The trip was cold and long and tedious. The oaks and birches were bare of leaves and the lakes and little ponds looked chill and forbidding. Judah’s prophecy of a clear day was only partially fulfilled, for there were great patches of clouds driving before the wind and when those obscured the sun all creation looked dismal enough, especially to Kendrick, who was in the mood where any additional gloom was distinctly superfluous. But the Foam Flake jogged on and at last drew up beside the Bradley office.

Another horse and buggy were standing there and the captain was somewhat surprised to recognize the outfit as one belonging to the Bayport livery man. A gangling youth in the latter’s employ was on the buggy seat and he recognized the Foam Flake first and his driver next.

“Why, good mornin’, Cap’n,” hailed the youth. “You over here, too?”

Sears, performing the purely perfunctory task of hitching the Foam Flake to a post, smiled grimly.

“No, Josiah,” he replied. “I’m not here. I’m over in South Harniss all this week. Where are you?”

“Eh?... Where be I?... Say, what ”

“Yes, yes, Josiah, all right. Just keep a weather eye on this post, will you, like a good fellow?”

“On the post? On the horse, you mean?”

“No, I mean on the post. If you don’t this er camel of mine will eat it. Thanks. Do as much for you some time, Josiah.”

He went into the building, leaving the bewildered Josiah in what might be described as a state of mind.

“Is the commodore busy?” he asked of the boy at the desk.

“Yes, he is,” replied the boy. “But he won’t be very long, I don’t think.”

“Humph! That’s what you don’t think, eh? Well, now just between us, what do you think?... Never mind, son, never mind, I’m satisfied if you are. I’ll wait. By the way, somebody from my home port is in there with him, I judge.”

“Um hm. Miss Berry, she’s there.”

“Miss Berry! Elizabeth Berry?... Is she there now?”

The boy nodded. “Um-hm,” he declared, “she’s there, but I guess they’re ’most done. I heard her chair scrape a minute or two ago, so I think she’s comin’ right out.”

Kendrick rose from his own chair. “I’ll wait outside,” he said, and went out to the platform again. Josiah, evidently lonely and seeking conversation, hailed him at once.

“Say, that old horse of yours is a cribbler, ain’t he,” he observed. “He’s took one chaw out of that post already.”

Sears paid no attention. He walked around to the rear of the little building and, leaning against its shingled side, waited, gazing absently across the fields to the spires and roofs of Orham village.

He was sorry that Elizabeth was there just at this time. True they met almost daily at the Fair Harbor office, but those meetings were obligatory, this was not. And meeting her at all, relations between them being what they were, was very hard for him. Since George Kent’s disclosure of his feelings and hopes those meetings were harder still. Each one made his task, that of helping the boy toward the realization of those hopes, so much more difficult. He was ashamed of himself, but so it was. No, in his present frame of mind he did not want to meet her. He would wait there, out of sight, until she had gone.

But he was not allowed to do so. He heard the office door open, heard her step he would have recognized it, he believed, anyway upon the platform. He heard her speak to Josiah. And then that pest of an office boy began shouting his name.

“Cap’n Kendrick,” yelled the boy. “Cap’n Kendrick, where are you?”

He did not answer, but the other imbecile, Josiah, answered for him.

“There he is, out alongside the buildin’,” volunteered Josiah. “Cap’n Kendrick, they want ye.”

Then both began shrieking “Cap’n Kendrick” at the top of their voices.

To pretend not to hear would have been too ridiculous. There was but thing to do and he did it.

“Aye, aye,” he answered, impatiently. “I’m comin’!”

When he reached the platform Elizabeth was still there. She was surprised to see him, evidently, but there was another expression on her face, an expression which he did not understand. He bowed gravely.

“Good mornin’,” he said. She returned his greeting, but still she continued to look at him with that odd expression.

“Mr. Bradley’s all ready for you,” announced the office boy, who was holding the door open. Sears’ foot was at the ’threshold when Elizabeth spoke his name. He turned to her in surprise.

“Yes?” he replied.

For an instant she was silent. Then, as if obeying an uncontrollable impulse, she came toward him.

