,

And the infinite separate houses, how they all went on, each with
its meals and minutia of daily usages,

And the streets how their throbbings throbb'd, and the cities
pent--lo, then and there,

Falling upon them all and among them all, enveloping me with the
rest,

Appear'd the cloud, appear'd the long black trail,

And I knew death, its thought, and the sacred knowledge of death.'"

"But, oh!" cried Pearl, "he can write rhyming verses, too. This 'O
Captain! My Captain!' He must have loved Mr. Lincoln. It makes me cry
to read _that_ one. This about the lilacs--of course, it isn't about
lilacs, only lilac time--thrills me, makes me _feel_."

"Ah, Pearly," murmured Helmford, "that is the acid test of all poetry."

Then he brought himself up "all a-standing," How was he talking to
this girl? How was he thinking of her? This girl who seemed to him to
possess only a certain beauty to recommend her? Was she, after all,
like these other Cardhaven girls he had met?

Her sweet face was alive with interest. Her eyes glowed. Her figure
palpitated before him, the full bosom rising and falling as the waves
of feeling pressed on her while he read the lines.

"Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it beautiful?" sighed Pearl, when he had
finished.

Her hand outstretched for the book met his lightly as he released
the volume. The touch thrilled them both. Helmford sat forward in his
chair. A flush mounted from the turned-back neck of her simple gown and
flooded all her throat and face.

And at that instant, with their hands almost clasped, Tom Petty
abruptly opened the door.

"What did I tell you, Marm?" snarled the lout, as the startled pair
sprang apart. "Here she is."

Sarah Petty, her sharp face seemingly sharper than ever, thrust herself
into the room before her son.

"Pearl Holden, you march yourself down to the kitchen! I want to see
you, my gal. No! Leave that book here. I won't have you foolin' away
your time on books when you leave ha'f your work undone. Go 'long, now,
I tell you."

The girl went by her with flaming face and tear-bedewed eyes. To be
thus spoken to before Mr. Helmford seemed hard indeed to bear.

Helmford arose promptly. There was something on the tip of his tongue
that perhaps he would better have said. His mild look was gone and his
shell-rimmed spectacles did not hide the sternness of his expression as
he asked Tom:

"Did you wish to see me for anything?"

"Naw. I don't want to see you," sneered the scowling youth.

"When next you come to my room, _knock_," said Helmford. He turned his
shoulder to them both and sat down again in his easy chair before the
fire, picking up the book Pearl's slim fingers had so recently held.

"Hoh!" snorted the admonished Tom. But his mother pushed him out of the
room and retired herself without making the boarder any reply.

In the cold hall she hissed into the enraged Tom's ear:

"_Now_ see what you've done! You want me to lose his board money, do
ye, you good-for-nothin'? 'Twixt you an' that gal----"

"Yah!" snarled Tom, for once openly antagonizing her, "there ain't
nothin' out of the way between me an' Pearly. It's what is between her
an' that city feller."

"What do you care, Tom Petty?"

"I do care. Pearly ain't for him----"

"Nor she ain't for you," snapped his mother.

"I'll have her if I want," blustered her son, his pale eyes gleaming.

"I'll put her out of the house as sure as mornin' comes!" panted Sarah
Petty.

"An' I'll go with her," declared Tom.

"You do, and you'll go for good," she threatened.

"Aw, what d'you s'pose I'd care?" he sneered, knowing full well his
strength with her. "You ain't got nothin' here I can't get along
without. You say yourself Uncle Jonah can take most of it away from
you if he has that note of grandpop's, and is so minded."

"Sh!" she commanded fiercely.

"I won't 'sh!' for you," he growled. "Who do you think you're talkin'
to--a kid?"

He grumbled on, following her down the stairs and back to the kitchen
to which Pearl had preceded them. Orrin Petty, iron-rimmed glasses
perched on nose, was reading the _Paulmouth Argus_ beside the kitchen
lamp. Pearl stood defiantly, with clenched fists, in the middle of the
room.

"You--you little rat!" gasped Sarah Petty, hoarsely, bursting into the
kitchen and approaching the girl with an energy that seemed to precede
a blow.

"Don't you strike me, Miz Petty!" cried Pearl, stepping back a pace.
"Don't you ever strike me again! I'm too old for that and I won't stand
it."

"Hoity-toity!" exclaimed Orrin, dropping his paper. "What a long tail
our old cat's got! Can't you women folks give us no peace at all?"

Tom slouched into the kitchen without a word. Sarah Petty seemed poised
like a rattlesnake, ready to strike. But there was something in the
girl's attitude that held the woman back.

"You didn't have no call to speak to me the way you did before Mr.
Helmford," said Pearl, her voice shrill. "I work for you, but I'm not
your slave."

"You're a pauper!" hissed Sarah Petty. "You're beholden for your food
and drink to me an' your uncle----"

"He isn't my uncle!" declared Pearl fiercely. "And you are not related
to me, either. Nor Tom."

"Why, you impudent little baggage!" Sarah Petty gasped.

"And if you don't want me here, I can find some other place to work,"
went on Pearl desperately. "I'm not beholden to you from choice, and
you know it."

"What's the matter? What's the matter?" inquired Orrin Petty again.

"This ungrateful baggage!" cried his wife. "I told you often enough,
Orrin Petty, you'd never ought to brought her home. She's a temptation
an' a stumbling-block to our Tom----"

"_Tom!_" Pearl's scorn pricked the shell of Tom's conceit. The look she
gave the lout seared his very soul.

"Oh, yes!" he said harshly. "Think you're fit for something better than
me, don't you? Ain't got no more use for me."

"Tom Petty!" shrilled his mother.

"No. I've no use for you," Pearl said, driven to desperation by her
wrongs. "You can give me the money you borrowed of me to pay your
gambling debts, and your mother can set me free. I'll go fast enough
then, and thank you both."

"What's that? What do you mean?" shrieked Sarah Petty.

She sprang from the chair she had seated herself in but the moment
before and darted at the girl, her fingers crooked and extended like
talons. Sarah Petty's instincts were primeval.

But before she reached her victim the door at the foot of the rear
staircase was burst open and Cap'n Jonah in his shirt and trousers, and
with his stockinet nightcap on his head, thrust himself before the girl.

"Belay that!" he commanded in a deep-sea growl. "What's goin' on here?
Ain't you satisfied, Sarah Petty, to work this gal double tides,
without bringin' her to the mast ev'ry now an' then for a taste of the
cat? I tell ye, I won't stand no more of it."

[Illustration: "Belay that!" he commanded in a deep sea growl.]

"You--you----" Sarah Petty could not find an expression to fit the
occasion. Or else caution held her tongue with a sudden grip. "Did you
hear what the little minx just said?"

"Yes," replied Cap'n Jonah. "I heard her. I heard her say that she lent
money to Tom Petty to pay back to the Ladies Aid money that he'd took
an' gambled away at the cattle show. And it s'prised me jest as much as
it does you, Sarah."

He spoke more mildly, but his eyes flamed as he held the shrinking Tom
with their gaze.

"She'd oughter be thrashed, old as she is!" cried Sarah Petty.

"I dunno but she had," agreed Cap'n Jonah, "for ever lending him a
penny, anyway. I thought I'd headed off the young sculpin from borryin'
of Pearly at all."

"What's that you say?" demanded his niece. "The little liar----"

"You air speakin' of Tom, ain't you, Sarah?" interrupted the master
mariner boldly. "It ain't Pearly that's lied. I heard it all from my
chamber winder. It was the first night I come here. Tom got into a
pea-and-shell game at that fair and lost ev'ry dollar he had--Ladies
Aid money and all.

"He whined around Pearly like a whipped puppy until the gal promised to
lend him enough to pay you back, out of the little tad of money she'd
saved up. I couldn't hear to that, you know," continued Cap'n Jonah,
with less acrimony. "So I caught Tom airly the next mornin' and made
him a present so't he wouldn't be tempted, as _I_ thought, to take
money from the gal. But I didn't know the feller as well as I do now,"
and the mariner's scorn was biting. "Did he take your money that time,
after all, Pearly?"

The girl, now unable to speak for the swelling of her throat, nodded.

"He's a purty poor fish, this boy, Tom, of yours, Sarah," said Cap'n
Jonah. "He'll not only hide himself behind a gal, but he'll rob her."

"Aw," put in Tom in self-defense, "I'm goin' to pay her back all right.
I was only teasin' her."

"Le's see you do it," said the captain tartly, striking for Pearly
while the iron was hot.

Sarah Petty, silent for the moment with fury, suddenly dug under her
skirt for the deep pocket she always wore. She drew forth her purse.

"_I'll_ pay the minx back," she said. "Of course Tom was only foolin'.
But if you ever do sech a thing again, Tom Petty, I'll disown you! You
see, now, I hope, what it means to mix up with pauper baggage like this
gal."

"Belay that, I tell you!" commanded Cap'n Jonah, betrayed into an
excitement he had occasion to regret later.

"I'd like to know, Jonah Hand, what int'rest _you_ have got in this
gal?" snapped his niece, driven beyond the point of endurance.

"I'll tell ye right now," said the master mariner, sternly, "she ain't
goin' to be treated like she was dirt under your feet no more. I've a
mind to see the selectmen myself about it, and take her away."

"What do you mean?" gasped Orrin, putting in his oar at last. "After we
carin' for her for seven year, an' jest as she's got of some use 'round
the house, do you think we're goin' to let her go?"

"And who'd take the impudent thing in, I'd like to know?" demanded his
wife. "After they heard that _we've_ got through with her?"

"She's beholden to us for every bite an' sup an' for the clo'es on her
back," added the excited Orrin.

"She'd ought to be beholden to nobody," declared Cap'n Jonah, as Pearl
sobbed upon his shoulder and his shirt-sleeved arm stole around her.
"You folks don't appreciate her; but _I_ do. Whatever! If you don't
take another tack with the gal, you an' Orrin, Sarah, I vow to man
I'll will ev'ry cent I got and all my prop'ty--sech as it is--to Pearl
Holden. She sha'n't be beholden to nobody after I die, anyway."

This bombshell, exploding in the Petty kitchen, left the trio dumb.
Cap'n Jonah pushed the girl, her hand filled with the money Sarah Petty
had paid to her, gently out of the room.

"You go up to bed, my gal, an' forgit it," he said. "I won't see you
harrowed no more."

Then he passed the Petty group with scornful glance, opened the back
stairway door again, and stormed heavily up to his room under the eaves.

"Whatever! Now I guess I have done it," was his murmured comment when
he was again in bed.

CHAPTER XIV

VEERING WINDS

There never had been before as serious a conference between the three
Pettys in that kitchen as this one. Tom might well thank his lucky
stars that Uncle Jonah Hand had thrown his bombshell. The surprise of
it sponged from his mother's mind all immediate thought of his crime,
which had been revealed during the last few minutes.

"There!" was Orrin's whine, first to break the silence after Cap'n
Jonah had departed. "What did I tell ye?"

Sarah glared at her husband furiously. Tom licked his lips and doubled
his fists. He could have pommeled his father and pommeled him well!

"Aw--you----" he began, but helplessly.

"Orrin Petty," said Sarah at last, "if you knew so much--and if you
know so much now--why didn't you bring out your stores of wisdom before
things come to this pass? Do you realize what it means? There's no fool
like an old fool. If Uncle Jonah has taken a fancy to Pearly an' wills
her his fortune, where'll we be, I want to know?"

"Jest about here, or hereabout," responded Orrin, for once undaunted by
his wife's sharp tongue. "But it looks like we won't have so much money
as mebbe we would have had, if ye'd taken my advice and gone easy with
your Uncle Jonah."

"We don't know that he's got much of a fortune even now," said the
woman sourly. Her quick mind was beginning to function again with
its usual shrewdness. She had only been stunned by Cap'n Jonah's
declaration. She was rapidly recovering. "We don't know----"

"I knowed it all along," put in Tom, siding with his father for the
nonce. "When Uncle Jonah give me that money----"

"How much did he give you?" interrupted his mother sharply.

"A twenty-dollar bill. Handed it out just as though it growed on bushes
and he had a private patch of his own," chuckled Tom.

"See that boy laugh!" exclaimed Orrin. "He ain't got no idee of how
serious this may be for us all. If Cap'n Jonah wills away his prop'ty,
whatever it may be, and makes a demand on your father's estate, Sarah,
for principal and int'rest on that two thousand dollar note----"

"You go fish!" exclaimed Sarah Petty, in exasperation. "If I ever did
despise anybody it's them that always bring out their hindsight for
their foresight. Looks like the aig's been broken; le's see if we can
save the shell, anyway."

"Of course, mebbe he ain't got much," said the cautious Orrin.

"There you go again!" ejaculated his wife with disgust. "Leavin' a hole
to creep out of backwards! I thank heaven I ain't the same kind of a
fool you be, Orrin Petty, if I am one!

"It looks to me like we'd fooled ourselves," went on Sarah practically.
"But that don't mean we air sure to lose anything that's worth keeping.
Uncle Jonah must be a mighty secret man--nothing at all like what
father was. Father'd turn himself inside out jest as easy as you'd skin
an eel. But Jonah Hand is secret--if he's got a fortune. He don't let
no papers relating to it lie around where a body might see 'em. And he
must have something to will, or he wouldn't have spoke up so free when
he was mad, as he did jest now."

"Hoh!" growled Tom. "If he _does_ give it all to Pearly----"

"You shet your mouth!" commanded his mother tartly. "You've made enough
mess for once, Tom Petty. Your foolin' with that gal is the root of
all the trouble. Comin' down here jes' now and telling me she was in
Helmford's room----"

"An' she was!"

Sarah Petty overrode his voice, pursuing her topic with shrewdness:

"Your Uncle Jonah is a masterful man after all. He ain't give way to
his temper afore; but that ain't sayin' he ain't got none. He speaks
like a man that means what he says an' says what he means. He may march
off to Paulmouth to-morrow and make a will in Pearly's favor."

"That would be a nice to-do," groaned Orrin.

"I dunno," said Sarah, eyeing Tom wrathfully. "It's all along of this
boy's actions. And it seems, Orrin Petty, that you brought Pearl home
here jest to make trouble for us all. Course, the gal's long ago set
her cap for Tom."

The youth began to preen. It bolstered his conceit to hear his mother
say this.

"You know how girls are, Marm," he murmured.

"An' I know how you be, Tom Petty," she rejoined grimly. "I found out
to-night if never before. You're tangled up with this gal your father
brought home against _my_ wishes," (Orrin stirred uneasily; this was a
bare-faced falsehood) "and I don't see but we'll haf to make the best
of it. Though I don't see what we're to say to your Uncles 'Poley and
Perseus, _and_ their wives. The gal's sech a numbskull----"

"She's a good looker," Orrin ventured. "Dress her up----"

"Who says she's a good looker?" flared Sarah, who would never be too
old to cavil at another woman's beauty. "She's a pink-faced little
rat! But she's good enough, I guess, for this Tom Petty. He don't
deserve nothin' better. And if this old tramp does give the dratted
girl his money it needn't go out of the fam'ly."

"Goshamighty! what's that you air sayin', Sarah?" demanded Orrin, while
Tom stared at his mother in open-mouthed amazement.

"If he's got any money," Sarah steadily pursued, "and he gives it to
Pearl, we'll know for sure soon enough. You're detarmined to marry her,
Tom----"

"I dunno as I am," interrupted Tom, bound not to be driven.

"You'll jest haf to marry her, I s'pose, it's gone so far," said his
mother, licking her thin lips and her green eyes snapping. "And when
you do, Uncle Jonah's money will be as good as yours. And this place
when we die, an' such prop'ty as your pop an' I may have. So if Uncle
Jonah ever brings up that old note of your grandpa's it won't amount to
nothin'."

"Goshamighty!" exclaimed the eager Orrin, again. "Jest like takin'
money from one pants pocket and puttin' it in t'other."

"Course we'll find out for sure, first," added Sarah, "if Uncle Jonah
really has got anything worth willin' to anybody."

"How you goin' to?" demanded Tom. "You ain't found out a thing so far,
Marm. Only what he just said."

"I am a-goin' to ask him straight, _has_ he," declared Sarah Petty.
"It's for Pearl's own good I'll ask him. To protect her. He's promised
her something and we're her guardeens. We must know if he means what he
says and how much she is to be benefited by his will. And see to it he
makes a will, into the bargain."

"You'd better go easy--you'd better go easy," Orrin warned, although
quite used to his wife's assertive ways and her ability to see ahead
and, as she expressed it, "trim her sails accordin'." "If he died
intes--intes----Wal, without makin' a will--his money'd come straight
to you, Sarah Petty."

"We don't know how long he's got to live," said his wife practically.
"The Hands is tougher than pine knots. There ain't a thing the matter
with him but rheumatics. He may live along for twenty year.

"After all's said and done, he might not do a single solitary thing
for me," confessed Sarah Petty. "I can git board money out of him, but
that's about all. If he's taken a fancy to Pearly, however, he may be
encouraged to do a lot for her--and for Tom. That's what we must look
out for. Tom, you keep on bein' nice to your Uncle Jonah. P'r'aps he'll
hand out more money to ye--though 'twon't do ye no good if ye don't
put it in the bank, I must say."

"And then it'll do the bankers good," said Tom with scorn. "What's
money for?"

"You'll find out one o' these days, you young spendthrift," said his
father tartly.

"I s'pose the gal would fall into your arms, Tom, if you asked her to
marry you?" said Sarah Petty thoughtfully.

Tom grinned broadly. "She uster like me. You see how she lent me that
money. But since this Helmford feller's come here she's got crazy 'bout
him. You can see that."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed his mother. "You speak up nice to Pearly and
she'll see you mean business. Of course she's always wanted ye,"
insisted the woman, determined to see the matter in no other light "But
I don't want you to do anything, or say anything, to make Mr. Helmford
mad. I'll speak to him about her bein' in his room. _That_ ain't
decent. But I ain't goin' to lose a good boarder like him along of your
foolishness, Tom Petty."

Tom grunted a disavowal of any belief in his mother's way of putting
it. He knew in his heart that Pearl had given him little reason of late
to think she cared an iota for him. But he was too much his mother's
son after all to admit this. He determined secretly to get Helmford
out of the house. "Out of sight, out of mind" was Tom's doctrine. He
believed, in his conceit, that he could make Pearl forget the man from
the fish hatchery if the latter were gone.

"All you've got to do is to salve these girls over, and talk to 'em
pretty," mused Tom. "That'll fetch 'em ev'ry time."

So the three Pettys sought their beds on this frosty night, all with
thoughts to keep them awake. In other rooms in the house three other
members of the household were likewise wakeful.

Pearl cried herself to sleep finally. She was ashamed after what had
happened to face Mr. Helmford again. She thought not at all of Cap'n
Jonah's threat which had created the fear of disaster in the Petty
camp. She was only grateful to the old mariner for taking her part.

Joe Helmford had spent a very unsatisfactory evening after the abrupt
visit of Tom Petty and his mother. He was half determined to leave the
house at the end of the week. These Pettys were almost unendurable.

And then he began to wonder what effect his going so abruptly would
have on Pearl Holden? He knew that she was treated unkindly by the
Pettys. He had often seen tears in her eyes and Sarah's sharp, shrill
voice could not fail to reach his ear on more than one occasion when
she was berating her little drudge.

Helmford had suddenly got a new revelation of Pearl's character. He had
begun to appreciate not alone her sweetness but the real depth of her
nature. The girl easily assimilated new things. Her mind was thirsty
for knowledge. She was beginning already to blossom into a fuller
mental development.

This young man who heretofore had given such small thought to any woman
found himself lying awake at night thinking of this girl.

Physically she was charming, as well as sweet of nature. He visualized
her as his sisters and cousins were wont to dress. Why, in appearance
she would vie with the best of them. Her speech--well, of course, it
was tinged somewhat by the environment in which she was born. But that
was not a fault that could not be rectified, Helmford decided.

When a young man allows his mind to run along in such vein, with any
particular girl as the visioned object of his thoughts, he is bordering
upon a state of feeling that leads directly to matrimony. But Joe
Helmford drew back from this and resolutely refused to face it.

He punched his pillow again and determinedly went to sleep.

At the other end of the house, in the crooked little room over the
kitchen, Cap'n Jonah was likewise wakeful. In the first place he was
cold. Sarah had not given him bed-clothes enough. He had closed his
window, which was against the tenets of a lifelong belief in fresh air,
and still he shook in his bed.

Running down stairs in his stocking feet to defend Pearly had chilled
Cap'n Jonah to the bone. His teeth chattered. He could feel the tip of
his nose turning to a numb lump of flesh. Icicles formed against the
edge of the thin blanket where his breath was expelled. He could hear
the ice cracking in his water pitcher.

But even in such a plight Cap'n Jonah might have slept, at least
fitfully, had it not been for his thoughts. His excitement and anger
should have heated the old mariner so that physical cold could not
touch him.

He had given way to his temper and vented his rage in a way quite
foreign to his habit. Cap'n Jonah usually had complete mastery of
himself.

But the treatment accorded Pearl had finally brought the deeper
feelings of the master mariner to the surface. He was unable longer to
endure in silence the pain of seeing the girl so abused.

Tom's desperate meanness, too, served to whip the old man's rage to
a froth. And that froth was what had spilled upon the startled Petty
family when Cap'n Jonah made his astonishing threat.

"Whatever! Now I _have_ done it!" he kept repeating to himself as he
lay in his uncomfortable bed. "I've got to do somethin'--I really have.
Got to make good that bluff. I could see Sarah and Orrin was all
struck of a heap. If they think I've got money an' that Pearly may get
it if they don't treat her better, they'll near 'bout turn themselves
inside out to salve her over--an' me, too.

"But, whatever!" he concluded. "Somehow, I must make good that bluff.
If I ain't a rich man, I've got to make them think I am."

CHAPTER XV

MISUNDERSTANDINGS

When Cap'n Jonah Hand awoke from a final fitful sleep the following
morning, he thought at first any scheme he might have for the befooling
of the Pettys must be postponed. When he awoke to find the edge of a
red sun peeping above the sea-line, he could scarcely turn over in bed.

"Whatever! It's got me!" groaned the master mariner, and something like
fear clawed at his staunch old heart.

He had passed through storm and stress at sea for nearly half a
century and had never shown the white feather. As he once related to
'Liphalet Truitt, he had faced death at the hands of savages, and death
in a most horrid form, without a quiver. He had been rich without
losing his poise; he had been utterly penniless, yet had retained
his cheerfulness. The ups and downs of life had left Jonah Hand,
despite his given name, a man who believed in his own good fortune and
submitted to such buffets as he suffered with composure.

Here was something new. "To be cast upon his beam ends," as he termed
it, by such an enemy as this, discouraged him. He had felt premonitions
of the ailment for several years. He had seen many seamen go down
before this enemy, who would have stood staunchly to face the elements,
or against the troubles that are the common lot of man.

"Oh! Ah! Ouch! Whatever!" groaned the captain, turning over by fits and
starts.

Every movement hurt him. His joints seemed to have stiffened during the
night, and whenever he sought to bend them, sharp pains shot through
them. Even his fingers had no flexibility.

"It's got me--the dratted rheumatics!" he muttered. "I might ha' knowed
it, after trottin' over that cold floor an' up an' down the stairs
without my shoes. Ouch! Whatever!"

He felt that he could not rise--he who was always the first of the
household astir. He heard Orrin and Tom come yawning down into the
kitchen. They started the fire in the range and shook down the
sitting-room stove and opened the drafts. Then they went out to do the
barn chores.

"Goshamighty!" rose Orrin's querulous voice on the frosty air, "barn
pump's froze tighter'n a drumhead. Bring a kittle of boilin' water,
Tom."

Sarah Petty's heels were now heard tapping over the kitchen floor. For
once Pearl came last. Cap'n Jonah, overhead, did not hear a word spoken
between the two women.

The silence he thought seemed ominous. What was about to occur? Would
there be a flare-up between Sarah and her little drudge and would Cap'n
Jonah immediately have to make good his threat of taking Pearl away?

"And me on a lee shore the way I be!" groaned Cap'n Jonah. "No two ways
about it: I have got myself into a mess."

How would he be able to act independently, or to aid Pearl in any way,
if he was flat on his back? Why, he could not even get down to Cap'n
Abe's to see if the storekeeper had thought up any scheme to help him,
as he had promised.

The preparations for breakfast went on. He could hear the rattling
of dishes and pans; the sound of the pump at the spout of which the
tea-kettle had to be filled for a second time; the sputtering of
sausages in the pan. Then the odors rose to him in that mysterious way
they have of penetrating old houses; the aroma of coffee; the spicy
smell of home-made sausage meat; the odor of cornmeal johnny-cakes,
white as snow in the middle, baked brown on both sides, ready to split
and be deluged with "white gravy."

Cap'n Jonah heard Sarah go to the front stairs and call Helmford. Then
she went to the door of the covered porch and shouted for Orrin and
Tom. There followed a murmur of voices below; then came Pearl's light
step upon the back stairs.

"Cap'n Jonah!" she called outside his door.

"Whatever!" groaned the old seaman. "Hullo! Ouch! Ain't so spry this
mornin' as us'al, Pearly."

Pearl heard his bed creak and knew he was not up. She opened the door
and peered in.

"Oh, Cap'n Jonah! is anything the matter?"

"Guess so. Rheumatics, Pearly. They've got me laid by the heels."

"Dear me! So bad you can't get up?" queried the girl.

"I'll get up by and by. Don't bother 'bout me. Ouch! Whatever!"

"My! you must be pretty bad, Cap'n Jonah. Do you want I should do
anything for you?"

"Not a thing, my gal," declared the independent old skipper. "I ain't
quite scuttled yet--no sir! I'll warp myself out o' here by noon. Don't
you fuss none."

Pearly returned below stairs and before sitting down to eat her own
breakfast she arranged a tray for Cap'n Jonah and carried it up to him.
She propped him up in bed with a chair and pillows at his back, and
helped him get the tray in position. She brought him a warmer quilt
from her own room.

"It's cold enough in here to freeze the coffee 'fore you can drink it,"
Pearl declared. "Let me wrap this around you, Cap'n Jonah."

"Thank you, my gal," said the old man. "I won't forgit your kindness."

"Nor I won't forget yours," she whispered before she left him, and
patted his mahogany cheek lightly.

It was like a stroke to Cap'n Jonah's heart--this last. He thought
Pearl was referring to his promise of making her his heir. He was near
to being as suspicious about the avariciousness of those around him as
was Eliphalet Truitt.

