SEPH CORNELL UNIVERSITY LffiRARIES HHACA. N. Y. 14853 JOHN M. OLIN LIBRARY Partners of the Tide By JOSEPH C. LINCOLN Author of " Cap'n Eri' A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers NEW YORK Copyright, 1920, by D. APPLETON & COMPANY Copyright, 1905, by A. S. BARNES & COMPANY Printed in the United States of America CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. The O&HAii Stage i II. The "Old Maids" 20 III. The "Dog Girl" 40 IV. The "Last Dat" 6+ V. A Chahge of Flans 86 VI. The Thouas Doahe 103 VII. A Question of Policy 121 Vin. HouE Again 148 IX. Wrecking and Waltzing 169 X. The Lumber Schooner 193 XI. At Setuckit Point aio XII. The Anchor or the Liberty 238 XIII. Mr. Cook Wires 247 XIV. The "Subscription Ball" 262 XV. The Diving Belle 282 XVI. The Captain's Gamble 294 XVII. Work and Worry 306 XVIIL Mr. Sam Hammond 318 XIX. The Burglar 3*9 XX. A Deut is Paid 347 XXI. "Storm Along, John!" 363 XXIL Thanksgiving 384 The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 92401 1 01 6791 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE PARTNERS OF THE TIDE ft rr'^X CHAPTER I. THE ORHAM STAGE. w AS you cal'Iatin' to buy one of them turnovers, bub ?" casual- ly inquired Mr. Clark, ceasing to gaze at his steaming boots, which were planted against the bulging centre of the station stove, and turning toward the boy at the lunch counter. "Yes, sir," said the boy. He had taken off one 1 a PARTNERS OF THE TIDE worsted mitten and held a five-cent piece clutched tightly in his red fist. "I want to know 1" exclaimed Mr. Clark, and then, bending forward, as much as his girth would allow, to wink 'round the corner of the stove at Mr. Bodkin, who sat opposite, he added: "Ain't your ma ever learned you to respect age ?" The boy made no reply to this question, but Mr. Bodkin slapped his thigh and remarked that that was "a good one." "Them turnovers," continued Mr. Clark, "was willed to this depot by the man that used to drive the Ostable bake-cart. He's dead now, and here you be, figgerin' to eat up his gravestone. Dear, dear! I don't know what this country's comin' to. Ike, gimme a match." Mr. Bodkin, after his laugh was over, produced a "card" of matches and passed them to the humor- ist, who used one to relight the stump of his cigar and put the remainder in his pocket. Then he re- turned to his subject. "Them turnovers " he began, but was inter- rupted by the station agent, who came out of the little room where the telegraph instrument was click- ing, and stepped behind the lunch counter. He looked at the joker and his companion in anything but a friendly manner. "Those turnovers," said the station agent, "were fresh yesterday and they're good for somethin', which is more than I can say about some other fresh things around this depot jest now. Lon Clark, I'd like to THE ORHAM STAGE 3; remind you that we use blackin' on that stove, not terbacker juice. Well, boy, what'U you have?" The boy, thus appealed to, held up his five-cent piece and said that he should like one of the slan- dered "turnovers." "All right; which'U it be — mince or apple?" "If I was you," suggested Mr. Clark, not yet com- pletely crushed, "I'd take the mince kind. You knowi what you'll git if you take apple, but baker's mince- meat's kind of a myst'ry. Might bite into a gold dollar, like as not; hey, Ike?" "Give me an apple one," said the boy, decidedly. The station agent wrapped the pastry in a piece of newspaper and handed it to his customer. Then he* came out from behind the counter and, looking at Mr. Clark and his friend, sniffed suspiciously. "Either of you fellers got your boots afire?" he asked, after a moment. "Seems to me I smell some- thin' mean, like leather burnin'. Oh, excuse me, Lon; I didn't notice your cigar." And, having un- loaded this bit of sarcasm, he returned to the tele- graph instrument. The boy, a youngster of about twelve years of age, with a freckled face and a pair of bright gray eyes, took his "turnover" to the settee in the corner of the waiting-room and began to eat. He had on a worn cloth cap with an attachment that could be pulled down to cover the ears, and a shabby overcoat of man's size, very much too large for him. As he munched the greasy crust and the thin layer of "evap- orated" apple, he looked around him with interest. '4 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE The station Itself was like the average railway building on Cape Cod. Except for the sign "Har- niss" that hung outside, it might have been the station at Wellmouth, which he had seen so often. Battered settees around the walls; lithographs of steamers, time-tables and year-old announcements of excursions and county fairs hung above them; big stove set in a box of sawdust — all these were the regulation fix- tures. Regulation also were the "refreshments" on the counter at the side — "turnovers" arranged cob- house fashion under a glass cover, with a dingy "Washington" pie under another cover, and jars of striped stick candy with boxes of "jawbreakers" and similar sweetmeats between. It was snowing hard and, in the dusk of the winter evening, the flakes rustled against the windows as if unseen old ladies in starched summer gowns were shivering In the storm and crowding to get a peep within. The air in the shut waiting-room smelt of hot stove, sawdust, wet clothing and Mr. Clark's cigar. To this collection! of perfumes was presently added the odor of kerosene as the station agent lit the big lamps In their brackets on the wall. From outside came the sounds of creaking wheels and stamping horses, the stamping muffled by the snow which covered the ground. Also some one, in a voice more vigorous than sweet, was heard to sing a chorus of "Hi, randy, dandy — o!" Mr. Clark and his friend took their feet down from the stove and looked expectantly toward the door, the former remarking that "Barney was feelin' gay to-night," THE ORHAM STAGE 5 and that he "must have a bottle of consolation along." The door opened and a big man, with a face of which gray whiskers and red nose were the most prominent features, came stamping and puffing into the room. He jerked off a pair of leather gloves, playfully shook the congealed moisture from them down Mr. Clark's neck inside his collar, tossed a long whip into the corner, and, holding his spread fingers over the stove, began to sing "Whoa, Emma I" with enthusiasm. Mr. Clark being too busy clawing the melting snow from his neck to open a conversation, Mr. Bodkin observed: "Hello, Barney! How's the trav'lin'? Have a rough time drivin' over?" "Oh, middlin' middlin'," replied the driver of the Orham stage, unbuttoning his overcoat and reach- ing for his pipe; "but this earth's a vale of tears anyhow, so what's the odds so long's you're happy. Hello, Dan!" The last a shouted greeting to the station agent in the little room, whose answer was a wave of the hand and a sidelong nod across the tele- graph instrument. "What's doin' over in Orham, Barney?" inquired Mr. Clark. "Methodist folks are goin' to start up temp'rance meetin's; Seth Wingate's bought a new horse; and 'Hungry' Bill Samuels has got another child — that's the latest excitement jest about now. Not that 'Hun- gry' Bill's baby was much of a surprise; you can 6 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE gin'rally count on a new Samuels every year. The temp'rance revival is the reel thing, though; folks signin' the pledge as if 'twas catchin', like the measles." "You ain't developed the symptoms yit, have you?" asked Mr. Clark, with a laugh. "No, not yit. Lucky 1 was vaccinated young. I ain't takin' no chances, though ; keep plenty of pre- ventative In the house all the time;" and, with a pro- found wink, Mr. Small began to hum, "Cold water, cold water; oh, that is my songl" "Oh, say I" he shouted, suddenly interrupting hi^ own concert, "say, Dan! there is some more news, after all. Come out here a minute; I want to tell you somethin'." The station agent turned his head in the speaker's direction. "Go ahead," he said, "I can hear you." "Well, I thought you'd be interested, bein' as you used to live In Orham. Prissy and Tempy's adopted a boy." The agent evidently was Interested. "What?" he exclaimed. "Prissy and Tempy's took a boy to bring up. Oh, It's a fact ! It took me some time to b'lieve It, my- self, but it's so." "The old maids?" "Yup, the old maids. I s'pose they come to reel- ize that they needed a man 'round the house, but as there wan't no bids in that line, they sort of com- promised on a boy." "You don't mean the Allen old maids that live THE ORHAM STAGE 7 down on the 'lower road,' do you?" asked Mr. Bodkin. "Sartin. I said the old maids, didn't I ? There's plenty of single women in Orham, but when you say 'the old maids' in our town, everybody knows you mean Prissy and Tempy." "I done a job for them once," remarked Mr. Bod- kin, reflectively. "I was over to Orham sellin' ber- ries. I warn't reelly lookin' for no work, you under- stand, but " "Yup, we understand," said the stage driver, dryly. "It sort of reached out and nabbed you 'fore you could git away." "That's it," assented Ike, oblivious to the sarcasm. "I called at their place — it's that big, old-fashioned house by John Baxter's cranb'ry swamp, Lon — and Miss Prissy Allen, she bought the last of my huckle- berries. Then she wanted to know if I wouldn't mow the front yard. We had some dicker 'bout the price, but I fin'Uy agreed to do it, so she showed me where the scythe was and I started in. And I swan to man," continued Mr. Bodkin, excitedly, "if she didn't stand on the front steps and watch me like a dog tryin' to locate a flea, jumpin' on me every minute or two to tell me that she thought I'd cut this part ' 'most an inch shorter'n I had that part,' and so on. Fin'Uy I got sick of her naggin', and I says, jest to shame her, I says, 'If I'd known you was so partic'lar,' I says, 'I'd a-brought my sperrit level along,' I says. And says she, 'There's one that used to b'long to father out in the barn.' Well, sir ! that was too much 8 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE for me! 'I don't mow grass % no sperrit level,' says I, 'and I tell you, I- "What about the boy, Barney?" said the station agent, coming into the waiting-room. "Why," said Mr. Small, "it's this way; seems that Prissy and Tempy's father, old Cap'n D'rius Allen — he's been dead six years or more now — had a niece name of Sophia, that married Cap'n Ben Nickerson over to Wellmouth. Cap'n Ben and his wife had -one son ; I think the boy's name's Bradley. Anyhow, t^ap'n Ben and his wife was drowned off the Portu- ,guese coast two years ago when Ben's bark was lost; maybe you remember? Well, the boy was left at home that voyage with Ben's ha'f brother, Solon Nickerson, so's the youngster could go to school. When his folks was drownded that way the boy kept on livin' with Solon till, 'bout three weeks ago, Solon was took with pneumony and up and died. Prissy and Tempy's the only relations there was, you see, so it was left to them to say what should be done with the boy. I cal'late there must have been some high old pow-wowin' in the old house, but the old maids are pretty conscientious, spite of their bein' so everlastin' 'old maidy,' and they fin'Uy decided 'twas their duty to take the little fel- ler to bring up. That's the way / heard the yarn. They kept it a secret until yesterday, but now the whole town's, 'ralkin' 'bout it. You see, it's such a good joke for them two to have a boy in the house. Why, Prissy's been used to shooin' every stray boy off the place as if he was a hen." THE ORHAM STAGE 9 Mr. Small laughed so heartily at this that the others joined in. When the hilarity had subsided, the station agent asked : "When's the Nickerson boy comin' over from Wellmouth?" "Why, to-day, come to think of it. He was to come up on the afternoon train from Wellmouth and go to Orham with me to-night. You ain't seen nothin' " The station agent interrupted him with a sidelong movement of the head. 1 "Huh?" queried Mr, Small. Then he, in com- pany with Mr. Clark and Mr. Bodkin, turned to- ward the corner of the waiting-room. The boy who had bought the apple "turnover," having finished the last crumb of that viand, had turned to the window, and was looking out through a hole he had scraped in the frost on the pane. He had shaded his face with his hands to shut out the lamplight, and, though he must have heard the con- versation, his manner betrayed no interest in it. Mr. Small interrogated the station agent by rais- ing his eyebrows. The agent whispered, "Shouldn't wonder," and added: "He came on the up-train this, afternoon." "Hey, boy!" said Mr. Clark, who never let con- sideration for other people interfere with his own curiosity, "what's your name?" The boy turned from the window and, blinking a little as the light strack his eyes, faced the group by the stove. His freckled cheeks glistened as the light 10 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE shone upon them, but, as if he knew this, he pulled the big sleeve of the overcoat across his face and rubbed them dry. "What's your name, sonny?" said the stage driver, kindly. "Nickerson," said the boy in a low tone. "I want to know ! Your fust name ain't Bradley, is it?" "Yes, sir." "Sho ! well, there now ! Guess you're goin' to ride over with me then. I drive the Orham coach. Hum ! well, I declare I" And Mr. Small pulled his beard in an embarrassed fashion. "Come over to the stove and get warm, won't you?" asked the station agent. "I ain't cold," was the reply. "Well, ain't you hungry now ?" said Barney, who was afraid that his roughly told story had hurt the youngster's feelings. "Won't you have somethin' to eat? One of them turnovers or some Washington pie, or somethin', hey? Got a long ride ahead of you, you know," "He's got outside of one turnover already," said Clark, with a loud laugh, "and that's enough to last most folks for a consid'rable spell. Haw ! haw 1" "Shut up, Lon," snapped the stage driver. "What d'you say, son? Somethin' to eat?" "'I ain't hungry, thank you," said the boy, and turned to the window again. The trio by the stove fidgeted in silence for a few moments, and then Mr. Small said, uneasily : "Ain't THE ORHAM STAGE ii it 'most time for that train to be in? She's a ha'f hour late now." "She was twenty-five minutes late at Sandwich," said the station agent, "and she's prob'ly lost ten minutes or so since then. She'll be along in a little while now." But in spite of this cheerful prophecy a full fifteen minutes passed before the train, which had been started from Boston with the vague idea that, some time or other, it might get to Provincetown, came coughing and panting 'round the curve and drew up at the station platform. Car roofs and sides, and tender and locomotive were plastered thick with snow, and the empty seats seen through the doors as the trainmen emerged, showed that: travel for this night was verj^ light indeed. In fact, only one pas- senger got out at the Harniss station, and he, stop- ping for a moment to hand his trunk check to the station agent, walked briskly into the waiting-room and slammed the door behind him. "Hello!" he hailed, pulling off a buckskin glove and holding out a big hand to the stage driver. "Barney, how's she headin'?" Mr. Small grinned and took the proffered hand. "Well, for the land's sake, Ez TItcomb !" he ex- claimed. "Where'd you drop from ? Thought you was somewheres off the coast between New York and Portland jest 'bout now." "Got shore leave for a fortnl't or so," said the newcomer, unbuttoning his overcoat with a smart jerk, and throwing It wide open. "Schooner sprung 12 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE a leak off Gay Head last trip and she's hauled up at East Boston for repairs. Dirty weather, ain't it? Hello, Lon? How are you, Ike?" Mr. Clark and his friend grinned and responded, "How are you, Cap'n Ez?" in unison. The arrival was a short, thickset man, with a sun- burned face, sharp eyes, hair that was a reddish brown sprinkled with gray, and a close-clipped mus- tache of the same color. He wore a blue overcoat over a blue suit, and held a cigar firmly in one cor- ner of his mouth. His movements were quick and sharp, and he snapped out his sentences with vigor. "Full cargo to-night?" he asked of Mr. Small, who was buttoning his overcoat and pulling on his gloves. "Pretty nigh an empty hold," was the reply. "Only 'bout one and a ha'f goin' over. You're the one