"No wonder," laughed Mr. Tidditt. "Cy's so crazy to-night he'd forget his own name. Know what you said, Cy? You said she was Emily Richards THAYER! Haw! haw! She ain't a Thayer, Heman; her last name's Thomas.

She's Emily Richards Thayer's granddaughter though. Her granddad was John Thayer, over to Orham. Good land! I forgot. Well, what of it, Cy?

'Twould have to be known some time."

Everyone looked at Captain Cy then. No one observed Mr. Atkins for the moment. When they did turn their gaze upon the great man he had sunk back in his chair, the gla.s.s of lemonade was upset upon the cloth before him, and he, with a very white face, was staring at Emily Richards Thomas.

"What's the matter, Heman?" asked the captain anxiously. "Ain't sick, are you?"

The congressman started.

"Oh, no!" he said hurriedly. "Oh, no! but I'm afraid I've soiled your cloth. It was awkward of me. I--I really, I apologize--I--"

He wiped his face with his handkerchief. Captain Cy laughed.

"Oh, never mind the tablecloth," he said. "I cal'late it's too soiled already to be hurt by a bath, even a lemon one. Well, you've all heard the toast. Full gla.s.ses, now. Here's TO you, Bos'n! Drink hearty, all hands, and give the ship a good name."

If the heartiness with which they drank is a criterion, the good name of the ship was established. Then the a.s.sembly adjourned to the sitting room and--yes, even the front parlor. Not since the days when that sacred apartment had been desecrated by the irreverent city boarders, during the Howes regime, had its walls echoed to such whoops and shouts of laughter. The children played "Post Office" and "Copenhagen" and "Clap in, Clap out," while the grown folks looked on.

"Ain't they havin' a fine time, Cap?" gushed Miss Phinney. "Don't it make you wish you was young again?"

"Angie," replied Captain Cy solemnly, "don't tempt me; don't! If they keep on playin' that Copenhagen and you stand right alongside of me, there's no tellin' what 'll happen."

Angeline declared that he was "turrible," but she faced the threatened danger nevertheless, and bravely remained where she was.

Mr. Atkins went home early in the evening, taking Alicia with him. He explained that his long railroad journey had--er--somewhat fatigued him and, though he hated to leave such a--er--delightful gathering, he really felt that, under the circ.u.mstances, his departure would be forgiven. Captain Cy opened the door for him and stood watching as, holding his daughter by the hand, he marched majestically down the path.

"Hum!" mused the captain aloud. "I guess he has been travelin' nights.

Thought he ought to be here quick, I shouldn't wonder. He does look tired, that's a fact, and kind of pale, seemed to me."

"Well, there, now!" exclaimed Mrs. Tripp, who was looking over his shoulder. "Did you see that?"

"No; what was it?"

"Why, when he went to open his gate, one of them arbor vity bushes he set out this spring knocked his hat off. And he never seemed to notice, but went right on. If 'Licia hadn't picked it up, that nice new hat would have been layin' there yet. That's the most undignified thing ever I see Heman Atkins do. He MUST be tired out, poor man!"

CHAPTER X

A LETTER AND A VISITOR

"Whit," asked Asaph next day, "wan't you surprised to see Heman last night?"

Captain Cy nodded. He was once more busy with the doll house, the construction of which had progressed slowly of late, owing to the demands which the party and politics made upon its builder's time.

"Yup," he said, "I sartinly was. Pretty good sign, I shouldn't wonder.

Looks as if friend Tad had found the tide settin' too strong against him and had whistled for a tug. All right; the more scared the other side get, the better for us."

"But what in the world made Heman come over and have supper? He never so much as stepped foot in the house afore, did he? That's the biggest conundrum of all."

"Well, I guess I've got the answer. Strikes me that Heman's sociableness is the best sign yet. Heman's a slick article, and when he sees there's danger of losin' the frostin' on the cake he takes care to sc.r.a.pe the burnt part off the bottom. I may be school committeeman after town meetin'. He'll move all creation to stop me, of course--in his quiet, round-the-corner way--but, if I do win out, he wants to be in a position to take me one side and tell me that he's glad of it; he felt all along I was the right feller for the job, and if there's anything he can do to make things easier for me just call on him. That's the way I size it up, anyhow."

"Cy, I never see anybody like you. You're dead set against Heman, and have been right along. And he's never done anything to you, fur's I see.

He's given a lot to the town, and he's always been the most looked-up-to man we've got. Joe Dimick and two or three more chronic growls have been the only ones to sling out hints against him, till you come. Course I'm working for you, tooth and nail, and I will say that you seem to be gettin' the votes some way or other. But if Heman SHOULD step right out and say: 'Feller citizens, I'm behind Tad Simpson in this fight, and as a favor to me and 'cause I think it's right and best, I want 'Lonzo Snow elected'--well, _I_ don't believe you'd have more'n one jack and a ten spot to count for game."