And good reason he had for that. To live with people like the Pettys
was enough to canker the most generous and unsuspicious nature.

"Whatever! I got to see Cap'n Abe. He's my only hope now," murmured
the master mariner. "Won't never do for Pearly, poor gal, to be
disappointed."

But the girl had no thoughts of a mercenary nature. That Cap'n Jonah
should have faced the Pettys and browbeaten them in her behalf was
sufficient to fill Pearl's heart with gratitude. She never thought a
second time of the old man's threat. In her confusion of mind at the
time, she had scarcely apprehended what his speech meant.

What Pearl shrank from most of all this morning was meeting Joe
Helmford. When she returned from giving Cap'n Jonah his tray, the
boarder was at the table. He greeted her, as he had all, with his
customary "good morning." But no smile accompanied it, and he confined
his speech during the meal to requests relating to the food.

In fact a pall seemed to hang over the Petty household; and yet the
family were less acrimonious and fault-finding than usual. To Pearl
they were scrupulously polite, and Sarah Petty more than once expressed
her anxiety regarding the absent Cap'n Jonah.

"You'd better step up after breakfast, Orrin, and see if you can do
anything for him," Mrs. Petty said. "Uncle Jonah is beginning to feel
his years, I shouldn't wonder."

But Orrin slipped out of the house immediately after breakfast without
venturing above to Cap'n Jonah's chamber. He felt some awkwardness
about appearing before the old man after what had occurred the previous
evening.

Of course, the lout could not be expected to confront his great-uncle
at such a time; and even Sarah herself felt some unwonted embarrassment
in greeting Cap'n Jonah. So it was Pearl who went up to get the tray
and to inquire solicitously for a bulletin of health.

She found Cap'n Jonah out of bed and struggling with the crooked mirror
and a dull razor. Every morning the old man scrupulously shaved his
cheeks and lips. The fringe of gray beard and his hair were carefully
brushed as well. The captain always looked as neat as a new pin.

He looked out at her from behind a mask of cold lather and tried to
grin cheerfully. "Purty hard scrabblin', Pearly," he remarked. "My
fingers are stiffer than a frozen bowline."

"You should have a fire, Cap'n Jonah," she said tenderly. "It's real
mean! This is the coldest end of the house anyway. And you have had no
warm water."

"Ne'er mind. Don't fuss. I'll be out o' here all right. There'll be a
change o' wind before long, my gal."

Pearl did not fully understand him, but she thought the statement
likely to be so. At the bottom of the stairs, listening, she found
Sarah Petty.

"What's that he says?" demanded the woman in a sharp whisper. "He's
goin' to get out o' here?"

"So he says," Pearl replied, scarcely understanding Mrs. Petty's
anxiety.

Sarah Petty stepped back, staring at the girl with eyes that glittered
like a snake's. She closed the door at the bottom of the stairs with a
careful hand.

"Don't you let him do that, Pearl Holden!" she hissed. "You have a
care. You'll find it a whole lot better to have me for a friend than an
enemy. Now, mind that! You keep Uncle Jonah here."

"Me?" gasped the girl in surprise. "What have I to do with it?"

Mrs. Petty's speech amazed her. Indeed, the treatment accorded her on
this morning by all the family greatly puzzled Pearl Holden.

In the first place, the clack of Sarah Petty's tongue seemed to be
muffled. The woman scarcely spoke to her, and never to find fault. This
was her single outbreak of ill-temper. Orrin, when he came for the
can of grease for the harness, which was kept soft behind the kitchen
stove, asked her for it with a "please" tacked to the request.

She was sweeping the big lower front hall when Tom came blundering
through. She would not have spoken to him, but he would not be denied.

"Say! you ain't goin' to stay mad with me, are you, Pearly?" he asked
with a grin.

She looked at him with an angry spark in either eye; but Tom would not
be warned.

"Aw, come, now, Pearly!" he said. "You know you like me. I was just
foolin'----"

As he approached she backed away into a corner and held the broom
straight out before her.

"You keep your foolin' to yourself, Tom Petty!" she cried. "Get away
from me!"

"Aw, now, Pearly!" he exclaimed, half laughing and half his ugly self.
To be denied made him angry. He seized the handle of the broom.

"Keep away from me!" panted the girl.

Tom was by far the stronger. He quickly wrenched the broom from her
hands. Pearl screamed. Tom had his arm around her waist and she was
fighting him off with both hands.

"Come on, Pearly! Give us a kiss," he said, still only half in earnest.
"Le's you an' me be good friends again."

A door slammed above as though in answer to the girl's half stifled
shriek. The quick step of Joe Helmford saved her. Tom uttered an
imprecation and flung away the broom. But the boarder, descending the
stairs, saw them both--the girl with flaming face and drooping eyes,
and the young fellow standing before her in a most suggestive attitude.
Helmford went right on without speaking. He thought his appearance had
been most inopportune, and that he had interfered in a tender scene
between Pearl and Tom.

CHAPTER XVI

THE ALLEGORY

Cap'n Jonah hobbled downstairs in season for the noonday dinner. "Jest
about as spry as a crippled fiddler crab," he expressed it. But after
the meal he insisted upon going out of doors.

Helmford assisted him, although Sarah tried to get Tom to offer his arm
first. The lout, however, was backward and Helmford went down the lane
with the old mariner.

"Something of a squall last night," muttered Cap'n Jonah in Helmford's
ear. "Did you hear it?"

"Why, no. I didn't know it stormed last night. But I know it was very
cold," replied the young man.

"Whatever! I should say it was cold," the captain agreed. "But I meant
the squall in the house."

"Oh!" Helmford's expression changed.

"Sarah and them pickin' on Pearly the way they've been doin' has got to
be stopped."

"Oh!"

"I had to put my foot down," went on Cap'n Jonah, boldly. "She sha'n't
be brow-beaten no more. What I've got shall be that gal's when I'm dead
an' gone, and then she sha'n't be beholden to no Petty."

"Oh!"

"Whatever!" exclaimed Cap'n Jonah, exasperated. "Ain't you got nothin'
but 'O's' left inside you?"

"Er--not much, I guess, Cap'n Jonah. You take my breath away. Do you
mean you are going to make Miss Pearl your heir?"

"That's what I mean to do," the old man said firmly, "if them Pettys
don't treat her better. Of course, the gal ain't nothin' by blood to
me. Though the Hands, and the Holdens, and the Cards, and most of the
other old families hereabout are a good deal mixed up.

"Just the same," continued Cap'n Jonah, almost convincing himself of
the reality of his plans as he went along, "I might do better willin'
my property to Pearly than leaving it to Sarah Petty and her lout of a
son. What do you think, Mr. Helmford?"

"I--I do not feel myself qualified to advise, Cap'n Hand. It is a
delicate matter," said Helmford slowly, and left him at the highway.

"Ye-as. It's purty delicate, I do allow," muttered Cap'n Jonah.
"Whatever!"

He turned shoreward himself. The surf boomed with a threatening sound
along The Beaches. Had he given thought to the matter he would have
expressed it as his opinion that this was a weather-breeder. Clear
as the sky was, there was a threatening haze along the horizon. He
believed the barometer must be falling. The gulls stormed overhead and
the white-maned sea-horses charged upon and over the Gull Rocks reef.

Cap'n Jonah found the gold-headed cane a great help on this sunny
afternoon. His joints were limbering slowly, but the attack of the
morning had warned him of what was likely to come on him at almost any
time. Articular rheumatism comes and goes, striking unexpectedly the
victim. Cap'n Jonah felt that he must do what he could for Pearl--and
for himself--immediately. He might be laid up, a cripple, for a long
time.

As he approached Cap'n Abe's store he saw a long, low-hung
russet-painted roadster standing before the door. The engine was
throbbing gently and the car seemed like a spirited horse, eager to be
off along the road. Cap'n Jonah had seen the motor car before speeding
up and down the Shell Road.

In it at present was a young man with a healthy wash of tan upon his
face and the look of an athlete in every curve of his long body. Beside
him sat a smiling young woman. It seemed to Cap'n Jonah she was the
happiest looking woman he had ever seen. She held a bundle in her lap,
and above it her face glowed with health and the joy of living.

Cap'n Abe was at the side of the car handing in certain packages that
the driver of the automobile was stowing away.

"Ahoy, Cap'n Hand!" the storekeeper hailed when he saw the captain.
"Come meet my niece Louise and Mr. Lawford Tapp, her husband. Not to
forgit," Cap'n Abe added, chuckling, "the last Tapp of all," and he
poked a horny finger at the bundle in the girl's lap.

Cap'n Jonah managed to call up a twisted smile in spite of the twinges
of pain he suffered, and met a pair of warm and friendly handclasps
from the young couple--for Lawford and Louise Tapp were very loyal Cape
Codders at heart.

"That little feller," said the proud and delighted Cap'n Abe, as Louise
turned back the veil to reveal the baby's face for a moment, "near's I
kin make out, is my ha'f-grand-nephew. He's only a half portion now;
but he's goin' to be a big feller like his pop, and he's a-goin' to be
happy an' friendly an' hail-feller-well-met with all the world, like
his marm."

"Now, Uncle Abram!" cried Louise Tapp, "you give me a rather
questionable reputation."

"No, I don't, Louise! No, I don't!" Cap'n Abe urged. "You're one o'
these friendly souls, I do allow, that sweeten this old world of ourn
an' make it fit to live in. Hi-mighty! I do despise, an' always did,
folks that go 'round hangin' their heads an' moanin' an' takin' on like
all kildee, because the world don't go right for them.

"Why, the way to make the world go right," declared the emphatic
storekeeper, "is to get out an' push it right. Put your shoulder to
things! If you want a sartin thing, go out an' git it," and he winked
slyly at Cap'n Jonah.

"Whatever!" ejaculated Cap'n Jonah, approving Cap'n Abe's statement for
once at least. "Ain't it so?"

"You're a philosopher, Cap'n Abe," declared Lawford Tapp, preparing to
drive away. "Glad to have met you, Cap'n Hand. I'd heard we had a new
neighbor. Come over to the Point and see us."

Louise seconded the invitation as the car rolled away. Lawford shifted
to high speed and they shot off at a racing clip.

"Hi-mighty!" said Cap'n Abe. "If them speed demons, L. Tapp and his
wife, don't wreck that racing car _and_ my ha'f-grand-nephew, it'll be
a mercy! Come in, Cap'n Jonah. It's colder'n a dog's nose out here in
the road."

He led the way into the warm store, where there was a glowing fire in
the big stove. The frost had been driven to the outer barrier, and the
smell of heated boots and fishy garments was heavy upon the air. Washy
Gallup, Cap'n Joab, Milt Baker, and Amiel Perdue, as well as others of
the usual loungers, encircled the stove. They made room for Cap'n Jonah
while the storekeeper himself halted to warm his hands at the fire.

"We're in for a spell of Jack Frost, Cap'n Jonah," remarked Washy.

"I shouldn't wonder! I shouldn't wonder!" agreed the mariner addressed.
But he gave little attention to the several greetings of the loungers.
His mind was fixed upon the errand on which he had come. He desired
greatly to get Cap'n Abe off into a corner and sound him upon the
subject of "foolin' them Pettys." Cap'n Abe was his only hope. He took
snuff thoughtfully and rapped his knuckles on the cover of the silver
snuffbox.

"It was jest such another spell of dry cold as this," began the
storekeeper ruminatively, "when Uncle Joe Hanna over to Freedom was
turned out o' house an' home years ago by the sheriff. 'Member that,
Cap'n Joab?"

"Forever an' ever," replied the person addressed. "And ev'rybody else
remembers it, too."

"Wal--mebbe," agreed Cap'n Abe quite composed. The shuffling of feet,
clearing of throats, and other indications of distaste for the expected
yarn did not halt him at all. "It was a hi-mighty cold day," as he had
himself remarked, and he had his audience in chancery.

"Uncle Joe Hanna owned a leetle place where he'd lived all his life,
and he mortgaged it to Jonathan Coffin. Coffin was as hard as nails,
and his wife, Miz Coffin, was as hard as spikes. Hi-mighty! they was a
pair.

"Wal, when Uncle Joe Hanna got too old to work much he couldn't keep
up the int'rest on the mortgage. Ye know," said Cap'n Abe, genially,
"a feller told me once what the word 'mortgage' meant. He said 'mort'
was French for 'death' and 'gage' meant a challenge. So, when a feller
mortgages his home he challenges death to a set-to--an' death usually
wins. I guess that's purty nigh so.

"Anyhow, Uncle Joe might jest as well have been up against the 'grim
reaper,' as Elder Golightly calls it when he gets right poetic in the
pulpit--Uncle Joe might just as well have grappled with death as to
have Jonathan Coffin for a creditor. He was turned out, hoss _an'_
foot, an' didn't have a place to lay his head.

"Course," pursued Cap'n Abe, "the neighbors took him in, turn an' turn
about, and he was made comfortable. But Uncle Joe was proud, and he
wanted his rights. He had paid taxes--sech as they was--all his life,
and he p'inted out to the selectmen that he was wishful of havin' a
home and an abiding place for the rest of his days--sech as it might
be--and didn't propose to be driven from piller to post.

"Ye see," said Cap'n Abe, "at that time Freedom didn't have no
poorfarm. That is, there was a farm but no house onto it an' no
provision made for inmates, as the feller said. So they begun boardin'
Uncle Joe around at the town expense. Plenty of folks would take him.
All but the Widder Blodgett. She was all alone in her house, and
although Uncle Joe was nigh eighty, she didn't think she could take him
in. The neighbors might talk," added Cap'n Abe, his eyes twinkling.

"Wal, Uncle Joe was partic'lar about his food. He'd always been used
to hot biscuit three times a day--made 'em himself after his wife
died--and he craved milk in his chowder, both fish _an'_ clam; an'
good, solid pound cake with plenty aigs in it.

"Nobody seemed to suit his appetite but Jonathan Coffin's wife herself.
She was a master hand to cook; but as she said, what the selectmen
allowed for Uncle Joe's up-keep didn't scurse pay for the grub he et.
He wouldn't do a hand's turn of work, bein' a town boarder, and she
complained to Jonathan that he'd been smarter if he'd let Uncle Joe
live and die in his own house, and waited to git his claws on the old
man's prop'ty through sheriff's sale till after Uncle Joe was under the
sod.

"But by an' by ev'rybody noticed how much nicer the Coffinses began to
treat Uncle Joe. They took him to church in their buggy, and bought
him tobacker, and a new suit of clo'es. And you could see him sittin'
out under the trees in the Coffinses' front yard takin' it easy, an'
all. Folks began to say they'd never suspicioned what re'l kind-hearted
people Jonathan Coffin and his wife was. They treated Uncle Joe lovely!"

Cap'n Abe chuckled reflectively.

"Don't you calc'late to go clammin' to-morrow, Milt?" asked Cap'n Joab
Beecher weakly. But Mr. Baker had just taken a huge and comforting chew
of Brown Mule and was speechless for the moment. So that attempt to
head off the storekeeper's story was still-born.

"But the old man died finally. Hot biscuit, and milk chowder, and
six-aig cake couldn't keep him alive," said Cap'n Abe. "He was long
past the allotted time of man, an' the selectmen sartainly were glad to
see that account wiped off their books. They give him a nice fun'ral.
Jonathan Coffin, they say, helped pay for the extrys. Hadn't had a
pauper funeral in Freedom for two generations, so they just spread
themselves.

"Wal, you'd ha' thought Jonathan an' Miz Coffin had lost a close
rel'tive. She went into mournin'--of course it was a veil she'd worn
years before when her own pop died--and Jonathan went around with a
broad band of crêpe on his arm. Then, the week after Uncle Joe was laid
away, they hustled down to Arad Peck, who was a lawyer, and took with
'em an old black satchel Uncle Joe had set gre't store by. It seemed
Uncle Joe had made a will in their favor, they'd treated him so nice,
and in the satchel was all the old man's private papers.

"Wal, sir!" continued Cap'n Abe, smiling broadly, "on the face of 'em
them papers made out Uncle Joe Hanna to have been a regular miser. He'd
hid away securities and deeds wuth a scand'lous amount. Hi-mighty! It
struck Arad Peck all aback.

"Then he begun to go through 'em, and sift 'em out, and make
comparisons, and he found out them valu'bles of Uncle Joe's was wuth
jest a cent an' a ha'f a pound. Waste paper brung a purty good price at
that time."

"Whatever!" ejaculated the single listener unfamiliar with the
denouement of the story. "Wuthless?"

"'Ceptin' to the junkman," chuckled Cap'n Abe. "Seems Uncle Joe had
found them ancient and useless dockyments in an old safe he'd bought
and cleaned out one time. They was a collection of certificates and
deeds and sich that never had been wuth more than ten per cent. of
their face value, in all probability, and had been deteriorating since
the year one.

"But they sarved," concluded the narrator, "to gull the Coffinses
nicely. Paid Jonathan up for overreachin' Uncle Joe. He played a trick
on 'em that I dunno as the parsons would approve; but as I see it, they
was sarved right."

Cap'n Abe went around behind the counter again and an audible sigh of
relief was expelled by most of his audience. By all but Cap'n Jonah.
He remained in a reflective mood. Suddenly, as the hum of general
conversation rose again about the stove, Cap'n Jonah slapped his leg
heartily.

"Whatever!" he ejaculated.

"See the p'int, Cap'n Hand?" asked the storekeeper slyly.

"Whatever!" repeated Cap'n Jonah. "I sh'd say I do!"

CHAPTER XVII

THE STRONG BOX

Perry Baker, the cadaverous expressman, whose ancient gray horse
immediately went to sleep standing in the shafts when his master drew
up before any destination, had occasion a day or two later to pass
Eliphalet Truitt's door. The ex-steward was pottering about his tiny
front yard in the frosty air.

"How be ye, 'Liphalet?" demanded Perry, with frank curiosity. "How ye
feelin'? Huldy heard you wasn't right chipper and she wanted I sh'd
ask."

"By Hannah!" snapped the taut little man, his face flaming redder than
usual. "Who says I'm sick, I'd like to know?"

"Why, Doc Ambrose, I b'lieve, said you was out of kilter," said the
astonished Perry, for 'Liphalet was usually the gentlest of men. "Ain't
you?"

"No, I ain't!" replied 'Liphalet ungraciously. "Ain't nothin' the
matter with me except the curiosity of my friends; an' that's struck
in! What ye got for me?"

Perry began to grin more broadly. Cap'n Abe said, "Perry Baker couldn't
drink tea out of a saucer without scalding his ears!" 'Liphalet watched
the expressman now with apprehension, seemingly expecting to see the
ears engulfed within the cavity of Perry's enormous mouth.

"I vow to man! did you expec' anything, 'Liphalet?" he finally gurgled.
"Warn't lookin' for no Christmas gif', was ye?"

"Christmas--_bah_!" ejaculated the highly indignant 'Liphalet. "Who'd
send _me_ anything I didn't pay two prices for, I want to know? Ain't
nothin' for me, then?"

"You can see all I've got. That barrel for Cap'n Abe. And this here
iron box for the Petty place."

"By Hannah!" exclaimed the ex-steward with sudden interest, standing on
tip-toe to peer into the wagon body. "That box? Who's it for?"

"Cap'n Jonah Hand. And b'lieve me," added the expressman, almost in
a whisper, "I'm keepin' my eye on that, 'Liphalet. It was give me at
the Paulmouth National Bank. There was some talk of sendin' the bank
messenger along with me. You know: Phillibeg Aspen. He always carries a
loaded pistol. There must be something mighty valu'ble in that box--an'
'tis heavy as lead."

"By Hannah!" repeated 'Liphalet, in wonder.

"If ye want to know what _I_ think," continued Perry in the same
cautious tone, "I b'lieve there's money in that strong box. They
say Cap'n Jonah Hand is rich as cream! Like enough he is a-goin' to
count his money over to see just how much he's got. What's the matter,
'Liphalet?"

"By Hannah!" choked the ex-steward, hiding his face. "I got a cough. I
guess I must ha' caught cold after all."

"That so? I'll tell Huldy," said Perry briskly. "She makes a lickin'
good cough syrup and she'll send ye some. I'd ruther have a cold than
not, if I can git plenty of Huldy's cough syrup."

The expressman woke up the old gray horse and drove on, leaving
'Liphalet feeling more amused than he had been before in many a long
day. Even the brooding banshee of the Christmas spirit lifted from his
mind for the moment.

"By Hannah!" he murmured, "I reckon Cap'n Abe has cooked up somethin'
for Jonah Hand, just as he said he would."

The expressman driving up the Petty lane brought all the family save
Cap'n Jonah himself to doors and windows. Even Joe Helmford peered out
with interest to see the heavy steel box, fastened by two big brass
padlocks, lifted down from the wagon.

"For Uncle Jonah? I want to know!" murmured Sarah Petty.

"Hoh! What's in it? Rocks?" mumbled Tom, who helped Perry Baker handle
the box.

"Goshamighty! From the bank?" repeated Orrin.

"Is he here?" asked Perry importantly. "I've got to deliver it to Cap'n
Hand pusson'ly. An' this packet," he added, drawing from his breast
pocket an envelope well spotted with black sealing-wax.

"He's up in his room," said Orrin eagerly.

"Better take it right up to Uncle Jonah, Perry," Sarah observed, her
hands and eyebrows both twitching. Her gaze never left the strong box
as the men carried it through the kitchen.

They stumbled up the crooked back stairs and found Cap'n Jonah ready
for them with his door wide open.

"Howdy, Mr. Baker," he said, cordially, leaning on his gold-headed
cane in the middle of his poor room. "Set that chist right here by the
winder. I shan't want to lift it 'round much, feelin' as rickety as I
do now. And I'll want light to see into it. That's it. Now the keys.
Yep. I'll sign your receipt."

He signed his name to the paper and paid Perry his fee. Tom lingered at
the door of the room, his eyes like knobs. The expressman fell over the
lout as he retreated and pushed him down the stairs ahead of him.

"The old man don't seem very spry," Perry said, in a hoarse whisper, to
the Petty trio. "I don't dispute he feels his years. P'r'aps he won't
have many more chances to look over his--his things. He tells me to
come back again for that box day after to-morrow."

"Yes," Sarah Petty said with set lips. "Good day, Perry."

"There ain't many folks in Cardhaven, I don't guess," pursued the
unabashed expressman, "that's any better off for this world's goods
than Cap'n Hand?"

"Quite prob'ble," snapped Sarah.

"You said yourself, Orrin," went on Perry Baker, "he was a very rich
man, 'cordin' to all you could find out."

Sarah glared at her husband in hot wrath. Orrin shuffled his feet and
said nothing. He was not going to admit or deny the truth of Perry's
artless statement.

"Wal, he's an old man. Right crippled with rheumatics," went on the
expressman. "He'll prob'bly be consider'ble of a care afore he passes
away. But you folk'll have a chance to make his last days happy."

"I'd like to make _your_ last days happy!" hissed Sarah Petty, as the
talkative expressman finally slid out through the kitchen doorway, with
Orrin and Tom barring any chance of his return.

Both men wheeled to face the open kitchen door again as Perry aroused
his old horse and drove away.

"Goshamighty!" exploded Orrin. "What did I----"

"You jest hesh!" hissed Sarah. "You knowed more'n Solomon and all his
seven hundred wives put together. An' you can bet that's why Solomon
knew so much. His wives told him!

"Now, you two git along about your work. Don't you interfere. Act like
you had some pride and manners. You look like hungry houn's snuffin'
around a garbage bucket. Get out with ye!"

"But--but," gasped Orrin, "do you re'lly s'pose there's money in that
box?"

"'Twas heavy enough to be filled chock-a-block with gold and silver,"
declared Tom, quite as eager as his father.

"Don't be sech fools," admonished Sarah Petty. "You can bet Uncle Jonah
ain't so crazy as to have his property in cash. He's got what he's got
invested, of course. In good dividend-paying stocks an' bonds an' sich.
That box is heavy because it is made of iron."

"But there might be treasure in it, too--pearls, or di'monds, or other
precious stones," said Orrin, letting his imagination ride free. "He's
been all through the East where they git sech things. He's knowed
Chinese mandarins, an' Indian rajahs, an' Persian shahs, an'----"

"I don't care," snapped Sarah, "if he knowed the Archon of Swat! _I_
know that Uncle Jonah is too much a Hand to let money or precious
stones lie around idle. 'All cats must ketch mice' is our fam'ly's
motter. He'll be drawin' dividends an' int'rest on ev'ry dollar he
can. You leave it to me, Orrin Petty. I'll find out what Uncle Jonah's
fortune is invested in--an' how much it 'mounts to."

But after all it was Tom, the lout, to whom the mystery was the more
intimately revealed. Orrin fairly sweated all through dinner time,
unable to speak a word for fear he would blurt out some question about
the strong box, but Sarah's eye quelled him.

Cap'n Jonah never mentioned the mystery. But he seemed more cheerful
than of late. To Pearl he was always kind--even fatherly. He and Mr.
Helmford chatted most companionably. The three Pettys felt themselves
rather out of it. Even Sarah's thoughts were so much engrossed by the
matter of the strong box from the bank, that she could not give her
mind to any ordinary conversational topic.

The captain was already "paying 'em back," as he had expressed it to
his crony, 'Liphalet Truitt, and to Cap'n Abe. The more Orrin fidgeted,
and Sarah held herself in by main force, the more cheerful Cap'n Jonah
grew.

There was a settled seriousness in Joe Helmford's manner that the
captain did not notice. Only Pearl saw this, and feared the boarder had
by no means recovered from his indignation of a few nights before.

He had been uniformly kind to her since the evening Sarah Petty had
driven Pearl so ignominiously from his room. But they had never renewed
the intimacy which preceded that unfortunate occasion. Pearl had
continued to borrow books, however, in spite of Mrs. Petty's command to
the contrary.

As for Sarah and Orrin, their treatment of the girl seemed to infer
a change of heart. For the first time since Pearl could remember,
peace--or, at least, an armistice--reigned in the Petty household.

Yet the girl was by no means happy. She felt a positive loss of
something. Helmford's attitude seemed to hold her at a distance. She
could not imagine what she had done to displease him, if displeasure
was the cause of his changed mood.

The girl, simple-minded though she was, was not shallow. She began to
examine her own heart. Why should she care so much about Helmford's
attitude? Aside from her love for books and interest in his library and
conversation, just what hold had Joe Helmford upon Pearl Holden's mind
and heart?

Of course she had felt a certain delight in having a well-dressed,
well-mannered young man, so different from the loutish Tom, about the
house. She responded to a man's attentions just as any other girl
might.

