There was a knock on the door of Captain Perez's sleeping apartment.

“Cap'n Hedge,” said Mrs. Snow, “Cap'n Hedge! I'm sorry to wake you up, but it's 'most ten o'clock and—”

“What? Ten o'clock! Godfrey scissors! Of all the lazy—I'll be out in a jiffy. Perez, turn out there! Turn out, I tell you!”

Captain Eri had fallen asleep in the rocker where he had seated himself upon his return from the fruitless search for the coat. He had had no intention of sleeping, but he was tired after his strenuous work at the fire, and had dropped off in the midst of his worry. He sprang to his feet, and tried to separate dreams from realities.

“Land of love, Perez!” he ejaculated. “Here you and me have been sleepin' ha'f the forenoon. We'd ought to be ashamed of ourselves. Let's git dressed quicker 'n chain lightnin'.”

“Dressed?” queried Perez, sitting up in bed. “I should think you was dressed now, boots and all. What are you talkin' 'bout?”

The Captain glanced down at his clothes and seemed as much surprised as his friend. He managed to pull himself together, however, and stammered:

“Dressed? Oh, I'm dressed, of course. It's you I'm tryin' to git some life into.”

“Well, why didn't you call a feller, 'stead of gittin' up and dressin' all by yourself. I never see such a critter. Where's my socks?”

To avoid further perplexing questions Captain Eri went into the dining room. The table was set, really set, with a clean cloth and dishes that shone. The knives and forks were arranged by the plates, not piled in a heap for each man to help himself. The Captain gasped.

“Well, I swan to man!” he said. “Has Jerry had a fit or what's struck him? I ain't seen him do anything like this for I don't know when.”

“Oh, Cap'n Burgess didn't fix the table, if that's what you mean,” said the new nurse. “Cap'n Baxter seemed to be sleepin' or in a stupor like, and the Doctor, when he come, said I might leave him long enough to run downstairs for a few minutes, so—”

“The Doctor? Has the Doctor been here this mornin'?”

“Yes, he come 'bout an hour ago. Now, if you wouldn't mind goin' up and stayin' with Cap'n Baxter for a few minutes while I finish gettin' breakfast. I've been up and down so many times in the last ha'f hour, I don't know's I'm sartin whether I'm on my head or my heels.”

The Captain went upstairs in a dazed state. As he passed through what had been his room he vaguely noticed that the bureau top was clean, and that most of the rubbish that had ornamented it had disappeared.

The sick man lay just as he had left him, his white face as colorless as the clean pillow case against which it rested. Captain Eri remembered that the pillow cases in the spare room had looked a little yellow the night before, possibly owing to the fact that, as the room had not been occupied for months, they had not been changed. He reasoned that the improvement was another one of the reforms instituted by the lady from Nantucket.

He sat down in the rocker by the bed and thought, with a shiver, of the missing coat. There were nine chances out of ten that whoever found it would recognize it as belonging to the old “Come-Outer.” The contents of the pocket would be almost certain to reveal the secret if the coat itself did not. It remained to be seen who the finder was and what he would do. Meanwhile there was no use worrying. Having come to this conclusion the Captain, with customary philosophy, resolved to think of something else.

Mrs. Snow entered and announced that breakfast was ready and that he must go down at once and eat it while it was hot. She, having breakfasted some time before, would stay with the patient until the meal was over. Captain Eri at first flatly declined to listen to any such arrangement, but the calm insistence of the Nantucket visitor prevailed as usual. The Captain realized that the capacity for “bossin' things,” that he had discerned in the letter, was even more apparent in the lady herself. One thing he did insist upon, however, and this was that Mrs. Snow should “turn in” as soon as breakfast was over. One of the three would take the watch in the sick room while the other two washed the dishes. The nurse was inclined to balk on the dishwashing proposition, saying that she could do it herself after she had had a wink or two, but this the Captain wouldn't hear of. He went away, however, with an unsettled conviction that, although he and his partners might wash the dishes, Mrs. Snow would wash them again as soon as she had an opportunity. “She didn't say so, but she sort of looked it,” he explained afterward.

He found his friends seated at the table and feasting on hot biscuits, eggs, and clear, appetizing coffee. They greeted him joyously.

“Hey, Eri!” hailed Captain Perez. “Ain't this gay? Look at them eggs; b'iled jest to a T. Ain't much like Jerry's h'af raw kind.”

“Humph! You needn't say nothin', Perez,” observed Captain Jerry, his mouth full of biscuit. “When you was cook, you allers b'iled 'em so hard they'd dent the barn if you'd fired 'em at it. How's John, Eri?”