and the boy here's the ha'f." The Captain looked at the boy by the window and smiled pleasantly. "Well, son," he observed, "you and me'U have the whole cabin to ourselves, won't we?" "Yes, sir," replied the youngster. He had pulled from behind the settee an old-fashioned carpet-bag, the cadaverous sides of which testified that the ward- robe it held was not an extensive one. Mr. Clark, who had a reputation as a humorist to sustain, noticed the bag and rose to the occasion. "Say, bub," he said, "you ought to feed that satchel of yours two or three of them apple turnovers ; maybe 'twould fat up some." Ike Bodkin roared at his friend's witticism, and the THE ORHAM STAGE 13 boy turned red and looked out of the window once more. Captain Titconib noticed the lad's confusion, and remarked cheerfully: "Lon, you remind me of that flyin' machine old Cap'n Lahe Saunders was perfectin' for the five years afore he died. You're fat and full of hot air, but you won't work. Turnovers are all right; I like turnovers myself. All ready, Barney?" "All aboard!" shouted the stage driver. "Come on. Brad. You and the Cap'n git Inside, while me and Dan git the dunnage on the rack." The boy picked up the carpet-bag and followed Mr. Small out to the rear platfoAn of the station, where the coach, an old-fashione*d, dingy vehicle, drawn by four sleepy horses, stood waiting. Captain Titcomb followed, his overcoat flapping in the wind. "Here, Barney," he observed, "have a cigar to smoke on the road. Have one, Dan? Here, Lon, here's a couple for you and Ike. Who's the little feller?" he added, in a whisper, to the station agent. "Ben Nickerson's boy from Wellmouth. He's comin' down to Orham to live with the old maids. They've adopted him." ' "The old maids? Not the old maids? Not Prissy and Tempy?" "Yup. All right, Barney; I'm comin'." The station agent hurried away to help the driver with the Captain's sea chest, and its owner, apparently overcome with astonishment, climbed mutely Into the coach, where his fellow passenger had preceded him. 14 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE The old vehicle rocked and groaned as the heavy chest was strapped on the racks behind. Then it tipped again, as Mr. Small climbed clumsily to the driver's seat. "All ashore that's goin' ashore!" shouted Mr. Small. "So long^ Dan. Git dap, Two-forty!" The whip cracked, the coach reeled on its springs, and the whole equipage disappeared in the snow and blackness. "Humph!" grunted Mr. Clark, as he peered after it. "This ain't no five-cent cigar. Might know It come from Ez TItcomb. It's a queer thing that other coastin' skippers Rave to put up with a pipe ; but that ain't Ez's style — ^no sir-ee !" "Yup," assented Mr. Bodkin, "and that ain't the only queer thing. How is It he can have such good clothes, and fetch home such nice presents and one thing or 'nother, when other fellows In the same bus'- ness can't. Oh, he's smart, all right enough ! Some folks thinks he's too smart. They say " "Some folks says he'll bear watchin'," continued Lon, puffing vigorously at the cigar. "Now, under- stand, / don't say nothin', but " "If you fellers are Intendin' to sleep here you'd better be makin' up your beds," Interrupted the station agent. "I'm goin' to shut up shop and go home." This was in the days before the Orham Branch Railroad was built, and passengers for the latter vil- lage were obliged to leave the train at Harniss and THE ORHAM STAGE 15 take the ten-mile stage ride under the guidance of Mr. Small or his partner "Labe" Lothrop. The coaches were of about the same ages as their drivers, the horses were not so very many years younger, and the roads were deeply rutted, so the home-coming mariners of Orham, no matter how smooth their sea voyages might have been, were certain of a "rough passage" during the concluding portion of their journeys. The boy, Bradley Nickerson, had never ridden in a stage j:oach before and, after ten or fifteen minutes of jolt and roll, he decided that he never wanted to ride in one again. He had chosen the middle seat, the back of which was a broad leather strap just high enough to slap him vigorously on the back of the head when he sat upright, and the cushions, from years of wear, sloped down to a sharp edge in front. If he crouched to avoid the strap, he was in danger of slid- ing off the seat altogether. It was dark inside the coach and very stuffy, and the Captain was smoking. The snow struck the win- dows as if some one was throwing it in handfuls. There was some straw on the floor, intended tawarm the feet of passengers who traveled on such nights as this, but Bradley's feet did not reach the floor, and there was a vigorous draught of fresh air coming through the door cracks. In the lulls of the wind, Mr. Small's voice was faintly heard singing "Beulah land" or swearing at the horses. Suddenly Captain Titcomb, who had been silent so far, spoke. 1 6 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE "Heavy sea on to-night," he observed. " 'Pears to me Barney'd better take a reef. She's roUin' con- sider'ble." The boy laughed and said, "Yes, sir." "Goin' all the way to Orham?" asked the Captain. "Yes, feir." ' "Got folks over there, I presume likely. Friends, or nothin' but jest relations?" "Relations, I — I guess." "So! Well, I've got a good many relations over there myself. Fact is, I've got relations, seems to me, 'most everywheres. Father used to have so many of 'em, that when he went visitin' he used to call it 'goin' cousinin'.' My name's Titcomb; what ,do they call you when your back ain't turned?" The boy laughed again, in a puzzled way — he scarcely knew what to make of his questioner — and said that his name was Bradley Nickerson. "Nickerson, hey? That settles it; you're a Cape Codder. Minute I meet anybody named Nickerson I always know they've got the same kind of sand in their boots that I have. Is it Obed Nickerson's folks you're goin' to see?" "No, sir. I'm goin' to live with Miss Priscilla Allen. Her and her sister; they was some of moth- er's people." "Sho ! well I swan !" muttered the Captain. "Prissy and Tempy, hey? Then Dan wan't foolin'. And you're goin' to live with 'em?" "Yes, sir. Do you know 'em ?" "Who — me? Oh, yes! I know 'em. I'm a THE ORHAM STAGE 17, partic'lar friend of theirs. That is," he added, cau- tiously, "I call on 'em once in a while jest to say 'How are you ?' Why ? Tou didn't hear any of them fel- lers at the depot say anything 'bout me and them, did you? No! Well, all right, I jest thought . Oh, yes ! I know 'em. Nice folks as ever was, but what you might call a little mite 'sot in their ways.' Do you always wipe your feet when you come into the house?" "Why — ^why — ^yes, sir; if I don't forget it." "All right; it's a good habit to git into, 'specially if you're goin' to walk on Prissy's floors. Some- times I've wished I could manage to put my feet in my pocket when I've been there. I wonder if I knew your father? What was his name?" Bradley told his father's name and, in response to the Captain's tactful questioning, a good deal more besides. In fact, before long Captain Titcomb knew all about the boy, where he came from, how he hap- pened to come, and all the rest. And Bradley, for his part, learned that his companion commanded the coasting schooner Thomas Doane; that he had been a sailor ever since he was fourteen; that he had a marvelous fund of sea yarns and knew how to spin them ; and that he — Bradley — liked him. By and by the Captain noticed that the boy's re- plies to his cheerful observations were growing rather incoherent, and, suspecting the reason, he ceased to talk. A few minutes later he leaned forward and smiled to find his fellow traveler, who had slipped down upon the cushion, fast asleep. Carefully he 1 8 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE drew up the boy's feet, made him more comfortable^ and taking the worn laprobe from his own knees, threw it over the sleeper. Bradley dozed on in the darkness. An hour went by, and then he was awak- ened by the coach stopping. Outside some one was yelling, "Hi, there !" at the top of his lungs. "Don't be scared, Bradley," said the Captain. "It's only foolish Sol." He lowered the upper half of the window as he spoke and Bradley saw a light zig-zagging down a bank by the roadside. As it came nearer he saw that it was a lantern In the hands of a tall man with red whiskers, who, muffled in a striped tippet and a mangy fur cap, came stumbling through the snow to the coach. "Hello, Sol!" hailed Mr. Small from the box. "What d'you want?" "Hi, there 1" said the man with the lantern. "Got any terbacker?" The stage driver produced a plug, cut off a fair- sized chunk with a big knife, and handed it down to the man. "There you be," he observed, and added, "would you b'lleve it, Sol, I kind of s'picioned you wanted terbacker when I fust heard you." "Here's a plug I brought on purpose for you, Sol," said Captain Titcomb, handing a carefully wrapped package through the open window. The man grinned, took the tobacco, and stood grin- ning and bowing as the coach went on. "That's foolish Sol Newcomb," explained Captain THE ORHAM STAGE 19 Titcomb. "His top riggin's out of gear, but he's a harmless critter. Lives off in the woods here, and there ain't a trip this coach makes, day or night, that he ain't waitin' for it, to beg terbacker. Some folk* carry a piece on purpose for him." The next time Bradley awoke, Captain Titcomb was standing on the ground by the open door of the coach. "Good night, Brad," he said. "Here's where I'm bound for. You've got a five-minute ride or so more 'fore you git to the old mai — that is, to Prissy and Tempy's. I'll see you to-morrer. You and me's goin' to be chums, you know." The door was shut; Mr. Small struck up "Camp- town Races," and the stage bumped on again. This time the boy did not sleep, but, holding on to the strap, tried to peer through the snow-crusted window. He saw a light here and there, but little else. After a short interval the coach turned a sharp corner, rolled on for perhaps twice its length, and then stopped. Mr. Small opened the door and Bradley, looking past him, saw the side of a large house, and a lighted doorway with two female figures, one plump and the other slender, standing in it. From behind them the lamplight streamed warm and bright and sent their shadows almost to his feet. "Come on, bub," said the stage driver, "here's where you git out. Miss Prissy," he shouted, "here's yonr new boarder." THE OLD MAIDS. BRADLEY, being what his late "Uncle Solon" had called a "noticin' boy," re- membered Captain Titcomb's hint con- cerning the foot wiping, and his first move, after crossing the Allen thresh- old, was to rub his worn brogans thoroughly on the home-made rope mat. After one glance about the big dining-room, however, he scoured them again, this time with even more pains and attention to detail. The plump woman, whom Mr. Small had ad- dressed as "Miss Prissy," was counting into the 20 THE "OLD MAIDS" at stage-driver's palm a sum in small change from a portentous black wallet that fastened with a strap. "Forty-five and ten is fifty-five and five is sixty," she said, "and ten is seventy and five in pennies is seventy-five. There! I b'lieve that's right, Mr. Small. Would you mind shutting the gate when you drive out? Mr. Crosby brought us a load of wood this afternoon, and I told him he needn't shut it, because you would want to come in by and by. But I shouldn't feel easy if I knew it was open all night. Thank you. Good night." "Good night," said the driver, pocketing the money with a grunt and a jingle. Like the boy, he had been very careful not to step off the mat. "Good night. Miss Tempy. Snow's lettin' up a little mite; guess 'twill be clear by mornin'. Good night. Brad." The plump lady closed the door behind him, just in time to shut out the opening notes of the "Sweet By and By." Then she dropped the hook into the staple, wound the leather strap carefully about the wallet, placed the latter in a compartment of a tall chest of drawers in the corner, turned the key upon it and put the key under the alabaster candlestick on the mantel. Then she turned to the boy, who, hold- ing his carpet-bag with both hands, still stood un- - easily on the mat, while the slim lady fidgeted in front of him. "Bradley," said the plump lady — she was dressed in some sort of black material that rustled, and wore a lace collar, jet earrings and a breastpin with a braided lock of hair in the center of it — "Bradley, 22 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE we're real glad to see you. I'm Miss Priscilla ; this is my sister, Miss Temperance." "Yes, Bradley," coincided "Miss Tempy," "we're real glad to see you." She was the younger of the two, and was gowned in what the boy learned later was her "brown poplin." Her hair was not worn plain, like her sister's, but had a little bunch of curls over each ear. She also wore a hair breastpin, but her earrings were gold. Bradley shook the extended hands. Miss Prissy's red and dimpled, and Miss Tempy 's thin and white with two old-fashioned rings on the fingers. "Won't you — ^won't you set down?" ventured Miss Tempy, after a rather awkward pause. "Why, yes, of course," said Miss Prissy, "and take your things right off — do." Bradley placed the carpet-bag on the comer of the mat, and pulled off the shabby overcoat. The jacket and trousers beneath were also shabby, but it was at his shoes that Miss Prissy glanced and, oddly enough, their condition served to break the formality. "My goodness me!" she ejaculated; "jest look at his poor feet, Tempy Allen ! Come right over to the stove this minute and take off those shoes; they're soppin' wet through." "No, ma'am," protested the boy. "They ain't, honest. They only look so." "Don't tell mel" commanded Miss Prissy. "Go right over to the stove this minute." Bradley reluctantly obeyed, stepping gingerly across the spotless oilcloth, and taking as long strides THE "OLD MAIDS" 23 as possible. It did not add to his comfort to see Miss Tempy shake the melting snow into the center of the rope mat, fold the latter carefully together, and disappear with it Into the kitchen. Miss Prissy piloted him to the chintz-covered rocker by the big "air-tight" stove. Then she pro- ceeded to unlace the patched brogans, commenting in an undertone upon the condition of the stockings beneath. "I'm 'fr^id," said Bradley, fearfully, "that I've got some snow water on your floor, ma'am." "Don't say a word! Thank goodness, your feet ain't so wet as I thought they was. Put 'em right on the rail of the stove there, while I go up to the garret and get those slippers of father's. I'll be right back." She hurried out of the room, just as her sister en- tered it by the other door. "Now set right still," said Miss Tempy, bustling about with the steaming teakettle in her hand. "I'm goin' to make you some pepper tea. There's noth- in' in the world like pepper tea when you're likely to catch cold." "Pepper tea" was a new prescription for the boy, and he watched with interest while Miss Tempy turned some milk Into a bowl, flooded It with boiling water, added a spoonful of sugar, and vigorously shook the pepper box over the mess. "There !" she said. "Now drink that, every drop. Ain't you hungry?" Bradley, with tears in his eyes — the result of the 24 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE first swallow of pepper tea— gaspingly protested that he wasn't hungry- — not very. The sight and smell of the loaded supper table were so tempting that the denial was rather half-hearted. "Not very I When did you have anything to eat last?" "Mr. Bartlett — he's the s'lectman at Welhnouth — gave me a sandwich at the depot 'fore I started, ma'am, and I bought a turnover at Harniss." "My sakes! Prissy" — to her sister, who caipe rustling in — "he hasn't et a thing but a sandwich and a turnover since mornin'." "Land!" was Miss Prissy's comment. She pro- ceeded to engulf the youngster's feet in a pair of enormous carpet slippers, the knobs and hollows un- der their faded roses showing where the toes of the late Captain Darius had found lodging. A smell of camphor pervaded the room. "Oh, don't those look like father!" sighed Miss Tempy. "How many times I've seen him in that very rocker with those slippers on, readin' his Item, and " "I'm 'fraid they ain't a very good fit," interrupted the practical Miss Prissy. "S'pose they'll stay on?" , "Yes, ma'am," said Bradley, trying to be agree- able; "they're real pretty, with flowers on 'em so." "Prissy and me gave those to father the second Christmas before he died," observed Miss Tempy, reminiscently. "He used to say he got jo much com- fort out of 'em. Yes, Prissy, I know. Now come right over to the table, Bradley, and set down." THE "OLD MAIDS" 25 "What's in that bowl?" asked her sister, sharply. Tempy Allen, have' you been roastin' that poor child's stomach out with your everlastin' pepper tea?" Miss Tempy drew herself up indignantly. "I should think you'd be ashamed to talk so, Prissy," she said, "after you've seen what pepper tea's dons for me !" "Oh, well ! 