But she had held no foolish thoughts in her heart--or so she
imagined--until now. She respected Mr. Helmford. Did she, indeed, have
another and heretofore unsuspected feeling for him?

Love, to Pearl's mind, was something to hide away and cherish until the
moment came when two hearts, bursting the fetters of form and custom,
should each to the other reveal those depths of feeling from which the
world at large is to be excluded.

Was she in love with Joe Helmford? Was that why the change in his
manner so hurt and surprised her? Had she suddenly become so sensitive
that his lightest word or act meant the disturbance of her peace of
mind?

Pearl Holden could not put this suspicion away. It ate into her
mind like acid. Despite the bitter thoughts and tears Sarah Petty's
treatment for years had caused her, never had Pearl felt the heartache
that now assailed her. She was oppressed with a weight of woe. The
waters of bitterness overflowed her eyes when she was alone and she was
exceedingly sorrowful.

As it chanced, this was the day for the regular meeting of the Ladies'
Aid Society, the last before the holidays. Sarah must attend, but she
left certain directions for Pearl which so amazed the young girl that
she had something besides her own sorrows to think of.

At this time of the year the "front room" was closed tight for the
winter. It was an airless catacomb in which every article was draped
in muslin, including the pictures on the wall and an oval glass on the
mantelpiece under which was what had once been a cluster of wax fruit
and flowers, but which, during the heat of some twenty summers, had
melted and partially run together, until its classification as a work
of art was rather difficult.

There was, too, a large base-burner, all trimmed with shiny nickel, and
in which a fire had been built since it was set up in the Petty parlor
not more than three times. Sarah Petty believed in buying and making a
display of the best furnishings obtainable; but such display had only
been made on two occasions when the Heath twins and their families had
come to Cardhaven, and once when by some freak of fortune the local
Conference had sent a real bishop to stay overnight in Sarah Petty's
house.

However, before starting on this day for the important meeting of the
Ladies' Aid, her mistress had instructed Pearl to open the parlor,
or "front room," as it was better known, to dust, and to shake every
"tidy" and "throw" decorating the furniture, to remove the muslin
coverings, and to lay a fire in the base-burner.

"Comp'ny!" thought Pearl, after asking Sarah twice to repeat her
orders. "Land's sake! I wonder who it can be?"

If Tom knew he would give her no hint. Tom was so angry with Pearl now
that he would not even smile at her when he brought in the kindling and
the brass hod of coal to stand beside the shiny stove.

Retreating to the barn again by the exit of the kitchen door, Tom heard
from above a peremptory tapping on the window of Cap'n Jonah's room. He
looked up. The old man, in his nightcap, beckoned to him energetically.

"What does the old fool want now, I wonder," muttered Tom.

Then bethinking him that his great-uncle might be moved to make him
another gift of money, the lout slouched into the house, and mounted to
that loft room over the kitchen.

CHAPTER XVIII

SARAH PETTY TRIMS HER SAILS

"Come in here, young feller," said Cap'n Jonah, speaking more jovially
than usual, when Tom stuck his head in at the crooked doorway of the
loft room. "It's colder than a dog's nose and my fingers air so numb
I can scurce put down these figgers. Besides, I ain't so spry at
'rithmetic as I used to be."

"Why don't you come downstairs where it's warmer, Uncle Jonah?" asked
Tom, for once acting as though he was a mite thoughtful for somebody's
comfort besides his own. "There ain't anybody in the kitchen."

"No," said Cap'n Jonah. "Guess I won't. I calc'late I can look over
these documents best right where I be."

He sat by the window, the strong box at his feet. The box was closed,
but Tom's inquisitive glance noted that the padlocks were both removed.
Cap'n Jonah's hands were filled with legal-looking documents, and
others lay on the deep window seat beside him.

"I want you should help me list these things, Tommy boy," said the old
man. "There's the stub of a pencil and a piece of paper on the table.
And one thing I want to impress on your mind, young man."

"What?" asked Tom.

"You're not to say a thing to nobody 'bout this."

"Hoh?" ejaculated Tom again, staring.

"Don't tell nobody nothing about my business. What folks don't know
won't never hurt 'em. If I've managed to get a little tad of money
together an' invested it in payin' bonds an' stocks, best not to talk
about it. Remember, 'Jonah' is a peculiar name," went on the captain
impressively. "Some says it's bad luck an' some says it's good luck.
Whichever it may be, I've learned by experience that if folks don't
know I've got money, I don't haf to spend it. And that'll leave the
more for them that comes after me an' may enjoy my savin's."

Tom could not speak. His eyes betrayed his overpowering excitement, for
they stared like those of a fresh-caught fish.

"Now you take down the figgers I give you, and then we'll tot up what
it amounts to. But don't you say nothin' to nobody, Tom," warned the
old man again, and began to rustle the papers in his hands.

"All ready, sir," said Tom, finding his voice, and speaking more
respectfully than he ever had before in his life. The power of wealth
shook the lout to the foundations of his being.

"Now this here bond of the Metuchen and Cairo Railroad. It's for five
hundred, an' it's supposed to pay seven an' a ha'f per cent.," murmured
Cap'n Jonah. "Put down five hundred, Tom."

"Five hundred," repeated Tom, licking his lips like a hungry wolf.

"Twenty-two hundred an fifty--that's Highland and Beezboro Canal stock.
It's a mighty pretty document, too," said the captain, holding the
gaudily printed paper off to eye it the better. "Promises eight per
cent."

"Yes, sir!" gasped Tom.

"Two hundred Peterboro Tool Company sheers, wuth on the face of 'em
one thousand; but that was a long time ago," murmured Cap'n Jonah
unctuously and pursing his lips. "Date of issue, 1882. Fifty year
bonds. But we'll jest set down the face value of all these securities.
Mebbe some of 'em's deteriorated, I dunno; but the bank folks tell me
sech another lot of investments they never did see. One thousand, Tom."

"Yes, sir," responded the scribe.

One after the other Cap'n Jonah called off the amounts printed on the
certificates. As the sum grew Tom Petty came close to apoplexy. His
mind had never functioned before, beyond the few thousand dollars his
parents, or some of the neighbors, possessed.

[Illustration: One after another Cap'n Jonah called off the amount on
the certificates.]

When a man was known to possess a sum exceeding the value of his house
and lot--like Cap'n Abe, the storekeeper, for instance--it was said he
had "a plenty money." Miss Sue's reported fortune of forty thousand
dollars was more than Tom Petty could visualize. He had always taken
that story with a grain of salt.

The fortunes of the "summer folks" along The Beaches were beyond
computation. It was said that I. Tapp, the Salt Water Taffy King, was
so rich that he could not really tell what his income was, and he never
kicked a mite when the assessors raised his taxes!

But here, before him, squinting near-sightedly at the gaudily printed
certificates, was Uncle Jonah, rolling the numbers off his tongue in
a way to astonish his young relative. Tom thrilled to the very marrow
of his bones as the amount on the paper grew. Cap'n Jonah did not lay
down the last certificate until the grand total was more than a hundred
thousand dollars!

"There, Tommy boy," said the old man in high good humor. "There,
Tommy boy, that'll be 'bout all," taking the paper from Tom's shaking
fingers. "You're a good mathematician I don't dispute. I wanted to be
sure I had the sum right. I calc'late on makin' my will some day purty
soon now.

"And that's another thing," said the captain reflectively. "Course,
Tommy, a man's own flesh and blood comes first. And I ain't one to
divide up a small prop'ty among a shoal of folks. No sir! But what
I said t'other night to your father and mother I meant--ev'ry word.
Pearly's a good gal and she desarves good treatment. I ain't goin' to
stand by an' see her used mean no more. Remember that now!

"But," concluded the captain firmly, "as long as she has a square deal
here, I'm only inclined to make her what the lawyers call a 'small
_be_-quest.' Something substantial; but nothin' at all like what would
fall to you, Tommy, providin' I died an' left sech a sum as this," and
he tapped the paper on which Tom had added up the figures.

"Course, some of these secureties air likely to seine a purty small
ketch." He picked up a certain paper. Tom crowded closer to read
it hungrily. "Here's this Little Sandy Oil and Coal Company. I got
two thousand sheers of that. They cost me a dollar a sheer an' the
prospectus said they'd go to a hundred par in time. I must confess that
time ain't come yet, so I've hung onto 'em."

"A hundred per cent. rise," Tom whispered, and felt actually faint.

"But you'll mebbe see the time when the Little Sandy Company will
fulfill its prognostications--yes sir! Now, go 'long with you, Tom.
I'm much obleeged. I got to look over some other stuff in this little
chist. Perry Baker'll be back for it day after to-morrow. I don't feel
jest right havin' it out o' the bank for long."

Tom wanted to see the inside of the strong box; but there was no
opportunity. He stumbled down the dark stairway and out to the barn
where his father, who was a good "cold iron blacksmith," was pottering
about their farm wagon. Like most Cape Cod people who had land to till,
the Pettys drew seaweed and shackfish for their fertilizer pile during
the winter months.

"Where in tarnation hev you been?" demanded Orrin. "I want you should
help me with this felloe."

Tom looked at his farther in a stunned sort of way.

"Ketch holt here!" Orrin commanded. "What you moonin' about? What hev
you been doin'?"

"I've been helpin' Uncle Jonah figger up his fortune," said Tom in a
faint and faraway voice.

"His fortune!"

"Yep. His fortune," repeated the younger Petty. He told his father the
exact sum to which the securities added. Orrin's mouth fell loosely
open and he actually paled under his sheath of salt wind tan.

"Goshamighty!" he gasped at last. "Air you tellin' the truth, Tom
Petty?"

"I wouldn't make nothin' by lyin', would I?" demanded Tom. "I knew he
had plenty o' money."

"Wait till your mother hears 'bout it," sighed Orrin in a sort of
ecstasy.

"You an' marm want to be mighty careful how you treat Pearly," growled
Tom, shaking a threatening head. "He as much as said that he'd will it
all to her out o' spite if marm an' you jawed her the way you do."

"Huh!" snorted Orrin. "How 'bout you marryin' the gal?"

"She won't marry me now, Pearly won't, so long's that Helmford feller
is in the way," grumbled Tom.

"Git out!"

"You see," said his son. "I ain't dyin' to marry no girl----"

"Get her to promise to marry ye," said the scheming Orrin quickly.
"That'll be enough. If Pearly once promises a thing she'll do it if the
heavens fall. You know that, Tom."

"But I ain't likely to get her to promise no such thing, as long as
that city chap is foolin' her," declared Tom. "But marm won't hear to
puttin' him out."

"Wal," said Orrin, shrewdly, "there's more ways of killin' a cat than
chokin' it to death with butter."

"Then," said his son darkly, "you see that you stand up for me if
something busts. I'd jest like to get a good smash or two at that
four-eyed fool!" and he doubled his fist threateningly.

"I'd be sure I could do that afore I started anything," said his
father. "Helmford looks kinder like a hick'ry knot to me."

"Aw, I c'd lick him with one hand," growled Tom, the confident.

When Sarah came home from the Ladies' Aid Society her son and husband
were ready for her. They met her in the lane and in the deepening
twilight and with the chill December wind whining around them, they
told the woman the amazing tale of Cap'n Jonah's fortune.

"A hundred thousand dollars?" commented Sarah Petty coolly. "Why,
that's more'n we had any reason to expect."

"Say!" exclaimed Tom. "Jest _one_ of his investments might amount to
more than that. He said so himself. The Little Sandy Oil and Coal
Comp'ny. Cost him two thousand dollars for two thousand sheers, and
mebbe they air wuth now a _hundred dollars apiece_!"

"Goshamighty!" ejaculated Orrin. "Them's the ile sheers he told me
about, once't."

Sarah sighed ecstatically. Her face lighted with the glory of
expectation.

"We'll be _rich_," she murmured.

"Hoh!" cried Tom.

"You're countin' your chickens in the aig, Sarah Petty," warned Orrin.

"You leave it to me," his wife said with immense confidence. "I told
you I could trim my sails to a change of wind. All you need do, Orrin,
you and Tom, is to foller my lead. He's a Hand, after all, Uncle Jonah
is. He don't calc'late to divide up his property if he can help it.
It'll all come to us in the end."

"But Pearly, Marm?" Tom said faintly.

"Do jest as I say. Treat her nice. Make up to her. Let your Uncle Jonah
see you air nice to her. That'll fix him. If he thinks she'll in the
end get some of his money I guarantee he won't will her none to speak
of. He's a Hand, I tell you, and they was always cautious."

"Uh-huh!" grunted Orrin, but not altogether convinced.

Once confident that Uncle Jonah was possessed of a bona fide fortune,
Sarah Petty's determination would admit no possibility of defeat.

Before supper time Sarah had Orrin and Tom carry some of the heavier
pieces of furniture out of the parlor. A generous walnut bureau with
a good mirror was brought down from one of the upper chambers. Orrin
and Sarah's own brass bed--a magnificent piece of furniture according
to local report and which Sarah had kept unscarred for three years
by enveloping the posts in canton flannel--was taken down and set
up again in the front room. It was fitted with the best mattress in
the house and with monogrammed linen. For Sarah Petty took vast pride
in her household possessions. When Orrin had first been allowed to
sleep in that brass bed he confessed that he "didn't feel as though he
belonged in the blasted contraption!"

As the family gathered around the supper table Sarah was all smiles.
From somewhere a very comfortable armchair had appeared, standing at
Cap'n Jonah's usual place. The old seaman hesitated when he saw the
chair. What change did this portend?

"Sit right down, Uncle," said Sarah Petty in honeyed accents. "Seein'
as you're so kinder crippled up, I didn't know but you'd find that
cheer more comfort'ble."

"Whatever!" murmured Cap'n Jonah.

"I was speakin' to Miz Cap'n Joab Beecher at the Ladies' Aid," went on
Mrs. Petty, as the family began to eat, "and she says Cap'n Joab gits
gre't relief at times when the rheumatism ketches him jest as it does
you, from usin' angleworm ile. It limbers the j'ints remarkable."

"Angleworm ile?" gasped Orrin. "How in nature do they git ile from
fishworms? Cap'n Jonah says they bore wells for ile, an' that s'prised
me. But ile from angleworms is the capsheaf."

"You fill a can with angleworms--wash 'em of course--an' set it out in
the sun to stew. Gradually the worms shrink to 'most nothin', and you
strain off the ile. Tommy can dig some worms----"

"This weather?" snorted her son. "If all the angleworms in our back
garden ain't dug themselves down 'bout's far as China for the winter,
then they're froze' stiff by now, if you ask _me_."

"Wal, I suppose it would be best to make the ile in summer," confessed
Sarah.

"There's skunk ile," proposed Orrin, seeing his wife's lead and trying
to follow it. "They say that's mighty good for rheumatiz, to rub it in."

"Have me smellin' like a polecat!" ejaculated Cap'n Jonah, getting his
breath at last.

"Ain't that just like you, Orrin?" snapped Sarah. Orrin subsided. But
Mrs. Petty was determined to put forth something that would please
Cap'n Jonah and draw attention to her interest and sympathy in the
master mariner.

"I've been intendin' to get to it ever since the cold weather set in,"
she observed; "but I've been so busy that I couldn't till to-day. That
upstairs room over this kitchen ain't re'lly fit for Uncle Jonah to
sleep in, Orrin."

"Huh?" grunted her husband, wondering where she was heading in now.

"I told you I didn't think 'twould suit," went on Sarah calmly. "There
ain't no heat gets up into it from here--only smells. The fire goes
out in this range and the chimney gets cold 'fore mornin'. 'Tain't fit
for Uncle Jonah to sleep up there."

The old captain laid down his knife and fork and stared at her. Orrin
looked only at his plate. Tom choked over his food. Helmford tried
to cover the general confusion by starting the ball of conversation
rolling with Pearl about a piece of music which was just then coming
into great popularity and of which he had a record that he played on
his phonograph.

"So," Sarah continued, placid as a summer sea, "I've cleared out the
front room for the winter an' set up a bed there for Uncle Jonah. After
supper you an' Tom, Orrin, go up and get his chist and carry it down
there. There's a fire in the base-burner, and if ye fix the dampers
right ye can run a fire in it day and night, Uncle."

"Whatever!" ejaculated the master mariner.

"I'm sure you'll be much more comfort'ble in the front room, Uncle,"
added his niece sweetly. "We must not let the rheumatism get settled on
you. You must take good care of yourself the few years you've got to
remain with us."

Cap'n Jonah, Pearl, and even Helmford, were by this time speechless.

CHAPTER XIX

THE HIGH HAND

Sarah Petty possessed the usual district-school training of the Cape
Cod native. It is not wholly ignorance of English that develops the
Cape Cod tang in the speech of the people who dwell on that famous hook
of land.

In part it arises from the association with others who maltreat the
language; and partly it is from a degree of pride in the fact that
the Cape has a distinctive speech of its own. Naturally, sea lore and
seafaring expressions are incorporated in the dialect.

Sarah sat down that evening after the half-stunned Cap'n Jonah had
retired to the "saloon cabin," as he called his new quarters, and
proceeded to write to the Heaths and the Solon and Enoch Pettys the
news that Cap'n Jonah Hand, retired from the Chinese trade, had come
to make his home with his gratified relatives on the Shell Road. The
writer, with due humbleness of phraseology but abundant pride to be
read between the lines, wished the Heath families and the Pettys
to come for a Sunday visit, for the express purpose of becoming
acquainted with the returned wanderer and shining light of the Hand
family.

"Goshamighty, it'll cost a slather of money to feed all them folks an'
to run fires all over the house if we have a cold spell," complained
Orrin. "That extry fire in the front room----"

"You hesh!" commanded Sarah. "Didn't you never hear of throwin' a sprat
to ketch a herrin', an' throwin' a herrin' to ketch a whale?"

"Yes," grumbled Orrin. "But I don't never calc'late to use a whale to
bait for a herrin'. What in tarnation good is it goin' to do us to have
all them folks here to show off your Uncle Jonah to? We'd better keep
him to ourselves."

"You dunderhead!" exclaimed his wife bitterly. "What a punishment for
my sins you be, Orrin Petty! Unless a body gives you chart, compass,
_an'_ all the soundings, you can't weather a p'int. Don't you see 'tis
for our benefit to be good friends with them of your fam'ly that has
got money and position? We hope to have money and position. And I want
they should see Cap'n Jonah Hand, through whom we air goin' to rise in
the world."

"Goshamighty! Woman, you air takin' too much for granted," urged Orrin.

"You leave it to me," said Sarah confidently, licking the flap of the
last envelope and pressing down upon it with determination expressed in
her very attitude. "Uncle Jonah's fortune is just as good as ourn."

Pearl went into the front room when her evening's work was done to
see if Cap'n Jonah wished anything for the night. The old mariner was
sitting in a comfortable chair before the stove dressed in his blue
pilot-cloth suit which he wore only on "state and date occasions,"
as he said himself, and with his feet thrust into a pair of gold
embroidered Chinese heelless slippers.

"Ahoy, my hearty!" hailed Cap'n Jonah, smiling at the girl. "It does me
good to see your pretty face. Come in an' set along o' me a spell."

"I've a book up in my room I want to read, Cap'n Jonah," said Pearl
frankly. "If I don't read before Miz Petty comes up to bed she'll maybe
take my lamp away. She says that if I read at night I'm not fit for
anything the next day."

"Whatever!" snapped the old mariner. "You bring your book in here, if
you want, Pearly. Don't matter what Sarah Petty says. If you want to
read, you read."

"Oh!" gasped Pearl. "I wouldn't dare."

"Ha! There's a change of wind hereabout, my gal," said Cap'n Jonah, his
eyes twinkling. "While it blows fav'rable you'd better take advantage
of it as I have. You're welcome to come in here any time, Pearly. 'Hem!
How air you and that young Helmford gettin' on?"

"Oh! Cap'n Jonah!" cried the girl, startled by the abrupt question.

"Good friends, ain't you two?" queried the old man, watching her face
sharply. "He's a nice feller if he has got a fool job, trainin' fishes."

"He's--he's very nice," stammered Pearl.

"To be sure he is," agreed Cap'n Jonah heartily. "From what I hear he
comes of nice folks, though they ain't rich. Abram Silt knows about
him. He'll make a nice man for some smart gal to marry."

"Oh, Cap'n Jonah!" cried Pearl again, and ran out of the room with
burning cheeks. She did not go near Helmford that evening.

Cap'n Jonah accepted with placid mien the good things the gods gave
him in the matter of improved quarters and better treatment from the
Pettys. He did not know how long he could keep up the masquerade as a
wealthy and successful man; but while Sarah and the others continued
to deceive themselves the old seaman proposed to do or say nothing to
break the charm.

He slept that night as peacefully as he had in the best bedroom
upstairs. With the room kept at a comfortable temperature by the fire
in the base-burner, the captain's rheumatic twinges did not return.
Still, when Sarah herself tapped at his door in the morning and asked
him if he would have his breakfast on a tray, he accepted the offer.

"Might's well take all the benefits of being in sick bay," he said to
Pearl, who brought the tray. "Now some shavin' water, my gal, and I'll
be purty well fixed."

His toilet was completed, and Pearl was redding up the front room
while Cap'n Jonah was sitting around in his best suit in honor of the
new quarters, when he saw from the window a small figure approaching
briskly up the lane.

"Here's Miss Sue," he observed. "She certainly is a spankin' craft. Ha!
She's comin' to our side door."

He went out into the hall as the doctor's sister tapped. Her smiling
face greeted him like a dewy rose.

"I am glad to see you stirring, Cap'n Hand," she said. "Can I see
Pearl?"

"You can, ma'am," agreed Cap'n Jonah, making his bow with a flourish.
"Come right into my cabin, ma'am."

"I want Pearl to help us decorate the chapel with the Christmas greens
when they come next week," Miss Sue said, stepping into the hall.

From kitchenward appeared the apprehensive Sarah, a portentous frown
upon her brow.

"Mornin', Miss Sue," she said harshly. "I don't see how I can spare
Pearly. I expec' comp'ny, and we shall be up to our ears after they go,
cleanin' after 'em."

"You come right in this way, Miss Sue," interrupted Cap'n Jonah.
"Pearl's in my cabin an' she can speak for herself. I reckon, Sarah,
you can spare her for one-two hours; and the child'll like it, I
haven't a doubt."

Sarah, struck with amazement, for once failed to dominate the
situation. She saw Miss Sue enter the front room and herself shut
out by the captain before she could recover her aplomb. Cap'n Jonah
certainly was carrying things with a high hand!

The person who had prophetically suggested that he would be able to do
just this, if the Pettys once believed him wealthy, chanced to approach
the house a few minutes later. It was just twenty-four hours since
Perry Baker had stopped at 'Liphalet Truitt's house with the steel
strong box from the Paulmouth National Bank in his wagon. 'Liphalet was
unable to smother his curiosity longer, and was wishful of talking the
matter over with Cap'n Jonah. Although he had not been present when the
plot was actually laid by Cap'n Jonah and the storekeeper, 'Liphalet
was fully aware of the particulars.

Cap'n Abe, whose influence with the bank officials was considerable,
had arranged for the sending over of the steel chest in the
expressman's care. The "securities" Cap'n Jonah had shown the easily
gulled Tom Petty were for the most part supplied by the same bank
officer who sent the box, and who had amused himself by making a large
collection of such worthless and gaudy papers. Such evidences of the
gullibility and cupidity of human nature often come into the hands of
bankers in perfectly legitimate ways.

'Liphalet desired mightily to know how the conspiracy was coming on.
The ex-steward might be "on the outs" with most of his neighbors; but
his interest in Cap'n Jonah's affairs had not waned. He came smartly up
the lane and started across the yard to ask for his crony at the back
door, when he chanced to see that the shades of the parlor windows were
raised half way.

That in itself was a surprising fact, for it was only mid-week, and
he had not heard that Sarah Petty had company. He looked again more
sharply. Behind the lace curtains he saw Cap'n Jonah in his Sunday best
weaving to and fro comfortably in Sarah Petty's best rocking chair.

"By Hannah!" muttered the ex-steward. "Will wonders never cease--with
doughnuts fried in candle grease? Cap'n Jonah in the _parlor_?"

Then he stopped, struck nerveless in his tracks, by the recognition of
the figure sitting at the other window. Miss Sue!

The doctor's sister sat smiling, chatting most companionably with the
captain. To the angry gaze of Eliphalet Truitt it seemed as though she
was making a deliberate call upon the old sea-dog who had already, and
more than once, expressed his admiration for Susan Ambrose.

Cap'n Jonah had said a share of Miss Sue's reputed fortune would
give him a certain standing in the community that he craved. The
captain was, after all, to use a Shell Road term, "muchly of a man."
'Liphalet's jealous fears made instant capital of the situation.

He had served for Miss Sue more than the allotted seven years Jacob
served for Rachel. And was a comparative stranger, a man who had lived
in the community but a few weeks, to step in and bear away the prize of
the doctor's sister from under Life Truitt's very nose?

Yet with all his rage and sorrow, he could not bring himself to play
the rôle of fortune hunter--even in appearance--by asking Miss Sue to
marry him.

He turned abruptly away, hot rage seething in his heart, and went back
along the way to his lonely cottage. If ever the Christmas spirit--and,
indeed, every other spirit of generosity and joy--was quenched in a
man's soul it was quenched now in that of the apostate Santa Claus of
the Shell Road.

CHAPTER XX

THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL

It must be true that the love of money is the root of all evil; the
mere possession of it, whether one loves it or not, seems to distract
humanity. Sue Ambrose's acclaimed fortune of forty thousand dollars
made 'Liphalet miserable; nor did it seem to do Miss Sue herself very
much good.

Miss Sue's tastes were naturally simple. She had begun to dress much
better than formerly, as soon as she had received the legacy from her
anti-suffragist relative. But good clothes on a careful body like Sue
Ambrose last a long time. She had seldom renewed her apparel during
these past ten years.

There was one gown, a silver-gray poplin, laid away in lavender in her
chest that Miss Sue never saw without a tear and a sigh. She had never
worn it. It had been purchased immediately on the lawyers having paid
over to her the legacy which had made such a difference in her quiet
life. She had bought it for a certain occasion, and to her modest
surprise that occasion had never arisen.

Miss Sue retained her peace of mind and her sweetness of temper by
always being busy. If not about her brother's house and office, then
in various good works in the community. As chairman of the Christmas
entertainment committee of the Mariner's Chapel she had her hands more
than full these days. Doubtless, if 'Liphalet Truitt had followed her
lead at this season as he had on similar occasions for the past ten
years, he would not have had time to become the misanthrope he now was.

