The captain was immensely pleased.

"Well, I declare, Ed!" he exclaimed. "I didn't believe you'd remember me after all these years. You was nothin' but a boy when I saw you out in 'Frisco. Well! well! No wonder you're in Congress. A man that can remember faces like that ought to be President."

Everdean laughed as they shook hands.

"Don't suppose I'd forget the chap who used to dine with us and tell me those sea stories, do you?" he said. "I'm mighty glad to see you. What are you doing here? The last father and I heard of you, you were in South America. Given up the sea, they said, and getting rich fast."

Captain Cy chuckled.

"It's a good thing I learned long ago not to believe all I hear," he answered, "else I'd have been so sure I was rich that I'd have spent all I had, and been permanent boarder at the poorhouse by now. No, thanks; I've had dinner. Why, yes, I'll smoke, if you'll help along. How's your father? Smart, is he?"

The congressman insisted that they should adjourn to his rooms. An unmarried man, he kept bachelor's hall at the hotel during his stay in Washington. There, in comfortable chairs, they spoke of old times, when the captain was seafaring and the Everdean home had been his while his ship was in port at 'Frisco. He told of his return to Bayport, and the renovation of the old house. Of Bos'n he said nothing. At last Everdean asked what had brought him to Washington.

"Well," said Captain Cy, "I'll tell you. I'm like the feller in court without a lawyer; he said he couldn't tell whether he was guilty or not 'count of havin' no professional advice. That's what I've come to you for, Ed--professional advice."

He told the harbor appropriation story. At the incident of the "committee of one" his friend laughed heartily.

"Rather put your foot in it that time, Captain, didn't you?" he said.

"Yup. Then I got t'other one stuck tryin' to get the first clear. How's it look to you? All straight, do you think? or is there a n.i.g.g.e.r in the wood pile?"

Mr. Everdean seemed to reflect.

"Well, Captain," he said, "I can't tell. You're asking delicate questions. Politicians are like doctors, they usually back up each other's opinions. Still, you're at least as good a friend of mine as Atkins is. Queer HE should bob up in this matter! Why, he--but never mind that now. I tell you, Captain Whittaker, you come around and have dinner with me to-morrow night. In the meantime I'll see the chairman of the committee on that bill--one of the so-called 'pork' bills it is. Possibly from him and some other acquaintances of mine I may learn something. At any rate, you come to dinner."

So the invitation was accepted, and Captain Cy went back to his own hotel and his room. He slept but little, although it was not worry over the appropriation question which kept him awake. Next morning he wrote a note to Georgianna, giving his Washington address. With it he enclosed a long letter to Bos'n, telling her he should be home pretty soon, and that she must be a good girl and "boss the ship" during his absence.

He sent his regards to Asaph and Bailey, but Phoebe's name he did not mention. Then he put in a miserable day wandering about the city. At eight that evening he and his Western friend sat down at a corner table in the big dining room of the Gloria.

The captain began to ask questions as soon as the soup was served, but Everdean refused to answer.

"No, no," he said, "pleasure first and business afterwards; that's a congressional motto. I can't talk Atkins with my dinner and enjoy it."

"Can't, hey? You wouldn't be popular at our perfect boarding house back home. There they serve Heman hot for breakfast and dinner, and warm him over for supper. All right, I can wait."

The conversation wandered from Buenos Ayres to 'Frisco and back again until the cigars and coffee were reached. Then the congressman blew a fragrant ring into the air and, from behind it, looked quizzically at his companion.

"Well," he observed, "so far as that appropriation of yours is concerned--"

He paused and blew a second ring. Captain Cy stroked his beard.

"Um--yes," he drawled, "now that you mention it, seems to me there was some talk of an appropriation."

Mr. Everdean laughed.

"I've been making inquiries," he said. "I saw the chairman of the committee on the pork bill. I know him well. He's a good fellow, but--"

"Yes, I know. I've seen lots of politicians like that; they're all good fellers, but--If I was in politics I'd make a law to cut 'But' out of the dictionary."

"Well, this chap really is a good fellow. I asked about the thirty thousand dollars for your town. He asked me why I didn't go to the congressman from that district, and not bother him about it. I said perhaps I would go to the congressman later, but I came to him first."