'tain't worth makin' a fuss about. Now Bradley, speak right out if there's anything you want that ain't here, won't you? We've had our sup- per. Bradley said "Yes, ma'am," obediently. Privately his firm belief was that every eatable in Orham was on that supper table. There was "marble cake" — it was misnamed so far as its texture was concerned — "two egg" cake and fruit cake from the tin box in the parlor closet. There was "beach-plum" pre- serve and crab-apple jelly, and barberries preserved with slices of sweet apple. For substantial, milk toast and potted spiced mackerel were in evidence. As a crowning delicacy there was a wicker-covered Canton china jar of preserved ginger. As the boy ate he looked about the room. It was a big room with a low ceiling, spotlessly whitewashed. The oilcloth on the floor was partially covered with braided rag mats with carpet centres. Oh the win- dow shades were wonderful tinted pictures of castles and mountains. The table was black walnut, and there were five rush-seated chairs, each in its place against the wall, and looking as if it were glued there — the sixth of the set he occupied. Then there was i6 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE the chintz-covered rocker and another rocker, painted black with a worn picture of a ship at sea on the back. There was another ship over the face of the tall wooden clock in the corner. This craft was evi- dently the "Flying Dutchman," for every time the clock ticked it rolled heavily behind a fence of tin waves, but didn't advance an inch. On the walls were several works of art, including a spatter-work motto, a wreath made of sea shells under a glass, and an engraving showing a boat filled with men, women and children and rowed by a solemn individual in his shirtsleeves, moving over a placid sheet of water to- ward an unseen port. "The name of that picture is 'From Shore to Shore,' " said the observant Miss Tempy. "You see there's the children in the bow, and the young man and his lady-love next, and the father and mother next to them, and the old folks in the stern. It's a beautiful picture — so much deep meanin' in it. There's some lovely poetry under it that you must read; all about the voyage of life. Help yourself to the preserved ginger," she added. "It came all the way from Calcutta. Father used to bring us so much of it. That ginger-jar looks so like him." Bradley began to think that the parental Allen must have been a queer-looking old gentleman. Miss Tempy continued : "Of course, father didn't bring that jar," she said. "That was one of Cap'n Titcomb's presents. He got it in New York." "Cap'n Titcomb?" repeated the boy, whose bash- THE "OLD MAIDS" 27 fulness was wearing off. "He came over in the coach with me to-night." The effect of this announcement was remarka- ble. Miss Prissy looked at Miss Tempy, and the latter returned the look. Strange to say, both col- ored. "Cap'n Titcomb?" faltered Miss Prissy. "Cap'n Ezra Titcomb ?" "Yes, ma'am. He talked to me 'most all the way. I liked him first rate." "Why — ^why, I do declare 1 I didn't know the Cap'n was expected, did you, Tempy?" "No, I'm sure I didn't!" exclaimed the flustered younger sister. "Did he — did he tell you why he was comin', Bradley?" "No, ma'am, but I heard him tell the man that drove the coach that he had shore leave for a week, 'cause his schooner was laid up for repairs. He said he knew you, though, and that he was comin' 'round to see me to-morrer." This remark caused quite as much embarrassment and agitation as that concerning the Captain's pres- ence in the coach. The two ladies again glanced hur- riedly at each other. "Goodness gracious!" exclaimed Miss Prissy, "and the settln'-room not swept and the windows not washed. I'll have to get up early to-morrer mornin'. I'm so glad I fixed that ruffle on my alpaca," she added, in an absent-minded soliloquy. "And I must finish that tidy for the sofy," said Miss Tempy, nervously. "I've only got a little more 28 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE to do on it, thank goodness! Prissy, I'm going to put an iron on ; I want to press my other collar. Did — did the Cap'n say anything more about me — us, I mean?" she added, looking at the stove. "No, ma'am, he didn't," replied the boy. "He jest asked about me, and told stories and talked." Miss Tempy seemed a little disappointed and made no comment. Her sister, too, was silent. Presently Bradley, yawned. He tried to hide it, but Miss Prissy, coming-out of her trance, saw him. "My sakes !" she exclaimed, "what are we thinkin' of, keepin' you up this way? It's after nine o'clock. Let me get the lamp. Tempy, you do up that soap- stone for his feet." She rose and went into the kitchen, returning with a brass hand lamp, while her sister removed the orna- mental top of the "air-tight" and, with a holder, took out a hot slab of soapstone, which she proceeded to wrap in several thicknesses of flannel. When this operation was completed. Miss Prissy led the way with the lamp, and the boy, doubling up his toes to keep "father's" slippers on his feet, scuf- flingly followed her through a dark hall, up a steep staircase, in the niche by the first landing of which the model of a full-rigged ship, sailing under a glass case through a sea of painted putty, caught his eye; then through another hall, cold and dark, and into a large, square sleeping room, with a high corded bedstead in the centre. "This is your room, Bradley," she said, placing the lamp on the glass-knobbed bureau. "It's pretty cold, THE "OLD MAIDS" 29 bat we've aired the bed so there won't be any damp- ness and the soapstone'U help warm up." She turned back the several layers of patchwork comforters, blankets and counterpane, and put the hot stone in the centre of the billowy feather bed. Then she fidgeted about in an embarrassed sort of way, and finally asked : "I — I s'pose you brought your nightgown with you?" "Yes, ma'am," and Bradley prodyced the ragged relic from his carpet bag. Miss Prissy took the nightgear between her finger and thumb. "My soul I" was her only comment, but its tone was all-sufficient. She disappeared, to re- turn in a moment or two with a folded flannel gar- ment in her hand. "Here's one of father's," she said. "It'll be too big for you, but you can wear it for two or three nights, and me and Tempy'U make you some new ones. Good night." The lamp made a little oasis of light in the dusky desert of "spare room." There were two or three straight-backed chairs set squarely in their places on the ingrain carpet; some wax flowers under a glass on the shelf, and a vase of dried "feather grass" on a bracket in the corner. And everything, from the blue bottles — intended to contain toilet waters — in the centre of the knitted mats on the bu- reau, to the gilt candlesticks with the dangling glass prisms, looked as if they had been just where they 30 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE now were for years and years, and would resent any intrusion on their privacy. Bradley undressed in a hurry, for the temperature of the room was like that of the Arctic region. The framed daguerreotypes on the walls — portraits of wooden-faced seafaring gentlemen in black stocks with their hair curled behind their ears, and of ladies in flowered scoop bonnets, their finger rings realistic- ally put in with gilt paint, gazed down upon him with rigid disapproval. Even after he had lost his small self in Captain Darius' camphor-scented legacy — ^the flannel nightgown — and was floundering in the depths of the feather bed, he felt that the pictured eyes were looking at him through the dark as if their owners said, indignantly, "What is a boy doing here?" The joists creaked overhead, the mice scufiled be- hind the plaster, the surf boomed in the distance, and the winter wind whined about the windows as if it, too, were asking "What is a boy doing here?" He was up early the next morning, and his dressing was a sort of jig, for it was freezing cold. From his window he could see the Orham roofs and spires, white and sparkling in the sunrise light. The long hill behind the house, sloped, a snowy stretch, to the inner inlet, which was filled with floating ice cakes. The ocean side of the outer beach was white with a dancing line of breakers, and the sea itself was a deep blue, spangled with whitecaps. When he went downstairs it was evident that things had been going on. Miss Prissy came out of THE "OLD MAIDS" 31 the sitting-room, bearing a broom, and with her "al- paca" gown covered with an apron. Miss Tempy, her curls done up in papers, was busy with the "tidy" for the sofa. Each of the sisters was nervous and excited. Miss Prissy said a stiff little grace at the breakfast table. Miss Tempy had a large cup of "pepper tea" for herself, and urged Bradley to partake, but the elder sister came to the rescue and gave him hot milk and water instead. After the meal was over and the dishes washed, Miss Prissy went out to feed the hens and Bradley went with her. The house, seen by day, was a big, square building, badly in need of paint. The roof was four-sided and sloped upward to a cupola in the centre. From its closely shut front door snow-covered box hedges in parallel lines de- fined the path to the front gate, also locked and fas- tened, and, like the front door, only used on occa- sions. There was a large tumble-down barn, with an empty pig-pen back of the house, and a hen-house and yard in the rear of the barn. Next door, to the left — on the right was a vacant field — ^was a small story and a half cottage, separated from the Allen household by a board fence. One of the boards in this fence had fallen down, and as Brad- ley, wading in Miss Prissy's wake, passed this open- ing, he saw a gii'l, apparently about his own age, open the back door of the house next door and look out at him. He wanted to ask who she was, but didn't feel well enough acquainted with his guide to do so just yet. 3i PARTNERS OF THE TIDE Just as the dozen hens and lonesome-looking rooster were fed — Miss Prissy informed him that, by and by, looking after the poultry would be one of his duties— Miss Tempy's voice was heard calling ex- citedly from the kitchen door. "Prissy!" she screamed, "Prissy! come in the; house quick ! He's comin' ; the Cap'n's comin' !" "My land !" exclaimed the elder sister, wildly, and, her dignity forgotten, she almost ran to the house, followed by Bradley, who didn't understand the cause of the excitement. "Oh, my sakes !" ejaculated Miss Tempy, as they entered the kitchen. "What made him come so early I You'll have to see him first. Prissy. I've got to fix my hair." Miss Prissy rushed into the sitting-room, wheeled a chair into place, set a tidy straight, laid the photo- graph album exactly in the center of the table instead of two inches from the edge, and patted her own hair with her hands, dodging in /front of the big gilt- framed mirror as she did so. Then, as a smart knock sounded on the dining-room door, she assumed her "company" smile and marched sedately to receive the visitor. It was Captain Titcomb who had knocked, and, after cleaning the snow from his boots on the "scraper," he entered the house, bearing two pack- ages wrapped in brown paper. "Well, Prissy," said the Captain, laying down the packages to shake hands, "how d'you do? Didn't expect to see me in this port jest now, did you?" THE "OLD MAIDS" 33 "No, indeed, Cap'n Titcomb," was the reply. "But we're real glad to see you all the same. Come right in. Take your things off. Bradley said he rode down with you in the coach last night. Dreadful storm we had, wasn't it? How's your health nowadays? Walk right into the sittin'-room. You must excuse the looks of things; I've been sweepin'." There was a good deal more, but when Miss Prissy stopped for breath, the Captain, who had thrown his cap and overcoat on a chair, replied that the storm was bad, that his health was good and that the room looked "first rate," so far as he could see. Then he held out his hand to the boy, who had seated himself on a chair close to the door, and said, cheerily: "Mornin', Brad. Well, how are you after your shake up last night? Wan't seasick after I got out, was you ?" Bradley grinned bashfully and stammered that he was "all right." "Good! We had a rugged trip comin' over, Prissy. The old coach rolled so I felt like goin' on deck and shortenin' sail. Your new boy here's goin' to make a good sailor — I can see that. Where's Tempy?" "Oh, she's upstairs for a minute. She'll be right down," answered Miss Prissy, carelessly. "Tell me what brought you home so unexpected." "Sprung a leak and had to lay the old hooker up for repairs. That's a specialty of my owners — re- pairs. They'd rather patch up for a hundred yesxs 34 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE than build new vessels. I — I — Brad, fetch me them bundles out of the dinin'-room." Bradley obediently brought the brown-paper par« eels, and the Captain handed one of them to Miss Prissy, saying: "Here's a little somethin' 1 picked up over to New York, Prissy. I thought you might like it. I ain't got much use for such things, myself." The lady took the package and began to untie the string in a nervous manner, blushing a little as she did so. "I know it's somethin' nice, Cap'n Ezra. You do bay the nicest things. It's real kind of you to re- member me this way. Oh! ain't that pretty!" The package contained a Japanese silk fan, with ivory sticks and a red tassel. Miss Prissy opened it and spread it out in her lap, exclaiming over its beauty, her face the color of the tassel. "Oh! it ain't nothin'," said the- Captain. "I did a favor for a friend of mine that's skipper of a bark- entine jest home from Hong Kong, and he gave it to me. He had some stuff he'd brought for his daugh- ter, and the duty on it would have been pretty eX' pensive, so I fixed— but never mind that. I thought maybe you'd like it to carry to church in the summer time, or somethin'. Why, hello, Tempyl How d'you do?" The younger sister entered the room, her "poplin" rustling and every curl in place. She gushingly shook the Captain's hand, and said she was so glad to see him. "Oh, Tempyl" cred Miss Prissy, "jest look at this THE "OLD MAIDS" 35 lovely fan Cap'n Titcomb brought me. Did you ever see anything so pretty?" Miss Tempy exclaimed over the fan, but somehow her enthusiasm seemed a little forced. It may be the Captain noticed this; at any rate, he picked up the second parcel and handed it to her, saying: "Here's a little somethin' I brought for you, Tempy. I don't know's you'll like it, but " Miss Tempy's present also was a fan, precisely like the other except that the tassel was pink. Miss Prissy's interest in her sister's gift was intense, but when it was discovered that in no important point were the fans dissimilar and that neither was better than its mate, both of the ladies appeared to be a trifle disappointed, although they tried not to show it. "We're so glad you've come, Cap'n," said Miss Prissy, after the fans were laid on the table. "We've got so many things to talk to you about, and we want to ask your advice. Bradley, don't you think' you'd like to go out into the dinin'-room a little while?" The boy, acting upon this decided hint, went into the dining-room, and Miss Prissy shut the door after him. "Now, Cap'n Titcomb," she began, "I s'pose you were awfully surprised to hear we'd took a boy to bring up ? Well, you ain't any more surprised than we are to think we should do such a thing. But it seemed as if we jest had to, or else give up bein' Christians altogether. I'll tell you how it was." And she did tell him, beginning with the exact re- lationship between Brr.dley's mother and the Aliens, 36 PJRTNERS OF THE TIDE expatiating upon the shiftlessness of the boy's father and how he "never