“Cap’n Kendrick,” she said. “May I speak with you? In private? I won’t keep you but a moment.”

“Why why, yes, of course,” he stammered. He turned to the office boy. “Go and tell Mr. Bradley I’ll be right there,” he commanded. The boy went.

Elizabeth spoke to her charioteer, who was leaning forward on the buggy seat, his small eyes fixed upon the pair and his large mouth open.

“Drive over to that corner, Josiah,” she said. “To that store there yes, that’s it. And wait there for me. I’ll come at once.”

Josiah reluctantly drove away. Elizabeth turned again to Kendrick.

“Cap’n Kendrick,” she began. “I shan’t keep you long. I realize that you must be surprised at my asking to speak with you after everything. And, of course, I realize still more than you can’t possibly wish to speak with me.”

He attempted to say something, to protest, but she did not give him the chance.

“No, don’t, don’t,” she said, hurriedly. “Don’t pretend. I know how you feel, of course. But I have been wanting to tell you this for a long time. I hadn’t the courage, or I was too much ashamed, or something. And this is a strange place to say it and time. But when I saw you just now I I felt as if I must say it. I couldn’t wait another minute. Cap’n Kendrick, I want to beg your pardon.”

To add to his amazement and embarrassed distress he saw that she was very close to tears.

“Why why ” he stammered.

“Don’t say anything. There isn’t anything for you to say. I don’t ask you to forgive me you couldn’t, of course. But I I just had to tell you that I am so ashamed of myself, of my misjudging you, and the things I said to you. I know that you were right and I was all wrong.”

“Why why, here, hold on!” he broke in. “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. And I can’t explain. Probably I never can and you mustn’t ask me to. But but I had to say this. I had to beg your pardon and tell you how ashamed I am.... That’s all.... Thank you.”

She turned and almost ran from the platform, down the steps and across the street to the waiting buggy. Sears Kendrick stared after her, stared until that buggy disappeared around the bend in the road. Then he breathed heavily, straightened his cap, slowly shook his head, and entered the lawyer’s office. He was still in a sort of trance when he sat down in the chair in the inner room and heard Bradley bid him good morning. He returned the good morning, but he heard, or understood, very little of what the lawyer said immediately afterward. When he did begin vaguely to comprehend he found the latter was speaking of Elizabeth Berry.

“I wish I knew what her trouble is,” Bradley was saying. “She won’t tell me, won’t even admit that there is any trouble, but that doesn’t need telling. The last half dozen times I have seen her she has seemed and looked worried and absent-minded. And this morning she drove way over here to ask me some almost childish questions about her investments, the money the judge left her. Wanted to know if it was safe, or something like that. She didn’t admit that was it, exactly, but that was as near as I could get to what she was driving at. Do you know what’s troubling her, Kendrick?”

Sears shook his head. “No-o,” he replied. “I’ve heard but no, I don’t know. She wanted to be sure her money was safe, you say?”

“Why, not safely invested, I don’t think that was it. She seemed to want to know what I’d done with the bonds themselves and the other securities of hers. I told her they were in the deposit vaults over at the Bayport bank; that is, some of them were there and some of them were in the bank at Harniss. Then she asked if any one could get them, anybody except she or I. Of course I told her no, and not even I without an order from her. She seemed a little relieved, I thought, but when I asked questions she shut up like a quahaug. But that seemed a silly errand to come away over here on. Don’t you think so, Cap’n? ... Eh? What’s the matter? What are you looking at me like that for?”

The captain was looking at him, was looking with an expression of intense and eager interest. He did not answer Bradley’s question, but asked one, himself.

“Did she ask anything more about well, about her bonds?” he demanded. “Think now; I’ll tell you why by and by.”

The lawyer considered. “No-o,” he said. “Nothing of importance, surely. She asked she seemed to want to know particularly if it was possible for any one except the owner or a duly accredited representative to get at securities in the vaults of those banks. That seemed to be the information she was after.... Now what have you got up your sleeve?”