"Probably not, Ase; I presume likely not. But you take a day off some time and see if you can remember that Heman EVER stepped right out and said things. Blame it! that's just it. As for WHY he riles me up and makes me stubborn as a balky mule, I don't know exactly. All I'm sure is that he does. Maybe it's 'cause I don't like the way he wears his whiskers. Maybe it's because he's so top-lofty and condescendin'. A feller can whistle to me and say: 'Come on, Bill,' and I'll trot at his heels all day. But when he pats me on the head and says: 'There there!

nice doggie. Go under the bed and lay down,' my back bristles up and I commence to growl right off. There's consider'ble Whittaker in me, as I've told you before."

The town clerk pondered over this rather unsatisfactory line of reasoning for some minutes. His companion fitted a wooden chimney on the doll house, found it a trifle out of plumb, and proceeded to whittle a shaving off the lower edge. Then Asaph sighed, as one who gives up a perplexing riddle, put his hand in his pocket, and produced a bundle of papers.

"I made out a list of fellers down to the east'ard that I'm goin' to see this afternoon," he said. "Some of 'em I guess 'll vote for you, but most of 'em are pretty sartin' for 'Lonzo. However, I--Where is that list? I had it somewhere's. And--well, I swan! I come pretty near forgettin' it myself. I'm 'most as bad as Bailey."

From the bundle of papers he produced a crumpled envelope.

"That Bailey," he observed, "must be in love, I cal'late, though I don't know who with. Ketury, I s'pose, 'cordin' to law and order, but--Well, anyhow, he's gettin' more absent-minded all the time. Here's a letter for you, Cy, that he got at the post-office a week ago Monday. 'Twas the night of the church sociable, and he had on his Sunday cutaway, and he ain't worn it sence, till the party yesterday. When he took off the coat, goin' to bed, the letter fell out of it. I guess he was ashamed to fetch it round himself, so he asked me to do it. Better late than never, hey? Here's that list at last."

He produced the list and handed it to the captain for inspection. The latter looked it over, made a few comments and suggestions, and told his friend to heave ahead and land as many of the listed as possible. This Mr. Tidditt promised to do, and, replacing the papers in his pocket, started for the gate.

"Oh! Say, Ase!"

The town clerk, his hand on the gate latch, turned.

"Well, what is it?" he asked. "Don't keep me no longer'n you can help. I got work to do, I have."

"All right, I won't stop you. Only fallin' in love is kind of epidemic down at the boardin' house, I guess. Who is it that's got you in tow--Matildy?"

"What are you talkin' about? Didn't I tell you to quit namin' me with Matildy Tripp? I like a joke as well as most folks, but when it's wore into the ground I--"

"Sho, sho! Don't get mad. It's your own fault. You said that absent-mindedness was a love symptom, so I just got to thinkin', that's all. That letter that Bailey forgot--you haven't given it to me yet."

Asaph turned red and hastily s.n.a.t.c.hed the papers from his pocket. He strode back to the door of the woodshed, handed his friend the crumpled envelope, and stalked off without another word. The captain chuckled, laid the letter on the bench beside him and went on with his work. It was perhaps ten minutes later when, happening to glance at the postmark on the envelope, he saw that it was "Concord, N. H."

Asaph's vote-gathering trip "to the east'ard" made a full day for him.

He returned to the perfect boarding house just at supper time. During the meal he realized that Mr. Bangs seemed to be trying to attract his attention. Whenever he glanced in that gentleman's direction his glance was met by winks and mystifying shakes of the head. Losing patience at last, he demanded to know what was the matter.

"Want to say somethin' to me, do you?" he inquired briskly. "If you do, out with it! Don't set there workin' your face as if 'twas wound up, like a clockwork image."

This remark had the effect of turning all the other faces toward Bailey's. He was very much upset.

"No, no!" he stammered. "No, no! I don't want you for nothin'. Was I makin' my face go? I--I didn't know it. I've been washin' carriages and cleanin' up the barn all day and I cal'late I've overdone. I'm gettin'

old, and hard work's likely to bring on shakin' palsy to old folks."

His wife tartly observed that, if WORK was the cause of it, she guessed he was safe from palsy for quite a spell yet. At any rate, a marked recovery set in and he signaled no more during the meal. But when it was over, and his task as dish-wiper completed, he hurried out of doors and found Mr. Tidditt, shivering in the November wind, on the front porch.

"Now what is it?" asked Asaph sharply. "I know there's somethin' and I've froze to death by sections waitin' to hear it."

"Have you seen Cy?" whispered Bailey, glancing fearfully over his shoulder at the lighted windows of the house.

"No, not sence mornin'. Why?"