With Cap'n Jonah's aid, having forced Sarah Petty to say that Pearl
could help in trimming the chapel for Christmas, Miss Sue hurried away
to round up other helpers. She did not see 'Liphalet stubbing up the
Shell Road toward home and had no idea, of course, that he had seen her
apparently making a personal call on Cap'n Jonah. But she did meet Joe
Helmford coming toward the Petty place, and halted him.

"You have time to help our committee, I am sure, Mr. Helmford," she
said to the man from the fish hatchery. She explained what was needed
and told him the day on which the decorating was to be done.

"I'll be there, Miss Ambrose," the young man said heartily. "You say
Pearl--Miss Holden--will help?"

She smiled up at him with such a sweet, shy knowledge of his
unintentional revelation, that Joe Helmford's cheeks flooded with
sudden red. "You can come over with her," Miss Sue said demurely. "Then
you will be sure to be on time."

He murmured an assurance that he would be present, and left her in
some confusion. If people were going to discover so easily what he had
heretofore denied to himself, he must have a care!

"Am I in love with her--with Pearly?" he asked himself forty times
a day. "What is the root of the influence she has with me? Am I so
strongly attracted to her just because she is beyond my reach? If she
is to be Cap'n Jonah Hand's heir, according to all I hear, she will
some day possess a hundred thousand dollars or more."

The Helmfords were a large family, and after his education was given
him there was no money in the family exchequer for Joe Helmford. He
must earn all he ever expected to have; and for his work as Government
expert in ichthyology he was not generously paid.

Had the girl been just what she seemed to be when Helmford first
obtained a better understanding of her character and its possibilities
for development, he might have safely considered attempting the winning
of Pearl Holden. She was a poor girl then and would not expect too much
of a young man just beginning to climb the scientific ladder.

But along had come Cap'n Jonah with his phenomenal fortune (phenomenal
for this simple community) and if it was understood that Pearl was to
benefit largely by the old sea captain's will any man who approached
her in a sentimental way would be decried as a fortune hunter. The same
situation that confronted 'Liphalet Truitt with Miss Sue faced Joe
Helmford, as he supposed, regarding Pearl Holden.

Tom Petty had been unable, in spite of his mother's commands, to keep
the story of the strong box from the bank and Cap'n Jonah's securities
to himself. He had related with much detail the story of his helping
"Uncle Jonah tot up his fortune"--as Cap'n Jonah was quite sure he
would despite his warning to the contrary--at the store, and Helmford
had been present to hear it all.

It would be too bald a thing, the latter told himself, now, to pay
court to a girl who was the accredited heiress of such a fortune.
But Joe Helmford fought these thoughts down--would not admit his
growing interest in the girl, save at a time like this when Miss Sue's
intuition had penetrated his guard.

The repeated story of Cap'n Jonah's fortune buzzed through the
neighborhood. It was whispered that there was much treasure in precious
stones and hard cash in the box besides the securities. Everybody
watched the next day for the return of Perry Baker, the expressman, for
the strong box. It was known far and wide that Cap'n Jonah's valuables
were to go back to the safety deposit vaults under the Paulmouth
National Bank.

When the important Perry drove up the Petty lane he had an ancient
sawed-off shotgun on the seat beside him! He was taking no chances, as
he frankly admitted to the assembled Petty family.

"A feller axed a lift of me, comin' over from the station this
mornin'," he said in a hushed tone. "I didn't know him. Stranger to
me. Several suspicious looking characters 'round these parts lately.
Make b'lieve they work in the cranberry bogs; but ye can't most always
sometimes tell.

"I borried this gun of Sile Peckham. It's loaded to the muzzle with
slugs. I reckon on doin' some damage to airy highwayman that tries to
hold me up, I vow to man!"

"If it ever goes off at your shoulder, it'll prob'bly kick you across
the road," remarked Cap'n Jonah, paying the expressman's fee. "Looks to
me as though that gun had busted once, already. That's where Peckham
had it strapped--see? You better give it to the highwayman, if you meet
any. 'Twill prob'bly do more harm at the tail end than it does at the
muzzle."

No one could tell Perry Baker anything he did not want to know. He
drove away with the strong box hidden under a blanket in the bottom of
his wagon, and the old shotgun lying across his lap.

"Talk about the Wild West," chuckled Helmford to Pearl, "the Wild
East--meaning Cape Cod--is wilder! Cardhaven puts it all over Crimson
Gulch."

At the Petty house there really was another topic of conversation
discussed besides Cap'n Jonah's fortune. The Heaths and the Pettys to
whom Sarah had written were coming to stay over Sunday with the branch
residing on the Shell Road. They would arrive in two days--Solon Petty
and his wife; Enoch Petty and his wife, and the twins, Apollo and
Perseus Heath, and their wives. Four couples--and Sarah was just as
busy as a hen on a hot griddle (so Orrin said) preparing for the influx
of guests.

Cap'n Jonah's being billeted in the front room made the entertainment
of the guests possible. Tom and Orrin were relegated to the room the
old sea captain had occupied for a few weeks over the kitchen, while
Sarah was to sleep on the sitting-room sofa.

For the nonce she would have been glad had Helmford been out of the
house. She desired to "eat her cake and have it, too." She wanted the
man's board money just as much as ever; but she wished she might put
Solon Petty, the member of the Massachusetts Legislature, and his wife
in the best bedroom.

Pearl was not required to give up her room. In the first place it was
a cramped little chamber behind the attic stairs. And, in addition,
Sarah Petty had no intention of giving Cap'n Jonah any further excuse
for making the girl his heiress.

Besides, if worse came to worst, and it was necessary for Tom to marry
Pearl to keep Cap'n Jonah's fortune in the family, Sarah wished the
guests to observe how nicely she treated her daughter-in-law to be.

There was looming an incident, however, that Sarah Petty did not
foresee. It was something that was to relieve her of Joe Helmford's
presence, whether she wanted him to go or not.

Helmford, no matter what he admitted in secret to himself regarding
Pearl, was scrupulously careful to display no extraordinary interest in
her before the family. He had ever in his mind the several occasions on
which he had observed what he supposed to be the expression of Tom's
half-formed attachment for the girl. He could not understand how Pearl
could endure the lout; but he knew that here on the Cape the "chief end
of woman" is marriage of some kind, no matter what may be the "chief
end of man" in the Catechism.

He saw the hypocrisy of the Petty family in the sudden change in their
treatment of Pearl. It was to be expected, if she was to be Cap'n
Jonah's heir. They loved money more than they loved anything else
in the world. It was not strange at all that Tom should try to win
Pearl--and the money.

The boarder, however, found it impossible to ignore Pearl or to
completely withstand her charm. When they were together he found
himself drawn to speak to her and to discuss matters of mutual
interest, as he had heretofore. He could not be rude to her.

Unless he actually ran away from her they were bound to be thrown often
into each other's company. Pearl had no reason, Helmford supposed,
to suspect his secret perturbation. She eagerly conversed with him
whenever she could.

Was he in Cap'n Jonah's room playing a game of checkers with the old
man and she came in on an errand, Pearl was sure to linger. Cap'n Jonah
seemed to encourage her to talk, much as his mind might be given to the
intricacies of the game on the board.

At meal time Helmford sat opposite to the girl at table. If he raised
his eyes from his plate there were her dark eyes pouring all the sweet
sincerity of their gaze into his. They could not stare dumbly at each
other without attracting the family's attention.

Did he chance to be in his room when Pearl came to clean it, he could
not assume so deep an absorption in his work or study that he did not
see her. They had exchanged mutual confidences at such times, and Pearl
expected him to respond to her innocent advances.

He could not say to her: "You are going to be rich some day. I am a
poor man and may be comparatively poor all my life. I cannot propose
marriage to you--even if I wanted to--for fear of what people will say!"

Indeed, not only was the love of money the root of all evil, but it
seemed that the very existence of Cap'n Jonah's fortune was to breed
trouble for all whom it touched. Was the name, Jonah, after all one to
conjure ill luck with?

An incident, however, brought to a conclusion Joe Helmford's
uncertainties and Pearl's unfulfilled expectations.

It was prayer and conference-meeting night. Pearl had been to
chapel--the sole member of the family who attended the mid-week
meeting. She was returning alone along the Shell Road, when Helmford
overtook her. A strong, salt-savored gale blew from the sea, and this,
getting under her cape, ballooned the garment under such pressure that
she was all but carried off her feet.

"To the rescue!" cried Helmford cheerfully, and seized her. She clung
to him until the gust was past, and he beat down the voluminous cape,
passing one arm around her slight figure to do so.

They stood there for a moment, laughing, Pearl clinging to him and
Helmford half embracing her, when a burly figure burst through the
hedge right beside the Petty lane.

"Hey, you! I've caught you, ain't I? I've a mind to break every bone in
your body, Joe Helmford!"

Helmford wheeled to face Tom Petty. His eyes behind his big glasses
sparkled angrily. He had steadied Pearl upon her feet, and now he
started for the newcomer.

"You get up to the house, Pearl Holden!" cried the angry Tom. "I'll
show this feller what's what. Hangin' 'round you all the time like a
pilot fish around a shark. You can see what he wants, all right. He
thinks Uncle Jonah is going to will you all his money, and he'd marry
you for it. You can bet your sweet life, Pearly, that he'd never look
twice at a longshore girl if he didn't think you was goin' to be rich."

"Oh, Tom Petty!" gasped the girl, in horror.

"That's what I say--an' I stick to it," pursued the wildly excited Tom.
"And I saw you lettin' him hug you right out here in the road. I'll
tell marm. She'll fix _you_ for such actions; and she'll tend to this
here Helmford."

The latter flashed a sudden glance at the cowering girl.

"Yes, Miss Pearl," he said, "do go into the house. I am sorry this
occurred. But I guarantee another such incident will never happen."

Tom made a dash at him. He had held a club behind his back, which
neither Helmford nor the girl had perceived. Helmford ducked and the
blow overreached. In coming to close quarters Helmford delivered a
swift and able punch which landed solidly on Tom Petty's neck.

The youth went down upon the frozen ground like a felled ox. He was
dazed by the collision of the back of his head with the hard earth.
Helmford stepped over him and led Pearl away with a firm hand under her
elbow. She was sobbing.

The young man felt that there was nothing he could say. After the
vulgar accusation Tom Petty had made, he did not know how to address
the girl.

So they reached the house without a word being spoken between them. Tom
had picked himself up and was following at a distance. Pearl ran up to
her room without appearing at all before the family.

Helmford waited in the kitchen with Sarah and Orrin until Tom came in.
He had something to say, and he said it at last, and there was snap to
it.

"This son of yours," he concluded, particularly addressing Sarah
Petty, "is impossible. You abetted him on a previous occasion when
you rudely entered my room and spoke as you did to a guest of mine.
Now this fellow accuses me of a most vulgar interest in Miss Pearl.
These outbreaks, I can plainly see, will occur with more frequency if
I remain. You are paid to the end of the week, Mrs. Petty. I will go
to-morrow morning."

He waited for no argument, but went up to his room. He spent half the
night packing. Before breakfast he was gone, and that afternoon Perry
Baker on his usual trip stopped for Mr. Helmford's trunks and boxes.

"He's got board with the Widder Weth'rel and her darters t'other side
of Cardhaven," said the gossipy Perry. "Guess you be glad to see the
last of him, Sarah, as you say. Them city folks is awful fussy. You've
got to cater to 'em a lot, an' a body must be a purty good cook an'
housekeeper to suit."

Sarah Petty was almost apoplectic, but she said not a word in reply.

CHAPTER XXI

THE WISE MEN OUT OF THE SOUTH

The two members of the Petty household who, after all, were to be the
more affected by the abrupt departure of Joe Helmford, knew nothing
about it until the expressman came for the young man's baggage and his
books. His absence at breakfast and dinner chanced to draw no comment
or question from Cap'n Jonah; and Pearl, after the incident on the road
coming from chapel, dreaded meeting the man from the fish hatchery.

Tom's brutality and his insulting words had utterly overpowered her.
Again, because of her excitement, she had scarcely noted the reference
to Cap'n Jonah's threatened disposal of his fortune. Of all the
inhabitants of this longshore community Pearl Holden probably was the
least interested in money, either in large or small sums.

But she owned now to a deep and abiding interest in Joe Helmford.
For the moment she was in his arms as he steadied her against the
wind squall, she found herself giving in utterly to the thrill of his
embrace. Had Tom not burst so unexpectedly upon them what might not
have happened?

The contact of Pearl and Helmford at that exciting instant was as
innocent as that of two children. Yet she had lain awake for hours
after it, living over again the sweet significance of their coming
together through grace of the wind.

She shrank from meeting Helmford because of what Tom Petty had blurted
out. She would feel shamefaced she knew; and yet she could scarcely
wait to see him.

When he did not appear at breakfast and dinner she wondered. Sarah
Petty looked grim indeed. She had forced Tom to tell the truth about
his trouble with Helmford--or as near the truth as the lout ever
spoke--and she realized that there was nothing to be made by quarreling
with Pearl.

Helmford had stated an incontrovertible fact: Her son was "impossible,"
and Sarah knew it.

They were giving the lower part of the house a thorough cleaning on
this day in preparation for the coming of the expected guests. The
chambers were left until after dinner. So Pearl did not discover the
condition of Helmford's room. Sarah refrained from ordering no plate
set for the young man at dinner. For once the woman shrank from telling
her mind outright.

When Perry Baker came for Helmford's goods the truth came out.
Amazement sat upon Cap'n Jonah's mahogany countenance. Pearl was
bewildered.

Had Helmford gone without a word--without saying good-bye? Grim-lipped,
Sarah Petty would not explain, and both Orrin and Tom had been ordered
to keep their mouths closed. There had been a contest in the kitchen
the night before, and for once Sarah Petty was worsted by her husband
and son. Orrin, as he had previously promised Tom, had backed the lout
in his determination to get rid of the boarder.

Pearl could not ask anybody to solve the mystery of Helmford's brusk
departure, and all Sarah would vouchsafe her uncle was:

"It didn't suit for him to be here no longer."

"Something fishy 'bout that--something very fishy," whispered Cap'n
Jonah to Pearl. "Wonder what 'tis?"

"Oh, Cap'n Jonah!"

"What do you know 'bout it, my gal? Joe Helmford was a good friend of
yours."

"He--he's gone without a word!" sobbed Pearl.

"You dunno no reason?"

"He didn't say anything to me about leaving," she replied, shrinking
from telling anybody of the incident on the road the previous evening.

"Nor to me. And he's usually a mighty open-spoken, friendly chap. I
don't understand it," declared Cap'n Jonah. "I'm going to look him up
and find out what it means."

But this was poor comfort for Pearl. To her mind a great gulf had
opened between Joe Helmford and herself. He had gone away without one
word--or look--or handclasp! Had Tom's rude speech the night before
warned him from the dangerous salient into which he and Pearl had
ventured? Unsophisticated as was Pearl Holden she had felt, her woman's
intuition told her, that the young man, too, had experienced the same
pulsation she herself had known as they stood together on the wintry
road.

Had he run away from her? The thought one moment stung her pride; the
next she was deep in despair because Helmford's abrupt departure did
not seem to conform to his unfailing courtesy.

She knew, of course, that Tom's ugliness was the spring from which all
this trouble flowed. The actual cause of Helmford's departure must be
his brief struggle with the lout.

Pearl had felt some primal passion stir within her when Helmford had
so easily overcome the lout. It seemed almost a miracle that one man
with only his bare hands could beat another who held the advantage of
a stout club. And a studious, seemingly gentle man, like Joe Helmford!
Pearl knew nothing about the athletic training our American youth gain
at college; nor did she dream that the lanky, apparently "loose hung"
man from the fish hatchery was the acclaimed champion boxer of his
class.

But she knew she had been glad, _glad_ when Helmford struck the blow
that knocked Tom Petty to the ground.

She saw the swollen and inflamed spot upon the side of the lout's neck
which advertised the blow, and she was glad again.

Nevertheless she could not bring herself to explain to Cap'n Jonah what
had happened, or discuss in any way the disappearance of Joe Helmford.
She was relieved that there was so much to do in preparing for the
coming of the guests from the "south." One cannot entirely give way to
sorrow where one's time is so fully occupied with work. Pearl Holden
sought her bed that night so tired that she would have slept soundly in
any case.

The four families represented by the four wise men from out of the
south and their wives, lived near Harwich. They came by train to
Paulmouth, from whence Willy Peebles and another driver of an auto car
brought them over to the Petty place on the Shell Road.

It was a crisp, delightfully cold day, and the extra fires indoors made
most of the house comfortable. Still, the visiting women sat around the
sitting-room stove with knit shawls over their shoulders and gossiped
with Sarah Petty while the men made the usual pilgrimage to the barn to
look over Orrin's stock and to swap stories and tobacco.

In spite of the fact that Solon Petty was one of the legislators of
the Commonwealth, and Enoch, his cousin, carried a large section of the
politics of Harwich in his vest pocket, as the saying went, they were
longshore born and longshore bred, and would never be anything under
their skins save a combination of farmer and fisherman.

'Poley and Perseus Heath were storekeepers. All their long lives (they
were now upward of sixty) they had looked, talked, and dressed just
alike. So much alike were they that if you addressed, as you supposed,
Uncle 'Poley, more than likely you would be answered by Uncle Perse. It
was gossip that the twins' wives had certain marks of identification by
which they could tell with precision "which was which"; but nobody else
had such omniscience regarding the Heath twins.

"Ye haven't even got as much chance," said Cap'n Abe, discussing the
wonder at the Shell Road store, "as they had with them twins, Bill and
Tom, they tell about down to Chatham. Bill fin'ly lost all his teeth;
so if anybody wanted to distinguish 'twixt them two brothers he'd stick
his finger into Bill's mouth, an' if he bit ye, 'twas Tom!"

To see the Heath twins sitting in the sun on Orrin Petty's barnyard
fence, chewing tobacco in unison, reminded one of a couple of ancient
billygoats--for their sparse chin whiskers moved up and down, and back
and forth, just like a goat chewing a particularly succulent mouthful
of food.

Naturally Solon and Enoch Petty were looked upon as wise men because
of the political prominence they had gained; but the Heath twins had
gained an equal reputation for wisdom by keeping still tongues in their
heads. Nothing "got by" Apollo and Perseus Heath; but they seldom gave
a verbal opinion on any point.

"A pair of quahogs with the lockjaw ain't got nothin' on 'Poley and
Perse for dead silence," Orrin Petty observed to Sarah.

"You'd better take example by them," she snapped. "They've made money
keepin' their mouths shet."

Cap'n Jonah was down at the store when the "Wise Men from the South"
arrived. So there was plenty of opportunity to discuss him and his
fortune, both in the sitting-room and on the sheltered panel of the
barnyard fence, before the old seaman returned.

"Ye see, he's re'l old," Sarah Petty explained, "and he don't re'lly
know how broken he is. The rheumatism has settled on him, an'--well,
you know how these deep bottom sailors be when they finally come back
to the Cape and settle down. They ain't long in anybody's way."

"But ye say he's well fixed, Sarah?" said Uncle 'Poley Heath's wife--a
massive woman with well-developed chin whiskers.

"Why, he don't talk none of his money, Uncle Jonah don't," confessed
Sarah Petty, as though she thought this was a fault and should be
excused. "Putting the best foot forward" was almost a religion with
her. "He's a Hand," she explained, "and they was always tight-mouthed.
But when he had his strong box over from the Paulmouth Bank the other
day he showed Tom some securities. You know how boys be," hesitated
Tom's mother. "Tom was curious and he took note. Uncle Jonah had him
tot up the amounts of some of his sheers an' such, and Tom says it
comes to more than a hundred thousand dollars."

"A hundred thousand!" gasped Mrs. Enoch Petty.

"For the good land's sake!" wheezed Mrs. Perseus Heath, who was little,
and fat, and asthmatic.

"I sh'd say he was well fixed!" said Solon Petty's wife, who was almost
as sharp of tongue and feature as Sarah herself. "A hundred thousand
dollars! My!"

Mrs. Enoch Petty was the only one that expressed suspicion: "I s'pose
you are _sure_ he's got all this money, Sarah? He might be foolin' you.
And if he does it just to work on your sympathies, and you took care of
him----"

"Oh! Indeed!" sniffed Sarah Petty. "Uncle Jonah Hand is one that pays
his way wherever he goes. Of course, I give him our front room and we
have to get along as best we can without a parlor. But he insists on
paying his shot."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Enoch.

"That's what I call proper," said Mrs. 'Poley in her heavy voice.

"How nice!" panted Mrs. Perse.

"_That's_ an uncle wuth havin'," admitted Mrs. Solon.

On the barnyard barrier it was the same:

"This here uncle of your wife's a pretty far-seeing man, Orrin?" asked
Enoch Petty. "The boy that drove us over here said 'twas all around the
neighborhood that Cap'n Jonah Hand had come back from China with his
pockets full of cash."

"_My_ driver," said Solon, who was a ponderous man, "said the cap'n
brought home more than his pockets full. Said he had a safe here at
the house stuffed full of gold and silver, and that Perry Baker, the
expressman, who brought it over from the bank, was so scare't of being
robbed on the way that he was threatened with nervous prostration--er,
haw! haw! haw!"

"Hoh!" snorted Tom, in echo, and with disgust.

"No," said Orrin coolly. "That strong box has gone back to the bank. I
guess Cap'n Jonah is a pretty careful man."

"But he _has_ got money?" queried Enoch.

"Some," said the cautious Orrin.

"Think we could get him interested in that Short Line 'twixt Harwich
and Beanport, Enoch?" suggested Solon slyly.

The twins' jaws wagged more swiftly. As one man they opened their lips
and together cried:

"Ye might let us in on that!"

"No, boys," said Enoch, shaking his head. "This is not a family matter.
We don't let the family in on nothin' but sure things. This here
Harwich and Beanport Line is a sort of gamble."

"Huh!" ejaculated Orrin. "Ain't Uncle Jonah one of the fam'ly, I'd like
to know?"

"Not exactly," drawled Enoch.

"Er-haw! haw! haw!" laughed Solon loudly. "Cap'n Hand's a sort
of step-child in this case. We need money for that Short Line
development----"

"You seine for some other man's money," Orrin said shortly. "Uncle
Jonah's too old to go in with you boys in any onsartain scheme. He
may not be a Petty; but we don't propose he shall lose any of his
hard-airned money that may in time _come_ to a Petty."

"Well said!" chorused the twins, with vigorous approval.

"Never take no risks," added Uncle 'Poley.

"Penny saved is a penny airned," said Uncle Perse.

They were full of old saws and sayings, were the Heath twins. Solon
Petty burst out with his rumbling laugh.

"Those are the tight-lipped and tight-fisted boys. They ought to be
bankers instead of storekeepers. It's taking chances that makes Big
Business."

"Ye-as. Mebbe," said Orrin. "But Cap'n Jonah Hand has taken all the
chances he's ever goin' to take if _I_ have any influence with him. We
know what he's _got_; we don't know how much less he might have if he
fooled with these gambling games. Why, there ain't any of 'em square!"

"Ain't it so?" agreed Tom, with a vivid remembrance of his experience
at the cattle show.

CHAPTER XXII

THE STING OF HYPOCRISY

Meanwhile Cap'n Jonah was at the Shell Road store wishing heartily that
he did not have to go home.

Playing a part was already beginning to pall upon the worthy captain.
It was no small satisfaction he had in "foolin' them Pettys"; but the
effect of his hypocrisy, he found, was to be more far-reaching than he
supposed.

He had not foreseen Sarah Petty's desire to show him off before the
family. He had not forecast in any degree how the story of his wealth
would spread, and grow, and become a Frankenstein to pursue him.

It was bad enough at the store to have the loungers remark slyly upon
his fortune and hint their curiosity as to how he had obtained it.
None doubted the veracity of Tom Petty's tale. Even Milt Baker, the
Shell Road humorist, was too much awed by the existence of so great
a property in the neighborhood to invent any quips upon the subject.
There is a feeling of reverence born in most Cape Codders for money.
For one reason, it is so hard to get!

Cap'n Jonah had Abraham Silt at his back while he was in the store, and
if the storekeeper saw him getting cornered he promptly came to the
rescue. But to face all these people from Harwich, and alone, was going
to be something of a job, and Cap'n Jonah dreaded it.

He felt as though Joe Helmford's defection, too, was a personal
loss. That bright young man had often acted in a way to switch the
conversation from personal matters when Cap'n Jonah was harassed by the
Petty family.

Had Helmford not left the Petty house Cap'n Jonah would have considered
taking the young man into his confidence. Cap'n Abe had asked him how
close to the bare bones of truth he could trim his ship; but Cap'n
Jonah had found it an ungracious task to befool his friends as well as
those for whom he felt no sympathy whatever.

Of course, Pearl had to be kept in ignorance of the truth. The
transparency of the girl's character precluded his taking her into his
confidence. And the old captain saw, as time passed, that the fewer
people who knew his secret the better his chance of carrying on the
play.

What the end would be, Cap'n Jonah dared not meditate upon. He had
forced the Pettys to mend their treatment of Pearl. But he really had
not foreseen all the change the story of his hypothetical fortune
would make in his own affairs.

Sarah Petty's new tack amazed Cap'n Jonah. He had expected more
consideration at her hands as the result of the conspiracy; but all
this that was going on in the Petty household he certainly had not
imagined.

"Whatever!" he said privately to the storekeeper. "I'm gettin' things
so soft that I dunno what to do about it. They'll be smotherin' me to
death with their soft-soapin' ways."

"Take it easy while you can," Cap'n Abe advised. "This is a gre't world
if you don't git cold feet, as the feller said. You jest let 'em git
it fixed in their minds that you are well wuth catering to. They'll
never find out the truth if you don't tell 'em. Mr. Creavy, over to the
bank, will never say a word. I know _him_. An' of course you can trust
'Liphalet an' me to keep our 'tater-traps shet."

"Whatever! Yes. That's all right," muttered Cap'n Jonah. "But what's
goin' to happen, I want to know when my money does run out?"

This was a contingency that was ever in Cap'n Jonah's mind. Sarah Petty
had not hinted as yet at any increase in his board despite his change
of quarters; but the drain of twenty-two and a half dollars monthly was
not to be overlooked, considering Cap'n Jonah's actual resources.

He could not on this day postpone his return home past the dinner
hour. He must meet the visitors, whether or no; so he finally started
up the road. Here came 'Liphalet Truitt, basket on arm, and his face as
sour as a lime.

