"Well--well, I suppose likely they are. Imogene said she was goin'

and--"

"Imogene! You mean that hired inmate over to Thankful Barnes'? Humph!

So she told you she was goin', hey? Well, most likely she told a fib. I wouldn't trust her not to; sa.s.sy, impudent thing! I don't believe she's goin' at all. Is she, Cap'n Bangs?"

The captain, who had remained silent during this family jar, could not resist the temptation.

"Oh yes, Imogene's goin'," he answered, cheerfully. "She's countin' on havin' the time of her life over there. But she isn't the only one.

Why, about all the females in East Wellmouth'll be there. I heard Abbie Larkin arrangin' for her pa.s.sage with Winnie S. yesterday afternoon. Win said, 'Judas priest!' He didn't know where he was goin' to put her, but he cal'lated he'd have to find stowage room somewhere. Oh, Kenelm won't be lonesome, Hannah. I shouldn't worry about that."

Kenelm looked as if he wished the speaker might choke. Hannah straightened in her chair.

"Hum!" she mused. "Hum!" and was silent for a moment. Then she asked:

"Is Mrs. Thankful goin', too? I suppose likely she is."

The captain's cheerfulness vanished.

"No," he said, shortly, "she isn't. She wanted to, but she doesn't feel she can leave the boardin'-house with n.o.body to look after it."

Miss Parker seemed pleased, for some reason or other.

"I don't wonder," she said, heartily. "She shouldn't be left all alone herself, either. If that ungrateful, selfish Orphan's Home minx is selfish enough to go and leave her, all the more reason my brother shouldn't. Whatever else us Parkers may be, we ain't selfish. We think about others. Kenelm, dear, you must stay at work and help Mrs. Barnes around the house tomorrow. You and I'll go to the Fair on Sat.u.r.day. I don't mind; I'd just as soon go twice as not."

Kenelm sprang to his feet. He was so angry that he stuttered.

"You--you--YOU don't care!" he shouted. "'Cause you're goin' TWICE!

That's a divil of a don't care, that is!"

"Kenelm! My own brother! Cursin' and swearin'!"

"I ain't, and--and I don't care if I be! What's the matter with you, Hannah Parker? One minute you're sailin' into me tellin' me to heave up my job and not demean myself doin' odd jobs in a boardin'-house barn.

And the next minute you're tellin' me I ought to stay to home and--and help out that very boardin'-house. I won't! By--by thunder-mighty, I won't! I'm goin' to that Cattle Show tomorrow if it takes my last cent."

Hannah smiled. "How many last cents have you got, Kenelm?" she asked.

"You was doin' your best to borrer a quarter of me this mornin'."

"I've got more'n you have. I--I--everything there is here--yes, and every cent there is here--belongs to me by rights. You ain't got nothin'

of your own."

Miss Parker turned upon him. "To think," she wailed, brokenly, "to think that my own brother--all the brother I've got--can stand afore me and heave my--my poverty in my face. I may be dependent on him. I am, I suppose. But Oh, the disgrace of it! the--Oh! Oh! Oh!"

Captain Obed hurried upstairs to his room. Long after he had shut the door he heard the sounds of Hannah's sobs and Kenelm's pleadings that he "never meant nothin'." Then came silence and, at last, the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. They halted in the upper hall.

"I don't know, Kenelm," said Hannah, sadly. "I'll try to forgive you.

I presume likely I must. But when I think of how I've been a mother to you--"

"Now, Hannah, there you go again. How could you be my mother when you ain't but four year older'n I be? You just give me a few dollars and let me go to that Cattle Show and--"

"No, Kenelm, that I can't do. You are goin' to leave Mrs. Barnes' place; I want you to do that, for the sake of your self-respect. But you must stay there and help her tomorrow. It's your duty."

"Darn my duty! I'll LEAVE tomorrow, that's what I'll do."

"Oh dear! There you go again. Profane language and bettin' on horses!

WHAT'LL come next? My own brother a gambler and a prodigate! Has it come to this?"

The footsteps and voices died away. Captain Obed blew out the light and got into bed. The last words he heard that night were uttered by the "prodigate" himself on his way to his sleeping quarters. And they were spoken as a soliloquy.

"By time!" muttered Kenelm, as he shuffled slowly past the Captain's door. "By time! I--I'll do somethin' desperate!"

Next morning, when Captain Obed's hired motor car, with its owner, a Wellmouth Centre man, acting as chauffeur, rolled into the yard of the High Cliff House, a party of three came out to meet it. John Kendrick and Emily Howes were of the party and they were wrapped and ready for the trip. The captain had expected them; but the third, also dressed for the journey, was Mrs. Thankful Barnes. Thankful's plump countenance was radiant.

"I'm goin' after all," she announced. "I'm goin' to the Fair with you, Cap'n Bangs. Now what do you think of that? . . . That is," she added, looking at the automobile, "if you can find a place to put me."

The captain's joy was as great as his surprise. "Place to put you!" he repeated. "If I couldn't do anything else I'd hang on behind, like a youngster to a truck wagon, afore you stayed at home. Good for you, Mrs.

Thankful! But how'd you come to change your mind? Thought you couldn't leave."

Thankful smiled happily. "I didn't change my mind, Cap'n," she said.

"Imogene changed hers. She's a real, good sacrificin' body, the girl is. When she found I'd been asked and wouldn't go, she put her foot down flat. Nothin' would do but she should stay at home today and I should go. I knew what a disappointment 'twas to her, but she just made me do it. She'll go tomorrow instead; that's the way we fixed it finally. I'm awful glad for myself, but I do feel mean about Imogene, just the same."

A few minutes later, the auto, with John, Emily and Thankful on the rear seat and Captain Obed in front with the driver, rolled out of the yard and along the sandy road toward Wellmouth Centre. About a mile from the latter village it pa.s.sed a buggy with two people in it. The pair in the buggy were Caleb Hammond and Hannah Parker.

Captain Obed chuckled. "There go the sweethearts," he observed.

"Handsome young couple, ain't they?"

The other occupants of the car joined in the laugh. Emily, in particular, was greatly amused.

"Why do you call them sweethearts, Captain?" she asked. "You don't really suppose--"

The captain burst into a laugh.

"What? Those two?" he said. "No, no, I was only jokin'. I don't know about Hannah--single women her age are kind of chancey--but I do know Caleb. He ain't takin' a wife to support, not unless she can support him. He had a chance to use a horse and buggy free for nothin', that's all; and it would be against his principles to let a chance like that go by. Cal'late he took Hannah 'cause he knew ice cream and peanuts don't agree with her dyspepsy and so he wouldn't have to buy any. Ho, ho! I wonder how Kenelm made out? Wonder if he went on his own hook, after all?"

In the kitchen of the High Cliff House Imogene was washing the breakfast dishes and trying to forget her disappointment. A step sounded in the woodshed and, turning, she beheld Mr. Parker. He saw her at the same time and the surprise was mutual.

"Why, h.e.l.lo!" exclaimed Imogene. "I thought you'd gone to the Fair."

"h.e.l.lo!" cried Kenelm. "Thought you'd gone to the Cattle Show."

Explanations followed. "What ARE you cal'latin' to do, then?" demanded Kenelm, moodily.

"Me? Stay here on my job, of course. That's what you're goin' to do, too, ain't it?"

Mr. Parker thrust his hands into his pockets.

"No, by time, I ain't!" he declared, fiercely. "I ain't got any job no more. I've quit, I have."

"Quit! You mean you ain't goin' to work for Mrs. Thankful?"