"No." The lawyer's tone was sharp.

"Humph! Well, take my advice and don't. Yachts are all right, to have a good time on, but they cost like the devil to keep up. An auto is bad enough. By the way, Sylvester, did you hear about my running over the Irishman this morning?"

"Running over?" repeated the captain, aghast. "You didn't run over n.o.body, I hope."

"Well, I came devilish near it. Ha! ha! You see, the old tarrier was crossing Saint Nicholas Avenue, with a big market basket full of provisions--the family dinner, I suppose. By Jove, the household appet.i.tes must be good ones. It was slippery as the mischief, I was running the car, and I tried to go between the fellow and the curb.

It would have been a decent bit of steering if I'd made it. But--ha!

ha!--by Jove, you know, I didn't. I skidded. The man himself managed to hop out of the way, but his foot slipped, and down he went. Most ridiculous thing you ever saw. And the street! 'Pon my word it was paved with eatables."

Sylvester, plainly annoyed, did not reply. But Captain Elisha's concern was evident.

"The poor critter!" he exclaimed. "What did you do?"

"The last I saw of him he was sitting in the mud, looking at the upset.

I didn't linger. Peters took the wheel, and we beat it. Lucky the cop didn't spot the license number. Might have cost me fifty. They've had me up for speeding twice before. What are you and the Admiral discussing, Sylvester?"

"We were discussing a business matter," answered the lawyer, with significant emphasis.

"Business? Why, sure! I forgot that you were Graves's partner. Settling the family affairs, hey? Well, I won't b.u.t.t in. Ta, ta! See you later, Captain. You must go for a spin in that car of mine. I'll call for you some day. I'll show you something they don't do on Cape Cod. Regards to Caro and Steve."

He moved off, feeling that his invitation would have met with his mother's approval. She had announced that the country uncle was to be "cultivated."

Captain Elisha's cigar had gone out. He did not attempt to relight it.

"Whew!" he whistled. "Well, when I go for a 'spin,' as he calls it, with _him_, I cal'late my head'll be spinnin' so I won't be responsible for my actions. Whew!"

Sylvester looked curiously at him.

"So you met him before?" he asked.

"Yes. He was at the rooms when I fust landed. Or his mother was there then. He came a little later with Caroline and Stephen."

"I see."

"Yes. Know him and his ma pretty well, do you?"

"Slightly. I've met them, at mutual acquaintances' homes and about town."

"Pretty well fixed, I s'pose, ain't they?"

"I presume so. I don't know."

"Um. He's a sociable young feller, ain't he? Don't stand on any ceremony, hey? Caro and Steve think a lot of him and his mother."

"Yes. Graves has told me the Dunns were very intimate with the Warrens.

In fact, just before your brother's death, I remember hearing a rumor that the two families might be even closer connected."

"You mean--er--Caroline and--er--him?"

"There was such a rumor. Probably nothing in it. There is no engagement, I am very sure."

"Yes, yes, I see. Well, Mr. Sylvester, I must be trottin' on. I'll think the whole business over for another day or so and then give you my decision, one way or the other."

"You can't give it now?"

"No-o. I guess I'd better not. However, I think--"

"Yes."

"Well, I think I may take the job. Take it on trial, anyhow."

"Good! I'm glad of it."

"You _are_?"

"I certainly am. And I'm very glad indeed to have made your acquaintance, Captain Warren. Good afternoon. I shall hope to see you again soon."

Captain Elisha left the Central Club in a surprised frame of mind. What surprised him was that a man of such thorough city training and habits as the senior partner of the law firm should express pleasure at the idea of his accepting the charge of A. Rodgers Warren's heirs and estate. Mr. Graves had shown no such feeling.

If he had heard Sylvester's report to Kuhn, at the office next day, he might have been even more surprised and pleased.

"He's a brick, Kuhn," declared the senior partner. "A countryman, of course, but a keen, able, honest man, and, I think, a mighty good judge of character. If I was as sure of his ability to judge investments and financial affairs, I should be certain the Warren children couldn't be in better hands. And no doubt we can help him when it comes to that.

He'll probably handle the girl and boy in his own way, and his outside greenness may jar them a little. But it'll do them good to be jarred at their age. He's all right, and I hope he accepts the whole trust."

"Well," exclaimed Mr. Kuhn; "you surprise me. Graves seemed to be--"

"Graves suffers from the absolute lack of a sense of humor. His path through life is about three feet wide and bordered with rock-ribbed conventionality. If a man has a joke in his system, Graves doesn't understand it and is suspicious. I tell, you, Kuhn, there's more honest common sense and ability in the right hand of this Down-East salt than there ever was in Rodgers Warren's whole body."

CHAPTER VII

During the next day Caroline Warren and her brother saw little of their uncle. Not that they complained of this or sought his society. The policy of avoidance and what Stephen called "freezing out" had begun, and the young people kept to themselves as much as possible. At breakfast Caroline was coldly polite, and her brother cold, although his politeness was not overdone. However, Captain Elisha did not seem to notice. He was preoccupied, said but little, and spent the forenoon in writing a second letter to Miss Abigail. In it he told of his experience on board the _Empress of the Ocean_ and of the luncheon at the Central Club. But he said nothing concerning his nephew and niece further than the statement that he was still getting acquainted, and that Caroline was a real nice looking girl.

"I suppose you wonder what I've decided about taking the guardianship,"

he added, just at the close. "Well, Abbie, I'm about in the position of Luther Sylvester when he fell off the dock at Orham. The tide was out, and he went into the soft mud, all under. When the folks who saw him tumble got to the edge and looked over, they saw a round, black thing sticking out of the mire, and, judging 'twas Lute's head, they asked him how he felt. 'I don't know yet,' sputters Lute, 'whether I'm drowned or smothered, but I'm somewheres betwixt and between.' That's me, Abbie, on that guardian business. I'm still betwixt and between. But before this day's over I'll be drowned or smothered, and I'll let you know which next time I write."

After lunch he took a stroll in the Park and pa.s.sed up and down the paths, thinking, thinking. Returning, he found that Caroline and Stephen had gone for an auto ride with the Dunns and would not be home for dinner. So he ate that meal in solitary state, waited upon by Edwards.

That evening, as he sat smoking in the library, the butler appeared to announce a caller.

"Someone to see you, sir," said Edwards. "Here's his card, sir."

"Eh? Someone to see _me_? Guess you've made a mistake, haven't you, Commodore? I don't know anybody who'd be likely to come visitin' me here in New York. Why, yes! Well, I declare! Tell him to walk right in. Mr.

Pearson, I'm glad to see you. This is real neighborly."