"Ahoy, Truitt!" hailed the captain. "What did you see of that crowd at
the Pettys? That gang of Orrin's rel'tives from Harwich boarded 'em by
this time, I guess?"

"I seen a couple autos go by," said 'Liphalet ungraciously. "They
turned up at the Pettys."

"Do you know, Truitt," said Cap'n Jonah, ignoring the other's ill-humor
and drawing near to speak confidentially. "Do you know, this here
imaginary fortune is gettin 'on my nerves? That's what! A feller ought
to be a mighty good actor to play up to it."

"Uh-huh!" grunted 'Liphalet.

"Makes a feller wish he re'lly did have a fortune, at that," added
Cap'n Jonah, wistfully. "When a feller's supposed to have money things
is purty soft for him. I sartain sure wish I could git a re'l fortune
as easy as we made this one up."

"Why don't ye marry a fortune?" snarled 'Liphalet with sudden venom.

"Heh?" ejaculated the startled captain.

"There's them with plenty money that might have ye--if ye asked,"
pursued 'Liphalet. "Ye wouldn't put it past ye, ye say, to marry for
what cash the woman had."

"Whatever!" murmured Cap'n Jonah, and he involuntarily stood aside as
the strangely wrathful Mr. Truitt marched on. Cap'n Jonah stared after
his friend in amazement. "Whatever in the world has laid hold upon Life
Truitt?" he gasped.

"Jest as happy an' pleasant as a man-eating shark," went on the amazed
captain. "And who does he want I should marry--Miss Sue? Why! I was
calc'latin'----"

He did not finish the audible expression of his thoughts, but went on
up the road shaking his head in a very thoughtful mood. For once Cap'n
Jonah's mind was not fixed upon his own fortunes.

The extension table was stretched clear across the Petty kitchen.
Orrin's back was so close to the door leading to the porch that the
door could scarcely be opened, while Sarah was so far away from him at
the other end of the table that her frowns and half-audible admonitions
for once made no impression upon her husband.

Between the two, along both sides of the table, were ranged the
visitors and Tom and Cap'n Jonah. Sarah was rather glad for the moment
that Helmford had gone. The table was more than crowded, and the
guests' elbows clashed as they plied knives and forks. Pearl waited on
them, cheerfully refusing to sit down till all were plentifully served.

Sarah Petty was a careful housewife, and Orrin was as close as his
own shirt. But when they set out to entertain the Family they did it
right--no two ways about it! The long table was fairly burdened with
things to eat.

Solon was a master hand at such times as this. He he-hawed his great,
political laugh all through the meal, and declared more than once that
he was "a good table finisher--that was his trade," accepting a third
helping of baked fresh ham and "all the fixin's" to prove his statement.

Enoch tried to follow the set of his cousin's example, and was
particularly cordial to Cap'n Jonah. "They tell me you calc'late to
settle down here for good, Cap'n Hand?" he said insinuatingly.

"As long as Sarah will have me," replied Cap'n Jonah, briefly.

"Haw! haw!" exploded Solon. "I bet after this taste of Sarah's cookin'
you couldn't chase him away with a club. Hey, Cap'n Hand?"

Sarah preened, accepting the flattery. Cap'n Jonah was uncomfortable.
He was polite to the women, and he tried to speak when spoken to by the
men; but he gained at that meal a reputation for silence only equaled
by 'Poley and Perse Heath themselves.

Solon drew him like a badger from his hole, and Cap'n Jonah came to the
surface just as much against his will as does that obstinate beast.

"Le's see," said Solon, "you found chances of turning a penny out there
in the East such as we humdrum stay-at-homes never see, I suppose,
Captain? I knew a man once in your line that made a mint of money
shanghaiing coolies for the guano islands off Chile. You never dipped
into that trade, did you?"

"No. Never did," said Cap'n Jonah emphatically.

"They do say, too, that opium smuggling pays big in Chinese waters."

"I've heard tell," bit off the old mariner.

"And there's what they call the Chinese passenger trade--runnin' them
laundrymen into 'Frisco or Vancouver, when the immigrant inspectors
ain't lookin'. Know anything about that, Captain?"

"Only what you tell me," barked Cap'n Jonah, his eyebrows bristling.

"I expect you got your money in quieter ways, Cap'n Hand," put in Enoch
Petty, observing that his cousin's semi-humorous sallies were not taken
in good part.

"I got my money," began Cap'n Jonah in some heat. "I got my money----"
He hesitated, then simmered down to: "Wal, I got it as I got it.
Whatever!"

He did not possess Cap'n Abe Silt's imagination. He could not entertain
these curious people with an apocryphal history of the gathering of his
supposed treasure. And perhaps his very inability to explain made his
fortune seem the more real to them all.

Sarah, too, came to his rescue. She could not see Uncle Jonah
disturbed. How careful she now was for the comfort of "the dear old
soul!" It was really remarkable, as Aunt 'Poley said to the other
visiting aunts, to see how devoted Sarah was to her last remaining
blood-relative.

"Let us hope he'll pay her out right, for it," whispered Mrs. Enoch
Petty, the single doubting member of the tribe.

Sarah's regard for Cap'n Jonah's comfort was fairly overpowering. She
saw to it that tasty bits were heaped upon his plate and that his
coffee cup was kept filled. At dessert time it was:

"Pearly! don't forget to pass the cake again to Uncle Jonah. And that
mock cherry pie I made deep special for him, 'cause he likes it so.
Taste that beach plum sass, Uncle Jonah. I know you'll like it. Why!
you ain't et more'n enough to keep a sand-piper alive."

"Whatever!" remonstrated the master mariner. "You're killin' me with
kindness, Sarah."

And he could have said nothing which would have more thoroughly
gratified Sarah Petty. "The Family" had heard his commendation with
their own ears.

Back in his own room he whispered to Pearl, who attended him at Sarah's
behest with hot water, lemon, sugar, and a noggin of rum--a real
holiday treat: "Whatever! I might's well be out o' Barnum's show, I've
been exhibited so much. Nex' thing, Sarah Petty'll want me to roll
over and bark at the word of command. I dunno but I could stand her
meannesses better than I can her good will."

He managed to escape from time to time to the sanctum of the front
room. They did not follow him. But they invited him to join the general
company on all manner of pretexts.

The womenfolk, as he declared, tried to make a fool of him, while the
men endeavored to pump him dry regarding his adventures in the far
East, hoping thereby to get a line on his method of amassing a fortune
of a hundred thousand dollars.

He could see, too, that he was going to be a mark for all local
charities and objects of need. Mrs. Enoch Petty, who was a member of
all the women's clubs and associations there were on the Cape, tried
on several occasions to get a contribution from Cap'n Jonah for one or
another of the causes she patronized.

But Sarah Petty, like Orrin with the men visitors, guarded Uncle
Jonah's pocket with vigilance. There was no reason that she could see
why the old mariner's fortune should be scattered abroad on charities,
suffrage clubs, orphanages, or other so-called worthy causes.

"Charity begins at home," was Sarah Petty's fixed belief, and as far
as she was concerned she proposed to see that it stayed there.

The relief to Cap'n Jonah, at least, was great when the visit of the
Harwich folk came to an end on Monday. He accepted four separate and
privately given invitations to visit the several families at his
leisure, with the mental reservation that he would do so only when he
was in that state which he denominated "soft-headed."

"I've weathered Sarah and Orrin, both when they was down on me and now
that they seem to have had a change of heart. They air bad enough, I do
allow," he said to Cap'n Abe. "But I want to tell you right now, the
rest of the Petty family as fur as I've sampled it, runs wuss towards
the bottom of the cask.

"Solon Petty never got to the State Legislature because of his brains,
that's sure. Enoch Petty would rob a blind man, I do believe. And as
for them two old billygoats, Apollo and Perseus Heath, they'd drive a
man to strong drink an' no mistake."

He was too polite to state his opinion of the women of the Harwich
party. He hinted strongly, however, that he more firmly believed than
heretofore that wives were given to men as punishment for their sins.
"All but my own woman," he added with reverence. "She was a good
one--an' she didn't live long after we was married. I dunno but short
sweet'nin' is the best. We wasn't long enough together to git on one
another's nerves."

"Why," said Cap'n Abe, comfortably, "I dunno but you air too harsh on
'em, Cap'n Hand. You might easy find a woman at your age that would
make you a comfort'ble home. And if she had a bit of prop'ty, like the
Doc's sister----"

"Why ain't you tried it?" demanded the suspicious Cap'n Jonah.

"Oh! Wal! _Me?_" said Cap'n Abe, lowering his voice and casting a
quick glance over his shoulder to make sure that Betty Gallup, his
housekeeper, was not in the offing. "Ye see, I'm fretted enough by the
female sect as 'tis. I wouldn't want one under foot day _an'_ night."

"I guess," returned Cap'n Jonah, "your opinion an' mine, on the women,
is purty much of a muchness. Whatever!"

CHAPTER XXIII

THE CHRISTMAS GALE

This was Christmas week. There was the threat of a serious gale in the
air and sky and on the sea. There had already been a scale of snow upon
the ground, but rain had ensued and that promise of a white Christmas
had proved abortive.

The Christmas entertainment committee, of which Miss Sue Ambrose was
the very active chairman, had made most of its preparations for the
celebration in spite of the unexplained defection of Eliphalet Truitt.
Indeed, the ex-steward had been "acting offish" for so long that he
ceased to be a general topic of conversation save on one particular
point which, when mentioned, always brought smiles to the faces of his
neighbors--for they loved Life Truitt, no matter what his mood.

'Liphalet had almost shut himself up in his little box of a house
during the last few days. He shunned his fellow men--even Cap'n Jonah
with whom he had been friendly until recently--like any hermit. And
here it was the morning of the day before Christmas.

He scuffled out into his close kitchen, redolent of countless messes
of fried fish and potatoes, and set the lamp with its smoky chimney on
the deal board table before shaking the stove grate and opening all the
drafts for "full steam ahead."

It was a cold morning. The long promised gale out of the northeast was
driving the snow and sleet against the window with a "whish! whish!"
like the sound of fretful waves along the sands. Even through his thick
blue yarn socks which he had knitted himself the ex-steward felt the
cold seep in under the door, the latch of which rattled to the ghostly
hand of the gale.

He turned up the wick of the lamp and sat down with a sigh to slice
potatoes for frying. It was plain by the woebegone expression on
'Liphalet's face that his heart was not in this usually grateful
matutinal occupation.

Suddenly returning the knife and half a soggy boiled potato to the
table, he shrugged his feet into a pair of canvas shoes and, rising,
went to the rear door. He held it half open against the insistence of
the wind, staring off across the flatlands toward the sea from under
the sharp of one hand.

The snow squalls, driven in from the far-flung sea-line, burst like
bomb-shells along the shore, then swept inland in clouds of fine
snow-spray which stung like nettles even 'Liphalet's weather-burned
cheek.

Between these drifting sheets of sleet he dimly saw outlined the houses
of the neighbors on either side of the Shell Road and dotting the open
fields. Each was pricked out at this hour by the smoke of early kindled
kitchen fires, sucked out of the chimneys in fantastic forms by the
boisterous wind.

"It's goin' to be a humdinger," muttered 'Liphalet. "Last over
to-morrow, like enough, an' sp'ile everything. Ha! Sue an' them other
foolish folks that's been wishing for a white Christmas will get their
wish, I don't dispute. Ha!"

With this second snort of disgust he shut the gale out again. The draft
caused by the closing door sucked the flame of the lamp up through
the chimney and it went out with a "plop." The steel gray light of
the winter's dawn filtered in at the window, and, with the firelight,
furnished the kitchen a partial illumination.

'Liphalet settled himself again in the low rocking chair and picked up
the knife and the potato. "Ha! Sue an' the rest on 'em will get all the
white Christmas they want," he repeated. "Christmas--_bah_!"

The emphasis with which he thus expressed his spleen startled Bo'sun
from his nest in the wood-box behind the stove, and he came forth
yawning and stretching to rub a morning's greeting against his master's
shin. But even the friendliness of the cat did not temper the man's
unaccustomed mood.

The water began to hiss and bubble in the kettle. 'Liphalet reached
for the coffee-pot in which the ground coffee had been soaking in a
cup of cold water over night, and filled it from the boiling kettle.
The aroma permeated all the kitchen atmosphere immediately--an odor to
tempt the appetite of any hungry man.

But there was something not normal about 'Liphalet Truitt on this
morning. That keen edge to his appetite--a never-failing zest at
mealtime which had been his for nearly half a century--failed him now.
He dumped the handful of sliced potatoes into the pan where the pork
was sizzling, set it forward, and returned to his chair.

The kitchen was as compact and handy as his stateroom had always
been at sea, and from the rack overhead he reached down his battered
flute. Bo'sun fled--back arched and tail swollen to twice its natural
size--when 'Liphalet extracted from the instrument those introductory
mournful sounds which were always the prelude to his rendition of any
of his loved sea-ditties--even to "Fisher's Hornpipe." Music was the
single topic on which Bo'sun and 'Liphalet Truitt did not agree.

The flute on this morning, however,--never failing comforter as it had
been during his many voyages--did not soothe the ex-steward's troubled
breast. Its wail, mingling with the whine of the wind, might have been
the cry of the banshee of the gale rattling at the door latch for
sacrament.

"Drat the thing!" snarled 'Liphalet, flinging down the flute with
exasperation. "Nothin' does go right, and ain't likely to go right
again ever, I reckon." Then he added the phrase that seemed to be both
the text and context of his jeremiad: "Christmas--_bah_!"

Suddenly he began wrinkling his nose like a hound on a cold scent.

"Somethin' burnin'?" he questioned audibly. "By Hannah, it's them
'taters!"

He rescued but a scorched remnant of the potatoes and dumped it with a
grunt of disgust into Bo'sun's pan on the hearth; making a cold snack
with coffee do for his own breakfast. It was easy, indeed, to see that
'Liphalet Truitt was by no means his normal self.

He had washed his plate, cup and saucer and rinsed out the coffee pot
before he ventured into the partially sheltered porch again to view the
snowy world. In stinging phalanx the sleet continued to march across
the open fields. The hard ground was laced over with a thin scale of
ice. The road was deserted; but he presumed the committee would by and
by gather at the chapel to hang the Christmas greens and trim the tree
with refurbished tinsel ornaments and newly strung ropes of pink and
white popcorn.

He pulled the battered southwester over his ears and reached for the
key to the chapel door. The women would come to a cold and cheerless
audience room if did he not step across and light the fire.

Then, with the key in his hand, he stopped, suddenly venting another
snort of disgust and derision. "Christmas--_bah_!" Then he hung up the
key.

"If they want a fire for their foolishness, let 'em light it. If they
want a feller to fetch and carry, let 'em find somebody else. If they
want somebody to buy presents for and play jackanapes to a passel o'
young 'uns let 'em find a new Santa Claus. I've quit! I'll show 'em!"

A stuttering blast like nothing so much as a foghorn with the croup
next brought the ex-steward to his door and that before mid-forenoon.
He knew the voice of Doctor Ambrose's automobile; and there the
good physician was at the gate. The cranky mechanism of his car had
developed symptoms which baffled any snap diagnosis.

"Can't stop to fool with her at present," the doctor said jerkily, as
'Liphalet reached the scene. "I'm due at Carey Payne's right now. His
oldest has got pneumonia sure's you're a foot high, 'Liphalet. I've
been over to Suz Montevedo's, beyond The Beaches. He's got a relapse of
his inflammatory rheumatism. Can't lift hand nor foot, and nobody to do
for him."

"Some o' these fool women that'll be playin' there in the church by
an' by 'ud much better be doin' a neighborly turn for the Portugee,"
grumbled 'Liphalet.

"Sue's gone over," Doctor Ambrose said, jerking his black bag out from
under the seat of the stalled car. "She's left Pearl Holden to boss the
trimmin' of the chapel. Well----"

"She ain't gone to old Montevedo's shack alone?" demanded 'Liphalet.
"In this mess o' weather? What in tarnation was you thinking of, Doc?"

The physician flashed him a grim look. "I'm thinking you are about as
much out o' kilter as this car of mine. Didn't you just say the women
ought to tend to 'Suz? Well, that's what one of them's doing. Your
liver's out of order, I tell you, 'Liphalet----"

"You dumbhead!" roared 'Liphalet. "The gale 'ud blow a strong man off
the surfman's path along the sand cliffs, let alone a frail woman. All
you got in your mind is liver pills! Ha! I should think you'd have some
sense."

"It seems I haven't," responded the doctor coolly. "I reckon Sue can
take care of herself. She's been out o' leadin' strings some years
now," and he started off through the driving sleet without waiting for
'Liphalet's rejoinder.

"Ha!" snorted the latter, trying to peer shoreward. "I dunno what's
comin' over folks. All on 'em goin' plum crazy, I vum! Liver--ha!

"What's a woman want to start off along The Beaches on a day like this
for? And ye'd think even Doc Ambrose 'ud have more sense than to let
her."

Then, fussing and fuming, he buttoned tight the curtains and storm
shield of the deserted car, and finally dragged a tarpaulin from his
shed, and with difficulty pinned it securely over the entire car,
blanketing the radiator so that it might not freeze. When the gale
abated John-Ed Card or some other neighbor who owned a team of horses
would come and drag the doctor's car home--a grateful service which
none ever refused to perform for the busy physician.

'Liphalet retired to the kitchen and stoked the fire.

"Thank the good Lord," he said, "I can stay b'low 'stead of goin' aloft
in this weather. Bein' neighborly and charitable is all right, I don't
dispute. But charity begins to home. And by Hannah! that's where Sue
Ambrose ought to be this minute."

He jumped up so suddenly at this thought that Bo'sun fled again,
fearing some domestic catastrophe. His master paid him no heed. He
could not sit content with the thought of Miss Sue facing this gale
along the sand cliff beyond Tapp Point.

There the surfmen's beaten path on the edge of the high bank was often
eaten into--bitten out in savage mouthfuls by the wolfish breakers.
They would be running high, 'Liphalet knew, with this gale. Whenever
he opened the door the drumming of the surf along The Beaches was
audible--like an organ accompaniment to the storm.

He could see in his mind's eye the small figure in its gray cloak
"beating up" against this sizzling tempest. It was getting worse
hourly. At sea, with plenty of leeway, 'Liphalet would have considered
this storm "just a snifter." With the sound planks of a seaworthy craft
under one's feet a man need seldom fear the elements. But so many
accidents are likely to happen ashore!

It was a long walk to the old shack of Suz Montevedo in any
weather--half a mile beyond Tapp's Folly, as the ornate villa of the
Salt Water Taffy King was disrespectfully called. The surfmen from the
life saving station had no love for that path in an ugly blow like
this, or on a dark night in any case. The snow, too, was blinding.

"By Hannah!" ejaculated the ex-steward finally, "I wouldn't call
Doc Ambrose to cure my dog of fleas. He don't show right good
sense--lettin' his sister traipse 'way over there alone. Ugh!" He was
at the door again now. "'Tain't fittin' for a cat to be out."

Then he proceeded to button himself into a thick pilot coat, tucked his
trousers into sea boots, buckled the strap of his southwester under his
jaw, and plunged into the seething gale.

There was not a soul on the road to The Beaches. The storm was so
blinding that he did not seek to cut across lots and so save steps; but
kept on along the Shell Road, passing Cap'n Abe's store, which from
without and on this particular occasion looked to be anything but the
lively spot it usually was.

The summer residents had closed their homes and long since gone to
other places. All, that is, save the younger Tapps, who occupied
their new house on the Point summer and winter. 'Liphalet pressed on
along the firm road of well tamped shell, past these dwellings of the
wealthy, without hailing or being hailed by anybody.

Beyond the high wall and ornate gates of the Tapp estate, on the bare
cliff, the full force of the wind-driven sleet struck him "square
betwixt the eyes," as 'Liphalet expressed it.

He fairly had to crouch against this, turning a shoulder to the force
of the wind. Here the outthrust of the land gave the storm a sweep
across the brow of the cliff while the breakers, charging in from the
open sea, flung themselves ravenously against the crumbling wall of
sand and clay--an unstable barrier at best.

With such a sea as this on, the surfmen from the life-saving station
could not patrol the beach itself, and their worn path along the verge
of the fifty foot bank was the only footway to the Portuguese's shack.

'Liphalet hesitated. It did not seem as though any woman could
successfully face such a gale. The prospect was one to make the
strongest man turn back. He shielded his eyes with both hands cupped,
and tried to pierce the snow and sleet with a vision long inured to
penetrating thick weather.

There came a momentary lull in the gale. The sweeping snow parted like
a curtain. It fled away over the cliff, and for a space he could see
for some distance along the path.

Was that a snow wraith hovering there on the brow of the high bank? Or
was it a human figure which, the next moment, was swallowed in the snow
curtain?

'Liphalet, vastly disturbed by this uncertain specter in the storm,
plunged into it himself again and pressed ahead.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE MISTLETOE BOUGH

Until the day before Christmas, ushered in by the long-threatened gale,
nobody had seen Joe Helmford along the Shell Road since he had left
the Petty place. Cap'n Jonah had been unable to hunt up the young man
and learn, if he could, just why he had so abruptly departed from the
neighborhood.

In spite of the bustle attending the presence of the guests over Sunday
and the thorough cleaning up after them which followed, Pearl Holden
could not for a moment forget the young man. And her worry of mind was
advertised upon her pretty face. There were shadows under her eyes and
an unnatural pallor spread over her cheeks.

Cap'n Jonah had strong suspicions as to the reason for Pearl's changed
appearance, although she would admit nothing. He had watched the
intimacy growing day by day between the girl and Helmford, and, arrant
matchmaker that he was, he hoped to see its fruition in an acknowledged
engagement of the two young people.

Should Pearl marry a man like Helmford, one great burden would be
lifted from Cap'n Jonah's mind. He often felt that he had done a wrong,
a grievous wrong, to the girl in intimating that he had a fortune
and would will all or part of it to her. He presumed that Pearl bore
this half-promise he had made in mind, just as the Pettys bore it in
mind; and having nothing to give Pearl after all, the master mariner's
troubles were thereby added to. If the girl was only sure to marry a
smart young fellow like Joe Helmford----

Therefore he kept a sharp outlook for the man from the fish hatchery,
and even inquired for him at Cap'n Abe's store. But Helmford had not
been seen in the vicinity since the day of his departure from the Petty
house.

On this storm-pelted morning, however, when most wise folk kept
indoors--and glad to have such shelter--Joe Helmford could not
be content in his warm and cozy quarters at Mrs. Wetherel's. His
present boarding place was much more to his taste--barring Pearl's
absence--than the Pettys', save that it was farther from his work.

The Wetherels were urban folk, with the conveniences and the personal
requirements that go with such environment. The daughters were
strictly, however, what Pearl had once called "sour-cranberry old
maids"--otherwise spinsters as fixed in their orbits as the planets.
Even the presence of a young and marriageable man in the house caused
no flutter of their hearts. Their maiden affections had never been in
the least awakened.

Mrs. Wetherel made Joe very comfortable without any fuss about it, and
the "Wetherel girls," so-called, were not unpleasant associates at meal
time. Nevertheless, Helmford went around with a countenance almost the
equal of 'Liphalet Truitt's.

He could not remain indoors on this wretchedly stormy day. In the first
place, he was expecting something at the post-office which Noah Coffin
should have brought the night before on his stage, locally known, out
of compliment to Noah's name, as "the Ark."

Helmford had sent for the article in question as soon as Miss Sue had
asked him to help decorate the Mariner's Chapel for the Christmas
entertainment. Now he plodded through the beating storm in a very
different mood from that which he had expected to enjoy when his
purchase arrived.

"Yes!" and the post-master passed it out to Helmford with:

"Christmas gif, Mr. Helmford? They are just pouring in on us. But I
doubt if Noah'll make more'n one trip to-day, 'nless this storm breaks.
She's purty rough outside, ain't she?"

Helmford admitted that "she" was. Nevertheless he did not turn back
toward his boarding place; but instead, with the light but bulky box
under his arm, he faced the gale and forced his way through it, past
the Cardhaven Inn and around the corner into the highway that led to
the Shell Road neighborhood.

There was nobody on the road, nor did he see anybody at the
frost-covered windows as he plodded on. There was no sign of life about
the Ambrose cottage; but when he got to Eliphalet Truitt's he saw the
doctor's automobile stalled outside the fence.

"Can it be that 'Liphalet is ill?" thought Helmford.

He turned in at the gate and stamped his feet free of snow on the
ex-steward's steps. The kitchen door was unfastened as usual. He peered
in and saw the glowing stove and Bo'sun comfortably purring before it.
He shouted for 'Liphalet, receiving no answer.

Then, knowing as did everybody else in the community, where the chapel
key was kept, he ran his hand along the clapboards and found the nail.
The key was there. Then, thought Helmford, he was the first of the
decorating committee to arrive.

He took down the key and kept on to the vestry door. The dead chill of
the place struck him as he entered.

"Wonder what's happened to Mr. Truitt," Helmford thought; for he, like
everybody else, expected the taut little ex-steward to do all the
chores of the chapel as a matter of course.

The fire was laid in the Baltimore heater, and soon the young man had
it roaring and the heat radiating from the surface of the stove below
as well as rising through the register above, in the audience room.

The piles of greens were ready for the workers; but nobody arrived.
Helmford opened the box he had brought from the post-office. In it was
as fine a bough of mistletoe as he had ever seen. It had been sent to
him from Boston by parcel post.

When he had sent for this bit of Christmas decoration he had secretly
borne Pearl in mind. There was something more in the significance of
the mistletoe than a mere pleasantry. He thrilled even now at the
thought of pressing the girl's dewy lips with his own, under the
benison of the Christmas bough. How lovely Pearl was in her sweet
simplicity.

Joe Helmford, when he bought the mistletoe, had been playing with fire.
He knew it now. He had come to a full realization of it when Tom Petty
had attacked him on the Shell Road and he had struck that single blow
in Pearl Holden's and his own defense.

Bitter indeed had been his thoughts as he packed his things that night
after speaking his mind to the Pettys. He had allowed himself to go so
far with Pearl Holden that he felt he should never be at peace again.
She was the object of a growing and consuming passion, and he could not
put thought of her away.

Yet, there stood the specter of Cap'n Jonah's fortune between them!
He could not deliberately besiege the heart of this girl who had been
chosen to be the recipient of the old seaman's wealth. But how he now
desired to see Pearl again and to be with her!