“Nothin’ nothin’. I guess. Or somethin’, maybe; I don’t know. Bradley, would you mind tellin’ me this much: Of course I’m not Elizabeth’s trustee any more, but would it be out of the way if you told me whether or not you reinvested any of her twenty thousand in City of Boston bonds? City of Boston 4-1/2s; say?”

Bradley did not answer for a moment. Then from a pigeon hole in his desk he took a packet of papers and selected one.

“Yes,” he said, gravely. “I put ten thousand of her money in those very bonds. My brokers up in Boston recommended them strongly as being a safe and good investment.... And now perhaps you’ll tell us why you asked about that?”

Sears’ brows drew together. Here was his vague theory on the way, at least, to confirmation.

“You tell me somethin’ more first,” he said. “’Tisn’t likely you’ve got the numbers of those bonds on that piece of paper, is it?”

“Likely enough. I’ve got the numbers and the price I paid for ’em. Why?”

Kendrick took his memorandum book from his pocket. “Were two of those numbers A610,312 and A610,313?” he asked.

Bradley consulted his slip of paper. “No,” he replied. “Nothing like it.”

“Eh? You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Say, what sort of a trustee do you think I am?”

Sears did not answer. If the lawyer was sure, then his “theory,” instead of being confirmed, was smashed flat.

“Humph!” he grunted, after a moment. “Do you mind my lookin’ at that paper of yours?”

Bradley pushed the slip across the desk. The captain looked at it carefully. “Humph!” he said again. “You’re right. And those are five hundred dollar bonds, all of ’em. Well, that settles that. And now it’s all fog again.... Humph! In a way I’m glad but Pshaw!”

“Yes. And now maybe you’ll tell me what you’re after? Don’t you think it’s pretty nearly time?”

“Why, perhaps, but I’m afraid that’s what I can’t tell you or anybody else.... Bradley, just one more thing. Do you happen to know whether there was any of those Boston bonds in Lobelia Phillips’ estate? That is, did any of ’em come to her husband from her?”

The lawyer’s answer was emphatic enough.

“Yes, I do know,” he said. “There wasn’t any. Those bonds are a brand new issue. They have been put out since her death.”

Here was another gun spiked. Kendrick whistled. Bradley regarded him keenly.

“Cap’n,” he demanded, “are you on the trail of that Eg Phillips? Do you really think you’ve got anything on him? Because if you have and you don’t let me into the game I’ll never forgive you. Of all the slick, smooth, stuck-up nothings that Say, have you?”

Kendrick shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Squire,” he observed. “And, at any rate, I couldn’t tell you, if I had. ... Eh? And now what?”

For the lawyer had suddenly struck the desk a blow with his hand. He was fumbling in another pigeon-hole and extracting therefrom another packet of papers.

“Cap’n Kendrick,” he said, “I know where there are or were, anyhow more of those Boston 4-1/2s.”

“Eh? You do?”

“Yes. And they were thousand dollar bonds, too.... Yes, and.... Give me those numbers again.”

Sears gave them. Bradley grinned, triumphantly.

“Here you are,” he exclaimed. “Five one thousand dollar City of Boston 4-1/2s, bought at so and so much, on such and such a date, numbered A610,309 to A610,313 inclusive. Cap’n Sears, those bonds are or were, the last I knew in the vault of the Bayport National Bank.”

Kendrick rose to his feet. “You don’t tell me!” he cried. “Who put ’em there?”

“I put ’em there. And I bought ’em. But they don’t belong to me. There was somebody else had money left to them, and I, on request, invested it for the owner. Now you can guess, can’t you?”

Cap’n Sears sat down heavily. “Cordelia?” he exclaimed. “Cordelia Berry, of course!... Bradley, what an everlastin’ fool I was not to guess it in the first place! There’s the answer I’ve been hunting for.”

But, as he pondered over it during the long drive home he realized that, after all, it was not by any means a completely satisfying answer. True it confirmed his previous belief that the bonds which Phillips had deposited with the New York brokers were not a part of the residue of his wife’s estate. He had obtained them from Cordelia Berry. But the question as to how and why he had obtained them still remained. Did he get them by fraud? Did she lend them to him? If she lent them was it a loan without restrictions? Did she know what he meant to do with them; that is, was Cordelia a silent partner in Egbert’s stock speculations? Or, and this was by no means impossible considering her infatuation, had she given them to him outright?