Captain Eri gave his and the Doctor's opinion of his friend's condition and then said, “Now, we've got to have some kind of a settlement on this marryin' question. Last night, when I was up in the room there, it come acrost me all of a sudden that, from what I'd seen of this Nantucket woman, she'd be jest the sort of nurse that John needed. So I skipped out while you fellers was busy with the Doctor, found her at the hotel, explained things to her, and got her to come down. That's all there is to that. I ain't made no arrangement with her, and somethin's got to be done. What do you think of her, jedgin' by what you've seen?”

Captain Perez gave it as his opinion that she was “all right,” and added, “If Jerry here wa'n't so pigheaded all at once, he'd marry her without waitin' another minute.”

Eri nodded. “That's my idee,” he said emphatically.

But Captain Jerry was as obstinate as ever. He simply would not consider immediate marriage. In vain his comrades reminded him of the original compact, and the fact that the vote was two to one against him; he announced that he had changed his mind, and that that was all there was about it.

At length Captain Eri lost patience.

“Jerry,” he exclaimed, “you remind me of that old white hen we used to have. When we didn't want her to set she'd set on anything from a doorknob to a rock, couldn't keep her off; but when we give in finally and got a settin' of eggs for her, she wouldn't come nigher to 'em than the other end of the hen-yard. Now you might as well make up your mind that somethin's got to be done. This Mrs. Snow ain't nobody's fool. We put out a bait that anybody with sense would say couldn't catch nothin' but sculpin, and, by mighty, we hooked a halibut! If the woman was anything like what you'd think she'd be, answerin' an advertisement like that, I'd be the fust to say let her go, but she ain't; she's all right, and we need her to nuss John besides.”

“Tell you what we might do,” said Perez slowly; “we might explain to her that Jerry don't feel that 'twould be right to think of marryin' with Cap'n Baxter so sick in the house and that, if she's willin', we'll put it off till he dies or gets better. Meantime, we'll pay her so much to stay here and nuss. Seems to me that's about the only way out of it.”

So they agreed to lay this proposal before the Nantucket lady, Captain Jerry reluctantly consenting. Then Captain Eri took up another subject.

John Baxter, as has been said, had one relative, a granddaughter, living somewhere near Boston. Captain Eri felt that this granddaughter should be notified of the old man's illness at once. The difficulty was that none of them knew the young lady's address.

“Her fust name's Elizabeth, same as her mothers was,” said Eri, “and her dad's name was Preston. They called her Elsie. John used to write to her every once in a while. P'raps Sam would know where she lived.”

“Jest' cause Sam's postmaster,” observed Perez, “it don't foller that he reads the name on every letter that goes out and remembers 'em besides.”

“Well, if he don't,” said Captain Jerry decidedly, “Mary Emma does. She reads everything, postals and all.”

Miss Mary Emma Cahoon was the assistant at the post-office, and was possessed of a well-developed curiosity concerning other people's correspondence.

“Humph!” exclaimed Captain Eri, “that's so. We'll write the letter, and I'll ask Mary Emma for the address when I go up to mail it.”

So Captain Perez went upstairs to take Mrs Snow's place as nurse, while that lady “turned in.” Captain Jerry went into the kitchen to wash the dishes, and Captain Eri sat down to write the note that should inform Elizabeth Preston of her grandfather's illness. It was a very short note, and merely stated the fact without further information. Having had some experience in that line, the Captain placed very little reliance upon the help to be expected from relatives.

Dr. Palmer had spread the news as he went upon his round of visits that morning, and callers began to drop in to inquire after the sick man. Miss Busteed was one of the first arrivals, and, as Captain Eri had seen her through the window, he went upstairs and took Perez' place as temporary nurse. To Perez, therefore, fell the delightful task of entertaining the voluble female for something like an hour, while she talked fire, paralysis, and general gossip at express speed.

Ralph Hazeltine came in a little later, and was introduced to Mrs. Snow, that lady's nap having been but a short one. Ralph was favorably impressed with the capable appearance of the new nurse, and so expressed himself to Captain Eri as they walked together toward the post-office.

“I like her,” he said emphatically. “She's quiet and sensible and cheerful besides. She looks as if trouble didn't trouble her very much.”

