"Well!" exclaimed Asaph. "If that ain't the strangest thing! Who was that feller? Where'd he come from? Did you notice how Cy acted? Seemed to be holdin' himself in by main strength."

"Did you smell the rum on him?" returned Bailey. "On that t'other chap, I mean? Didn't he look like a reg'lar no-account to you? And say, Ase, didn't he remind you of somebody you'd seen somewheres--kind of, in a way?"

They walked home in a dazed state, asking unanswerable questions and making profitless guesses. But Asaph's final remark seemed to sum up the situation.

"There's trouble comin' of this, Bailey," he declared. "And it's trouble for Cy Whittaker, I'm afraid. Poor old Cy! Well, WE'LL stand by him, anyhow. I don't believe he'll sleep much to-night. Didn't look as though he would, did he? Who IS that feller?"

If he had seen Captain Cy, at two o'clock the next morning, sitting by Bos'n's bedside and gazing hopelessly at the child, he would have realized that, if his former predictions were wiped off the slate and he could be judged by the one concerning the captain's sleepless night, he might thereafter pose as a true prophet.

CHAPTER XI

A BARGAIN OFF

"Mornin', Georgianna," said Captain Cy to his housekeeper as the latter unlocked the back door of the Whittaker house next morning. "I'm a little ahead of you this time."

Miss Taylor, being Bayport born and bred, was an early riser. She lodged with her sister, in Ba.s.sett's Hollow, a good half mile from the Cy Whittaker place, but she was always on hand at the latter establishment by six each morning, except Sundays. Now she glanced quickly at the clock. The time was ten minutes to six.

"Land sakes!" she exclaimed. "I should say you was! What in the world got you up so early? Ain't sick, are you?"

"No," replied the captain wearily. "I ain't sick. I didn't sleep very well last night, that's all."

Georgianna looked sharply at him. His face was haggard and his eyes had dark circles under them.

"Humph!" she grunted. "No, I guess you didn't. Looks to me as if you'd been up all night." Then she added an anxious query: "'Tain't Bos'n--she ain't sick, I hope?"

"No. She's all right. I say, Georgianna, you put on an extry plate this mornin'. Got company for breakfast."

The housekeeper was surprised.

"For breakfast?" she repeated. "Land of goodness! who's comin' for breakfast? I never heard of company droppin' in for breakfast. That's one meal folks generally get to home. Who is it? Mr. Tidditt? Has Ketury turned him out door because he's too bad an example for her husband?"

"No, 'tain't Ase. It's a--a friend of mine. Well, not exactly a friend, maybe, but an acquaintance from out of town. He came last evenin'. He's up in the spare bedroom."

"Well, I never! Come unexpected, didn't he? I wish I'd known he was comin'. That spare room bed ain't been aired I don't know when."

"I guess he can stand it. I cal'late he's slept in consider'ble worse--Hum! Yes, he did come kind of sudden."

"What's his name?"

"What difference does that make? I don't know's his name makes any odds about gettin' his breakfast for him."

Georgianna was hurt. Her easy-going employer had never used this tone before when addressing her.

"Oh!" she sniffed. "Is THAT the way you feel? All right! I can mind my own business, thank you. I only asked because it's convenient sometimes to know whether to call a person Bill Smith or Sol Jones. But I don't care if it's Nebuchadnezzar. I know when to keep my tongue still, I guess."

She flounced over to the range. Captain Cy looked ashamed of himself.

"I'm kind of out of sorts to-day," he said. "Got some headache. Why, his name is--is--yes, 'tis Smith, come to think of it--John Smith. Funny you should guess right, wan't it?"

"Humph!" was the ungracious answer. "Names don't interest me, I tell you."

The captain was in the dining room when Bos'n appeared.

"Good morning, Uncle Cyrus," she said. "You've been waiting, haven't you? Am I late? I didn't mean to be."

"No, no! you ain't late. Early, if anything. Breakfast ain't quite ready yet. Come here and set in my lap. I want to talk to you."

He took her on his knee. She looked up into his face.

"What's the matter, Uncle Cy?" she asked. "What makes you so sober?"

"Sober? If you ain't the oldest young one for eight years I ever saw!

Why, I ain't sober. No, no! Say, Bos'n, do you like your school as well as ever?"

"Yes, sir. I like it better all the time."

"Do, hey? And that teacher woman--go on likin' her?"

The child nodded emphatically. "Yes, sir," she said. "And I haven't been kept after since that once."

"Sho! sho! Course you ain't'! So you think Bayport's as nice as Concord, do you?"

"Oh! lots nicer! If mamma was only here I'd never want to be anywhere else. And not then, maybe, unless you was there, too."

"Hum! Want to know! Say, Bos'n, how would you feel if you had to go somewheres else?"

"To live? Have we got to? I'd feel dreadful, of course. But if you've got to go, Uncle Cyrus, why--"

"Me? No; I ain't got to go anywheres. But 'twas you I was thinkin' of.

Wouldn't want to leave the old man, hey?"

"To leave YOU! Oh, Uncle Cyrus!"

She was staring at him now and her chin was trembling.

"Uncle," she demanded, "you ain't going to send me away? Haven't I been a good girl?"

The captain's lips shut tight. He waited a moment before replying.

"'Deed you've been a good girl!" he said brusquely. "I never saw a better one. No, I ain't goin' to SEND you away. Don't you worry about that."

"But Alicia Atkins said one time you told somebody you was going to send me out West, after a while. I didn't believe it, then, she's so mean, but she said you said--"

"SAID!" Captain Cy groaned. "The Lord knows what I ain't said! I've been a fool, dearie, and it's a judgment on me, I guess."

"But ain't you goin' to keep me? I--I--"