saved a cent," nor even took out an insurance policy to provide for his son, in case of his own death. "Father," she continued, "lost all patience with Ben years before he died and we didn't write nor any- thing. Fact is, we didn't know about the boy at all, until we read in the papers about Sophia and Ben's bein' lost when his vessel was wrecked. Leavin' the poor little chap in Solon Nickerson's care was another proof of Ben's carelessness. It's wrong to speak ill of the dead, but Solon was the worst good-for-nothin' ! It's a mercy that the Lord took him before he'd had a chance to ruin the boy entirely. Well, Tempy and me have set up nights and talked and talked and talked, but we couldn't see but one right thing to do, so we did it. But, mercy me !" she exclaimed, lifting her hands, "what on earth we'll do with a boy is more'n / know. What shall we do?" "Bring him up in the way he ought to go, I guess," replied the Captain, calmly. "Send him to school, first thing." "There, Prissy I" exclaimed Miss Tempy, "that's what / said. Send him to school, and then to high school, and then to college. Wesleyan College is a nice quiet place, and so many ministers come from there that they'll probably teach him to be a minister. Then, by that time, Mr. Langworthy'U be pretty old and he'll be givin' up the church here and Bradley can take it. I always wished we had a minister in the family." THE "OLD MAIDS" yf "Sakes alive!" snapped her sister, irnpatiently, "seems to me you're countin' your chickens a good ways ahead. Mr. Langworthy might die to-morrer for all you know, or the society might bust up or 'most anything. Besides, it'll cost somethin' for all that education." "Of course it will," said Miss Tempy, "but there's father's insurance money." "How long do you think " began Miss Prissy,' but stopped in the middle of the sentence. ' "Well," said Captain Titcomb, diplomatically, "he'll go to school for a while, at any rate, and he might as well begin right away. How is he off for clothes?" he added. ' "Hasn't got any that are fit for anything but the rag-bag," replied Miss Prissy, with decision. "And that's another thing. Who's goin' to buy *em for him? I'm sure / don't know what a boy heeds to wear any more than a cat. And he's got to have everything. I jest wish you'd have seen that — that thing he was goin' to sleep in," she added. "I'll buy his fit-out, if you want me to," said the Captain. "Take him down to Weeks' store right now, if you say the word." "Oh! I wish you would. You pay Mr. Weeks and I'll pay you." "Get him nice clothes, Cap'n Ezra," said Miss Tempy. "The men in our family have always been good dressers." "Get sensible ones that'll wear," said the practical 3 8 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE Miss Prissy. "Not any more expensive than is neces- sary, but good." They pressed the Captain to stay to dinner, or, at least, to return for that meal, but he declined, prom- ising, however, to dine with them before he went back to his vessel. "Come on, Brad," he said, entering the dining- room, "you and me's goin' on a cruise down town. Want to go?" Of course the boy wanted to go. He had been spending his time in the dining-room reading the poetry beneath the "Shore to Shore" picture and in spelling out the framed certificate over the mantel, which testified that "Darius Allen, Master," was a member of the Boston Marine Society. Bradley put on the shabby overcoat and cap for the last time, and walked down to the back gate and along the sidewalk with the Captain. "Well, Brad," said the latter, "how do you like your new folks?" "First rate, sir," said the boy. "Pretty old-fashioned craft, but seaworthy, both of 'em. Did you remember to wipe your feet?" he added, with a twinkle in his eye. "Yes, sir." They walked on without speaking for a while, then Bradley, wishing to please his companion, said : "Those fans were awful pretty. I s'pose you brought 'em both alike so Miss Prissy nor Miss Tempy wouldn't think you liked one more than the other, didn't you?" THE "OLD MAIDS" 39 Captain Titcomb stopped short, and looked down at the lad with wonder in his face. "Say, Bradl" he exclaimed, "how old are yon?" *'Goin' on thirteen, sir." "Goin' on thirteen," repeated the Captain, slowly. "Coin' on thir Well, by crimustee ! you've got a head on you. If you're goin' to turn so sharp as Say, son, I cal'late you and me was cut out to sail together." He continued to mutter to himself and to chuckle all the way to the store, greatly to Bradley's aston- ishment, for, for the life of him, the boy couldn't see that he had said anything so wonderfully brilliant. And, meanwhile, Miss Tempy seated in the rocker by the window and holding a fan in each hand, was examining them with the greatest care. "Prissy," she said, at last, in a solemn tone, "they're jest exactly alike." "Yes," said her sister, with a stifled sigh, "they're jest alike." ^^■^ CHAPTER III. THE DOG GIRL. N "Weeks' Store" was to be found an assort- ment of wares ranging from potatoes and razors to molasses arid ladies' dress goods. Somewhere within this extensive range was a limited supply of what Mr. Weeks' advertise- ment in the Item called, "Youths', Men's and Children's Clothing in Latest Styles at Moderate Prices." The styles were "late" — about a year late — and the prices were moderate when the lengthy period of credit given to customers is taken into considera- tion. Captain Titcomb, exchanging greetings with the 4.0 THE "DOG GIRL" 41 half dozen loungers by the stove, whose business there was, as Mr. Weeks himself said, "to swap bad tobacco smoke for heat," passed to the rear of the store, followed by Bradley. There he proceeded to select an entire outfit for the boy, calculated to clothe him in successive layers, from the skin outward. When the pile of garments on the counter was com- plete, the captain and Mr. Weeks entered into a lengthy argument concerning pcice. There was a "Sunday hat" involved in the transaction, and about this piece of headgear the battle raged fiercest. "It's too much money, Caleb," said the Captain, finally. "I guess I'll try the 'New York Store.' Tom Emery's always treated me fair enough, and I'll give him a chance. Come on. Brad." "I'll take off a quarter on the suit," conceded the storekeeper, who was loth to see so much custom go to a rival. "No," was the reply. "That ain't enough to amount to anything. Tell you what I'll do, Caleb. Throw in that Sunday hat and I'll take the lot and pay you cash for it, and run my risk of gittin' the money." So the bargain was concluded on that basis. Brad- ley retired to the back room, and emerged clothed in his new garments and tremendously conscious of the fact. The Captain said he looked so fresh that you could "smell the paint on him." "Say, Caleb," said "Squealer" Wixon, after Cap- tain Titcomb and his protege had left the premises, "did Ez tell you who that boy was ?" 42 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE "No, he didn't. I hinted two or three times, but he wouldn't say." "Well, I'll tell you. 'Twas the old maids' boy- Ben Nickerson's son. Barney said he brought him over in the coach last night." "You don't mean it!" exclaimed the chopfallen Mr. Weeks. "Well, if that ain't enough to Ez made me throw in a hat that was wuth a dollar 'n' a ha'f 'cause he said he'd pay cash for everything and take his chance of gittin' his money back. And Prissy and Tempy always pay cash for everything. Reg'lar Titcomb trick!" The loafers about the stove roared with de- light. "Oh, I tell you," remarked "Squealer," "you've got to keep your weather eye peeled when you're dealin' with Cap'n Ez. He'll have you, head and scales, if you ain't careful." "That's all right," grumbled "Bluey" Bacheldor, "but he'll git fetched up all standin' some of these days. You can call him smart if you want to, but it's pretty risky smartness, most folks think. You notice his schooner's always makin' 'record trips,' and he's always havin' presents give him, and all that. How many presents did you have give to you, Cap'n Jabez, when you was runnin' a coaster?" "Not a one," indignantly replied the person ad- dressed, Captain Jabez Bailey. "Not a one. What I got I had to work for." It may be that Captain Jabez overworked during his sea experiences. Certainly no one in Orham had THE "DOG GIRL" 43 known him to do a stroke of work since he retired to live on his wife's earnings as a dressmaker. "Well," commented Captain Eri Hedge, who was not a member of the circle, but had dropped in to buy some tobacco, "I h'ke Cap'n Ez. He does love to git the best of a bargain, and he's a 'driver' on a ves- sel, and perhaps he likes to shave the law pretty close sometimes. Ez is a reg'lar born gambler for takin' chances, but I never knew him to do a mean trick." "What do you call that game he put up on the old maids?" asked "Squealer." "You knew 'bout that, didn't you, Jabez ? Seems Prissy and Tempy wanted to sell that little piece of cranb'ry swamp of theirs, 'cause it didn't pay them to take care of it and keep it in shape. Prissy told Seth Wingate about it and Seth said he didn't want it, but that he'd give 'em so and so — a fair price, consid'rin'. Well, they was goin' to sell it to Seth, but Ez comes home 'bout that time, hears of the deal and goes to Prissy and buys It for fifty dollars more'n Seth offered. And inside of three months along comes that Ostable Company and buys all that land for their big swamp. They say Titcomb made more'n a hundred dollars out of that deal. If you don't think that's a mean trick, Cap'n Eri, you ask Seth Wingate what he thinks of It." ' "I know about that," said Captain Eri, calmly; "and I think it was jest another case of Ez's takin' chances, that's all. Seth's growlin' is only sour grapes. Ez knew the Ostable folks was talkin' 'bout layin' out a big swamp over here some time or other. He jest bought the Allen piece and run his risk. You 44 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE notice Prissy and Tempy ain't findin' no fault. They think he's the only man in town. Fact is, he is the only man, outside of the minister, that they'll have any dealin's with. Queer pairin' off that is — Ez and the minister!" he chuckled. "Oh, women's fools, anyhow," snorted Captain Jabez, savagely. "Ez Titcomb always could wind 'em 'round his fingers. He's been next door to keep- in' comp'ny with more girls'n a few in this town sence he was old enough to leave school. But he don't go fur enough to git engaged or nothin' like that. Minute there's any talk that he's likely to git married to one of 'em, away goes Ez, and that's the end of that courtin'. And yet, spite of their talk 'bout his bein' slick, and hints that he's tricky, they're always heavin' up to a feller, 'How smart Cap'n Tit- comb is,' and 'Why don't you make money same as Cap'n Ezry ?' 'Nough to make an honest man sick." Captain Eri made his purchases and went home, but the others continued to dissect Ezra Titcontb's character, and the general opinion seemed to be that he would "bear watchin'." Meanwhile the Captain, unconscious of all this, piloted Bradley to the corner of the road upon which the Allen sisters lived, and there left him with a mes- sage to the effect that he — the Captain — would call next day. Then he sought his room at the "Travel- er's Rest," there to read the paper of the day before; while the boy, with his big bundle of old clothes and new "extras," walked homeward alone. THE "DOG GIRL" 45 The Allen house was on the "lower road," and to reach it you turned the corner just above "Web" Saunders' billiard room and went on past "Lem" Mullett's stable, and the Methodist "buryin' ground" — the sects in Orham cannot, apparently, agree even after they are dead, for each denomination has its separate cemetery — past the late Captain Saunders' estate and on up the hill overlooking the bay. Brad- ley had just reached the little house next door to the Aliens, when, through the side gate of its yard, there darted a small, ragged-looking dog, barking as if it went by steam. It was followed by a big dog, also barking, and this in turn was followed by another and still another. None of the animals was hand- some and none looked as if it was good for much except to bark, but each seemed to feel that it was its special duty to devour the boy before the others got a chance at him. 'On they came, a noisy procession, growling and snapping. Bradley put down his bundle and looked about for a stone, but the snow covered the road and there were no stones in sight. He poised himself on one foot and held the other ready for a kick. The dogs formed a circle about him and the racket was blood- curdling. Out of the gate darted a slim girl in a red dress, brandishing a broom. "They won't hurt you !" she screamed, running to the rescue. "Stop it, Peter! Be quiet. Rags! Go home, Tuesday ! Winfield, I'll give it to you!" The dogs dodged the broom and retired to a safe 46 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE distance, wagging their tails and doing their best to indicate that they were only making believe, anyhow. "Winfield," the small dog that had led the attack, was the most persistent, and he snapped at the broom in high glee, evidently considering that it was waved for his particular amusement. "They got away before I could stop 'em," panted the girl. "Grandma's gone to the store and I went out in the woodshed to play with 'em, and they bounced out of the door first thing. They don't mean anything; they're just full of it, that's all." "I wasn't scared," said Bradley. "I didn't believe they'd bite. I like dogs." "Do you?" said the girl, eagerly. "So do I. Grandma says she does, too, in moderation. The old maids don't, though. Oh, I forgot. You're the old maids' boy, ain't you? I saw you out in their yard with Miss Prissy this mornin'." "Yes, I saw you, too. You live in here, don't you?" "Um-hum. Oh, my goodness ! I haven't got any rubbers on, and grandma said if I got my feet wet to-day she didn't know but she'd skin me. I must go right back and dry 'em before she comes. I've had a cold; that's why I ain't to school. How'U I ever get these dogs in?" "I'll help you if you want me to," volunteered Bradley. "Will you? That's splendid. Come on !" Bradley carried his bundle to the back steps of the little house and then returned to assist at the dog- THE "DOG GIRL" 47 catching. It wasn't an easy operation, but a tin dish, scientifically rattled by his new acquaintance, tempted all but the wary "Winfield," ahd a bone finally de- coyed the latter inside the woodshed, and the door was slammed and bolted upon the humbugged pack^ "There!" exclaimed the girl, "that's all right. I hope grandma won't notice the tracks in the snow. If she's only forgot her glasses it's all right. Now come into the kitchen till I put my feet in the oven. What's your name ?" "Bradley Nickerson. Most folks call me Brad." "That's a good name. My last name's Baker. I hate my first one — it's Augusta. Ain't that the worst? Grandma calls me 'Gusty.' Ugh ! You can call me 'Gus' if you want to; it sounds more like a boy'^ name. I wish I was a boy." "Why?" "Oh, because a boy can do things, and doesn't have to be 'ladylike.' If I was a boy nobody would think it was funny for me to like dogs, and I could have as many as I wanted." "I should think you had a good many now. Where did you get 'em all?" "Oh, just found 'em. Rags came here one day himself. I call him Rags because he looks as if he was all ravellin's. And Peter, the blacksmith gave to me. Said I could have him if I'd get him out of his sight. He sort of named himself. And Tues- day was named that because I found him on Tuesday when I was on a picnic over to East Harniss. And Winfield — he's the newest one — came on Cap'n Bur- 48 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE gess' fishing schooner and nobody wanted him, so they gave him to nie. I named him Winfield because his face looks hke our school-teacher — Winfield Scott Daniels; hateful old thing! Wouldn't he be mad if he knew I named a dog after him ! You're goin' to school, ain't you?" "I s'pose so. They haven't said anything about it yet." "I hope you will. You'll be upstairs, of course." "Upstairs" means, in Orham, the grammar and higher grades. "Downstairs" is the primary depart- ment. Bradley answered that he supposed he should be "upstairs." He was just beginning to go "up- stairs" in Wellmouth. "How do you like the old maids — Miss Prissy and Tempy, I