“I jedge she's seen enough of it in her time, too,” observed the Captain reflectively. “Queer thing how trouble acts different on folks. Kind of like hot weather, sours milk, but sweetens apples. She's one of the sweetened kind. And yet, I cal'late she can be pretty sharp, too, if you try to tread on her toes. Sort of a sweet pickle, hey?” and he laughed.

Miss Cahoon remembered the Preston girl's address. It was Cambridge, Kirkland Street, but the number, she did declare, had skipped her mind. The Captain said he would chance it without the number, so the letter was posted. Then, with the electrician, he strolled over to inspect the remains of the billiard saloon.

There was a small crowd gathered about the building, prominent among its members being the “train committee,” who were evidently holding a special session on this momentous occasion. The busy “Squealer,” a trifle enlivened by some of Mr. Saunders' wet goods that had escaped the efforts of the volunteer salvage corps, hailed the new arrivals as brother heroes.

“Well now, Cap'n Eri!” he exclaimed, shaking hands vigorously. “And Mr. Hazeltine, too! How're you feelin' after last night? I says to Web, I says, 'There's folks in this town besides me that kept you from losin' the whole thing and you ought to thank 'em,' I says. 'One of 'em 's Cap'n Eri and t'other one's Mr. Hazeltine. If we three didn't work, then I don't know,' I says.”

“Web found out how the fire started yit?” inquired the Captain with apparent unconcern.

“No, he hain't for sure. There was a lot of us thought old Baxter might have set it, but they tell me it couldn't have been him, cause he was took down runnin' to the fire. Web, he's sort of changed his tune, and don't seem to think anybody set it; thinks it catched itself.”

Mr. Saunders, his smooth self again, with all traces of mental disturbance gone from his face and all roughness from his tongue, came briskly up, smiling as if the burning of his place of business was but a trifling incident, a little annoying, of course, but not worth fretting about. He thanked the Captain and Hazeltine effusively for their service of the previous night, and piled the weight of his obligations upon them until, as Captain Eri said afterwards, “the syrup fairly dripped off his chin.” The Captain broke in upon the sugary flow as soon as he could.

“How d'you think it started, Web?” he asked.

“Well,” replied Mr. Saunders slowly, “I kind of cal'late she started herself. There was some of the boys in here most of the evenin', and, jest like's not, a cigar butt, or a match, or somethin' dropped somewheres and got to smolderin', and smoldered along till bime-by—puff!” An expressive wave of a fat hand finished the sentence.

“Humph!” grunted the Captain. “Changed your mind sence last night. Seems to me I heard you then swearin' you knew 'twas set and who set it.”

“Well, ye-es. I was considerable shook up last night and maybe I said things I hadn't ought to. You see there's been a good deal of hard feelin's towards me in town and for a spell I thought some feller'd tried to burn me out. But I guess not; I guess not. More I think of it, more I think it catched itself. Seems to me I remember smellin' sort of a scorchin' smell when I was lockin' up. Oh, say! I was mighty sorry to hear 'bout Cap'n Baxter bein' took sick. The old man was dreadful down on liquor, but I laid that to his religion and never had no hard feelin's against him. How's he gittin' along?”

Captain Eri brusquely replied that his friend was “'bout the same,” and asked if Mr. Saunders intended to rebuild. “Web” didn't know just yet. He was a poor man, didn't carry much insurance, and so on. Thought likely he should fix up again if it didn't cost too much. Did the Doctor say whether Captain Baxter would pull through or not?

Captain Eri gave an evasive answer and turned away. He was silent for some little time, and when Ralph commented on “Web's” overnight change of manner, his rejoinder was to the effect that “ile was bound to rise, but that didn't mean there wa'n't dirty water underneath.” On the way home he asked Hazeltine concerning the trouble at the cable station, and how Mr. Langley had treated the matter.

Ralph replied that Mr. Langley had said nothing to him about it. It was his opinion that the old gentleman understood the affair pretty well, and was not disposed to blame him. As for the men, they had been as docile as lambs, and he thought the feeling toward himself was not as bitter as it had been. All of which his companion said he was glad to hear.

They separated at the gate, and the Captain entered the house to find Mrs. Snow wielding a broom and surrounded by a cloud of dust. Perez was upstairs with the patient, and Captain Jerry, whose habits had been considerably upset by the sweeping, was out in the barn.

That evening the situation was explained to Mrs. Snow by Captain Eri, in accordance with the talk at the breakfast table. The lady from Nantucket understood and respected Captain Jerry's unwillingness to discuss the marriage question while John Baxter's condition continued critical, and she agreed to act as nurse and housekeeper for a while, at least, for the sum of six dollars a week. This price was fixed only after considerable discussion by the three mariners, for Captain Eri was inclined to offer eight, and Captain Jerry but four.

