"Very fine cow, that," commented the lawyer. "An inspiring creature.

I spend hours looking at that cow. She is a comfort to my philosophic soul."

The captain observed that he wanted to know.

"Yes," continued Kendrick. "She is happy; you can see that she is happy.

Now why?"

"'Cause she's eatin' gra.s.s," declared Captain Obed, promptly.

"That's it. Good for you! You have a philosophic soul yourself, Captain.

She is happy because she has nothing to do but eat, and there is plenty to eat. That's my case exactly. I have nothing to do except eat, and at Mrs. Barnes' boarding-house there is always enough, and more than enough, to eat. The cow is happy and I ought to be, I suppose. If MY food was furnished free of cost I should be, I presume."

Kenelm Parker heard a conversation like the foregoing on one occasion and left the office rubbing his forehead.

"There's two lunatics in that place," he told the postmaster. "And if I'd stayed there much longer and listened to their ravin's there'd have been another one."

Kenelm seemed unusually contented and happy in his capacity as man-of-all-work at the High Cliff House. Possibly the fact that there was so very little real work to do may have helped to keep him in this frame of mind. He had always the appearance of being very busy; a rake or a hoe or the kindling hatchet were seldom out of reach of his hand.

He talked a great deal about being "beat out," and of the care and responsibility which were his. Most of these remarks were addressed to Imogene, to whom he had apparently taken a great fancy.

Imogene was divided in her feelings toward Mr. Parker.

"He's an awful interestin' talker," she confided to Emily. "Every time he comes into this kitchen I have to watch out or he'll stay and talk till noontime. And yet if I want to get him to do somethin' or other he is always chock full of business that can't wait a minute. I like to hear him talk--he's got ideas on 'most every kind of thing--but I have to work, myself."

"Do you mean that he doesn't work?" asked Emily.

"I don't know whether he does or not. I can't make out. If he don't he's an awful good make-believe, that's all I've got to say. One time I caught him back of the woodpile sound asleep, but he was hanging onto the axe just the same. Said he set up half the night before worryin'

for fear he mightn't be able to get through his next day's work, and the want of rest had been too much for him. Then he started in to tell me about his home life and I listened for ten minutes before I come to enough to get back to the house."

"Do you think he is lazy, Imogene?"

"I don't know. He says he never had no chance and it might be that's so.

He says the ambition's been pretty well drove out of him, and I guess it has. I should think 'twould be. The way that sister of his nags at him all the time is enough to drive out the--the measles."

Imogene and Hannah Parker, as Captain Obed said, "rubbed each other the wrong way." Hannah was continually calling to see her brother, probably to make sure that he was there and not in the dangerous Larkin neighborhood. Imogene resented these visits--"usin' up Mrs. Thankful's time," she said they were--and she and Hannah had some amusing clashes.

Miss Parker was inclined to patronize the girl from the Orphan's Home, and Imogene objected.

"Well," observed Hannah, on one occasion, "I presume likely you find it nice to be down here, where folks are folks and not just 'inmates.' It must be dreadful to be an 'inmate.'"

Imogene sniffed. "There's all kinds of inmates," she said, "same as there's all kinds of folks. Far's that goes, there's some folks couldn't be an inmate, if they wanted to. They wouldn't be let in."

"Oh, is that so? Judgin' by what I've seen I shouldn't have thought them that run such places was very particular. Where's Kenelm?"

"I don't know. He's to work, I suppose. That's what he's hired for, they tell me."

"Oh, indeed! Well," with emphasis, "he doesn't have to work, unless he wants to. My brother has money of his own, enough to subside on comf'tably, if he wanted to do it. His comin' here is just to accommodate Mrs. Barnes, that's all. Where is he?"

"Last I saw of him he was accommodatin' the horse stall. He may be uptown by this time, for all I know."

"Uptown?" in alarm. "What would he be uptown for? He ain't got any business there, has he?"

"Search ME. Good many guys--folks, I mean--seem to be always hangin'

'round where they haven't business. Well, I've got some of my own and I guess I'd better attend to it. Good mornin', ma'am."

Miss Howes cautioned Imogene against arousing the Parkers' enmity.

"Lordy! I mean mercy sakes, ma'am," exclaimed Imogene, "you needn't be afraid so far as Kenelm's concerned. I do boss him around some, when I think it's needful, but it ain't my bossin' that worries him, it's that Hannah woman's. He says she's at him all the time. Don't give him the peace of his life, he says. He's a misunderstood man, he tells me. Maybe he is; there are such, you know. I've read about 'em in stories."

Emily smiled. "Well," she said, "I wouldn't drive him too hard, if I were you, Imogene. He isn't the hardest worker in the world, but he does do some work, and men who can be hired to work about a place in summer are scarce here in East Wellmouth. You must be patient with him."