Unless there was an element of fraud or false pretense in the transference of those bonds, the mere knowledge of whence they came was not likely to help in regaining George Kent’s sixteen hundred dollars. For the matter of that, even if they had been obtained by fraud, if they were not Phillips’ property, but Cordelia’s, still the return of Kent’s money might be just as impossible provided Phillips had nothing of his own to levy upon. He Kendrick might compel the brokers to return Mrs. Berry’s City of Boston 4-1/2s to their rightful owner, but how would that help Kent?

Well, never mind that now. If the worst came to the worst he could still borrow the eight hundred which would save George from public disgrace. And the fact remained that his campaign against the redoubtable Egbert had made, for the first time, a forward movement, however slight.

His thoughts turned to Elizabeth. The causes of her worry and trouble were plain enough now. Esther Tidditt had declared that she and Phillips were by no means as friendly as they had been. Of course not. She, too, had been forced to realize what almost every one else had seen before, the influence which the fellow had obtained over her mother. Her visit to Bradley and her questions concerning the safety of securities in the bank’s vaults were almost proof positive that she knew Egbert had those bonds and perhaps feared he might get the others. He should not get them if Sears Kendrick could help it. She had asked his pardon, she had confessed that he was right and that she had been wrong. She believed in him again. Well, in return he would fight his battle and hers and George’s harder than ever. The fight had been worth while of itself, now it was more than ever a fight for her happiness. And Egbert by the living jingo, Egbert was in for a licking.

So, to the mild astonishment of the placid Foam Flake, who had been meandering on in a sort of walking doze, Captain Kendrick tugged briskly at the reins and broke out in song, the hymn which Judah Cahoon had sung a few nights before:

“Light in the darkness, sailor,
Day is at hand.”

Judah himself was singing when his lodger entered the kitchen, but his was no joyful ditty. It was a dirge, which he was intoning as he bent over the cookstove. A slow and solemn and mournful wail dealing with death and burial of one “Old Storm Along,” whoever he may have been.

“’Old Storm Along is dead and gone
To my way, oh, Storm Along.
Old Storm Along is dead and gone
Ay ay ay, Mister Storm A-long.

“’When Stormy died I dug his grave
To my way, oh, Storm Along,
I dug his grave with a silver spade.
Ay ay ay, Mister Storm A-long.

“’I hove him up with an iron crane,
To my way, oh, Storm Along,
And lowered him down with ’”

Kendrick broke in upon the flow of misery.

“Sshh! All hands to the pumps!” he shouted. “Heavens, what a wail! Sounds like the groans of the dyin’. Didn’t your breakfast set well, Judah?”

Judah turned, looked at him, and grinned sheepishly. “’Tis kind of a lonesome song, ain’t it?” he admitted. “Still we used to sing it consider’ble aboard ship. Don’t you know we did, Cap’n?”

The captain grunted. “Maybe so,” he observed, “but it’s one of the things that would keep the average man from going to sea. What’s the news since I’ve been gone anything?”

Judah nodded. “Um-hm,” he said. “I cal’late ’twas the news that set me goin’ about old Storm Along. Esther Tidditt’s been over here half the forenoon, seemed so, tellin’ about Elviry Snowden’s aunt over to Ostable. She’s dead, the old woman is, and she died slow and agonizin’, ‘cordin’ to Esther. Elviry was all struck of a heap about it. And now she’s gone.”

“Gone! Elvira? Dead, you mean?”

“Hey? No, no! The aunt’s dead, but Elviry ain’t. She’s gone over to Ostable to stay till after the funeral. She’s about the only relation to the remains there is left, so Esther tells me. There was a reg’lar young typhoon over to the Harbor when the news struck. ’Twas too late for the up train so they had to hire a horse and team and then somebody had to be got to pilot it, ’cause Elviry wouldn’t no more undertake to drive a horse than I would to eat one. And the trouble was that the livery stable boy that Josiah Ellis was off drivin’ somebody else somewheres.”