When Ralph Hazeltine called late in the afternoon of the following day, the dining room was so transformed that he scarcely knew it. The dust had disappeared; the chronometer was polished till it shone; the table was covered with a cloth that was snow-white, and everything movable had the appearance of being in its place. Altogether, there was an evidence of order that was almost startling.

Captain Eri came to the door in response to his knock, and grinned appreciatively at his caller's look of wonder.

“I don't wonder you're s'prised,” he said, with a chuckle. “I ain't begun to git over it yit, myself, and Lorenzo's so shook up he ain't been in the house sence breakfast time. He's out in the barn, keepin' Dan'l comp'ny and waitin' for the end of the world to strike, I cal'late.”

Ralph laughed. “Mrs. Snow?” he inquired.

“Mrs. Snow,” answered the Captain. “It beats all what a woman can do when she's that kind of a woman. She's done more swabbin' decks and overhaulin' runnin' riggin' than a new mate on a clipper. The place is so all-fired clean that I feel like brushin' myself every time I go to set down.”

“How's Captain Baxter?” asked Hazeltine.

“Seems to be some better. He come to a little this mornin', and seemed to know some of us, but he ain't sensed where he is yit, nor I don't b'lieve he will fur a spell. Set down and keep me comp'ny. It's my watch jest now. Perez, he's over to Barry's; Jerry's up to the schoolhouse, and Mrs. Snow's run up to the post-office to mail a letter. John's asleep, so I can stay downstairs a little while, long's the door's open. What's the news uptown? Web changed his mind ag'in 'bout the fire?”

It appeared that Mr. Saunders had not changed his mind, at least so current gossip reported. And it may be remarked here that, curiously enough, the opinion that the fire “caught itself” came at last to be generally accepted in the village. For some weeks Captain Eri was troubled with thoughts concerning the missing coat, but, as time passed, and the accusing garment did not turn up, he came to believe that some boy must have found it and that it had, in all probability, been destroyed. There were, of course, some persons who still suspected John Baxter as the incendiary, but the old man's serious illness and respect for his former standing in the community kept these few silent. The Baxter house had been locked up and the Captain had the key.

Hazeltine and his host chatted for a few minutes on various topics. The gilt titles on the imposing “Lives of Great Naval Commanders,” having received their share of the general dusting, now shone forth resplendent, and the Captain noticed Ralph's eye as it involuntarily turned toward them.

“Noticin' our library?” he chuckled. “Perez' property, that is. 'Gusty Black talked him into buyin' 'em. Never met 'Gusty, did you? No, I guess likely not. She lives over to the Neck, and don't git down to the village much. 'Gusty's what you call a business woman. She' always up to somethin' to make a dollar, and she's as slick a talker as ever was, I guess. She never give Perez no rest till he signed the deed for them books. Told him they'd give liter'ry tone to the shebang. Perez started to read 'em out loud when they fust come, but he had to stop so often to spell out the furrin names that me and Jerry used to go to sleep. That made him mad, and he said, liter'ry tone be durned; he wa'n't goin' to waste his breath readin' us to sleep; so they've been on the shelf ever sence.”

Ralph laughed. “So you have book agents, too?” he said.

“Well, we've got 'Gusty,” was the reply, “and she's enough to keep us goin'. Gits round reg'lar as clockwork once a month to collect the two dollars from Perez. It's her day now, and I told Perez that that was why he sneaked off to Barry's. You see, 'Gusty's after him to buy the history of Methuselah, or some old critter, and he don't like to see her. She's after me, too, but I'm 'fraid she don't git much encouragement.”

After they had talked a little longer, the Captain seemed to remember something, for he glanced at his watch and said, “Mr. Hazeltine, I wonder if I could git you to do me a favor. I really ought to go down and see to my shanty. Ain't been there sence day afore yesterday, and there's so many boys 'round, I'm 'fraid to leave it unlocked much longer. I thought some of the folks would be back 'fore this, but if you could stay here long enough for me to run down there a minute or two, I'd be ever so much obliged. I'll step up and see how John is.”

He went upstairs and returned to report that the patient was quiet and seemed to be asleep.

“If you hear him groan, or anything,” he said, “jest come to the door and whistle. Whistle anyway, if you want me. Ain't nobody likely to come, 'less it's 'Gusty or the Reverend Perley come to ask 'bout John. If it's a middlin' good-lookin' young woman with a satchel, that's 'Gusty. Don't whistle; tell her I'm out. I'll be back in a jiffy, but you needn't tell either of them so unless your conscience hurts you TOO much.”

