Part 54

He did not stop to shake the grimy hands which were thrust out to him. He pushed his way out of the crowd, and his party followed.

“Meet me yonder on the main, boys,” he called back with a sailor heartiness which they understood. “We'll see what can be done!”

“Well, what in the infernal blazes can be done?” growled Captain Candage, catching step with the champion.

“I don't know, sir.”

“You can't do nothing any more sensible with them critters than you could with combined cases of the smallpox and the seven years' itch.”

“Father!” cried the girl, reproachfully.

“I know what I'm talking about! This is dum foolishness!”

“Captain Mayo is a noble man! You ought to be ashamed of hanging back when your help is needed.”

“I don't blame you for sassing that skewangled old tywhoopus, sir,” admitted the old skipper. “I wanted to do it myself. But--”

“I'm afraid I don't deserve much praise,” said Mayo. “I've been getting back at that agent. He made me mad. I'm apt to go off half-cocked like that.”

“So am I, sir--and I'm always sorry for it. We'd better dig out before that tribe of gazaboos lands on our backs.”

“Oh, not a bit of it! I have given my word, sir. I must see it through.”

“But what are you going to do with 'em?”

“Blessed if I know right now! When I'm good and mad I don't stop to think.”

“Suppose I meet 'em for you and tell 'em you have had a sudden death in your family and have been called away? They won't know the difference,” volunteered Captain Candage. “And a real death would be lucky for you beside of what's in store if you hang around.”

“I shall hang around, sir. I can't afford to be ashamed of myself.”

“I think you have said quite enough, father,” stated Polly Candage, with vigor.

'“I have heard of adopting families before,” said the irreconcilable one, “but I never heard of any such wholesale operation as this. I'm thinking I'll go climb a tree.”

They embarked in the dory. Mr. Speed and Dolph splashed their oars and rowed, exchanging looks and not venturing to offer any comment.

“You might auction 'em off to farmers for scarecrows,” pursued Captain Candage, still worrying the topic as a dog mouths a bone. “They ain't fit for no more active jobs than that.”

“I do hope you'll forgive my father for talking this way,” pleaded Polly Candage. She raised brimming eyes to the sympathetic gaze of the young man beside her. “He doesn't understand it the way I do.”

“Perhaps I don't exactly understand it myself,” he protested.

“But what you are doing for them?”

“I haven't done anything as yet except start trouble for them. Now I must do a little something to square myself.”

“There's a reward for good deeds, Captain Mayo, when you help those who cannot help themselves. I believe what the Bible says about casting bread on the waters. It will return to you some day!”

He smiled down on her enthusiasm tolerantly, but he was far from realizing then that this pretty girl, whose eyes were so bright behind her tears, and whose cheeks were flushed with the ardor of her admiration, was speaking to him with the tongue of a sibyl.

XIII ~ A CAPTAIN OP HUMAN FLOTSAM

O what is that which smells so tarry? I've nothing in the house that's tarry. It's a tarry sailor, down below, Kick him out into the snow! Doo me axna, dinghy a-a-a ma! Doo me ama-day! --Doo Me Ama.