He hid the mistletoe bough away in the sexton's closet under the
stairs. Then he went to the door to gaze out upon the storm. Nobody was
coming toward the chapel that he could see. It was past the hour Miss
Sue had set for the decorators to gather, and she was not here herself.
Nor was Pearl coming, it seemed.

The storm was increasing; but so disturbing were the young man's
thoughts that he scarcely noticed that fact as he stepped out into it
again and closed the vestry door behind him.

His mind and heart on fire with the passionate thoughts that had
assailed him for days past, Joe Helmford began, like 'Liphalet Truitt,
to challenge the storm; through the buffeting of the elements he sought
mental peace again.

* * * * *

Miss Sue, called to Suz Montevedo's on her charitable mission, had
depended upon Pearl to take the lead in the decoration of the chapel
for the next day's celebration. Unexpected events, however, barred
Pearl from going to the rendezvous at the hour appointed. Indeed, a
greater storm was destined to rage inside the Petty house on this day
than swept the Cape Cod coast.

There seemed to be a lull in the gale about mid-forenoon, and Cap'n
Jonah, who did not read much and had small means of self entertainment,
bundled up in oils and southwester and ventured forth, bound shoreward.
When he faced the full force of the gale on the open highway he was
really tempted to return.

"Whatever!" he muttered. "This ain't fittin' for a dog to be out in. If
it keeps up this way, it's goin' to spile all the fun to-morrow."

Although he observed nobody on the road, he found when he stumbled up
the steps of the store and lifted the doorlatch that Cap'n Abe was
not left even on this blusterous day without his company of habitual
loungers.

"Hi-mighty!" cried the storekeeper, as Cap'n Jonah staggered in and put
his back against the door which had been all but torn from his grasp by
the wind. "Hi-mighty, Cap'n Hand! can't you find no better weather to
bring 'long with you when you come visiting?

"Hear that sleet slammin' on the clapboards, will you?" he proceeded,
as Cap'n Joab and Washy Gallup made room for the newcomer at the
stove. "Must sound like the gale Peleg Fosdick, of the _Sarah
Truesdale_, weathered the time he run under the lee of the sand cliffs
at Barrows Neck.

"Peleg, they say, although he was the skipper of a haddocker for years
an' years, was always afraid of a capful of wind. A summer squall
looked as big to him as a hurricane; and if he had ever got into a
reg'lar no'theast snorter like this one, I reckon he'd died o' heart
failure.

"If it come on to blow and he could, he'd up hooks an' run for shelter,
no matter where, till he could see the end o' bad weather. And they do
tell about his holdin' an umbrella over himself in a thunder shower
when he was at the _Sarah Truesdale's_ wheel," and the storekeeper
broke into a mellow chuckle and tucked his silver-bowed spectacles
higher on his bald brow.

"Ord'narily he went below when it rained or blew. He was jest as techy
about gettin' wet as a cat. Come one time they tell of, and a brisk
gale come up while the _Sarah Truesdale_ was on the Dogfish Bank. Sun
goin' down as pretty as you could wish; but jest the same, Cap'n Peleg
Fosdick seen bad weather comin' in his mind's eye.

"So they run for it, he an' his mate an' the boy. Barrows Neck, where
is piled all the loose sand that was left over after they made the
Desert of Sairah, offered the nearest shelter. Peleg run in there and
droppd his mudhook just as a hand's breath of cloud spilt a shower on
him. It was near night and he dove below and didn't calc'late to go
aloft again while it rained.

"His mate asked him was he goin' to stop there, with the hold half full
o' fish, and Peleg made reply he was calc'latin' to. So the mate an'
the boy took the dory and rowed ashore to Barrowsport and Peleg stayed
under hatches listenin' to the rain slammin' on the deck and thinkin'
how smart he was to seek shelter as he'd done.

"Wal," pursued Cap'n Abe, "the rain didn't 'pear to stop, and Peleg
went to bed. He didn't know if the mate an' the boy come back or not.
But when he woke up in the morning the first thing he heard was the
rain still a-swishin' on the schooner's deck. He had his deadlights
curtained and 'twas dark below. The wind was still blowin' from the
same quarter.

"'Almighty stormy mornin','" says Peleg, and turns over in bed. Nobody
disturbed him, for his mate had got into a fight ashore and was in the
calaboose, and the boy'd got a chance to ship on a trawler at better
wages and had took French leave.

"So the _Sarah Truesdale_ lay there purty near all day, an' might ha'
laid there till the fish in her hold stank, if a feller hadn't come
along wantin' to borrer some bait.

"He opened the cabin door and Peleg sat up in bed to see the afternoon
sunshine streamin' over all. The _Sarah Truesdale_ had been there
twenty-four hours.

"'What's the matter here?' asked the feller after bait. 'You sick, or
somethin'?'

"Peleg's ears wagged like a houn' dog's. He could still hear the rain
(or so he supposed) patterin' on the deck.

"'If you don't git up your hook and warp out of here,' says the other
feller, 'your smack'll be sunk along o' the deckload o' sand that's
been blowin' on to ye from them sandcliffs all night It's ankle deep
out here right now.'"

For once Cap'n Abe got a laugh from most of the idlers. But Cap'n
Jonah was in a serious mood. He followed the storekeeper to the end of
the counter where he was tying up packages of sugar ready for prompt
delivery. It was dark at this end of the store, for the windows were
completely clouded by the frozen sleet.

"Wal, Cap'n Hand, how goes the battle?" asked the storekeeper, with
amusement written large on his genial face. "How does it seem to be a
millionaire, or thereabout?"

Cap'n Jonah took a huge pinch of snuff from his silver box, rapped
the cover with his knuckle, and sneezed softly. "Whatever!" he almost
groaned. "It ain't no laughin' matter, Mr. Silt, this here tryin' to
make folks think you air something you ain't."

"Sure-_ly_," interposed Cap'n Abe, "tain't no trick to fool Sarah and
Orrin Petty. They air only too willin' to fool themselves. If you _had_
a hundred thousan' dollars----"

"I'd give half of it to git out o' the mess I'm in," snapped Cap'n
Jonah. "You don't know what it means, Mr. Silt, to be foolin' your
friends, as well as those you don't keer a jasper for."

"Oh! _don't_ I?" ejaculated Cap'n Abe significantly, his memory stung
by thought of Cap'n Amazon.

"This foolin' Pearly an' young Helmford, an' even Cap'n Beecher and
Miss Sue and the Doc an' all, does go against the grain. If them bonds
and sheer certificates I showed that half-baked boy of Sarah Petty's
was real, instead of phony, and I was rich 'stead of scurcely havin' a
cent to bless myself with, I'd be the happiest man alive, I do guess.
But as 'tis----"

He spoke earnestly, and he meant it, did Cap'n Jonah. He was never cut
out for a deceitful man, and the strain of the hateful situation was
telling on him.

Cap'n Abe was called to the rear premises by Betty Gallup, the "Able
Seaman," before he could make reply to the troubled captain. The latter
drifted back into the radiance of the stove's warmth.

Then out of the dark pocket between soap boxes and sugar barrels at
the end of the counter rose up a figure, the presence of which neither
of the old men had suspected. There was a door into the side hall of
Cap'n Abe's house right here. The eavesdropper opened this softly and
passed through unobserved.

Once in the entry, he opened the outside door and slipped out into
the storm. So excited and enraged was he that he scarcely noticed
the buffeting of the snow and sleet. He plunged through it, his face
twitching violently, his hands clenched, rage and chagrin seething in
his breast.

For once Tom Petty, thick-headed though he was, was thoroughly aroused.

CHAPTER XXV

THE PRICE OF HEROISM

'Liphalet Truitt lifted the latch of Suz Montevedo's door, and a groan
was the response to his first hail.

"By Hannah! you're darker'n the inside of a nigger's pocket here," he
said. "How ye doin', Suz?"

"Bad, Mist' Life! Oh, so ver' bad!" moaned the Portuguese, who was a
good deal of a child in time of sickness.

"And all alone?" 'Liphalet's tone was rather shocked.

"Ah, I haf not been alone, Mist' Life. The saints be praised! I haf had
an angel veesitor."

'Liphalet was relieved to some degree. He knew he was on the right
trail. "Where's this here angel gone?" he asked dryly.

"I know not. Where do angels go when they have made a veesit of mercy,
Mist' Life? Do they not return to heaven?" queried the poetical Suz.

The ex-steward was willing to agree that Doctor Ambrose's old-fashioned
parlor had often seemed near heaven to him. But he eventually got down
to practicalities with Montevedo. Miss Sue had been there for more than
an hour. She had tidied up the shack, cooked some food for the man, and
left more, with a cooling drink and the doctor's medicine within his
reach. She had promised to come again on the morrow, while she hoped to
send Washy Gallup to spend the night with him.

"But eef my leetle Loretta was here, she would do for me," moaned Suz.

"That fly-away young'un!" ejaculated 'Liphalet. "She can't do nothin'
but dance. Crazy as a sand-piper. She's better off with her father's
people and you're better off here without her, Suz."

Montevedo's hands and knees were swollen to twice their natural size,
and, like all other persons so afflicted, he could not keep the
affected parts quiet. It always seems to the sufferer from inflammatory
rheumatism that some other position than that in which the aching
member is, would be more comfortable. The swollen and padded hands and
arms of the fisherman aroused 'Liphalet's sympathy; but he had still
another question to ask.

"How long since Miss Sue left here, Suz? Seems like I ought to've met
her comin' along from Tapp Point, if not t'other side of it."

"She be gone twenty minutes--not more," groaned the sufferer.

"Twenty minutes? Nonsense!" ejaculated 'Liphalet. "I was all that
comin' along the cliff. I didn't see nary sign of her."

"Did I not say she was an angel?" cried Montevedo. "Ah, _Dios_! She has
been carried home t'rough the storm in a chariot of the saints."

"By Hannah!" ejaculated his visitor, rebuttoning his coat, "she's more
likely to have been carried over that bank by the wind, and without no
chariot. Twenty minutes ago? Are you sure, Suz?"

"Oh, yes, Mist' Life. Sure as sure," sighed the fisherman. "It seemed
she had scarcely closed the door when you opened it."

The other said no further word, and he stood not on the order of his
going. He plunged out of the shack into the gale with a stricture about
his heart that was positively painful. Twenty minutes before he had
been at the beginning of the patrol path, there by the corner of the
Tapp estate. Through a rift in the curtain of sleet he had seen faintly
that wraith, or figure, staggering for an instant on the verge of the
cliff.

Had that ghostly specter of the storm been Sue Ambrose?

Where could she have gone from Suz Montevedo's shack save toward home?
Yet he had not met her as he plowed along the patrol path. In the other
direction there was no dwelling until one reached the life saving
station. And he was sure Miss Sue would not go there. Why should she?
Was it a haven she craved, the fisherman's shack under this sheltering
bank was sufficient.

Had she started for home, what other way could the doctor's sister have
gone save by the path by which 'Liphalet came to Suz Montevedo's hovel?
The ex-steward, backed up against the driving sleet, trying to pierce
the smother ahead of him with fear-sharpened vision, chewed for that
moment a bitter cud of uncertainty.

To the right, across the vacant lots and by an uncertain path, lay
Betty Gallup's little cottage. But the "Able Seaman" was at this time
of day redding up the rooms behind and above the store on the Shell
Road, and her door would be locked. No storm would keep Mrs. Gallup at
home, and the doctor's sister must know there would be no refuge for
her there.

The path by which she must have come to the shack, was the path by
which she must have essayed her return--this along the treacherous
verge of the sand cliff. Yet taking the Portuguese fisherman's
statement of time with more than the proverbial grain of salt, Miss
Sue could not have so quickly reached the one open house along The
Beaches--that of the younger Tapps--wherein to find shelter.

The ground, of course, offered no spoor of any character. The force of
the wind was driving the snow and sleet so rapidly that nothing stuck
to the frozen earth. No footprint of any kind, therefore, was visible.

The fierceness of the wind, so apparent now to 'Liphalet as he leaned
back against it, roweled the fear already roused in his heart. With
this blast behind her how could Sue Ambrose's frail body have offered
resistance?

In coming over from Tapp Point he had noted no fresh break in the bank
where any part of the patrol path had been recently carried away.
However, as he had declared to Doctor Ambrose, the wind was strong
enough to have picked up his sister and swept her bodily over the
cliff's verge. This thought, born of the travail of the ex-steward's
mind, took hold upon him now with a grip that was not to be shaken
off--with a certainty that no optimism could deny. And just now
Eliphalet Truitt was in no optimistic mood.

He felt that his suspicion of Sue Ambrose's fate was a certainty.
Possibly the moment following that lull in the gale when he was able
to see some distance along the patrol path, was the instant she had
come to grief. He remembered vividly the spot at which he had seen that
wraith of the storm.

Her cry as she was carried over the brink would be smothered in the
hullabaloo of the gale. He had passed the place of her catastrophe and
had heard nothing to warn him that she had there come to disaster. The
breakers were covering the narrow beach with wreckage and all manner of
culch. At some points they dashed against the bluff itself and reached
ravening hands half way up its face.

'Liphalet knew well the lay of the land here, and every contour and
wavering line of the cliff. In his mind's eye he saw a picture of that
bit of the bluff where he believed the tragedy had taken place.

He whirled suddenly, with a prayer upon his lips, and dashed into the
shed adjoining Suz Montevedo's cottage. There upon a wooden peg hung
the coil of line he had seen the fisherman purchase at Cap'n Abe's
store a week ago, to reeve new halyards on the catboat, _Loretta_.

In the corner stood a heavy crowbar. He flung the coil of rope over his
head and one shoulder, hoisted the iron bar to his other shoulder, and
thus burdened, staggered out into the storm again. The wind was really
an aid to him, for it was at first almost directly at his back. It
thrust him on, burden and all, at a furious pace.

But its cant was toward the edge of the cliff, and he fought away from
that. How could Sue have kept her feet against such a tempest? It was a
mystery. 'Liphalet Truitt groaned again. Her frail body might even now
be tossing in the breakers against the shelving face of the high bank,
from the brow of which he tried at every few rods to peer down into the
tumbling, boiling sea.

He arrived at the spot where he believed the doctor's sister had come
to grief. The snow and wind were both increasing in intensity. He could
see nothing at a distance of two yards. Nevertheless, he was assured
of his position. Here was where he had seen that mysterious spectral
figure in the storm.

He stepped back at least two fathoms from the patrol path and drove the
point of the bar into the frozen earth. Again and again he thrust it
downward, with his weight behind each blow, until finally he could work
it around and around, sinking it into the sandy soil for as much as two
feet.

The bar could not easily be drawn out, and he looped the end of the
line over it. This once secure, he allowed the slack of the line to run
free over the verge of the bluff.

He would have shouted in vain. The thunder of the breakers and the
howling of the wind made a pandemonium above which no human voice could
rise. Had Sue Ambrose been within twenty feet of him, the man could not
have made her hear.

Obsessed with the idea that she had been carried over the cliff, he
seized the line and lowered himself, hand under hand, down the break of
it. His head once below the brink, he was immediately out of the gale's
tumult. It roared above him as the sea roared below; but he was in a
calm, and having cleared his eyes with the back of one hand, could
look about.

His feet had an unstable placement on the face of the pitched bank;
but the line gave him confidence. Here, ten feet below the brow of the
cliff, the flying spume from the bursting waves stung his cheek. Here
and there as his vision cleared he beheld patches of snow clinging to
the steep bank. Yonder was something on a narrow shelf that was not
snow. A dark figure--a human figure! Its garments fluttered in the
suction of the rifted air.

"Sue! My God! Sue!"

His cry was simultaneous with the mighty swing he gave his body, his
boots thrust against the crumbling bank. She lay a third of the way
down the bluff. The foam from the crests of the breakers saturated
her as they tore up the steep ascent. He swung to her side, landing
with both boots digging into the frozen sand for a foothold. She was
kneeling, her gloved hands clasped in prayer. His coming seemed to her
a direct answer to her petition.

[Illustration: He swung to her side, landed with both boots digging
into the frozen sand for a foothold.]

"'Liphalet! The good Lord has sent you to me!" she gasped, and he read
the words on her lips rather than heard them.

"By Hannah! mebbe He did," responded 'Liphalet. "But I hadn't thought
on it that way till you said it, Susan. How did you get down here?"

"I--I fell."

"I thought likely," was his grim response. "And now we're goin' to
have somethin' of a time to scramble up again."

"Is there nobody to help us, 'Liphalet?"

"Ain't a soul stirring this weather. All sensible folks is to home,"
was his mild criticism of her conduct in venturing forth. "Even the
station crew won't go on patrol before four o'clock. Ev'rybody but us
is as snug as hermit crabs.

"But don't ye lose heart, Sue," he added cheerfully. "I'll git ye out
o' this all right."

"I don't doubt it, 'Liphalet," she returned, clinging to his arm with
both hands and gazing expectantly into his face.

The ex-steward was seriously tempted. The peril of their position
sloughed away from his mind for the moment. He gazed down into her
uplifted face and believed he saw there a response to his unspoken
desire.

And then there swept over him, like the curtain of snow and sleet that
had buffeted him on the brow of the cliff, the chilling thought of that
forty thousand dollars! That fortune which she had hoarded--of which
she had evidently spent so little during these ten bitter years--parted
them. He could not bring himself into the appearance of being a fortune
hunter.

He wished with all his heart and soul Sue Ambrose's money had fallen
with her down the face of the cliff. He would cut it loose and save her
for himself--letting the raging sea take toll of her hateful wealth!

Already he was knotting the line under her arms in true reefer fashion.
He showed her by gesture as well as word of mouth, how to cling to him
as he climbed--actually setting her pickaback across his loins--so that
he might have both hands free.

Miss Sue, though of almost childish figure, was no weakling. As for
'Liphalet, he silently thanked the Almighty his years of active life at
sea had toughened his muscles and sinews and steadied his mind against
times of stress. With his boots thrust against the broken, frosted
bank, he pulled himself and his burden upward by the sheer strength of
his arms, working his way hand above hand along the rope.

Nor was the attempt without a certain heart-sickening peril. The shale
rattled from under his boots wherever he set them. The whole face of
the sand cliff was, at this point it seemed, as loose as ashes. Suppose
that bar, thrust into the earth above, should loosen! It might pull out
at any moment and cast them both into the ravening flood.

Even as Eliphalet Truitt thought of this horrid possibility, a great
sea rose below them, burst, and the wash of it almost sucked them down.
Tons upon tons of earth were bitten out of the bank, and he was in
actual panic for the moment. Had he not come at the moment he had to
Sue's rescue, it would have been too late. The ledge on which she had
lain was engulfed.

He climbed on. He could not see Miss Sue's features, but he knew her
lips whispered a prayer at his ear.

"And who can gauge the height to which a good woman's prayer ascends?"
thought 'Liphalet, and was inspirited by the thought--and pressed on
mightily.

His anxious gaze was fixed on the brow of the bank, into which the line
had so deeply cut. This upper section of the face of the cliff must
have been woefully weakened by the undermining of the sea that had
just broken around them. He expected momentarily to see the cliff for
yards on either hand topple outward and fall, overwhelming them in an
avalanche.

It might be that the driving of the crowbar into the hard soil beyond
the patrol path was all that was needed to crack off a huge slice of
the cliff's edge. Its barren top had offered nothing upon which the
loop of the line could have been fixed. But he felt that he had done
his best, whatever came.

Shrieking above them, the wind flung the sleet and snow yards beyond
the cliff's edge; therefore they were sheltered until he had climbed to
the very brow of the bank. He was almost breathless; he waited a few
seconds before essaying the final effort with which to drag himself
and his burden out upon the level ground.

It was then that he felt the earth's first tremor. The face of the
cliff was actually heaving outward!

The line slipped. He dropped with his burden for a foot or more.

"She's goin'!" was 'Liphalet's gasped ejaculation, and he scrambled
desperately upward, determined to make the brink and safety with the
woman he loved.

CHAPTER XXVI

CAP'N JONAH'S CHALLENGE

There was a satisfaction for Joe Helmford in his present mood, in
putting his head down, clenching his fists, and struggling with the
blowing sleet and snow as though the storm were an actual enemy. The
rather impassive, gentle-mannered young man craved action to appease
the turmoil aroused in his heart.

Unlike 'Liphalet Truitt, who had allowed ten unfruitful years to drag
by while his heart and soul starved for the woman whose fortune kept
him at a distance, Helmford's young blood surged against the barrier he
was setting between himself and Pearl Holden.

He wanted Pearl. He believed the girl had shown him as plainly as a
modest girl could, that she was interested in him. Hang Cap'n Jonah's
fortune! Was it to spoil his life and that of Pearl as well?

Helmford desired to take Pearl away from her present environment and to
make her the object of his own care. He wanted her to come to him with
empty hands but a full heart. He was quite romantic enough to feel that
a single thought of the fortune which Cap'n Jonah had promised her,
would utterly spoil their happiness.

As he pressed on down the Shell Road in the face of the gale, he
glanced in passing up the Petty lane. He saw no sign of life about the
house; but had he been a few minutes earlier he would have seen Tom
Petty, fresh from Cap'n Abe's store, black-browed and passion-inflamed,
stamp up the porch steps and burst into the kitchen where his mother
was cooking dinner and his father sat reading the Paulmouth _Argus_.

But Helmford did meet Cap'n Jonah as he issued from the store and was
about to head homeward.

"Well, well!" was the master mariner's greeting, "you're a fine feller.
Where have you been keepin' yourself? And why in tarnation did you cut
your cable and put to sea as you did? Do you s'pose you ain't got any
friends--or don't you want any?"

"Why, Cap'n Jonah," said Helmford, leading the old man into the shelter
of one of Cap'n Abe's sheds, "I had no intention of ignoring you. I
fancied you would hear all about it from the Pettys and--and Miss
Pearl."

"Pearly? What does she know about it? She says you never told her you
were goin' to leave. And Sarah Petty's ne'er mentioned your name from
that day to this."

"Didn't Miss Pearl tell you of what happened yonder on the road, when
she was coming home from church?"

"The night before you slipped your moorings? Nary a word," declared
Cap'n Jonah, emphatically.

Helmford was rather taken aback. If Pearl had not told the old seaman
of the incident perhaps she did not want it mentioned to him. Just how
much the girl might be attached to Tom Petty, rough and uncouth as he
was, Helmford did not know.

"Come now!" exclaimed Cap'n Jonah. "Let's hear the whole on't. I
thought that gal was keepin' something back, but I didn't know what
'twas. You an' she didn't have no quarrel?"

"Pearl and I? Certainly not!" replied Helmford indignantly. Then he
smiled grimly. "But I did have a brief set-to with Tom Petty."

"Whatever!" ejaculated Cap'n Jonah. "And you let that lout put you out?"

"I put myself out. I did not care to remain and quarrel with him
continually--as I should."

"'Hem! Ye-as. I expect there might ha' been bad blood 'twixt you. Over
Pearly, of course."

"Now, Cap'n Hand," interrupted Helmford emphatically. "I will not
discuss Miss Pearl's private affairs at all. It is not my business to
do so. You have told me that you intend making her the beneficiary
of your will. Whatever my personal regard may be for Miss Pearl that
fact, in itself, would preclude my being a rival of Tom Petty's for her
favor----"

"Hoity-toity!" ejaculated Cap'n Jonah. "The kettle _has_ b'iled over
for a fac'! Air you another loony feller like Life Truitt? Afraid of a
woman if she has a little tad of money?"

"At least, I respect myself--and Miss Pearl--too much to have it said
that I address her because she expects to possess your fortune, Cap'n
Jonah, when you are gone. Tom Petty has already accused me of that."

"And what did you say to him?" demanded the old man.

"I didn't say much. I knocked him down," confessed Helmford.

"Whew!" whistled the captain, his eyes snapping with excitement "I'd
like to have seen you do that. And I bet Pearly would too!"

"She did."

"She was there an' saw the fracas?"

"It wasn't a fracas," explained Helmford, rather shamefaced. "He tried
to hit me with a club, and I got at him first. That's all."

"And Pearly saw it? With her own eyes? How'd she act?" demanded the
eager captain.

"She--she cried. Of course she was frightened," the young man said,
somewhat puzzled by the other's questions.

"'Hem! She didn't throw herself on Tom an' cry 'cause you'd fetched him
a wallop?"

"Certainly not!" exclaimed Helmford somewhat angrily.

"Looks, then," observed Cap'n Jonah shrewdly, "as though she wasn't
much int'rested in Tom. Dunno how she could be. I reckon you air no
rival of his'n----"

"If you please, Cap'n Hand," interrupted Helmford gruffly, "we will not
discuss the matter at all. Miss Pearl is not for me. She should marry a
man of equal fortune."

He turned abruptly, and instead of entering the store as had been his
intention, he stormed along the road and up the easy ascent toward
Tapp Point and the exposed sand cliff beyond which, at that moment,
'Liphalet Truitt was searching for Sue Ambrose.

Cap'n Jonah allowed the young man to go without further speech; but
he watched him out of sight in the driving snow, shaking his head
thoughtfully.

"Whatever!" he muttered. "Dern the fortune, anyway! Looks as though
'twas a boomerang. If them phony sheers sarves to keep them two young
folks apart, then I have made a mess, and no mistake!"

He was only half an hour or so behind Tom in reaching the house.
But that half hour had served to change the atmosphere of the Petty
household from that of cheerful complacency to one of fierce and eager
antagonism to Cap'n Jonah.

Tom had brought into the kitchen something worse than the snow that
stuck to his boots, although his mother had first of all begun to scold
about that.

"What's got into you, Tom Petty? Don't you know enough to stomp your
boots in the porch? One would think you was born and brought up in a
barn," fretted Sarah. "If you air goin' to be a rich man some day, you
better l'arn how to behave nice."

"Rich!" exploded her son, finally getting his breath. "Who's goin' to
make me rich, I want to know?"

"Your Uncle Jonah," said Sarah placidly. "If you manage to behave
yourself."

"Uncle Jonah! That consarned old cheat?" bawled Tom, so angry that he
all but choked.

"What is the matter with you, Tom?" demanded his father, laying down
his paper. "What's bitin' of you now, I want to know?"

"That dod-rotted old cheat!" began Tom again, when his mother
interrupted him with:

"Now, Tom Petty! I won't hear you use sech language about your uncle.
What mess have you managed to stir up?"

"I tell you what I have been doin'," vouchsafed the lout, his voice
trembling, his face inflamed. "I've been listenin' to Cap'n Cheatin'
Jonah and Abram Silt chucklin' over the way they've fooled us all--an'
ev'rybody else 'round here. You might have known when this old
sea-devil was so almighty thick with Abe Silt that they'd cook up
something----"

"What do you mean, Tom Petty?"