After the Captain had gone Ralph took down a volume of the “Great Commanders” and sat down in a chair by the table to look it over. He was smiling over the gaudy illustrations and flamboyant descriptions of battles, when there was a step on the walk outside and knock at the door. “Which is it,” he thought, “'Gusty or the Reverend?”

Obviously it was Miss Black. She stood on the mica slab that formed the step and looked up at him as he swung the door open. She had a small leather bag in her hand, just as the Captain had said she would have, but it flashed across Mr. Hazeltine's mind that the rest of the description was not a fair one; she was certainly much more than “middlin' good-lookin'!”

“Is Captain Hedge in?” she asked.

Now, from his friend's hints, Ralph had expected to hear a rather sharp and unpleasant voice,—certain disagreeable remembrances of former encounters with female book agents had helped to form the impression perhaps,—but Miss Black's voice was mellow, quiet, and rather pleasing than otherwise.

“No,” said Mr. Hazeltine, obeying orders with exactitude. “Captain Hedge is out just now.”

“'Gusty”—somehow the name didn't seem to fit—was manifestly disappointed.

“Oh, dear!” she said, and then added, “Will he be back soon?”

Now this was a question unprovided for. Ralph stammered, and then miserably equivocated. He really couldn't say just when the Captain would return.

“Oh, dear!” said the young lady again. Then she seemed to be waiting for some further observation on the part of the gentleman at the door. None being forthcoming, she seemed to make up her mind to act on her own initiative.

“I think I will come in and wait,” she said with decision. And come in she did, Mr. Hazeltine not knowing exactly what to do, under the circumstances.

Now this was much more in keeping with the electrician's preconceived ideas of a book agent's behavior; nevertheless, when he turned and found the young lady standing in the middle of the floor, he felt obliged to be at least decently polite.

“Won't you take a chair?” he asked.

“Thank you,” said the caller, and took one.

The situation was extremely awkward, but Ralph felt that loyalty to Captain Eri forbade his doing anything that might urge the self-possessed Miss Black to prolong her visit, so for a time he said nothing. The young lady looked out of the window and Mr. Hazeltine looked at her. He was more than ever of the opinion that the “middlin'” term should be cut out of her description. He rather liked her appearance, so he decided. He liked the way she wore her hair; so simple an arrangement, but so effective. Also he liked her dress. It was the first tailor-made walking suit he had seen since his arrival in Orham. And worn by a country book agent, of all people.

Just then Miss Black turned and caught him intently gazing at her. She colored, apparently with displeasure, and looked out of the window again. Mr. Hazeltine colored also and fidgeted with the book on the table. The situation was confoundedly embarrassing. He felt that he must say something now, so he made the original observation that it had been a pleasant day.

To this the young lady agreed, but there was no enthusiasm in her tone. Then Ralph, nervously fishing for another topic, thought of the book in his hand.

“I was just reading this,” he said. “I found it quite interesting.”

The next moment he realized that he had said what, of all things, was the most impolitic. It was nothing less than a bid for a “canvass,” and he fully expected to be confronted with the necessary order blanks without delay. But, strangely enough, the book lady made no such move. She looked at him, it is true, but with an expression of surprise and what seemed to be amusement on her face. He was certain that her lips twitched as she said calmly:

“Did you? I am glad to hear it.”

This dispassionate remark was entirely unexpected, and the electrician, as Captain Eri would have said, “lost his bearings” completely.

“Yes—er, yes,” he stammered. “Very interesting indeed. I—I suppose you must take a good many orders in the course of a week.”

“A good many ORDERS?”

“Why, yes. Orders for the books, I mean. The books—the 'Great Naval Lives'—er—these books here.”

“I beg your pardon, but who do you think I am?”

And it was then that the perception of some tremendous blunder began to seize upon Mr. Hazeltine. He had been red before; now, he felt the redness creeping over his scalp under his hair.

“Why, why, Miss Black, I suppose; that is, I—”

Just here the door opened and Captain Eri came in. He took off his cap and then, seeing the visitor, remained standing, apparently waiting for an introduction. But the young lady did not keep him waiting long.

“Are you Captain Eri Hedge?” she asked.

“Yes'm,” answered the Captain.

“Oh, I'm SO glad. Your letter came this morning, and I hurried down on the first train. I'm Elizabeth Preston.”