mean. Ain't they awful strict?" "I don't know; I haven't been with 'em long enough to find out. They're mighty clean, ain't they?" "Oh, dreadful! And they don't like a noise and they don't like dogs and they don't like me. They call me the 'dog girl' ; I heard 'em. One time I went in there for grandma, and Tuesday and Peter fol- lowed me and, first thing you know, they tracked mud all over the dinin'-room. My ! but wasn't Miss Prissy mad! But you just ought to have seen that floor," she chuckled. Bradley thought of the spotless oilcloth and ap- preciated the situation. In the course of the conver- sation that followed, he learned that Gus was an orphan like himself, and that she lived there alonf THE "DOG GIRL" 49 with her grandmother. Suddenly the girl snatched her steaming shoes out of the oven to run to the window. "I thought I heard the gate shut," she exclaimed. "Yes, it's grandma. P'raps you'd better dodge out of the other door. She'll ask questions and find out about my feet if you don't. Good-by; p'raps I'll see you at school to-morrow." Bradley picked up his bundle — he had brought it in with him — and slipped out of the side door, pre- senting himself, a moment later, in the glory of his new clothes, to the critical gaze of the "old maids." And it was critical. For the next twenty minutes the boy sympathized with the wooden gentleman with the beautiful painted mustache whose business it was to stand before the "general store" at Wellmouth, with a placard attached to his coat bearing the words, "This style $8.50." He stood in the centre of the dining-room while the sisters walked in a circle about him and verbally picked him to pieces, bit by bit. Miss Prissy 's final verdict was that the garments were "real neat and sensible." Miss Tempy was not so enthusiastic. "They are nice and neat," she said, "but don't you think they might be a little more stylish? Blue's a nice solid color for the jacket, but if he had some dif- ferent pants, seems to me 'itwould set it off more. You remember those plaid pants of father's, don't you, Prissy? Still, I s'pose the Cap'n knows best." "Of course he does," replied her sister, crisply. *'There isn't a nicer-dressed man than Cap'n Titcomb so PARTNERS OF THE TIDE around — that is, except the doctor and Mr. Lang- worthy, and they have to wear Sunday clothes all the time. Besides, we can make over some of father's things for him, by and by, if we want to." So Miss Tempy expressed herself as satisfied. As a final aristocratic touch, she brought from the trunk in the garret a large-figured silk handkerchief which, tucked carefully into the breast pocket of Bradley's jacket, with the corner artistically draped outside, was pronounced "just the thing." At half-past four that afternoon the sisters con- voyed the new member of their household to the boarding place of the school-teacher, Mr. Daniels, in order to arrange for the boy's entering school next day. This expedition was a very formal affair. Both of the ladies were arrayed in their best, with bonnets that were the height of fashion ten years before, and "dolmans" that Miss Tempy "made over" religiously each fall. Miss Prissy, the business manager, in- spected every window and door to be sure they were locked, and she carried with her a large carpet-bag — much like Bradley's — the sole contents of which were three extra handkerchiefs, the back-door key and the wallet with the leather strap. Mr. Daniels received them graciously, and condescended to say that he should expect the new pupil the following morning. When Bradley started for school the next day his head was ringing with instructions from the "old maids" concerning his behavior and attention to his studies. THE "DOG GIRL" 51 "Now be a good boy, Bradley," said Miss Prissy. "Yes, Bradley," said Miss Tempy. "Remember, we expect a great deal of you. All our people have been smart scholars." Just as he turned into the "main road," he heard someone calling, and turned to see his acquaintance of yesterday, the girl next door, running to catch up, her hood slipped back from her hair and a dented tin pail in her hand. Being a girl, Gus carried her noon luncheon during the winter months, instead of coming home to eat it. "Oh!" she panted, "I'm all out of breath. I saw you go past the house and knew you was goin' to school, so I just fairly flew after you. You're goin' upstairs, aren't you? Did you see old Daniels?" "Yes, I saw him. He's a cross-lookin' chap. Is he strict?" "You bet he is ! Give you checks if you whisper, and ten checks means stay in recess for a week. I've only got five so far. Don't you think he looks like Winfield — ^my dog, I mean ? I had such a time with that dog just now. He was following me and I had to dVive him back. He went under the shed and hid, but goodness knows how long he'll stay there." On the way to school they met another girl whom Gus introduced as Clara Hopkins, a "chum" of hers. "She's tip-top; I sit with her. She's got 'most as many checks as I have," was her recommendation. "Upstairs" at the schoolhouse was a large room with rows of double desks on each side and a wide aisle in the centre. One side of the aisle was the 52 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE "girls' side," and the other was for the boys. Mr. Daniels stiffly shook hands with the new scholar, asked him some questions concerning his progress in his studies, and showed him where he should sit. The more advanced pupils occupied the desks at the rear of the room, and the younger ones — Bradley among them — sat in front. Bradley's seat mate was an older boy than he, rather good-looking, with curly hair. His name, so he whispered before school be- gan, was Sam Hammond. "We will come to order," commanded Mr. Dan- iels, with dignity. "Position!" Each scholar folded his or her arms and sat back in the seat. "I will read," said the teacher, "from the Scrip- tures." He did so, concluding as follows : "Amen. Sec- ond class in spelling." The second class in spelling took its place upon the settees at the rear of the room and proceeded to spell words as given out by Mr. Daniels, following each spelling by a definition and a sentence containing the word. One tall, gawky chap with red hair was given the word "Aspire." "Aspire," he shouted. "A-s-p-I-r-e, Aspire — to aim. The man will aspire the gun at the bird." The school tittered, and Mr. Daniels pounded his desk with the ruler. "Ye-es," he drawled, with with- ering sarcasm, "that is delightful. What a shock for the bird I" THE "DOG GIRL" 53 "It said it meant 'to aim high' in the dictionary," protested the red-haired one. "The dictionary is intended to be used by human beings, not calves," was the crushing reply. "Sit down, Bossy." The tall boy sat down with alacrity, while the school shouted at the official joke. "Bossy !" whispered Bradley's seat mate. "That's Tim Bloomer. Ain't he a sculpin?" "Samuel Hammond," observed Mr. Daniels, "two checks for whispering." At recess Bradley went out on the playground ior a little while, but he felt rather lonesome among so many strangers, and so returned to the schoolroom. It was empty, the teacher taking his customary "con- stitutional" in the yard. After a few minutes Gus came bounding in. "Why, Brad !" she exclaimed, "where've you been? I've been lookin' for you. Why didn't you come on out?" "Oh, I don't know," replied the boy. "I don't know any of the fellers yet." "Well, you're goin' to know 'em. Oh, my good- ness! mnfield!" The stub-tailed dog sat panting at her feet, three inches of red tongue hanging from its mouth. "You naughty, naughty dog!" cried Gus, almost in tears. "How dare you ! Go home this minute !" "Go home, Winfield!" commanded Bradley, com- ing to the rescue. Winfield had gone home by the shed route, already 54 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE that morning, and didn't propose to do it again. When his mistress tried to catch him, he retreated to a safe distance and wagged his tail. "Oh, what shall we do?" wailed Gus. "Recess is 'most over, and if Mr. Daniels finds him here, I don't know what'll happen !" Bradley made a dash at the dog and the latter started on the run about the room. At length they drove him out the "boys' door" only to have him reappear through the "girls' door" at the other side. Finally, being penned in with both doors shut and thoroughly frightened, he dashed into the closet which was between the doors, and hid behind the woodbox. "Now," said Gus, exultantly, "you watch that he don't get out, and I'll crawl in after him. Oh, my goodness! there's Mr. Daniels comin' now." The cowhide boots of the teacher were heard on ^he stairs. Bradley, in desperation, shut the closet door upon the imprisoned Winfield. Mr. Daniels stepped to the rope in the entry and gave it a pull. The bell above responded with a single note, and the scholars began to pour up the stairs. "We will come to order," commanded the teacher. Bradley, glancing across the aisle at Gus, saw that she was as white as the whitewashed wall. "First class in arithmetic," said Mr. Daniels, and thefl, from the closet, came a long, dismal whine. The "first class in arithmetic" stopped in its tracks and looked aghast. The whole school — ^with two THE "DOG GIRL" 55 exceptions — pricked up its ears. The exceptions trembled. "Ow-wow-wowl" came from the closet. Mr. Daniels strode across the floor and opened the door. "Whose dog is this?" he demanded, sternly. No one answered. "Come out of that !" commanded the teacher, sav- agely. He reached behind the woodbox and, seizing the cowering Winfield by the "scruff" of the neck, tossed him into the room. "Whose dog is this?" he repeated. Most of the scholars knew whose dog it was, but none of them told. "I asked a question 1" thundered the master. "Who put that — that creature in the closet?" ■ Bradley looked at his fellow-conspirator. Then he held up his hand. "I did," he said. Mr. Daniels' mouth opened in surprise. New pupils did not usually begin in this way. > 'Tom did?" he gasped. "Yes, sir. He fol I mean he came into the room when 'twas recess, and we — I tried to put him out and he wouldn't go." "So you shut him in the closet. Brilliant youth! As this is your first day here, I suppose I must stretch a point and believe it was not done on purpose. If it had been any other of the scholars, I should have made an example of 'em. I am surprised that you should treat your little brother" (appreciative titter from the school) "in such a manner. You may put him out." 56 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE It was easy enough to command, but not so easy to do. The dog, frightened at the crowd, backed away when Bradley approached. "Come here, Winfield," said the boy, his face a bright crimson. The school giggled at the name. "Winfield?" repeated Mr. Daniels. "Why that name, if you please?" "I — I don't know, sir." "You don't know?" "No, sir." And then the boy had a happy thought. "He's named after Gen'ral Hancock, I guess." General Winfield Scott Hancock, in his role of statesman, was very much in the public eye just at this time. Mr. Daniels hesitated. He more than sus- pected the dog's real namesake, but he wasn't sure, and, being a weak man, was afraid of making a mis- take. "Well, put the creature out!" he snarled, and then, losing his temper and aiming a kick at the? dog, he commanded, "Git out, you brute!" That kick was a mistake. Winfield wasn't used to kicks, and this one scattered his doggish senses com- pletely. He started on a "panicky, yelping flight, hotly pursued by Bradley. Down the aisle by the "boys' side," across the back of the room amongst the feet of the "first class in arithmetic" and up the aisle by the "girls' side" sped the chase. ' At the end of the second lap the entire school was in an uproar. THE "DOG GIRL" 57 Mr. Daniels, white with rage, took a hand iiv the pursuit and his efforts and those of two o-r three more volunteers only made matters worse. At length the dog, hemmed in on both sides, hesi- tated in the middle of the broad aisle. Suddenly he darted toward the closet once more. Mr. Daniels leaped to intercept him, tripped, struck the stool upon which the bucket of drinking water was placed and sprawled upon the floor In the centre of a miniature flood, while Winfield, leaping over him, darted through the entry and down the staitu, a shrieking maniac. The dripping Mr. Daniels was physically cool, but mentally very warm indeed. "Checks" were distrib- uted with liberality and two boys were "feruled" be- fore twelve o'clock came. One of these sufferers was Bradley's seat mate, Sam Hammond. Bradley went home alone. When the "old maids" asked him innumerable questions concerning how he "got along" at school, he simply answered "All right" and gave no details. Miss Tempy was some- what worried at his silence and confided to her sister the fear that he had been "studyin' too hard." "AK our people have been dreadful keen students," she said. It was nearly one o'clock when the boy re-entered the schoolyard. As he did so a shout went up fron. a group near the fence. "Here he is!" yelled one of the older boys. "Here's your beau, Gus. He won't let 'em plague his girl, you bet!" 58 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE "No," shouted Sam Hammond. " 'Gusty's all right now, ain't she ? He'll take care of her. " 'Gusty had a little dog. It's fleece was black's a crow " "You shut up !" screamed Gus, breaking from the circle, and stamping her foot savagely. Her face was red and there were tears in her eyes. "It followed her to school one day," continued the tormentor. "What's the matter, Gus ?" asked Bradley, coming up. "Haw, haw!" laughed Sam, gleefully. "I told you so. Bradley'U take care of her. "Bradley Nickerson, so they say, Goes a-courtin' night and day; Sword and pistol by his side. And 'Gusty Baker'U be his bride. "What's the matter, Gus?" he a^ded, mockingly. "What is the matter?" repeated Bradley. "None of your bus'ness 1" snapped Gus, who was in no mood to be friendly with any one. "You jest wait, Sam Hammond! I'll fix you! Got whipped in school ! Ha, ha ! Cry baby !" And she gave an exaggerated imitation of her enemy's facial contor- tions during the "feruling" that morning. "Come on, Gus," interposed Clara Hopkins. "He isn't worth talkin' to. Come on, I've got somethin' to show you." THE "DOG GIRL" 59 Gus reluctantly suffered herself to be led away amid the derisive hootings of Sam and his friends. "Ain't you goin' with her?" asked Sam, provok- ingly. "She wants her Braddy, so's to take care of her if Winfield comes to school again." Bradley's temper was slow to rise, but it was rising now. "^Vho are you talkin' to?" he demanded. "You. Who do you s'pose?" "Well, you'd better shut up." "I had? S'pose I don't want to?" "Then I'll make you— that's whatl" "You will?" "Yes, I will." "You ain't the size. Take's a man, not a monkey." "I'll show you whether I'm the size or not." "You will?" "Aw, gee!" said one of the bigger boys. "I wouldn't take that from no Wellmouth kid, if I was you, Sam." "Nor I, neither," said another. Thus encouraged, Sam bristled up to his opponent and looked down at him sneeringly. Bradley didn't give way an inch, and the two boys rubbed jackets as they moved slowly about each other. The surround- ing group looked delightedly expectant. "Stop your shovin' !" commanded Sam, giving his enemy a push with his shoulder. "Stop yourself," said Bradley, pushing back. "I'll put a head on you so's the old maids won't know you." 6o PARTNERS OF THE TIDE "I'll niake you snivel worse'n you did in school this "Well, Sam!" exclaimed a spectator, in huge dis- gust; " 'fore I'd take that!" The Hammond boy did not really want to fight, but, thus goaded, he suddenly gave Bradley a violent push with both hands. The next instant both young- ters were clasped tightly together, gripping each other about the neck and wrestling savagely. In a moment they fell with a thump and rolled over and over, poundingi kicking and scratching. The snow flew and the crowd whooped and pushed and strained to see better. Then there was a rush, a frightened scurry, and both combatants were pulled apart and jerked to their feet, while Mr. Daniels, holding each by the coat col- lar, glared down upon them. "You may come with me," he said, with chilling calmness. The scene in the schoolroom that followed was brief but exciting. Bradley held out his hand and bit his lip stubbornly while the ferule descended — once — twice — twelve times. "There !" said the teacher. "Now you may take your seat. For a new scholar you begin extremely well. Now, Samuel!" The Hammond hand having received its share of beating, Snd its owner also sent to his seat, Mr. Daniels said : "Both of you will lose your afternoon recess. I shall also give each of you a note, telling of your punishment, to take home." THE "DOG GIRL" 6i At half-past four that afternoon, Bradley, with the note tightly clasped in his hand, walked dismally up the walk to the Alien back door. The thought that he had disgraced himself forever in the eyes of his protectors burned like a fire under his new cap. Also, there was a bitter feeling that Gus, the cause of all his trouble, had not been near him to console or ask pardon. It was typical of the boy that he had not thought of destroying the note. He handed it to Miss Prissy the moment he opened the door. She read it and sat heavily down in the chintz rocker. "My soul and body I" she wailed. "Tempy Allen, come here this minute ! Here ! for mercy's sake read this!" Miss Tempy's agitation was even i|iore marked than that of her sister, "Oh, oh, oh!" she cried, waving the condemning sheet of paper like a distress signal, "How could you! how could you! I don't b'lieve a relation of the Aliens was ever whipped in school before. What shall we do. Prissy And his first day, too!" Bradley, with direful thoughts of self-destruction in his mind, twisted his new cap into a ball, but said nothing. "He says you were fightin' and there was somethin' else," said Miss Prissy. "Tell the whole story now, every word." The boy began slowly. He told of shutting the dog in the closet, but was interrupted by the older sister, who demanded to know whose dog it was. 62 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE "Whose was it?" she asked. "Why don't you an- swer? Don't you know?" "Yes'm." "Then whose was it?" Bradley shifted his feet uneasily on the mat. "I ain't goin' to tell," he muttered, sullenly. "Ain't goin' to tell? Why, I nev " She was interrupted. The door behind Bradley flew open and Gus appeared, tearful but determined. "Miss Prissy and Miss Tempy," she began, "don't you scold Bradley! Don't you now, a bit. It was all my fault, every mite of it. Oh, dear, dear I" And with sobs and amid the ejaculations of the astonished sisters, she told the whole story, omitting nothing and sparing herself not the least. When the recital was finished. Miss Prissy was the first to com- ment upon it. "Well!" she exclaimed. "This is the most— I never did There, Tempy ! if this ain't a lesson in keepin' bad comp'ny, then / don't know. Augusty, you'd better go home, I think." Gus looked at Bradley appealingly, then at the sisters, and, with another burst of sobs, flung herself out of the door and slammed it behind her. "That awful dog girl!" sputtered Miss Tempy. "I knew what she was from the time she spoiled this very floor with her dreadful critters. Bradley Nick- erson, don't you ever speak to her again. Now promise." ,But that promise the boy would not make, al- THE "DOG GIRL" 63 though the argument lasted for an hour, and ended in his being sent to his room without his supper. "It looks to me," said Miss Prissy that night, "as if we'd got about as much on our hands as you and me could handle, Tempy." "It certainly does," agreed her sister, nervously. "I think it's our duty to ask Cap'n Titcomb's advice right off." CHAPTER IV. THE "LAST DAY." WHEN the Captain called, which he did the next forenoon, the tale of Bradley's event- ful first day at school was told him in all its harrowing completeness. Miss Prissy — ^by previ- ous agreement — acted as story-teller, and Miss Tempy was a sort of chorus, breaking in every few moments to supply a neglected detail, or comment on a particular feature. "And we didn't know what to do," concluded Miss Prissy. "He wan't goin' to tell us whose dog it was, and » 64 THE "LAST DAY" 65 "I don't b'lleve he ever would have told," broke In Miss Tempy, "if that 'dog girl' herself hadn't come bouncin' in, and " "And he won't promise not to speak to her again, neither," continued the older sister. "We sent him to bed without any supper " "That is, any real supper," Interrupted the chorus. "Of course we took up some cookies and things when we fpund he wouldn't come down, but " "And he won't promise this morhin', and he went to school without promisin'. What do you think we ought to do, Cap'n Titcomb?" "Yes, Cap'n," Miss Tempy joined in the appeal. "What do you think we ought to do?" "Well," replied the Captain — he had listened to the recital with a very solemn face, but there was a twinkle In his eye — "well, I don't know. It makes me think of what the old man — dad, I mean — said to me once, when I was a little shaver 'bout Brad's age. The old man was a great feller for horses and, when he give up goin' to sea, he used to always have two or three horses 'round the place, and there was gln'rally a colt to be broke. You never had much dealln's with colts, I s'pose?" "No," answered Miss Tempy, thoughtfully. "Long's father lived we kept a horse — Dexter was his name — but I s'pose he wasn't really what you'd call a colt." Captain Ezra — he remembered the ancient and wheezy Dexter — gravely agreed that the latter was not precisely a colt. 66 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE "Well," he continued, "I always thought I was pretty nigh as smart as the next feller, and I was for- ever teasin' the old man to let me break one of the colts. Finally he let me try it. After I'd had a lively ten minutes or so, and was roostin' heels up in a snarl of rosb'ry bushes, with the colt grinnin' at me, so's to speak, over the stone wall, the old man come loafin' up, and he says: " 'Ez,' he says, 'what you doin', — restin' ? Better git up, hadn't you, and take another try ? The colt's ready,' he says. "I stopped picking the rosb'ry briars out of my face, and tried to grin, and told him that I guessed I'd had enough, " 'Oh!' says he, 'you mustn't talk that way. It's a mutual breakin',' he says, 'and you and the colt are jest gittin' used to one another's little ways.' "P'raps that's the way 'tis here," continued the Captain. "Brad and you two ladies are jest gittin' used to each other's little ways. Of course you must remember it is only a colt you're handlin'. I think the boy's aU right, and I don't object to his stickin' by those that he thinks stuck by him. Par's the girl's concerned, she always struck me as a pretty trim little craft." "She's noisy and a tomboy," said Miss Prissy, de- cidedly. "Yes," said Miss Tempy; "and she likes those dreadful dogs." "Um--^hum," answered their visitor, with unim- peachable seriousness. "Of course that's a terrible THE "LAST DAY" 67 drag, but maybe she'll cut 'em adrift when she gits older; she's only a colt, too," he added. "Well, we don't like her," said Miss Prissy, with decision. "And we wish you'd speak to Bradley about it. You know," she added, looking down, "I put a lot of dependence in your judgment, Cap'n Titcomb." "So do I," said Miss Tempy, quickly; "jest as much as Prissy does. I b'lieve in you absolutely, Cap'n Ezra." "Yes, yes, of course," hurriedly replied the Cap- tain. "Well, I'll speak to the boy, by and by, and see what I can do." In response to the pressing invitation of the sisters, he reluctantly agreed to stay to dinner. That dinner was a marvel. Bradley saw that his suppfer, the night of his arrival, was a mere beggar's crust com- pared to the spread that noon. In fact, it did no* take him very long to notice that not even the minister's appetite was tempted with the array of special dishes, puddings, cakes and preserves, that were always in evidence when the Captain was a guest. After dinner, when the boy started for school again, Captain Titcomb walked with him a part of the way. The Captain had a married sister living "down at the Neck," but he did not make his head- quarters at her home, preferring to keep bachelor's hall at his room at the Traveler's Rest, during his infrequent shore leaves. "I always feel more inde- pendent on my own deck," was the way he expressed 68 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE it; "Then I can cuss the steward, when it's necessary, without startin' a mutiny." "Brad," he said, as they came out of the Allen gate, "what's this I hear 'bout you gittin' the rope's- end yesterday? Never mind spinnin' the whole yarn; I cai'Iate I've heard the most of it. You and the Hammond boy had a scrimmage, too, didn't you?" "Yes, sir," said Bradley, doggedly. "Hum ! Think you'd have licked him if the skip- per hadn't took a hand?" Bradley looked up at his questioner, saw the twin- kle in his eye, and answered, with a sheepish grin: "Don't know. Guess I'd have tried mighty hard." The Captain roared. "I presume likely you would," he chuckled. "You look to me like one of the kind that sticks to a thing when you've started in. Well, you needn't tell the folks at home that I said It, but I've had the advantage of bein' a boy myself ■—which they haven't — and I know there's times when a feller has to fight. I've gin'rally found, though," he added, "that it's better to go a consid- 'rable ways in agreein' 'fore you knock a man down. It pays better, for one thing, and don't git into the papers, for another. I understand you've sort of took that little Baker craft, next door, in tow. She seems like a smart girl; do you like her?" "Yes, sir." "I jedge Prissy and Tempy wouldn't enter her for the cup. Now, Brad, mind I ain't coaxin' you to go back on a friend, but the old mai — that is, your ladies at home, have set out to make a man of you. They're THE "LAST DAY" 69 your owners and you're expected to sail 'cordin' to their orders. If there's one thing that I've always stuck to it's 'Obey orders or break owners.' Some- times owner's orders don't jibe exactly with your own ideas, but never mind — they pay the wages ; see ?" "She's a good girl," said the boy, stoutly. "She came in and took my part when she didn't have to, and I like her. And I won't promise not to speak to her, neither." The Captain looked down at the lad's square jaw and whistled. "Well," he said, "I don't b'lieve you need to prom- ise, but don't whoop too loud about it. Run as close to the wind as you can, and don't carry aU sail in a two-reef breeze jest to show you ain't afraid to. Be- cause a man's a good Republican, it don't follow that it's policy to go to a Democratic rally and tell the speaker he's a liar. Catch my drift?" "Yes, sir," answered Bradley, rather doubtfully. "You mean be chums with the girl, but don't tell Miss Prissy and Miss Tempy about it." "No — o." Captain Ezra looked somewhat put out by the literal interpretation. "That ain't jest it. Be — well, be easy, and Oh, thunder! Let it go at that. I guess you know what I mean. How do you think you're goin' to like your school?" Bradley answered, "Pretty well, I guess, when I get more used to it;" but, although he did not say so, he was certain that it would take some time to get used to it. As a matter of fact, however, that very lively first day was the only serious trouble for him 70 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE during that entire term. He was quick to learn, and so found little difficulty with his studies, and advanced as rapidly as other boys of his age. As for his be- havior, it was no worse than that of any other healthy youngster. At the end of the year he was "promoted" — that is, he was no longer a member of the fourth class, but instead proudly left his seat when the third was called. Gus^was "promoted" also, much to the surprise of the "old maids," who could not believe there was any good in the "dog girl." They gradually ceased to urge the boy not to have anything to do with her, for the very good reason that. In this matter, their urging was of no avail. They grew to understand their colt better as the months passed, and they learned just how tight a rein it was advisable to draw. Bradley also grew to understand the sisters. He discovered that Miss Prissy was the business woman, and that she paid all the bills, bought all the house- hold supplies, and did it without consulting Miss Tempy, whom she treated as a sort of doll with a mechanism that must not be jarred. Miss Tempy was "delicate" — at least, she believed that she was. She always had a new patdnt medicine on hand, and was always sure that It was "doin' a world" for her. She was the household art critic, passing judgnjent on the retrimming of bonnets, making over of dresses and the like. Under her direction the celebrated "plaid pants" of the lamented Captain Darius were made over for Bradley, and the boy "hooked Jack" for a whole day, because he THE "LAST DAY" 71 wouldn't wear the things to school. Gus came to his rescue by tipping a can of red paint over his legs as they were passing the wheelwright's shop, and the plaid outrages were thus put out of business for- ever. Bradley appreciated the kindly spirit that decked him in the "pants," but he was thankful for the paint. Miss Tempy was romantic. She read a great deal, and her favorite stories were those appearing serially in The Fireside Comforter, a pile of which, together with the back numbers of Godey's Lady's Book, were kept on the shelf in the sitting-room closet. In these stories Lord Eric wooed, and inevitably won, Evelyn, the beautiful factory girl, but Miss Tempy — in spite of repeated experiences — ^was never sure that he would win her, and so was in a state of delightful apprehension and hope during the intervals between installments. She loved to read these installments aloud, and, when they were finished, turned to Tup- par and Wordsworth's poems. She read poetry with what she called "expression," and wind was al- ways "wynd" with her. Captain Titcomb was the one point in which Miss Prissy would not efface herself in favor of her ■ younger sister. Secretly, each lady had hopes that the Captain's calls were more than mere friendly visits; but, because the object of these hopes never allowed himself to show the slightest preference, the race was heartbreakingly even. But when Miss Tempy read of Lord Eric she always imagined that tiobleman as looking and acting like the Captain. 