“Yes, I saw him.”

“Hey? You did? Where? Who was he drivin’?”

“Never mind that. Heave ahead with your yarn.”

“Well, the next thing they done was to come cruisin’ over here to see if I wouldn’t take the job. Hoppin’, creepin’, jumpin’ Henry! I shut down on that notion almost afore they got their hatches open to tell me about it. Suppose likely I’d set in a buggy alongside of Elviry Snowden and listen to her clack from here to Ostable? Not by a two-gallon jugful! Creepin’! She’d have another corpse on her hands time we got there. So I said I was sick.”

“Sick! Ha, ha! You’re a healthy lookin’ sick man, Judah.”

“Um-hm. Mine must be one of them kind of diseases that don’t show on the outside. But I was sick then, all right at the very notion. And, Cap’n Sears, who do you cal’late finally did invite himself to drive that Snowden woman to Ostable? You’ll never guess in this world.”

“Well, I don’t intend to wait until the next world to find out; so you’ll have to tell me, Judah. Who was it?”

“Old Henfruit.”

“Who?”

“Old Henfruit, that’s what I call him. That Eg thing”

“What? Phillips?”

“Yus. That’s the feller.”

“But why should he do it?”

“Oh, just to show off how polite and obligin’ he is, I presume likely. Elviry she was snifflin’ around and swabbin’ her deadlights with her handkercher and heavin’ overboard lamentations about her poor dear Aunt So-and-so layin’ all alone over there and she couldn’t get to her as if ’twould make any difference to a dead person whether she got to ’em or not, and anyhow I’d want to be dead afore Elviry Snowden got to me and Oh, yes, well, pretty soon here comes Eg, beaver hat and mustache and all, purrin’ and wantin’ to know what was the matter. And, of course all hands of ’em started to tell him, ’specially that Aurora Chase, who is so everlastin’ deaf she hadn’t heard the yarn more’n half straight and wan’t sure yet whether ’twas a funeral or a fire. And so ”

“There, there, Judah! Get back on the course. So Egbert drove Elvira over to Ostable, did he?”

“Sartin sure. When Elviry saw him she kind of flew at him same as a chicken flies to the old hen. And he kind of spread out his wings, as you might say, and comforted her and, next thing you know, he’d offered to be pilot and she and him had started on the trip. So that’s the news.... Esther said ’twas good as a town hall to see Cordelia Berry when them two went away together. You see, Cordelia is so dreadful gone on that Eg man that she can’t bear to see another female within hailin’ distance of him. Been just the same if ’twas old Northern Lights Chase he’d gone with. Haw, haw!”

The Fair Harbor was still buzzing with the news of Miss Snowden’s bereavement when Kendrick visited there next day. The funeral was to take place the day after that and Mrs. Brackett was going and so was Aurora. As Miss Peasley and some of the others would have liked to go, but could not afford the railway fare, there was some jealousy manifest and a few ill-natured remarks made in the captain’s hearing. Elvira, it seemed, had sent for her trunk, as she was to remain in Ostable for a week or two at least.

The captain and Elizabeth had their customary conference in the office concerning the Harbor’s bills and finances. Kendrick’s greeting was a trifle embarrassed recollection of the interview at Orham was fresh in his mind. Elizabeth colored slightly when they met, but she did not mention that interview and, although pleasant and kind, kept the conversation strictly confined to business matters.

That afternoon Sears encountered Egbert for the first time in a week or so. The captain was on his way to the barn at the rear of the Harbor grounds. He was about to turn the bend in the path, the bend which he had rounded on the day of his first excursion in those grounds, and which had afforded him the vision of Miss Snowden and Mrs. Chase framed in the ivy-draped window of The Eyrie. As he passed the clump of lilacs, now bare and scrawny, he came suddenly upon Phillips. The latter was standing there, deep in conversation with Mrs. Berry. Theirs should, it would seem, have been a pleasant conversation, but neither looked happy; in fact, Cordelia looked as if she had been crying.