"Lor--land sakes! I am. But he does make me cross. He'd be settin' in my kitchen every evenin' if I'd let him. Don't seem to want to go home. I don't know's I blame him for that. You think I ought to let him set, I suppose, Miss Howes?"

"Why, yes, if he doesn't annoy you too much. We must keep him contented.

You must sacrifice your own feelings to help Aunt Thankful. You would be willing to make some sacrifice for her, wouldn't you?"

"You bet your life I would! She's the best woman on earth, Mrs. Barnes is. I'd do anything for her, sacrifice my head, if that was worth five cents to anybody. All right, he can set if he wants to. I--I suppose I might improve his mind, hey, ma'am? By readin' to him, I mean. Mrs.

Thankful, she's been givin' me books to improve my mind; perhaps they'd improve his if I read 'em out loud to him. His sister prob'ly won't like it, but I don't care. You couldn't improve HER mind; she ain't got any.

It all run off the end of her tongue long ago."

By the Fourth of July the High Cliff House was filled with boarders.

Every room was taken, even the little back bedroom and the big room adjoining it. These were taken by a young couple from Worcester and, if they heard any unusual noises in their apartment, they did not mention them. Thankful's dread of that little room had entirely disappeared.

She was now thoroughly convinced that her imagination and the storm were responsible for the "spooks."

John Kendrick continued to sleep and eat at the new boarding-house. He was a general favorite there, although rather silent and disinclined to take an active part in the conversation at table. He talked more with Emily Howes than with anyone and she and he were becoming very friendly.

Emily, Thankful and Captain Obed Bangs were the only real friends the young man had; he might have had more, but he did not seem to care for them. With these three, however, and particularly with Emily, he was even confidential, speaking of his professional affairs and prospects, subjects which he never mentioned to others.

These--the prospects--were brighter than at first. He had accepted one case and refused another. The refusal came as a surprise to East Wellmouth and caused much comment. Mr. Chris Badger was a pa.s.senger on the train from Boston and that train ran off the track at Buzzard's Bay. No one was seriously hurt except Mr. Badger. The latter gentleman purchased a pair of crutches and limped about on them, proclaiming himself a cripple for life. He and Heman Daniels had had a disagreement over a business matter so Chris took his damage suit against the railroad to John Kendrick. And John refused it.

Captain Obed, much disturbed, questioned his friend.

"Land of love, John!" he said. "Here you've been roostin' here, lookin'

out of this window and prayin' for a job to come along. Now one does come along and you turn it down. Why?"

Kendrick laughed. "I'm cursed with a strong sense of contrast, Captain,"

he replied. "Those crutches are too straight for me."

The captain stared. "Straight!" he repeated. "All crutches are straight, ain't they?"

"Possibly; but some cripples are crooked."

So it was to Mr. Daniels, after all, that the damage suit came, and Heman brought about a three-hundred-dollar settlement. Most of East Wellmouth p.r.o.nounced Kendrick "too pesky particular," but in some quarters, and these not by any means the least influential, his att.i.tude gained approval and respect. This feeling was strengthened by his taking Edgar Wingate's suit against that same railroad. Edgar's woodlot was set on fire by sparks from the locomotive and John forced payment, and liberal payment, for the damage. Other cases, small ones, began to come his way. Lawyer Daniels had enemies in the community who had been waiting to take their legal affairs elsewhere.

Heman still professed entire indifference, but he no longer patronized his rival. John had a quiet way of squelching such patronage and of turning the laugh, which was annoying to a person lacking a sense of humor. And then, too, it was quite evident that Emily Howes' liking for the younger man displeased Daniels greatly. Heman liked Emily, seemed to like her very much indeed. On one or two occasions he had taken her to ride behind his fast horse, and he often brought bouquets and fruit, "given me by my clients and friends," he explained. "One can't refuse little gifts like that, but it is a comfort, to a bachelor like me, to be able to hand them on--hand them on--yes."

The first of August brought a new sensation and a new resident to East Wellmouth. The big Colfax estate was sold and the buyer was no less a personage than E. Holliday Kendrick, John Kendrick's aristocratic Fifth Avenue cousin. His coming was as great a surprise to John as to the rest of the community, but he seemed much less excited over it. The purchase was quietly completed and, one pleasant morning, the great E. Holliday himself appeared in East Wellmouth accompanied by a wife and child, two motor cars and six servants.

Captain Obed Bangs, who had been spending a week in Orham on business connected with his fish weirs, returned to find the village chanting the praises of the new arrival. Somehow or other E. Holliday had managed already to convey the impression that he was the most important person in creation. The captain happening in at the High Cliff House after supper, found the group in the living-room discussing the all-important topic. Most of the city boarders were out enjoying a "marshmallow toast"

about a bonfire on the beach, but the "regulars" were present.

"Where's Mrs. Thankful?" was Captain Obed's first question.