72 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE Bradley made friends among the village boys, and did not make any virulent enemies. He had his in- terrupted fight "out" with Sam Hammond, and emerged a conqueror with a black eye and a swollen nose, which were the cause of his being in disgrace at home for a week. Also he joined the "Jolly Club," a secret society that met on Saturday afternoons in "Snuppy" Black's barn. Just why this gruesome society was christened the "Jolly Club" is rather hard to understand. The in- itiation ceremony was anything but jolly to the trem- bling youth who, having sworn a most blood-curdling oath of secrecy, was conducted blindfold to the place of assembly. In Bradley's case it was "Snuppy" himself who officiated as guide. After tying a hand- lierchief — not too clean and smelling of sweet-fern cigars — over his friend's eyes, "Snuppy" led him over fences and through back yards for a distance that seemed miles. Then, at last, they stopped and the guide rapped "three times fast and twice slow" on something that sounded like a door. The knocks were answered in kind by one within. Then a hollow voice asked, apparently through a speaking trumpet, "Who goes there?" "One of the mystic brothers," replied "Snuppy." "Have you the grip and countersign?" "I have." "Then give 'em." A hand was thrust out through the hole cut in the door for the convenience of the cat. "Snuppy" grasped the hand and fingered it ac- cording to formula. Then he stooped to the "cat THE "LAST DAY" 73 hole" and hoarsely whispered the countersign, "Death." " 'Tis well, brother," proclaimed the uhseen. "But w^o is with you?" "One who would — would " "Would fain " prompted the voice. "Would fain join our chosen band." "Is he prepared to face an awful doom?" This wouid have been more alarming if the voice had not added, in an indignant whisper, "Shut up laffin', you fellers I D'you want to spoil everything?" Bradley, having announced his readiness to face the "doom," the door was opened and he was led, stumbling, into what "Snuppy" informed him solemn- ly was the "Hall of Torture," but which smelt like a barn. Then the "mystic bro'thers" — ^led by the owner of the voice, who announced himself as "Grand Chief" — ^proceeded to put the neophyte through a course of sprouts that would have turned a grown man's hair gray. They came to a sudden end, when the "Grand Chief" proclaimed: "Boy, you are now standin' on the brink of a frightful precipice. Behind you is unknown depths." "Ain't neither. Hart Sears," was the unexpected reply of the victim. "I'm standin' on the beam over the mow. I can see down underneath this handker- chief and there's the hay." "Aw, gee !" shouted the disgusted "Grand Chief." "That's you all over, Snuppy I Don't know enough to tie a handkerchief tight!" Having undergone this harrowing ordeal, Bradley 74 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE was entitled to wear a shining badge — made by the tinsmith's son — that bore upon it, hammered out with a nail, the mystic capitals, "J. C." His worst quarrel with Gus and her friend, Clara Hopkins — the quarrel that lasted two weeks without a making up — came about because the new member refused to tell what the initials "stood for." During the long summer vacation there were chores to do, but there was also all sorts of fun along- shore, digging clams on the fiats, spearing flat-fish along the edge of the channels, or rare and much-prized trips to the fish-weirs where the nets were hauled. Captain Titcomb came home in Au- gust for an intended stay of two weeks, and he made the boy happy by taking him for an all-day sail and blue-fishing excursion off Setuckit Point. That fishing trip had unexpected and fateful re- sults. The Captain had called on Miss Prissy and her sister the morning of his arrival In Orham and, as was his custom, had brought each of them a pres- ent — exactly alike, of course. He had promised to dine at the Allen house the following Sunday. But it happened that Peleg Myrick wanted to make one of his Infrequent visits to the mainland that week, and he seized the opportunity to hail the catboat contain- ing Bradley and Captain Ezra, as It passed his qua- haug dory, and beg for a passage up. Mr. Peleg Myrick was a hermit. He lived alone in a little two-room shanty on the beach about half a mile from Setuckit Point. He owned a concertina that squeaked and walled, and a Mexican dog — gift •MA THE "LAST DAY" 75; of a wrecked skipper — that shivered all the time, and howled when the concertina was played. Peleg was certain that the howling was an attempt at singing, and boasted that "Skeezicks" — that was the dog's name — had an "ear for music jest like a human." Among his other accomplishments Mr. Myrick numbered that of weather prophet. He boasted that he could "smell a storm further'n a cat can smell fish." It was odd, but he really did seem able'to fore- tell, or guess, what the weather would be along the Orham coast, and the 'longshoremen swore by his prophecies. He was a great talker, when he had any one to talk to, and was a gossip whose news items were usually about three months old. Captain Ezra ap- preciated odd characters and he welcomed the chance to get a little fun out of Peleg. "Well, Peleg," said the Captain, as the catboat stood about on the first leg of the homeward stretch, "what's the news down the beach? Any of the sand fleas got married lately?" "Don't ask me for no news, Cap'n Ez 1" replied Mr. Myrick. "You're the feller to have news. You ain't married yit, be you?" "No, not yet. I'm waitin' to see which girl you pick out; then I'll see what's left." "Well, I ain't foolin'. I thought you might be married by now. Last time I was up to the village — 'long in June, 'twas — I see M'lissy Busteed, and she said 'twas common talk that you was courtin' one of the old maids." 76 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE Captain Titcomb scowled, and looked uneasily at his passenger. "She did, hey?" he grunted. "Yes. I told her I didn't take no stock in that. 'Cap'n Ez,' I says, 'has been courtin' too many times sence I can remember,' I says. 'One time 'twas Maty Emma Cahoon; 'nother time 'twas Seth Wingate's sister's gal ; then agin 'twas ' " "All right! All right!" broke in the Captain, glancing hurriedly at Bradley. "Never mind that. How's the quahaugin' nowadays? Gittin' a fair price?" "Pretty fair," replied Peleg. Then, with the per- sistency of the born gossip, not to be so easily diverted from his subject, he went on : "I told M'lissy that, but she said there wan't scarcely a doubt that you meant bus'ness this time. Said you fetched presents every time you come home. Said the only doubt in folks' minds was whether 'twas Prissy or Tempy you was after. Said she was sure you was after one on 'em, 'cause she as much as asked 'em one time when she was at their house, and they didn't deny it." Mr. Myrick talked steadily on this and other sub- jects all the way to the wharf, but Captain Ezra was silent and thoughtful. He shook hands with Brad- ley at the gate of the Traveler's Rest, and said good- bye in an absent-minded way. "I s'pose you'll be 'round to- dinner, Sunday, Cap'n Ez?" said the boy. "Hey? Sunday? Well, I don't know. It might > THE "LAST DAY" 77 be that I shall be called back to the schooner sooner than I expect. Can't tell." Sure enough, the next day the sisters received a note from their expected guest, saying that he was obliged to leave at once for Portland, and could not, there- fore, be with them on Sunday. The ladies were dis- appointed, but thought nothing more of the matter at the time. It was nearly six months before the Captain visited Orham again, and during this visit he did not come near the big house. He waylaid Brad- ley, however, asked him all about himself, how he was getting on at school, and the like, but when the boy asked if he, the Captain, wasn't "comin' 'round to see the folks pretty soon," the answer was vague and unsatisfactory. "Why, I — I don't know's I'll have time," was the reply. "I'm pretty busy, and Give 'em my re- gards, will you, Brad? I've got to be runnin' on low. So long." It was the same during the next "shore leave," the" following November. Captain Titcomb saw Brad- ley several times, gave him a six-bladed jack-knife, and took him for a drive over to the big cranberry swamp owned by the Ostable Company, but he did not call on the "old maids." So when the news came — ^via Miss Busteed — that Captain Titcomb had re- turned to his vessel. Miss Prissy sighed and put the fan and the other presents in a locked bureau drawer, and Miss Tempy began a new serial in the Comforter without once suggesting that its hero behaved "jest like Cap'n Ezra." In fact, the Captain's name was 78 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE never mentioned by the sisters, and Bradley himself learned not to speak of him while at home. Three more years of school and vacations, with "chores" and sailing and cranberry picking, followed. Bradley was sixteen. His voice, having passed through the squeaky "changing" period, now gave evidence of becoming what Miss Tempy called a "beautiful double bass, jest like father's." He was large for his age and his shoulders were square. He was more particular about his clothes now, and his neckties were no longer selected by Miss Tempy. To be seen with girls was not so "sissified" in his mind as it used to be, but he still stuck to Gus and she was his "first choice" at parties, and he saw her home from prayer meeting occasionally. As for the "dog-girl" herself, she, too, paid more attention to clothes, and her pets — though still nu- merous and just as disreputable in appearance — ^were made to behave with more decorum. Her hair was carefully braided now, her dresses came down to her boot tops, and Miss Tempy grudgingly admitted that "if 'twas anybody else, I should say she was likely to be good lookin' when she grows up." The "Last Day" came, and Bradley and Gus were to graduate. In Orham there is no Graduation Day. The eventful ending of the winter term is the "Last Day," and all the parents and relatives, together with the school committee and the clergymen, visit the school to sit stiffly on the settees and witness the ceremonies. The "old maids" were agitated on the morning of THE "LAST DAY" 79 the great day. There was no forenoon session, and when Bradley — who had been at the schoolhouse to help Gus, Clara, Sam Hammond and the other older scholars festoon the room with ropes and wreaths of evergreen — came home for luncheon, he found the ladies gowned and bonneted, although there were two hours to spare before the time to start. Miss Tempy wore her silk mitts during the meal, and was so nerv- ous that she could only drink her "pepper tea" and eat one small slice of bread and butter. Miss Prissy was nervous also, but she was much more serious than her sister. "Oh, dear !" sputtered Miss Tempy. "What does make you so solemn. Prissy? I declare you give me the fidgets. Anybody'd think 'twas a funeral you was goin' to." " 'Tain't the school business that's worryin' me," was the reply. "I only wish 'twas." "Well, then, what is it. Now I come to think of it, you've been glum as an owl for two or three months. What's troublin' you? I do wish you'd speak out. You're jest like father used to be; keep all your troubles to yourself and never tell me any- thing." But Miss Prissy only sighed, and her sister, too excited to think of other things just at present, turned to Bradley to ask him if he was sure he "knew his piece" and if the schoolroom "looked pretty." "Only think," she said, contentedly, "how much more fortunate you are than some of the other schol- ars, Bradley. This is only the beginnin' of your edu- 8o PARTNERS OF THE TIDE cation, as you might say. Next year you'll be goin' to high school, over to Harniss, and when you get through there, you'll commence college. It's goin' io be Wesleyan, too. I've set my heart on Wesleyan, Prissy." ^ Miss Prissy didn't answer, and Bradley, too, was ^silent. Gus was going to high school, but Clara Hopkins — ^whose father had died recently — ^was not. Sam Hammond loudly boasted that he was going to New York to enter the office of a large wrecking com- pany, where, as he said, he was going to learn to be a diver and have all sorts of adventures. "My cousin Ed's a diver," he proudly proclaimed, "and he makes lots of money and has a great time. He says there ain't no sense in high school ; you might as well begin to learn your trade now." Bradley, although he would not have hurt the sis- ters' feelings by saying so, secretly envied Sam. A Cape Cod boy, with the seagoing blood in his veins the big water called him with the call of a master He loved the ocean and the ships and the salt wind, The Wesleyan idea did not appeal to him in the least, A minister, in his boyish mind, was a poor figure bfr side a commander of a life-saving station, like Cap tain Luther Davis, or, better still, a real sea captain like Captain TitcOmb. After lunch Miss Prissy unlocked the chest of drawers and took out a worn velvet case. "Bradley," she said, "you've been a good boy since you've lived with us, and me and Tempy have come to think as much of you as if you was our own son. THE "LAST DAY" 8i Here's somethin' that we set a great deal of store by and meant to keep always, but we've talked it over and we think you ought to have it and wear it." She opened the velvet case and showed a big, old- fashioned silver watch, the chasing on its case worn almost smooth. "It was father's watch," said Miss Tempy, "and he always carried it. It looks so much like him. We want you to wear it, and when you're at high school or college and look to see what time it is, you'll think of us way off here at Orham, won't you ?" Bradley was a proud boy, and the "old maids" were proud of him when, with the big watch in his pocket and the heavy chain rattling against hi? vest, the three started for the schoolhouse. On the way they caught up with Gus and her grandmother. It was amusing to note the condescension with which the sisters treated the old lady. As Miss Tempy often said, "The Bakers are real good meanin' peo- ple, but the men folks have never been anythin' but fishermen." It was agreed that the decorations were "lovely." The blackboards had been ornamented by Mr. Dan- iels with mottoes, such as "Knowledge is Power," done in different colored chalks and surrounded by marvelous flourishes and flying ribbons, and impossi- ble birds with tails that poured from their backs like feathered Niagaras. Mr. Daniels, himself, arrayed in his best, opened the exercises and called upon the Reverend Lang- worthy to offer prayer. As the concluding "Amen" 82 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE was uttered, Miss Tempy, sitting on the settee by the wall, nudged her sister and whispered, "Look, Prissy ! I do declare if there ain't Cap'n Ezra I" Sure enough, there was the Captain on the opposite settee, neatly dressed as usual, and politely nodding to them. "When did he come home?" whispered the nervous younger sister. "I didn't know he was comin'. But then," she sorrowfully added, "we don't know any- thing about the Cap'n nowadays." Miss Prissy sedately returned the bow. "Don't look at him so, Tempy," she muttered. "If Cap'n Titcomb sees fit to stay away from our house, I should hope we could show him we didn't care." Mr. Solomon Bangs, chairman of the school com- mittee, addressed the school. He began with a loud "Ahem," and proceeded somewhat after this fashion : "Scholars, I am — er — glad to be present on this — er — auspicious occasion. It is, of course, a — ahem — ^pleasure to see you all in your seats in this school- room, studyin' your lessons and learnin' to be great and good men and women. I am sure that every boy and girl here to-day realizes the — the — ^worth of education and learnin'. Your parents and the com- mittee are here because they realize it, and know what learnin' has been to them. Your teacher tells me that you have been a credit to him. I am glad to hear it. As chairman of the committee havin' this school under my charge, I esteem — that is to say — I feel sen- sible of my responsibilities. The voyage of life upon which you are about to step forth — er — embark, I THE "LAST DAY" 83 should have said " and so on, for ten minutes. Mr. Daniels looked, becomingly solemn, and the visi- tors whispered to one another that it was a "splendid speech." Then six boys from the youngest class gave a recita- tion, each setting forth in sing-song verse what he would do "When I'm a man — a man." This was voted "too cute for anything." There were more "pieces" and a dialogue. Then the graduating class, the boys in their "Sunday suits," and the girls in white muslin with blue ribbons, had its turn. Sam Hammond thundered through "Spar- tacus to the Gladiators." Clara Hopkins recited an original composition on "Our Duty in Life." It waa a very serious "duty," and was embellished with vari- ous flowers of rhetoric labeled "the sunrise of youth," "the dawn of womanhood," and the like. Bradley bravely tackled "The Advantages of a Republican Form of Government," and when he finished every monarch on the globe was cowering beneath his throne, like a cat under a sofa ; at least, if he was not actually cowering there, it was the opinion of the "old maids" that he would have been if he had heard that composition. Bradley's effort was enthusiastically applauded, especially by Mr. Seth Wingate, who, be- ing a life-long Democrat, was relieved to find that the boy had not, as he feared, constructed an argument in favor of the "Grand Old Party." Gus had been entrusted with the "Class Chroni- cles." These were an innovation for Orham "Last Days," the idea having been imported from Middle- 84 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE boro by a young lady who had formerly attended school there, and who said that they always had "Class Chronicles" at schools that were "any ac- count." Gus's Chronicles were witty and bright, and, if some of the jokes were old, they had been made over until, like the "old maids' " dolmans, they were almost new again. It must be understood, of course, that Chronicles and compositions and "pieces" were delivered with the accompaniment of pump-handle gestures, conscientiously copied from "Fig. i," "Fig. 2," and the rest, in the front of the Sixth Reader. After the school had done its part, another com- mittee man spoke. Mr. Langworthy said a few words; Mr. Daniels repeated the statement that he made every year, namely, that this particular graduat- ing Glass was the best and most brilliant he had ever taught, and then — the "Last Day" was over. That