Sears raised his cap and Egbert lifted the tall hat with the flourish all his own. Cordelia did not bow nor even nod. Kendrick, as he walked on toward the barn, was inclined to believe he could guess the cause of Mrs. Berry’s distress and her companion’s annoyance; he believed that City of Boston 4-1/2s might be the subject of their talk. If so, then perhaps those bonds had come into the gentleman’s possession in a manner not strictly within the law. Or, at all events, the lady might not know what had become of them and be requesting their return. He certainly hoped that such was the case. It was the one thing he yearned to find out before making the next strategic advance in his and Egbert’s private war.

But a note from Bradley which he received next day helped him not at all. It was a distinct disappointment. Bradley had, at his request, made some inquiries at the Bayport bank. The lawyer was a director in that institution and he could obtain information without arousing undue curiosity or answering troublesome questions. The two one thousand dollar bonds had been removed from the vaults by Cordelia Berry herself. She had come alone, and on two occasions, taking one bond at each visit. She did not state why she wanted them and the bank authorities had not considered it their business to ask.

So that avenue of hope was closed. Egbert had not taken the bonds, and how they came into his possession was still as great a puzzle as ever. And the time the time was growing so short. On Wednesday Kent had promised to send his brother-in-law eight hundred dollars. It was Saturday when Bradley’s letter came. Each evening George stopped at the Minot place to ask what progress had been made. The young man’s nervousness was contagious; the captain’s own nerves became affected.

“George,” he ordered, at last, “don’t ask me another question. I promised you once, and now I promise you again, that by Wednesday night you shall have enough cash in hand to satisfy your sister and her husband. Don’t you come nigh me until then.”

On Monday, the situation remaining unchanged, Sears determined upon a desperate move. He would see Egbert alone and have a talk with him. He had, after careful consideration, decided what his share in that talk was to be. It must be two-thirds “bluff.” He knew very little, but he intended to pretend to much greater knowledge. He might trap his adversary into a damaging admission. He might gain something and he could lose almost nothing. The attack was risky, a sort of forlorn hope but he would take the risk.

That afternoon he drove down to the Macomber house. There he was confronted with another disappointment. Egbert was not there. Sarah said he had been away almost all day and would not be back until late in the evening.

“He’s been away consider’ble the last two or three days,” she said. “No, I’m sure I don’t know where he’s gone. He told Joel somethin’ about bein’ out of town on business. Joel sort of gathered ’twas in Trumet where the business was, but he never told either of us really. He wasn’t here for dinner yesterday or supper either, and not for supper the day before that.”

“Humph! Will he be here to-morrow, think?”

“I don’t know, but I should think likely he would, in the forenoon, anyhow. He’s almost always here in the forenoon; he doesn’t get up very early, hardly ever.”

“Oh, he doesn’t. How about his breakfast?”

Mrs. Macomber looked a bit guilty.

“Well,” she admitted, “I usually keep his breakfast hot for him, and and he has it in his room.”

“You take it in to him, I suppose?”

“We-ll, he’s always been used to breakfastin’ that way, he says. It’s the way they do over abroad, accordin’ to his tell.”

“Oh, Sarah, Sarah!” mused her brother. “To think you could slip so easy on that sort of soft-soap. Tut, tut! I’m surprised.... Well, good-by. Oh, by the way, how about his majesty’s board bill? Paid up to date, is it?”

His sister looked even more embarrassed, and, for her, a trifle irritated.

“He owes me for three weeks, if you must know,” she said, “but he’ll pay it, same as he always does.”

“Look out, look out! Can’t be too sure.... There, there, Sarah, don’t be cross. I won’t torment you.”

He laughed and Mrs. Macomber, after a moment, laughed too.

“You are a tease, Sears,” she declared, “and always was. Shall I tell Mr. Phillips you came to see him?”

“Eh? No, indeed you shan’t. Don’t you mention my name to him. He loves me so much that he might cry all night at the thought of not bein’ at home when I called. Don’t tell him a word. I’ll try again.”