"Sartin. Same as the feller with a sick mother-in-law stopped in at the undertaker's on his way to call the doctor. All right; heave ahead."

"Well, we had a rather long conversation. I discovered that the Bayport item was originally included in the bill, but recently had been stricken out."

"Yes, I see. Uncle Sam had to economize, hey? Save somethin' for a rainy day."

"Well, possibly. Still the bill is just as heavy. Now, Captain Whittaker, I don't KNOW anything about this affair, and it's not my business. But I've been about to-day, and I asked questions, and--I'm going to tell you a fairy tale. It isn't as interesting as your sea yarns, but--Do you like fairy stories?"

"Land, yes! Tell a few myself when it's necessary. Sometimes I almost believe 'em. Well?"

"Of course, you must remember this IS a fairy story. Let's suppose that once on a time--that's the way they always begin--once on a time there was a great man, great in his own country, who was sent abroad by his people to represent them among the rulers of the land. So, in order to typically represent them, he dressed in glad and expensive raiment, went about in dignity, and--"

"And whiskers. Don't leave out the whiskers!"

"All right--and whiskers. And it came to pa.s.s that the people whom he represented wished to--to--er--bring about a certain needed improvement in their--their beautiful and enterprising community."

"Sho! sho! how natural that sounds! You must be a mind reader."

"No. But I have to make speeches in my own community occasionally.

Well, the people asked their great man to get the money needed for this improvement from the rulers of the land aforementioned. And he was at first all enthusiasm and upon the--the parchment scroll where such matters are inscribed was written the name of the beautiful and enterprising community, and the sum of money it asked for. And the deal was as good as made. Excuse the modern phraseology; my fairy lingo got mixed there."

"Never mind. I can get the drift just as well--maybe better."

"And the deal was as good as made. But before the vote was taken another chap came to the great man and said: 'Look here! I want to get an appropriation of, say, fifty thousand dollars, to deepen and improve a river down in my State'--a Southern State we'll say. 'I've been to the chairman of the pork bill committee, and he says it's impossible. The bill simply can't be loaded any further. But I find that you have an item in there for deepening and improving a harbor back in your own district. Why don't you cut that item out--shove it over until next year? You can easily find a satisfactory explanation for your const.i.tuents. AND you want to remember this: the improvement of this river means that the--the--well, a certain sugar-growing company--can get their stuff to market at a figure which will send its stock up and up. And you are said to own a considerable amount of that stock. So why not drop the harbor item and subst.i.tute my river slice? Then--' Well, I guess that's the end of the tale."

He paused and relit his cigar. Captain Cy thoughtfully marked with his fork on the tablecloth.

"Hum!" he grunted. "That's a very interestin' yarn. Yes, yes! don't know's I ever heard a more interestin' one. I presume likely there ain't a mite of proof that it's true?"

"Not an atom. I told you it was a fairy tale. And I mustn't be quoted in the matter. Honestly, the most of it is guess work, at that. But perhaps a 'committee of one,' dropping a hint at home, might at least arouse some uncomfortable questioning of a certain great man. That's about all, though. Proof is quite another thing."

The captain pondered. He was fully aware that the unpopularity of the "committee" would nullify whatever good its hinting might do.

"Humph!" he grunted again. "It's one thing to smell a rat and another to nail its tail to the floor. But I'm mighty obliged to you, all the same.

And I'll think it over hard. Say! I can see one thing--you don't take a very big shine to Heman yourself."

"Not too big--no. Do you?"

"Well, I don't wake up nights and cry for him."

Everdean laughed.

"That's characteristic," he said. "You have your own way of putting things, Captain, and it's hard to be improved on. Atkins has never done anything to me. I just--I just don't like him, that's all. Father never liked him, either, in the old days; and yet--and it's odd, too--he was the means of the old gentleman's making the most of his money."

"He? Who? Not Heman?"

"Yes, Heman Atkins. But, so far as that goes, father started him toward wealth, I suppose. At least, he was poor enough before the mine was sold."

"What are you talkin' about? Heman got his start tradin' over in the South Seas. Sellin' the Kanakas gla.s.s beads and calico for pearls and copra--two cupfuls of pearls for every bead. Anyhow, that's the way the yarn goes."