evening Bradley sat reading in the dining- room. Miss Tempy, in the sitting-room, was going over, for the fortieth time since it was written, the wonderful argument in favor of a "Republican Form of Government." As her sister entered the room, she dropped the roll of paper in her lap and said, solemnly : i "Prissy Allen, it's my belief that when that boy first came here and I said that I wanted him to go to college and be a minister, I was inspired. I declare I do! I've jest been readin' that piece of his again, and it beats any sermon I ever heard." Miss Prissy seated herself in a rocker and looked solemnly at her sister. For a minute she gazed with- THE "LAST DAY" 85 out speaking. Then, suddenly, as if she had made up her mind, she rose, gave the dining-room door a swing that would have shut it completely had not the corner of a mat interfered, and, coming back to her chair, said, slowly: "Tempy, I'm afraid we'll never be able to send Bradley to college." The precious manuscript fell from Miss Tempy's lap to the floor. "Why — ^why, Prissy Allen!" she exclaimed, "What do you mean?" "I mean we can't do what we've hoped to do. Oh, dear! I — I don't know what we'll do. Tempy, we've hardly got any money left I" (J-^- CHAPTER V. im A CHANGE OF PLANS. FOR a moment Miss Tempy made no reply to her sister's speech. Instead, she sat there with her eyes fixed upon Miss Prissy's face and her thin fingers picking nervously at her dress. "Haven't got any money?" she repeated, after a pause. "Haven't got any money left? Why, then — why, then, we'll have to take it out of the savin's bank up to Boston. Of course, Bradley must go to college. You know he must, Prissy." But Miss Prissy shook her head. "You don't understand, Tempy," she said. "I ought to have talked with you about it long ago. I 86 A CHANGE OF PLANS 87 can see now that I ought to ; but, oh, dear I father al- ways said you was too delicate to bother with money matters, and I've been used to takin' all th^ care my- self, and so I've jest gone on and on, worryin' and plannin' and layin' awake nights until I can't go on any further. Oh, Tempy," she cried, and the tears rolled down her cheeks, "you don't understand. The money in the Boston bank has all gone too. We haven't got more than five hundred dollars left in the world, and when that's gone 1" She waved her hands despairingly. But still Miss Tempy did not comprehend. "Why, all of it can't be gone 1" she said. "All of the insurance money and everything! Why, it was five thousand dollars!" She mentioned the sum rev- erently and in an awestruck whisper. "Yes," said Miss Prissy, trying hard not to be im- patient; "yes, 'twas five thousand dollars and father died over ten years ago, and we've been livin' on it ever since." "But five thousand dollars. Prissy! Five thou- sand " "Oh, my soul and body! Anybody'd think 'twas a million. Jest think, now; jest /A j«^.' We've lived on it for prety nigh eleven years ; paid for our clothes and livin' and havin' the house oainted six years ago, and " "But it needed paintin'." "Needed it! I should think it did! But it cost more'n we'd ought to spend, jest the same. Oh, it's more my fault than anybody's. Long's father lived, 88 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE the place was kept up, and you and me was used to havin' things as good as our neighbors, and I went on and on, never thinkin' we was too extravagant, until, all at once, the money that we first put in the Harniss Bank was used up. And then it come home to me, as you might say, and I realized what we'd been doin'. Oh, I've tried and tried; scrimped here and pinched there. What do you s'pose I sold the woodlot for? And then the cran'by swamp ?" "Why, you said we didn't need 'em, and it was toa much trouble to run 'em." "Said! Ob, I don't doubt I said all sorts of things to keep you from knowin'. But I sold 'em to help pay the bills. And then you was took down with the typhoid, and there was that big doctor's bill ; and then Bradley came and he had to have clothes and a little money to spend like the other boys. And now 1" Miss Prissy choked, tried to go on, and then broke down and cried heartily and without restraint. In all the years since the death of Captain Allen Miss Tempy had never seen her common-sense, prac- tical sister give way like this. The sight alarmed her much more than the story of the financial situation had so far done. She didn't fully understand the lat- ter even yet, but every one of Miss Prissy's sobs was to her a call for help that needed an immediate an- swer. "There! there! there! dear!" she said, running to the other rocker and putting her arm around her sis- ter's neck. "You poor thing! You mustn't cry like that. You've jest worried yourself sick. You're all A CHANGE OF PLANS 89 worn out. I shouldn't be surprised if you've got a little cold, too, in that draughty schoolhouse. Let me make you a good, big cup of pepper tea right away; now do." I Miss Prissy turned a sob into a feeble laugh. "Oh, dear me, Tempy," she said, laying her handi on the other's arm, "I b'lieve you think pepper tea'U cure anything — even an empty pocketbook. I wish 'twould pay bills; then, I don't know but I'd drink a hogshead. But it won't, nor cryin' won't either. Set down, and I'll tell you jest how things are." So Miss Tempy, reluctantly giving up the "pepper tea" idea for the present, went back to her chair, and Miss Prissy continued. "The money in the Boston savin's bank is gone," she said, "and a year or more ago I wrote to the broker folks that bought the bond for us when father died, and they sold it for me and got a little less than a thousand dollars for it. I put the money into the bank at Harniss, and though I've tried my best to be economical, there ain't but five hundred and eighty left. That, and the place here, is all we've got." In a bewildered fashion Miss Tempy strove to grasp the situation. "Then we're poor," she said. "Real poor, and I thought we was rich. Well, I shall give up that new bonnet I was goin' to have next spring, and I s'posft I hadn't ought to subscribe to the Comforter either, 1 did think so much of it!" "I'm afraid we'll have to give up more than the Comforter, Tempy. I've thought and thought, till 90 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE my poor head is nearly worn through. We might sell the place, here, but 'twould be like sellin' our everlast- in' s6uls — if 'tain't unreligious to say it — and, besides, property at Orham is so low now that we'd only get ha'f what it's worth, and when that money's spent there wouldn't be anything left." "Sell the place! Father's place! Why, Prissy Allen, how can you talk so ! Where would we live?" "Well, we might hire a little house down at South Orham or somewheres." "South Orham ! Where all those Portuguese and things live? I'd rather die." And it was Miss Tempy's turn to cry. "You needn't cry for that, Tempy. We won't sell yet a while. Not till there's nothin' left. But we can't have the barn shingled, and as for Bradley's goin' to college, that, I'm afraid, is out of the ques- tion." "Oh, dear! dear! And the barn looks awful. Melissy Busteed was sayin', only last week, that folks was wond'rin' when we was goin' to have it fiied. And poor Bradley ! My heart was set on his bein' a minister. I don't know but I'd live In the poorhousc to make him one. They say Mr. Otis keeps a real nice poorhouse, too," she added. Miss Prissy smiled dolefully. "It hasn't got to the poorhouse yet," she said. "And I hope we can send Bradley through high school anyhow. But we'll have to scrimp awful and we must try to earn some money. I was talkin' to Abigail Mullett at the church fair last JAugust, and she spok^ about those aprons and one A CHANGE OF PLANS 91 thing another that I made, and said she never saw such hemmin' and tuckin'. She said she'd give any- thing if she could get somebody to do such work for her in the dressmakin' season. I've been thinkin' maybe she'd put out some of her work to me if I asked her to. She does more dressmakin' than any- body around ; has customers 'way over to Ostable, and keeps three girls sometimes. And you know how the summer folks bought those knit shawls of yours, Tempy? Well, I don't doiibt you could get orders for lots more. We'll try, and we'll let Bradley start at high school and see how we make it go." So Miss Tempy brightened up, and in a few min- utes she had, in her mind, sold so many shawls and Miss Prissy had done so well with her hemming and tucking that she saw them putting money in the bank instead of taking it out. In fact, she was getting rich so fast, in her dreams, that her sister didn't have the heart to throw more cold water at this time. And even Miss Prissy herself felt unwarrantably hopeful. She had borne the family burdens so long that to share the knowledge of them with another was a great relief. They discussed ways and means for a half- hour longer, and then Miss Tempy insisted on getting that "pepper tea." "I honestly believe," she said, "that if I hadn't took pepper tea steady for the last four or five years I shouldn't be here now. That and Blaisdell's Emul- sion has given me strength to bear most anything, even the prospects of the poorhouse. Thank good- ness, I've got a new bottle of Emulsion, and pepper 92 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE tea's cheap, so I shan't have to give that up, even if we are poorer'n Job's turkey." "All right," sighed Miss Prissy. "If It'll make you feel any better to parboil my insides with hot water and pepper, fetch it along. Don't say anything to Bradley about what we've been sayin'. 'Twon't do any good* and will only make the poor child feel bad." But Bradley was not in the dining-room. The book he had been reading was turned face downward on the table, but he was gone, and so was his hat. "Why, I never I" exclakned Miss Tempy. "He never went out an evenin' before without sayin' any- thin' to me or you. What do you s'pose is the mat- ter?" "You don't think he heard what we said, do you ?" anxiously asked her sister. "I thought I shut the door." "You did shut it, but, now you speak of it, seems to me I remember it wasn't latched when I come out jest now. I hope he didn't hear. He's such a sensi- tive boy; jest like all the Aliens." "The "pepper tea" was prepared — a double dose this time — and the sisters sat sipping it, Miss Prissy with many coughs and grimaces, and Miss Tempy with the appreciation of a connoisseur. After a mo- ment's silence she said : "Prissy, do you know what I've been thinkin'? I've been thinkin' what a blessin' 'twould be if we had Cap'n Titcomb to go to for advice now." "Humph I If I've thought that once, I've thought A CHANGE OF PLANS 93 it a million times in the last year," was the decided answer. It was after ten o'clock, and only Bradley's absence had prevented the ladies from going up to bed, when the outside door of the dining-room opened, and the missing boy came in. "Bradley Nickerson, where've you been?" ex- claimed Miss Tempy, running to meet him. "We've been pretty nigh worried to death. Why don't you shut the ,door ? Who's that out there ? Why— why, Cap'n Tit comb!" "What's that?" cried Miss Prissy, hurrying in. "You don't mean Well ! Good evenin', Cap'n Titcomb ; won't you step in ?" The Captain accepted the invitation. He was as much embarrassed as the "old maids," even more so than Miss Prissy, who immediately, after a swift, sidelong glance of disapproval at her agitated sister, assumed an air of dignified calmness. "How d'ye do. Prissy?" stammered the Captain. "Tempy, I hope you're well. Yes ; I'm f eelin' fair to middlin'. No, thanks; I ain't goin' to stop long; it's pretty late for calls. Fact is, Brad here's got some- thin' to say. Heave ahead, Brad." The boy, too, was embarrassed, but as the two looked at him expectantly, he fidgetted with a button on his jacket and said: "Miss Prissy, I didn't mean to listen, but the door wasn't shut tight, and I couldn't help hearing what you and Miss Tempy were saying a little while -™« " ago. 94 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE "There !" exclaimed Miss Tempy. "I was afraid of that door. You remember I said so, Prissy.' But Miss Prissy didn't answer; she merely looked at Bradley. "I heard what you said," nervously went on the boy, "and when you told about — about what you was going to do so's I could go to high school, I — I thought first I'd come right in and tell you you mustn't. But then I thought you wouldn't believe I meant it, or wouldn't pay any attention to it if I did, so I went outside to think it over by myself. And then — then I went right up to see the Cap'n." "I hope," said Miss Prissy, sternly, "that you didn't repeat our talk to Cap'n Titcomb without tell- in' us you was goin' to." "No, no; he didn't," hastily broke in the Captain, "He didn't tell a word. You've got a pretty fair kind of boy here, if you want to know," he added, with more than his usual enthusiasm. "Hum !" was Miss Prissy's only comment. "Go on, Bradley." "All I told him was," said Bradley, "that I didn't think it was right for me to go to school and college when I ought to be earning some money. I'm going on seventeen now, and lots of fellows I know are going to work. I don't b'lieve I'd make a very good minister," with a look of appeal at Miss Tempy, "and I'd a good deal rather go to sea. All our folks have been to sea. My father and my grandfather. YeSj and your father, too, you know." The last as a happy inspiration. A CHANGE OF PLANS 95 "Don't you think that we know best what " began Miss Prissy, but the Captain again interrupted her. "Let him spin his yarn, Prissy," he said. "Nothin' is settled yet, so don't worry." "So I went to the Cap'n," went on Bradley, "and asked him if he'd take me on board his schooner. I ain't a sailor, but I know a lot about boats, and I don't get seasick even when it's mighty rough ; do I, Cap'n Ezra?" "No," replied Captain Titcomb, gravely. "You manage to keep your cargo from shiftin' pretty well for a green l^and." "And he said he'd take me as a kind of cabin boy; didn't you, Cap'n ? And learn me things, and get me advanced as soon as I was fit for it. And he'll pay me wages, too ; right away. There ! And I won't cost you a cent more. Please let me go ?" "Well, I never!" exclaimed Miss, Tempy. She would have continued, but her sister spoke. "It seems to me," said the latter, "that you would have done better by us, Bradley, if you'd asked our advice before you went to Cap'n Titcomb or anybody else. We'd planned to give you a good education, so's you might amount to somethin' in this world. Sea- goin' is all right — the land knows there's been enough of it in our family — ^but everybody says it ain't what it used to be, and it's a dreadful hard life. Boy on a schooner, even with the Cap'n here, ain't much of a place, It'll be a good while 'fore you amount to much or make much money." 96 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE Bradley would have replied, but Captain Titcomb held up his hand. "Brad," he commanded, "go into the galley and shut the door." The boy didn't hesitate ; he obediently turned and went into the kitchen. The Captain looked after him approvingly. "I like a chap that obeys orders," he observed. "Prissy, you and Tempy know me, and you know I like Brad and want to see him do well. But I want to tell you this : I've seen lots of boys, and I was one myself, and if a boy gits the salt water notion into his head, nothin'U git it out but a good-sized dose of that same water and a first mate and a rope's end. 'Twon't git it out then, if he's really got the disease, but it'll prove whether it's growin' pains or the genu- ine rheumatics mighty quick. The old man — dad, I mean — was all for makin' a doctor out of me, but when he caught me one night with my duds tied up in a newspaper ready to run away and ship on a cattle boat, he give in. 'Sarah,' he says to mother, 'I've done my best to raise a pill-peddler, but it looks ^s if 'twas nothin' but a lob-scouser after all. All right,' he says; 'if you're dyin' to eat sal^hoss and smell bilge, you can do it, but you'll do it under somebody that I know, and not on a floatin' barnyard. Cap'n Tim Mayo'll take you, if I ask him to,' he says, 'and if he don't work the taste for pickle out of you, then there ain't nothin' that can,' he says. "Well," continued the Captain, with a twist of his mouth, "Cap'n Tim tried ; I'll say that for him. I'll A CHANGE OF PLANS 97