The next forenoon he did try again. Judah had some trucking to do in the western part of the village and the captain rode with him on the seat of the truck wagon as far as the store. From there he intended to walk to his sister’s, for walking, even as long a distance as a mile, was no longer an impossibility. As he alighted by the store platform Captain Elkanah Wingate came out of the Bassett emporium.

“Mornin’, Kendrick,” he hailed.

Sears did not share Bayport’s awe of the prosperous Elkanah. He returned the greeting as casually as if the latter had been an everyday citizen.

“Been spendin’ your money on Eliphalet’s bargains?” he inquired.

The great man did not resent the flippancy. He seemed to be in a particularly pleasant humor.

“Got a little extra to spend to-day,” he declared, with a chuckle. “Picked up twenty dollars this mornin’ that I never expected to see again.”

“So? You’re lucky.”

“That’s what I thought. Say, Kendrick, have you had any hum business dealings with that man Phillips? No,” with another chuckle, “I suppose you haven’t. He doesn’t love you over and above, I understand. My wife and the rest of the women folks seem to think he’s first mate to Saint Peter, but, between ourselves, he’s always been a little too much of a walkin’ oil barrel to suit me. He borrowed twenty of me a good while ago and I’d about decided to write it down as a dead loss. But an hour or so ago he ran afoul of me and, without my saying a word, paid up like a man, every cent. Had a roll of bills as thick as a skys’l yard, he did. Must have had a lucky voyage, I guess. Eh? Ha, ha!”

He moved off, still chuckling. Kendrick walked down the lower road pondering on what he had heard. Egbert, the professed pauper, in possession of money and voluntarily paying his debts. What might that mean?

Sarah met him at the door. She seemed distressed.

“There!” she cried, as he approached. “If this isn’t too bad! And I was afraid of it, too. You’ve walked way down here, Sears, on those poor legs of yours, and Mr. Phillips has gone again. And I don’t think he’ll be back before night, if he is then. He said not to worry if he wasn’t, because he might have to go to Trumet. Isn’t it a shame?”

It was a shame and a rather desperate shame. This was Tuesday. If the interview with Egbert was to take place at all, it should be that day, or the next. He looked at his sister’s face and something in her expression caused him to ask a question.

“What is it, Sarah?” he demanded. “What’s the rest of it?”

She hesitated. “Sears,” she said, after looking over her shoulder to make sure none of the children was within hearing, “there’s somethin’ else. I I don’t know, but but I’m almost sure Mr. Phillips won’t be back to-night. I think he’s gone to stay.”

“Stay? What do you mean? Did he take his dunnage his things with him?”

“No. His trunk is in his room. And he didn’t have a satchel or a valise in his hand. But, Sears, I can’t understand it they’re gone his valises are gone.”

“Gone! Gone where?”

“I don’t know. That’s the funny part of it. He’s always kept two valises in his room, a big one and a little one. I went into his room just now to make the beds and clean up and I didn’t see those valises anywhere. I thought that was funny and then I noticed that the things on his bureau, his brushes and comb and things, weren’t there. Then I looked in his bureau drawers and everything was gone, the drawers were empty.... Sears, what do you suppose it means?”

Her brother did not answer at once. He tugged at his beard and frowned. Then he asked:

“Didn’t he say a word more than you’ve told me? Or do anything?”

“No. He had his breakfast out here with us this mornin’. Then he went back to his room and, about nine or so, he came out to me and paid his board bill Oh, I told you he’d pay it, Sears; he always does pay and then ”

“Here! Heave to! Hold on, Sarah! He paid his bill, all of it?”

“Yes. Right up to now. That was kind of funny, bein’ the middle of the week instead of the end, but he said we might as well start with a clean ledger, or somethin’ nice and pleasant like that. Then he took a bundle of money from his pocketbook a great, big bundle it was, and Why, why, Sears, what is it? Where are you goin’?”

The captain had pushed by her and was on his way to the front of the house.

“Goin’?” he repeated. “I’m goin’ to have a look at those rooms of his. You’d better come with me, Sarah.”