Sarah's voice rose almost to a shriek. She started for Tom, her green
eyes snapping, her fingers crooked like talons. Her rage was that of
the feline. Tom actually retreated from her threatening front.

"I mean that old scoundrel ain't got scurce a cent to bless himself
with. I heard him say it!" Tom panted.

"Goshamighty!" gasped Orrin.

"What d'ye mean? Them securities you told us about?" demanded Sarah.

"Was phony--make-believe. He just said so. He an' Cap'n Abe hatched it
all up to fool you--so you'd treat him nice, an' treat Pearly nice."

"I can't believe it!" wailed Orrin weakly.

"If you air tryin' to fool us, Tom Petty, with one o' your silly
jokes," declared his mother, "I'll near 'bout kill you!"

"I tell you we've been done--an' done good. That box was sent over from
the bank for a joke. Cap'n Abe engineered it all, you bet! And you give
this old sea-robin your parlor, and fed him up, and made much of him,
and showed him off to Uncle 'Poley and Uncle Perse, an' the rest----"

"You shet your mouth!" commanded Sarah. Her face was as inflamed as his
own. Her sharp features threatened dire work. Her lips, drawn back from
her ragged teeth, were sprayed with foam like those of a maddened wolf.

Pearl, who had been doing the upstairs work, entered the kitchen on
this tableau. With one accord the three Pettys turned upon her. Tom, in
a single stride, reached the girl's side and seized her by the wrist
with a grip that brought a cry of pain from her lips.

"Here's one that knew it all the time, I bet my hat!" growled the son.

"The ungrateful little baggage!" snarled Sarah, coming at Pearl from
the other side.

Orrin had risen, and now leaned over the table, his hairy fists
clenched and resting on it, his eyes glaring under penthouse brows.

Their attack was so sudden--so unexpected after the recent treatment
they had accorded her--that Pearl was made speechless.

She had been about to slip into her coat, throw a hood over her hair,
and venture up to the chapel to see if the committee on decorations
had gathered there. She had not forgotten that Helmford had promised to
help, and the girl hoped to meet him.

"Let me go, Tom Petty!" she demanded, dropping her outdoor garments and
trying to break away from his rough grasp.

Sarah seized the girl's other arm and twisted it spitefully.

"Tell me!" hissed the woman. "Have you knowed this all along, you
little viper, you? Tell me!"

She shook Pearl one way. Tom shook her another. Orrin demanded from
across the table:

"Answer us! Is this here true? Has that old whelp been foolin' us?
Ain't Cap'n Jonah got no fortune?"

"Cap'n Jonah?"

Pearl gasped the name as the door was flung open allowing the old
seaman and, seemingly, a good part of the storm, to enter. It was such
a furious blast that accompanied Cap'n Jonah into the kitchen that he
had to put his back against the door and so force it shut against wind
and snow.

He cleared his eyes with the back of his hand. He beheld the three
Pettys surrounding the girl with an astonishment that turned instantly
to indignation.

"Belay there!" he commanded. "What do you folks mean to do to that
gal? Ain't I told you what I'd do if you didn't stop pickin' on her?
Belay all! What d'you mean?"

Sarah flung around on him, her eyes fairly sparking. "Ah! Here ye be!"
she cried. "You're the rich Jonah Hand, I hear tell? You got a box full
of securities and money, I wouldn't wonder? _And who loaned 'em to
you?_"

Cap'n Jonah was, for the moment, staggered. But he was already leaning
against the door for support and his grim old mahogany face showed no
flicker of emotion as he listened to his niece's tirade.

"We know all about it now, you pauper!" the woman cried. "Comin' here
an' deceivin' your own blood rel'tives. Livin' on our bounty an' makin'
a show out'n us that has give ye bit an' sup."

"Easy! Easy!" murmured Cap'n Jonah, grim-lipped. "Ye ain't lost nothin'
by _me_, Sarah Petty."

"Shet up!" she shrieked at him. "I've been slavin' for you--ev'rybody
knows it. Aunt 'Poley, an' Aunt Perse seen it. Miz Enoch Petty said I
was a fool to do so much for any old tramp of a sailor----"

"Sarah Petty!" Cap'n Jonah's voice thundered through the room and
silenced the woman. He was no longer aghast at the discovery the Pettys
had made. His commanding voice and manner held his three relatives in
abeyance as though he were speaking from his quarterdeck.

"Sarah Petty, I am your father's brother. There was a time, as you well
know, when poor John--and you and your mother--might have been cast on
a lee shore if it hadn't been for me standin' by an' seein' that you
weathered the storm.

"If I had come to you when I landed here from China and demanded that
you take me in and do for me, 'twould ha' been no more than right, as
you know, Sarah Petty. As 'tis, I don't owe you nothin'.

"If you let yourself be fooled into believin' I was a wealthy man, you
done it easy. _I never said I was!_

"I've paid you every cent I agreed to for board and lodgin'--_an'_
wash. My money is jest as good somewhere else, I reckon, as 'tis here,
as long as it lasts. I'd ruther go to strangers and hire my keep from
'em, than stay under _your_ roof, Sarah Petty, on any terms. I'll go
now. I'll find a shelter somewhere and send for my duffel."

He thumped his cane resoundingly on the floor and wheeled toward the
door again. Pearl started toward him, both hands held out appealingly:

"Oh, Cap'n Jonah!"

"Pick up your coat, gal," Cap'n Jonah said firmly. "You come along
o' me, if you will. I'll not leave you here to be hounded by these
Pettys. Whether I've got money or not, I guarantee we can make a home
together, an' 'twill be a peaceful one--that's whatever!

"I ain't on my last legs yet. I'm as good a man as Washy Gallup is,
barrin' when the rheumatiz gets me. I can airn a dollar yet--an' so can
you. Will you come along o' me, Pearly--an' take potluck?"

She was already struggling into her coat. She was laughing and crying
together.

"Oh, Cap'n Jonah! Oh, Cap'n Jonah. You make me happier than I've been
for a long while back. I wouldn't be afraid to start out with you right
now for a voyage around the world!"

"That's the talk!" cried the stout-hearted old mariner. "We'll show
'em, Pearly--you an' me."

He tore the door open. He pulled his southwester more firmly over his
ears. He took Pearl's arm within the crook of his own. The two marched
out of the Petty kitchen and were almost instantly swallowed in the
smother of the storm.

CHAPTER XXVII

A RIFT IN THE CLOUDS

This was no day to wander about out of doors, either for pleasure or
exercise. Nor was Joe Helmford bent on either. Nevertheless he kept
on along the deserted road on which the summer colony houses fronted,
until he had passed the wall and gates of the Tapp estate.

There, as he confronted the waste of the wind-swept bluff, he halted as
'Liphalet Truitt had halted, to peer ahead. Now and then a rift in the
storm revealed to him the ugly, narrow pathway beaten hard by the feet
of the life saving patrol.

As 'Liphalet had caught a glimpse of a snow wraith in the storm, so Joe
Helmford chanced to see a figure stand out clearly upon the brink of
the cliff, and for a single moment.

"What's that fellow doing there?" exclaimed the young man. And then:
"Great heavens! he's gone over."

For in that flash, before the snow curtain shut down again, he had seen
'Liphalet Truitt slide over the brink of the cliff and, clinging to Suz
Montevedo's new line, drop out of sight.

There was no hesitation in Joe Helmford's actions at this juncture.
Putting away those troubles which had obsessed his mind, in an instant
he was alive to the peril of the man--if it were a man--he had seen
go over the edge of the cliff. He started for the spot, charging
recklessly through the storm.

He was familiar with this surfman's path. In this direction lay Salt
Creek and the fish hatchery.

In a few breathless minutes he came stumbling to the spot. He could not
miss it, for he tripped and fell, sprawling across the taut halyard
which was looped over the crowbar. The crowbar was canted forward
toward the cliff's brink and the frozen ground all about it was broken
and loose.

Helmford heard no cry from below; but he saw the rope slipping and
realized that there was a burden on it that was doomed, unless he
interfered, to be dashed into the breakers clawing so madly at the face
of the bluff.

With a shout he leaped upon the slipping hemp with both feet, just as
the crowbar tore loose. That was the moment when 'Liphalet Truitt felt
himself and Miss Sue drop a sudden, nerve-racking foot down the wall of
the precipice.

"She's goin'!" the ex-steward repeated as the broken earth rattled
about them. That an avalanche had started--that the entire face of the
cliff was about to fall into the sea--he had little doubt. He tore his
hands painfully in lifting himself and Miss Sue up again to the edge of
the caving bank.

They would never have made it had not two muscular hands seized
'Liphalet's coat collar and dragged him up to the path. He lost the
rope, scrambling blindly on hands and knees, the woman still clinging
to him. The crowbar broke loose entirely and, with the rope, hurtled
over the brink of the cliff.

With a burst of sound that rose above the clamor of both gale and sea,
the landslip broke away from the brow of the precipice. The men and the
woman almost hung over the ragged break for an instant. Then Helmford
pulled the others farther in and raised Miss Sue gently to her feet.

"Miss Sue? Great heavens!" cried the young fellow. "What does this
mean?"

"By Hannah!" ejaculated the ex-steward, scrambling up, "there goes old
Suz Montevedo's new line and crowbar."

"Oh, 'Liphalet!" cried Miss Sue. "Are we safe?"

"You ain't--not yet," he declared. "Nor you won't be till we get you
home an' 'tween blankets. Who's this? By Hannah, 'tis Mr. Helmford! You
sartainly was a friend in need, Mr. Helmford. If it hadn't been for
your help we'd have gone down along o' the line _an'_ the crowbar."

"How can we thank him?" murmured Miss Sue, still clinging to
'Liphalet's coat sleeve.

"You can postpone that," laughed Helmford, experiencing a great
revulsion of feeling. "We must take her right along to Cap'n Abe's
store, 'Liphalet. That is about the nearest shelter, isn't it?"

"It's the best place, anyhow," said the ex-steward. "We can get a buggy
to get her home in, from there."

"Oh, I can walk, 'Liphalet," said the little woman softly.

But she was thankful for the support of a strong arm on either side as
they started along the path with the gale behind them.

"This experience, Susan, is enough to give you your never git over,"
said the anxious 'Liphalet.

"Why, I'm neither sugar nor salt, 'Liphalet. I have the use of my limbs
yet. And there's a lot to do to-day. There's the chapel to trim yet,
and the Christmas tree."

"Christmas----" He could not say it. The disgusted snort which had
become almost an involuntary ejaculation when he was reminded of the
Yuletide season, was cut off on his lips as Miss Sue continued:

"Were you not going to the chapel to help, Mr. Helmford? I asked Pearly
to go and take charge."

"She was not there an hour ago," the young man replied, his countenance
falling into somber lines again. "In fact, nobody was there. I got the
key from 'Liphalet's porch and unlocked the vestry door and lit the
fire. But nobody came."

"Dear me! I must see about that," Miss Sue said more briskly. "I wonder
where Pearly can be?"

They were glad to get into the partial shelter of I. Tapp's wall and
there take breath. Helmford suggested that Miss Sue stop at Mrs.
Lawford Tapp's to rest, but she would not hear to this.

"I was Cape born and raised, and there's no difference between me and
my forebears save that I have lived a little softer," she declared. "If
it was Betty Gallup you boys had saved from death, would you expect her
to faint on your hands?"

"'The Able Seaman'?" chuckled Helmford. "No, Miss Ambrose. I should not
expect Mrs. Gallup to display many of the ordinary feminine weaknesses."

Nevertheless he and 'Liphalet all but carried Miss Sue between them
as far as Cap'n Abe's store. Here, as the trio approached through the
steadily falling snow, came Milt Baker and Amiel Perdue, bound homeward
for dinner.

"What in tarnation!" ejaculated Milt, almost swallowing his usual cud
of Brown Mule in his amazement. "Life Truitt? And the Doc's sister?
Sufferin' swordfish! There ain't been no elopement, has there?"

Fortunately the noise of the wind and sifting snow drowned most of this
unguarded speech, from Miss Sue's ears at least. But 'Liphalet heard
enough, and if a glance would have drowned the Shell Road humorist that
look with which the ex-steward favored Milt would certainly have sent
him to a watery grave.

The exhausted trio stumbled into Cap'n Abe's store. The usual company
about the stove had scattered. They heard the storekeeper's voice from
the living room in the rear. 'Liphalet led the way to the flap in the
counter, which he lifted to let Miss Sue and Helmford pass through.

As they crossed the entry between the store and the living room they
heard another voice in reply to Cap'n Abe's. The storm-beaten callers
came to the open door to see Cap'n Jonah and Pearl Holden with the old
store-keeper. Pearl had dropped into the rocking-chair usually favored
by Diddimus, the cat, and had a handkerchief to her eyes. But Cap'n
Jonah was on his feet, his southwester pushed back on his head, his
mahogany face alive with emotion, his snuff-box in his hand.

"No, Mr. Silt, I warn't never cut out for actin' a part, I don't guess,
and it sarves me right. I'd never ought to have tried to fool them
Pettys into believin' I had a fortune when I ain't got none."

"Sh!" warned Cap'n Abe, seeing the newly arrived visitors.

Cap'n Jonah wheeled and saw them too. But his countenance did not
change from its stern and determined expression.

"They might's well know it here an' now," he declared. "'Liphalet
does know, anyway. And I reckon young Helmford there thinks he has
reason to be glad I ain't got a fortune. Yes, friends, I been gullin'
all on you. I ain't got a penny but what I'm carryin' right now in my
pocket--there! I don't reckon there's a much poorer man on this here
Cape than Cap'n Jonah Hand."

"Oh, Cap'n Hand!" cried Miss Sue in sympathy. She crossed to his side
and rested a gentle hand upon his coat sleeve.

'Liphalet, from the doorway, saw and appreciated the picture they
made--the sturdy, stern-faced old seaman looking down upon the petite
Miss Sue with beaming eyes, while she gazed up into his face in full
sympathy for his misfortune. 'Liphalet Truitt had been stirred to the
very depths of his being during the past two hours; but the heart-pang
that smote him now was more severe than anything he had heretofore
suffered.

Nobody noticed him as he retired from the living room and closed the
door. He passed out of Cap'n Abe's side door and went home. Once there
he stoked his dying fire, changed into dry garments, and made himself
a huge bowl of "composition tea"--a never-failing Cardhaven remedy in
case of chill.

But the chill at 'Liphalet Truitt's heart was not so easily cured.

* * * * *

Cap'n Abe's and Miss Sue's attention for the moment was fully given to
Cap'n Jonah. But Helmford approached Pearl Holden's side. He stooped
and drew her hands from before her face and lifted her up by the wrists
to stand before him.

"Is--is this true, Pearly?" he asked. "Is it really _so_? Hasn't Cap'n
Jonah a fortune?"

"He--he says he hasn't!" she sobbed.

"And are you disappointed? I am sorry, Pearl."

"What you sorry for?" she demanded, raising dewy eyes to his. "Cap'n
Jonah is going to be all right. I can work for him if he gets laid up
by the rheumatism--and I'd be glad to. He's been awfully kind to me."

"But you will be no heiress," Helmford said, smiling.

"'Heiress'?" repeated Pearl. "What do you mean, Mr. Helmford? My! do
you s'pose I thought two minutes about Cap'n Jonah's fortune?"

"But I have been thinking about it," the young man said. "And--forgive
me for saying it--I am glad you are not going to be rich, Pearly."

She was still looking at him. They had forgotten the others in the
room. Now that the great moment had arrived Pearl Holden showed no
false modesty.

"Why don't you want me to be rich?" she asked him. "Though goodness
knows, I never expect to be!"

"Because _I_ am poor. And _I_ never expect to be rich," he said, his
voice shaking with suppressed feeling. "As you are not an heiress,
Pearly, I can tell you something that I have wanted to tell you for a
long while and have not dared. It is----"

"Say!" exclaimed the harsh voice of Betty Gallup from the kitchen door.
"Shall I dish up the chowder for all hands, Cap'n Abe? It's sp'ilin' to
be et."

"Sure-_ly_!" replied the hospitable storekeeper. "This ain't no time to
be starvin' ourselves. Bring it in, Betty. An' afterwards you git two
cabins ready upstairs for guests. Cap'n Jonah and Pearly can stay here
just as well's not till they git located to suit 'em.

"Hi-mighty!" he added, rubbing his hands together, his benignant old
face glowing with kindliness. "I guess you'll find, Cap'n Jonah, that
you've got plenty friends along the Shell Road, if the Pettys _have_
turned sour. But Orrin an' Sarah allus was near 'bout like vinegar,
when all's said an' done."

CHAPTER XXVIII

ALL ABOUT A BAD SMELL

The three Pettys were not happy. Somehow Cap'n Jonah's defiance and
Pearl's joyful determination to put herself under the old mariner's
protection, quite took the taste out of any pleasure Sarah Petty might
have felt in seeing the two "paupers" start out into the storm.

Orrin sank gloomily into his chair and openly groaned. The sand was
cut out from under him, and no mistake! The melting of Cap'n Jonah's
fortune was a catastrophe of overwhelming proportions. Orrin felt that
he would never get over it.

It was the son who first found voice and energy to put his thoughts
into words.

"There!" he croaked. "_Now_ you've done it, an' I hope you're
satisfied."

"What's the matter with you, Tom Petty?" demanded his mother,
apprehending the young fellow's complaint before it was uttered.

"You've driv' Pearly away. She ain't got no business going off with
that old sea-devil!" cried Tom.

"Wal, what d'ye want her here for?" queried Sarah. "She ain't wuth her
salt no more. 'Twixt Uncle Jonah and that Helmford feller, they've nigh
'bout ruined her for work."

"_Work?_" repeated Tom, with scorn. "That's all you ever think of--you
slave driver! I didn't want Pearl driv' out."

"Why not? What's she to _you_--when she ain't goin' to have no money?"

"She's my girl!" cried Tom hotly. "Or she would ha' been if it wasn't
for that consarned Helmford. And it's your fault he ever come here and
made trouble 'tween us."

"Why, you talk foolish!" declared Sarah.

"Is that so?" snarled the lout. "Well, I can tell you right now: If
Pearly's goin' to be turned out o' house an' home, so'm I. I'll go with
her."

This ridiculous statement, however, did not make Sarah Petty smile.
After all, the woman's very soul was bound up in Tom. He could get his
way with her by such threats at any time. And she was broken in spirit
now.

"You--you can't get her to come back," she stammered.

"I can try," declared Tom. "And I'm goin' to. But you've got to promise
to be good to her. If I marry Pearl I ain't goin' to let her be your
slave no more."

"You ain't married her yet," said Sarah pursing her lips tightly.

"An' there's another thing," went on Tom, using the gaff without
mercy. "How about if Uncle Jonah turns on you with that old note of
gran'-pop's? He ain't forgot it. You can see that by what he just said
to you. He was throwin' it up to you. An' now it's proved he ain't got
a fortune, he'll try seeing what he can get out o' you."

"You hesh up," commanded Sarah Petty, suddenly recovering her poise.
Orrin might be utterly helpless; but she had begun to think again.
Tom's point was well taken. She could only judge other people by her
own mind. That was the great lack in her character, after all. She
measured every other person by her own warped standard.

It was possibly within Uncle Jonah's power to make the Pettys a great
deal of trouble. Even if the old note for two thousand dollars was
outlawed, if the old captain pressed the matter the fact would be made
public that Sarah Petty had not settled her father's just debts when
she had administered his estate.

The Petty family--Uncles 'Poley, Perse, Solon and Enoch, and their
wives and connections--would hear all about it. Sarah was a social
climber. She had desired to use the prestige of Cap'n Jonah's supposed
fortune as a ladder on which to mount to the higher branches of the
family tree.

There was nothing criminal in Sarah being deceived by the old sea
captain regarding his financial affairs. That was not her fault. But
if the story got abroad that she, after all, owed Cap'n Jonah all the
attention she had given him--and much more--the Harwich Pettys would
have something to say about it!

Sarah Petty could better bear being laughed at for being fooled by
Cap'n Jonah, than be exposed as having cheated the old man out of
two thousand dollars. Her calmer thought compassed this fact almost
immediately. Shrewdly she readjusted her plans for the future.

"Tom Petty," she said briskly, "you go after that gal. You bring
Pearl back here. She ain't got no right to leave us this-a-way in any
case, for we're her guardeens, made so by the 'thority of the town
_se_lectmen till she's eighteen."

"You want I should spoil ev'rything," her son complained. "If I try to
order her back----"

"I didn't say so, did I?" snapped his mother. "We've got a hold on her
just the same. But that's our last resort. You find Pearl an' tell her
to come back. You be nice to her. If you want to marry the girl your
father and I ain't got no objections. She's a fav'rite of Uncle Jonah
Hand. A blind man can see that. And he won't do nothin' that'll hurt
her or her'n. D'ye see? If Pearl an' you marry, he won't press no old
note against this estate that's a-comin' to you some day. That is sure."

"I dunno can I git her back," grumbled Tom, buttoning his coat again.
"But I'll find out where she's goin' and what she's goin' to do."

"You can look in at Abe Silt's store," said his mother, sharply. "If
that old tramp's such good friends with Silt, that's where he an'
Pearl's gone."

Tom thought this very likely, and he made the store his destination.
It seemed as though the storm was abating; but Tom Petty was so deeply
engaged in thought that he paid slight attention to the weather.

The lout had come to a juncture where he could no longer shift the
burden of decision to other shoulders, or postpone settlement of this
question until a future time. The shock of Pearl deliberately leaving
the house with Cap'n Jonah had roused him to at least one fact.

He cared a great deal for the girl. His was an utterly selfish love;
but such as it was, it was the very best imitation of affection that
Tom Petty would probably ever experience.

To his mind Joe Helmford was but a passing fancy of Pearl's. Of course,
in the end, he, Tom, would get her. It was foreordained. They had lived
in such close companionship for so many years that he could imagine no
change. That was why her actual departure had so shocked him.

Now he was going after her. He never considered that she might not
return home with him. Why, any other outcome of his attempt he did not
contemplate for a moment! He had bullied Pearl for so long that he
expected to keep on doing so indefinitely. Pearl was "easy." That was
the way Tom Petty expressed it to himself.

He did not enter Cap'n Abe's store, but went around the house to the
kitchen door, expecting to find Betty Gallup there and learn from her
how the land lay. It was not Mrs. Gallup, however, who came to the door
in answer to his knuckles on the panel.

"Tom Petty!"

"Hi, Pearly!" the youth greeted her, calling up a grin. "Marm wants you
should come home."

"I'm never going back to your house again, Tom Petty, only to get my
things."

"Now, don't say that, Pearly," the young fellow went on, very mildly
for him. "You don't want to be mean. Marm never said for you to go----"

"I came away with Cap'n Jonah on my own hook," she agreed. "And I'm not
going back."

"Aw, yes you will," Tom repeated. "You know how much I like you,
Pearly. I couldn't get along without you--no two ways about it! You
got to stop this foolishness and come home. That old feller ain't got
nothin'. He can't look out for himself, let alone do anything for you.
And Helmford wouldn't look at you, you know well enough, if he didn't
think you was goin' to be rich. Come on home, now."

"I won't!"

He thought she was about to close the door. Tom Petty had never learned
patience, and his appearance of gentleness was only a veneer. His right
hand shot out and he caught the girl's slim wrist. He jerked her out
upon the step.

"You come home along o' me and stop your foolishness," he growled. "Do
you hear me, Pearly?"

She struggled to escape. With her free hand she struck him across his
inflamed and ugly face. She cried out as he forced her down the steps
into the beating storm.

"Stop! Stop, Tom Petty! I won't go home with you!" she cried.

Around the corner of the kitchen ell charged Joe Helmford--the very
person Pearl most desired to see.

"Let her alone!" commanded the man fiercely.

Tom turned on him, snarling. He was so enraged that he forgot for the
moment to be afraid. Helmford stripped off his beclouded spectacles and
handed them to Pearl. He unbelted and dropped his Mackinaw at his feet.

"Look out for yourself, Tom Petty!" he said threateningly. "I am going
to give you what you have been suffering for ever since you got too big
for your mother to spank."

They were not unevenly matched as to height and weight. Tom's muscles
were fully as well developed, and he was as supple as his antagonist.
In a rough and tumble fight he might even have been Helmford's superior.

But the latter would not allow the lout to get a wrestler's hold upon
him. As Tom charged, Helmford stepped nimbly aside and drove his fist
into Tom's face. Had the latter been wise he would have let that blow
begin and finish the battle. But such courage as the lout owned was
roused by the smart of the blow.

His face was a mask of blood as he rushed for Helmford a second time.
His antagonist met this onslaught fairly. His hard and capable fists
drove in with all the weight of his shoulders behind them, while Tom
pawed the air blindly with clutching hands.

Tom could not reach his opponent at all; but it was several moments
and he was a desperately bruised young man, before this truth came
fully home to him. His own arms flung like flails, but to no purpose.
Helmford reached his bruised face and battered it with such lusty blows
that Tom thought his antagonist must have more than the usual number of
fists.

Petty staggered; he slipped; he fell to his knees; he got up again.
While all the time the blows rained upon him and he was blinded. He
began to bleat like a calf in the grip of the butcher. He could not
escape.

Finally arrived the last and merciful blow--Helmford's right to the
point of the jaw. Tom was felled and lay there in the snow, for the
moment quite unable to realize where he was or what had happened to him.

When he actually came to his senses Joe Helmford had taken Pearl away.
They had been ready, as it was, to accompany Miss Sue to the chapel to
trim the Christmas tree. But the storekeeper, Cap'n Jonah, and Betty
Gallup, were grouped about the fallen lout, and were staring at him.

"I tell ye what 'tis," the able seaman said, in her jerky and emphatic
way, "once in a while one o' these city fellers does somethin' that ye
hafter admire 'em for. Who'd ha' thought Mr. Helmford, whose business
'tis, _he_ says, to teach fishes to hatch their aigs, had so much in
him? Why, this Tom Petty's been sufferin' for this beatin' for years,
an' there ain't been a loafer around this store with public sperit
enough to do it."

Nevertheless it was Betty Gallup who helped the dazed youth to his
feet and assisted him into the house and made him lie down upon Cap'n
Abe's lounge in the living room. She brought warm water and laved his
bruised face. And she brought vinegar and brown paper and put a patch
on his inflamed eye.

"Now you lay up here as long as you feel like, Tom Petty," Mrs. Gallup
said, as she cleared the table of the dinner dishes. "Mischief's done
now, and you can't better it. Folks is bound to know you got licked,
for your hull face advertises the fac'."

The storm kept many customers from interrupting Cap'n Abe, although the
wind was moderating. He sat with Cap'n Jonah in the living room and
discussed the latter's financial affairs more earnestly than heretofore.

"You say this here money you got in your wallet is all you got in the
world, Cap'n Hand?"

"Whatever! Nor no more to be had," said Cap'n Jonah. "I got some ile
sheers--but, pshaw! They ain't nothin'."

"What air them sheers?" demanded Cap'n Abe, suddenly. "Better take
stock of ev'rythin', as the feller said when he listed the litter of
kittens in the sheriff's sale. I was readin' in the _Globe_ paper only
this mornin'----"

He got up and brought the Boston paper from the rack on the wall.
Unfolding it he found the financial page and pointed a horny forefinger
to the heading of an article there printed.

"What's this here?" Cap'n Abe asked. "Where's my readin' specs? Never
can find 'em when they air wanted."

"On your forehead like they always be," said Cap'n Jonah, taking the
paper after having adjusted his own eyeglasses. "'Hem! Whatever! What
d'you make of this, Mr. Silt? Why, them's the very sheers! The Little
Sandy Oil and Coal Company."

"Lemme see!" said Cap'n Abe eagerly, having twitched his silver-bowed
spectacles astride his nose. "D'you mean to say, Cap'n Hand, that you
got some o' them Little Sandy sheers?"

"Abe Silt!" ejaculated Cap'n Jonah, almost breathless. "I got two
thousand of 'em! Right here in my pocket! D'you s'pose they can be the
same?"

"'Little Sandy Oil and Coal Company,'" read Cap'n Abe, slowly. "'Lay
dormant many years.' 'Outskirts of the thriving city of Decatur.' My
soul, Cap'n Hand!"

"Why," said the other, "they told me two year ago that all they ever
got out o' them wells they drove, was a bad smell."

"Hi-mighty!" shouted Cap'n Abe, slapping his knee in high delight.
"That's exactly what they did git! Nateral gas! D'you know what that
is, Cap'n Hand? Why, it means they air piping that 'nasty smell' you
speak of into the city of Decatur, an' sellin' it to light _an'_ heat
houses. What d'ye know 'bout that?"

"Whatever!" gasped Cap'n Jonah.

"How many of them sheers you got?" demanded the excited storekeeper.

Cap'n Jonah dragged from the breast pocket of his pilot coat a long
envelope, much stained and worn. From this he produced the ornate
certificate of the Little Sandy Oil and Coal Company, which stated upon
its face that he was the owner of two thousand shares in the capital
stock of the concern. A third pair of eyes, one very much "bunged up"
at present, stared at the certificate. Tom Petty had seen that document
before!

"Two thousand!" murmured Cap't Abe. "Hi-mighty! Look here! This paper
says the sheers have gone to fifteen dollars already. By the great jib
boom, Cap'n Hand! That there document in your hand is worth thirty
thousand dollars!"

Cap'n Jonah stared at the storekeeper in utter bewilderment at first.
He repeated slowly: "Thirty thousand dollars? Whatever!"

"There's your fortune, Cap'n Hand!" cried the storekeeper in vast
delight. "An' a fortune that's wuth while. You needn't worry about the
Pettys no more. Nor about Pearly----"

"Belay all!" gasped Cap'n Jonah, hoarsely, and laying a restraining
hand on the storekeeper's knee. "Don't say a word to nobody."

"Huh?"

"Not a word," repeated Cap'n Jonah, sternly. "I don't want folks to
know about _this_ fortune. Above all, don't let that fish trainer,
Helmford, hear a word about it. For if he does, like as not he'll slip
his moorings again and run out to sea. He's got a fool conviction,
like 'Liphalet Truitt, that if a woman's got a little tad of money, he
mustn't marry her."

He turned quickly to cast a suspicious glance at Tom Petty. The
battered youth had fallen back on the pillow and his eyes were closed.
To tell the truth, Tom was pretty near all in!

CHAPTER XXIX

CHRISTMAS EVE AT CAP'N ABE'S

The gale abated toward evening. The sky was clearing when 'Liphalet
Truitt came out of his door and started down the Shell Road toward the
store.

It was more habit than anything else that took him to Cap'n Abe's.
The cloud that had for these past few weeks overshadowed the lonely
bachelor who dwelt beside the Mariner's Chapel, rested more heavily
than ever upon his mind and heart this Christmas Eve.

His perilous adventure with Miss Sue that afternoon had racked his soul
more than it had his body. As they had clung together there in the
storm on the face of the precipice, he felt that so they should cling
together against all the buffetings of life.

But fate cruelly separated them. Sue's fortune kept them apart. He
shrank from having the neighbors point him out as a money-seeker--a man
who had married a woman for her fortune. And in addition, there was
Cap'n Jonah Hand--a much more masterful man than the ex-steward--who
had seemed to take Miss Sue by storm. The picture he had last seen in
Cap'n Abe's living room, when the doctor's sister had run to sympathize
with the unmasked captain, was etched upon 'Liphalet's memory so deeply
that he believed he could never forget it.

Yet he felt no hatred in his heart for Miss Sue. He absolved her now of
any blame for his unhappiness. Life Truitt was coming to his senses!

Sue Ambrose was worthy of the love of the best man who ever lived!
Forty thousand dollars was as nothing beside her intrinsic value
as a woman and a companion for a lonely man. 'Liphalet wished with
all his heart--as he had wished a thousand times before--that Sue's
anti-suffragist relative had left her money elsewhere. Then no
man--Cap'n Jonah, or anybody else--would have beaten him to the goal
that had been so long set before him.

He had enough money for them both--enough and to spare. It troubled him
now, as it had before, that Sue should have accepted the forty thousand
dollars as a bribe not to exercise her right of franchise.

To tell the truth 'Liphalet did not think well of woman suffrage. He
was satisfied that Miss Sue did not appear to hold "votes for women" in
high regard. But it would have delighted him had Miss Sue walked into
the polling place on election day and voted, thus throwing her legacy
away.

So he tramped down the Shell Road in a gloomy frame of mind indeed on
this Christmas Eve; and upon entering into the warmth and light and
bustle of Cap'n Abe's store was as much in the doldrums as ever.

The greetings showered upon him from those present, men and women
alike, were heartier than usual. Why! it seemed just as though they
were waiting for 'Liphalet's appearance. "Just for what they hope to
get out of you," the devil of distrust again whispered in his ear.

But for some reason this wicked voice was not so strong as before.
'Liphalet had begun to doubt. Since his adventure with Miss Sue on the
cliff he had lost much of that pessimism that had for so long held sway
in his mind.

The cheerful smiles, the hearty greetings one to another as the
neighbors entered, began to impress more deeply the apostate Santa
Claus. Retiring to an upturned nail keg behind the stove, 'Liphalet
tried again to wrap himself in gloom. He felt meaner than he had ever
felt before in all his life.

Here was more than half the congregation of the Mariner's Chapel
gathered in the Shell Road store. Every one had a pleasant word
or smile for him. They sought the ex-steward out to show their
friendliness. They had been looking to him for generous assistance
in the yearly entertainment now but twenty-four hours off, and he had
determined to disappoint and to flout them.

The apostate Santa Claus began to feel remorse and misgiving, such
as had never been his portion before. He felt he had never done as
mean a thing in all his career as he was doing now. Aside from the
disappointment of the grown members of the congregation, how would
the children feel? 'Liphalet Truitt, in padded and cottonwool trimmed
garments, was always a delight to the children at the Christmas tree
celebration. His unfailing pack and his appropriate words for each
child were looked forward to for months.

And he purposed to disappoint them all--his adult friends and
neighbors, as well as the children; Cap'n Abe himself; Cap'n Joab;
Washy Gallup; Milt and Amiel, the local buffoons; even Cap'n Jonah Hand
and Mr. Helmford. They were all here and smiling at a man who began to
feel himself to be the very meanest person upon the entire reach of
Cape Cod.

Suddenly from Cap'n Abe's living room behind the store sounded the
opening bars of the "Fisher's Hornpipe" played on a fiddle and played
better than 'Liphalet had ever heard it rendered before. He sat up
straighter, his ears pricked, and his eyes began to glisten.

A silence had fallen upon the thronged store. 'Liphalet did not notice
now the smiling and significant glances cast in his direction. He was
attending with all his music-loving soul to the medley of old-time
sea-ditties that the master violinist was playing.

"By Hannah! who's that fiddling?" gasped 'Liphalet, as the music ceased.

A moment's pause. Then rose the air of "Black-Eyed Susan" played by
what the deeply moved ex-steward would have called a "brass band."

The orchestral accompaniment died to a murmur and a voice took up the
old song--a woman's voice so sweet, so compelling, that it tugged at
'Liphalet Truitt's heartstrings. When the song ceased the apostate
Santa Claus found himself on his feet with his hat in his hand and
unwonted moisture in his eyes.

The grizzled old storekeeper appeared at the door. "Come in here,
'Liphalet," he said, lifting the flap of the counter and beckoning to
the entranced man. "Got somethin' to show ye."

'Liphalet followed him unsteadily. The thrilling notes of the singer's
voice still rang in his ears. He did not see that the whole storeful
of his neighbors and friends were crowding, giggling and whispering,
behind him into Cap'n Abe's sitting room.

The homely furnishings of the place, where the table was always set
for the expected guest, was sufficiently illuminated by a big hanging
lamp. What held 'Liphalet's attention was a handsome cabinet-sized
talking machine, with its cover raised, which stood directly under the
empty birdcage hanging in the farther window.

"By Hannah!" murmured the bemused 'Liphalet, "I wondered who Perry
Baker was a-takin' that machine to."

"You don't know now," said Cap'n Abe dryly.

He waited for his audience to crowd into the room behind the puzzled
'Liphalet. The storekeeper never allowed an opportunity to slip for an
impressive oratorical flight.

"Hum!" said Cap'n Abe. "We're gathered here to-night, as ye might say,
for one o' the pleasantest occasions that it's ever been my privilege
to take part in. It ain't often in this rough an' ready life of
our'n, friends, that we are able to show fittingly our appreciation
of a neighbor's character. And it ain't often, either, that we find a
neighbor whose character is worthy of such appreciation as that which
we honor ourselves by honoring to-night."

The storekeeper was getting in pretty deep, as he would have himself
admitted; but he struggled on bravely, and everybody save the
bewildered 'Liphalet understood.

"We've got a man in our midst," went on Cap'n Abe, "who's proved
himself for some years a brother and a friend to every man, woman and
child up and down this Shell Road. There ain't a person in this here
room to whom he ain't done some lastin' favor, and in some cases, many
on 'em.

"As this season of the year comes around--the most fittin' for us to
show love and gratitude because of Him who gave so much for us," added
Cap'n Abe reverently,--"it was suggested--I reckon it was a spontaneous
feelin' in all our hearts--that we give this man who had given of his
time and money and love to us, somethin' that should speak to him of
our appreciation--somethin' that should tell him, whenever he would, in
sorrow or in joy, how much we love him for what he is and for what he
has been to us."

The old storekeeper's voice was husky. He cleared it with a vociferous
"Hum!" but could not go on. Therefore he stepped closer to the
talking machine. There was already a disc in place, and touching the
release-spring, this began to revolve.

To the mellow accompaniment of an organ a male chorus began to croon,
"Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot?" The women were wiping their eyes
openly; the men looked straight ahead with set visages, as they did in
church when the minister told a moving incident.

"'Liphalet Truitt," rose the trumpet call of the storekeeper's voice
above the melody of the old song, "your neighbors and well-wishers
ask me to present this here machine to you as a mark of their esteem
and love, as the feller said. And believe _me_," concluded Cap'n Abe,
whacking the amazed recipient heartily on his shoulder, "I ain't been
so willin' to do a job since Hector was a pup--an' Hector's a big dog
now!"

There rose a general--and welcome--laugh at Cap'n Abe's little joke.
But there was no responsive smile upon 'Liphalet's visage. He stood
there as amazed and stunned an individual as there was on all of
storm-swept Cape Cod that night.

"Hi-mighty!" exclaimed Cap'n Abe at last, "don't you like it?"

"_Like it!_"

The quotation was a vocal explosion. With it there overflowed from
'Liphalet's eyes the unbidden tears. The ice was broken in his soul,
and the apostate Santa Claus stood confessed before his neighbors.

"I ain't able to tell ye," he said humbly, "how what you all have done
cuts me right down to the Plimsoll mark. I don't know but a little dip
to starbo'd or to larbo'd will founder me for fair. I got it into my
head that I--I was purty much alone in the world. I got a bitter taste
against humanity in my mouth----"

"That's your liver, 'Liphalet, like I told you," put in Doctor Ambrose,
who had come in.

"I made up my mind Christmas, and Christmas doin's, was all
foolishness," pursued 'Liphalet. "I just got a grouch on the whole
business. I said I wouldn't play Santa Claus for the young'uns no more,
or have anything to do with such didoes.

"But I got to confess, brothers and sisters, that I just _had_ to go to
town same's usual and buy a bag full of toys an' sech and a new Santa
Claus suit. They're hid away in my garret!

"An'--an' here you folks have gone to work and bought me this beautiful
music box----By Hannah! I don't desarve it!" cried the ex-steward
vigorously. "An' I don't desarve to be Santa Claus this year nor to
give out the presents as I used to. I--I ain't been in the Christmas
sperit----"

"Christmas spirit your granny!" burst out Doctor Ambrose again, amidst
a general use of pocket handkerchiefs by the feminine part of the
audience. "You let me put you through a course of sprouts, and I'll
make you the most spirited Santa Claus that ever came down a cardboard
chimney!"

CHAPTER XXX

"CHRISTMAS GIFT"

Eliphalet Truitt stumbled out of the Shell Road store a little later
with fingers tingling from the pressure of many friendly hands and with
tear-blinded eyes. Perhaps this latter fact was what caused him to all
but run into a much smaller craft on the wind-swept road. The clouds
were broken overhead and the moon, peering through, shed sufficient
light for the startled ex-steward to identify his vis-à-vis.

"Sue? By Hannah! I reckoned you'd be 'twixt your blankets," he declared.

"Oh, 'Liphalet!" she cried. "Pearly and I have been giving the last
touches to the Christmas tree. And Pearly----Why! where is she?"

Miss Sue had not seen her companion dart ahead to join Helmford, who
had likewise come down the store steps.

"Pearly's going to live with me, 'Liphalet--for a while at least. Cap'n
Jonah will stay with Cap'n Abe here at the store. But Pearly will need
somebody to help with her sewing--you know----"

She halted with a blush that 'Liphalet did not see. Then, eagerly: "I
suppose Cap'n Abe presented the music box to you, 'Liphalet? I did not
mean to miss that. But I had to rouse out Washy Gallup and start him
over to old Suz Montevedo's for the night. The Ladies' Aid will find
watchers for poor Suz, turn about, until he is better."

"By Hannah!" breathed the ex-steward looking hungrily into her face.
"You knowed about that music box the folks was getting me all the time,
didn't you, Susan?"

"Oh, yes. And I thought you would surely suspect something that day in
front of the post-office when you saw it in Perry Baker's wagon."

Her laugh, so low and mellow, thrilled him. Somehow he caught both of
her fluttering hands and she let them lie in his grasp.

"Susan!" he said.

"Yes, 'Liphalet," and her sweet eyes were suddenly raised boldly to his
own.

"If you didn't have all that money----"

"What money do you mean, 'Liphalet?" she asked, puzzled.

"That fortune your A'nt Amy left you."

"I--I haven't much of it left, you know, 'Liphalet. Only 'bout ninety
dollars."

"_What?_" almost shouted the man. "Ninety dollars?"

"Yes. You know, Aunt Amy left me a little over four hundred dollars.
I--I bought a dress, that I--I laid away, with part of it." The blush
was again hidden in the uncertain light of an uncertain moon. That
silver gray poplin, laid away in lavender, was the tenderest secret in
all Sue Ambrose's life.

"Folks reported around," she hastened to add, "that the legacy was a
lot more. You know how stories grow in Cardhaven."

"Grow! From four hundred to forty thousand? I should say! Why, Susan,
thinking you had all that money----"

"Only four hundred dollars, 'Liphalet."

"_Forty thousand!_ By Hannah! Has gossip cheated me out of this here
blessin' for goin' on ten year?"

He held her in his arms right in the public road. He knew by the very
yielding of her body to his own what her answer was. With the clearing
of the tempest on this Christmas Eve had come the clearing up of all
mistakes and misapprehensions in their lives.

A raucous "Ahem!" apprised them of the presence of somebody besides
Pearl and Helmford behind them. "Well, I vum!" ejaculated the voice of
Doctor Ambrose. "'Twan't your liver after all, 'Liphalet Truitt, that
was out of kilter. I see now 'twas your heart!"

The dying gale chased tatters of cloud across the face of the moon.
Only now and then was the road lighted sufficiently for Helmford and
Pearl to see clearly the trio walking on ahead of them toward the
Ambrose cottage. Helmford and Pearl walked close together and slowly.
They were in that ecstatic state where the touch of a hand--even the
caress of their garments against each other--thrilled them. Pearl had
never dreamed, even under the inspiration of the tales in the _Ladies'
Home Provider_, that love was as sweet as this!

"This has been one blessed--exciting--_astounding_ day, Pearly,"
Helmford said. "How much has happened in a few hours! This morning I
thought----"

"Yes?" she asked, as he hesitated, and giving a happy little skip as
she clung to his arm. "What did you think?"

"I thought you were as far away from me as that moon up there."

"My, how foolish of you!" breathed Pearl, yet delighted. "And just
because poor Uncle Jonah would give me some of his fortune."

"All of it, he said," Helmford told her grimly. "A hundred thousand
dollars. That is a great sum, Pearl."

"Is it?" she asked innocently. "It's not so much _when it's only in
your mind_."

"And I'm glad you haven't got it--even in your mind, Pearly."

"Why, say!" cried the girl, "I never thought about having money. Only a
little. If Cap'n Jonah really had a fortune to give me I wouldn't know
what to do with it. Look at Miss Sue. What does she do with all the
money folks say she's got? She can only eat so much, and drink so much,
and sleep in one bed at a time. Of course, she can wear better clothes
than I can. But, Joe," she added roguishly and peered up into his face
with sparkling eyes, "if you teach _lots_ of fishes to hatch eggs, the
Government will raise your pay, and then _you_ can buy all the dresses
I need or want, I am sure!"

The moon drew a heavier, fleecier cloud across her face just then and
hid a second couple who were locked in each other's arms on the old
Shell Road.

* * * * *

In the brilliant sunshine of that Christmas morning Cap'n Jonah marched
up the Petty lane again. And he thought as he advanced toward the house
of his initial approach to the Petty domicile on the October afternoon
which now seemed so long past--when he had found Pearl Holden taking
down the clothes with the Petty family absent at the Harwich cattle
show.

"Whatever!" muttered the master mariner. "Things have changed since
then, for a fac'! Why! they've changed ha'f a dozen times around--near
'bout. I ain't ne'er taken a v'y'ge yet--not even that one when I was
purty nigh made into a goulash by cannibals--that's been any more
excitin' than this here.

"But," concluded the captain with vast satisfaction, "I have made
harbor at last and dropped anchor in a safe roadstead, I do allow."

Although he expected no pleasant interview with his relatives, he
tramped cheerfully to the door. Nothing could greatly disturb a man who
was worth thirty thousand dollars, and could get the cash any day he
wanted to go to the bank and deliver up the certificate of stock of the
Little Sandy Oil and Coal Company which he had carried around so long,
as a keepsake more than anything else.

For on the previous afternoon Cap'n Abe had insisted on calling up his
friend at the Paulmouth National Bank by telephone, and this individual
had confirmed the story of the sudden and phenomenal rise in value of
the Little Sandy Oil and Coal Company shares. So after all, Cap'n Jonah
was comfortably wealthy and need never worry about the "bite and sup"
that Sarah Petty had so begrudged him.

Sarah was in no aggressive mood when Cap'n Jonah came to the door on
this Christmas morning. The sorely battered Tom had returned on the
previous afternoon to relate the wonderful story of Cap'n Jonah's real
fortune. It was more astonishing--indeed, it was a greater shock--to
the Pettys than all that had gone before.

Without a doubt now--it was a tangible fact--Cap'n Jonah possessed the
equivalent of thirty thousand dollars. It was no mythical fortune such
as Miss Sue's had been. Gossip could not increase or diminish it in
the Pettys' ears. It was an incontrovertible fact--and they had cut
themselves off from any share of it, whether Cap'n Jonah lived or died!

"I ain't going to bother you for long, Niece Sarah," said the old man
sternly as he entered. "I propose to pack my chist, and Enos Cartright
will come along by an' by with his old Mehitabel, and cart it down to
Mr. Silt's. Pearly is coming to pack her things, too, and Enos will
take them along to Doc Ambrose's, where Pearly will stay till she an'
Mr. Helmford git married."

"Oh, Uncle Jonah!" murmured Sarah. "I'm sorry you got mad and air
detarmined to leave us----"

"That'll do for you, my gal!" exclaimed the old captain, speaking with
his sternest quarterdeck manner. "You had your chance and you flung it
away. Don't you, nor your'n, never expect favor of me again, for you
won't get it."

The blow silenced Orrin and the lout. But Sarah could not give up all.
There was too much at stake. If all chance of getting a share of Cap'n
Jonah's fortune was gone, there was still an attempt to be made to save
something from the wreck of their hopes.

"Dear Uncle Jonah," Sarah cried, wiping crocodile tears from her
narrow eyes, "do not leave us in an angry sperit. I can never forgit
your kindness to father and mother when I was a gal. We should have
been homeless had it not been for you. And even now you can make us
all--Orrin, an' Tom, an' me--all but penniless if you air so minded."

"What do you mean, gal?" demanded Cap'n Jonah, eyeing her in amazement.

"Why--er--you know that note poor father gave you years ago--that
note for two thousand dollars. Of course, it's a long time ago it
happened----"

"Gal," Cap'n Jonah said quietly, drawing out his snuff box and making
use of it in his usual way, "do you think I'd hold my kith an'
kin--specially my own brother--to sech a hard-and-fast arrangement?
Your father needed that money bad; and at that time I didn't need it.
I sent it to him freely--glad I was to do it. When he sent me his note
for two thousand dollars I tore it up and throwed it into the galley
fire. I tell you what, I hope there isn't nothin' _petty_ about Jonah
Hand!"

The Mariner's Chapel was alight that evening and filled with the Shell
Road folk and their friends from near and far. Only one family in
the neighborhood was not represented. The Petty house was dark, and
'Liphalet, as the jolly representative of Santa Claus, had no gift in
his sack marked for any of the sadly disappointed trio who had treated
Cap'n Jonah so despitefully.

But for everybody else the Shell Road Santa Claus found something in
that wonderful sack of his, or on the tree which occupied the site of
the pulpit. Even "the last Tapp" was not forgotten, and that round-eyed
and chubby baby gripped in his tiny fist a wonderful rattle which his
smiling mother had much to do to keep out of his mouth.

Never had 'Liphalet been jollier, been so ready with quip and jest as
he passed through the company, as on this particular occasion. For
wherever he went with his pack of gifts he could turn his gaze upon
the quiet, yet gay and smiling, countenance of Miss Sue. She paid him
back in his own coin when he looked at her--in the coinage of happy
smiles--so that 'Liphalet thrilled to the very marrow of his being.

Nor were 'Liphalet and Miss Sue the only happy couple in the Mariner's
Chapel on this blessed Christmas night. The vestry as well as the
audience room had been trimmed with greens and holly; and in the
vestry the young folks gathered in groups when the refreshments had
been served.

Cap'n Jonah and Cap'n Abe, each with a plate of ice-cream and a
generous slice of cake on his broad knee, sat together on the stairs
like two school boys and watched the young folk below with appreciative
glances. One particular couple they eyed with deep interest. Helmford
was leading the curious Pearl to a spot directly under the main
chandelier of the vestry, from which dangled some mystery wrapped in
muslin.

"You trimmed this part of the vestry, Joe," they heard Pearl say. "What
_is_ it?"

Helmford reached up and whipped the covering from his bough of
mistletoe. He held her close under it and boldly took toll from her
ready lips. The others shouted their approval and ran toward them. The
old custom of the mistletoe was due to be honored by more than one
couple that evening. Nor did 'Liphalet fail to lead Miss Sue to the
spot and there kiss the doctor's blushing sister before them all.

"Tell ye what 'tis," shrilled Washy Gallup. "Looks as though the
Mariner's Chapel could purt' nigh afford to support a reg'lar minister.
There's at least two marriages in the offing."

Cap'n Abe nudged Cap'n Jonah heartily in the ribs.

"I guess ye needn't be so scare't," he whispered hoarsely, "of telling
Pearly an' that Helmford 'bout your fortune, Cap'n Hand. Looks to me
as though you couldn't pry that fish trainer away from her now with a
crowbar!"

"That's whatever!" returned Cap'n Jonah. "Jest the same I'll feel more
satisfied like when I see 'em spliced an' we've all set up housekeepin'
together. For I tell you, Mr. Silt, them two young folks have told me
that they won't be happy unless I share their quarters with 'em.

"I'm goin' to cast anchor--that's whatever!" said Cap'n Jonah, rapping
his knuckle thoughtfully on the cover of his old silver snuffbox.
"I've come to a pleasant harbor, Mr. Silt. I calc'late I'm goin' to be
happy--and would be happy, fortune or no fortune--for the rest of my
natural life, with little Pearly and her man."

THE END

* * * * *

[Transcriber's Note: Inconsistent hyphenation left as printed.]

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAP'N JONAH'S FORTUNE ***

Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will
be renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
States without permission and without paying copyright
royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™
concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may
do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
license, especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project
Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at
www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™
electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your
possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person
or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this
agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™
electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the
Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual
works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting
free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™
works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily
comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when
you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no
representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear
prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work
on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the
phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed,
performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
other parts of the world 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. If you
are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws
of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is
derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project
Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™
trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works
posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg™ License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format
other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official
version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website
(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain
Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the
full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
provided that:

• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has
agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation.”

• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™
License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™
works.

• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
receipt of the work.

• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than
are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™
electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right
of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO
OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in
accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™
electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or
additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any
Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™

Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future
generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.

The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website
and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread
public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state
visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate.

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be
freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of
volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
facility: www.gutenberg.org.

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.