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 THE LIBRARY 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 BOOKS OF ALL KIND* 
 
 HERE FOR SAL* 
 5399 W. HOLT BLV: 
 ONTARIO, CALIF. 
 
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 5399 WEST HOLT BLV. 
 
 . . ,
 
 POWER LOT
 
 MRS. SKIl'l'KK STOOD IN TIIK TALL (IRASS IX HKR 
 FLOWKR (JARDKX. St< page 23*.
 
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 BY 
 
 SARAH P. McLEAN GREENE 
 
 AUTHOR OF " CAPE COD FOLKS," " VESTY OF THE 
 BASINS," "DEACON LYSANDER," ETC. 
 
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 THE BAKER & TAYLOR CO., PUBLISHERS 
 
 33-37 EAST 17xH ST. UNION SQUARE NORTH
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. A MESSAGE 9 
 
 II. WITHOUT His LATCHKEY 16 
 
 III. UP THE HIIX 30 
 
 IV. MARY STINGAREE 46 
 
 V. THE TIDE MAKES IK 63 
 
 VI. TWENTY CENTS AN HOUR 82 
 
 VII. JOGGINS NOT so STEEP 97 
 
 VIII. As A PUGILIST 115 
 
 IX. AN EGG FOR A STAMP 133 
 
 X. THE PASSAGE THROUGH 14^ 
 
 XI. ANOTHER HILL 157 
 
 XII. THE FIGHT WITH BEASTS 174 
 
 XIII. FRIENDLY 183 
 
 XIV. MRS. BYJO'S BOARDER 198 
 
 XV. SHE OF THE WHIP-HAND 208 
 
 XVI. MRS. PROUTY or PROUTY'S NECK 219 
 
 XVII. SKIPPER'S WIFE AND RHODY 234 
 
 XVIII. THB AUCTION 244 
 
 XIX. JACOB THAWLES BREAKS AWAY 261 
 
 XX. SIDE-SADDLING THE Loo 272 
 
 XXI. THE TEST 282 
 
 XXII. " HK Wiu. STAND" 295
 
 8 CONTENTS 
 
 CIIAPTKR FACE 
 
 XXIII. THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL EXPOSITION 3O6 
 
 XXIV. SEA Gn.i.3 EMBRACE 33 
 
 XXV. SCARECROW AS COMFORTER 330 
 
 XXVI. "As FAR AS HEAVEN" 4*3 
 
 XXVII. THE "WRASTLE" BY THE RIVER 351 
 
 XXVIII. THE STEEP WAY 36* 
 
 XXIX. Mas. BYJO KISSES HER BOARDER ....... 369 
 
 XXX. ALL IN WHITE 376 
 
 XXXI. POWER Lor, GOD HEU- Us . 390
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 SKIPPER STOOD ix THE TALL GRASS IN HER 
 
 FLOWER GARDEN Frontispiece 
 
 "STOP YOUR CART," GASPED ROB, "I'M COLD I FACING PAGE 
 
 WANT TO WALK " 36 
 
 " How CAN You TURN YOUR BACK ON THAT VIEW ?" 1 16 
 
 "WHO WANTS A HAPPY, CHEERFUL, TICKLE- YER- 
 
 RIBS, CONSOLIN' PAIR 'o RUBBERS?" . . 252 
 
 "PROMISE," I SAID, STRIDING TOWARD HER . , 328
 
 POWER LOT 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A MESSAGE 
 
 THE Almighty up at Power Lot looks as though He 
 had at last all kinds of material to work with ; infinite 
 ocean, broad basin, mad river, far heights, and sharp 
 valleys, bowlders that make you catch your breath, and 
 green pastures that lie sound asleep all kinds of such 
 business the Almighty has at Power Lot. And so much 
 of it ! Looks as though He laughed to Himself at last 
 for the room there was, and tossed creation about helter- 
 skelter and gigantic free. 
 
 I remember an artist who came there once, who 
 seemed to think that it was all arranged. 
 
 " See that touch to the middle distance," he'd say ; 
 " watch that class of shadows ; observe that symphony 
 of hill and vale." 
 
 But I, being no artist, sucked in my sense of it first 
 hand; and, as I say, it looked to me as though the Al- 
 mighty, having leaned from His solitudes to a long view 
 of the cities somewhere and feeling stifled on those con- 
 traptions of walls and petty man-made ways, had turned 
 back with an awful joy and had His rampage with our 
 landscape there at Power Lot. I don't mean anything 
 irreverent either. A God- Almighty rampage with the 
 landscape is something to make a man bow the knee. 
 
 POWER LOT, GOD HELP US, that was the com-
 
 10 PONVKll LOT 
 
 plete name of our place; worse tlmn Na/areth, you see. 
 Yes, outsiders speaking of us said with meaning, " He 
 lives over to Power Lot, God help us," or, " It hap- 
 pened at Power Lot, God help us.*' It may have been 
 because it was so hard to get up to us there by the 
 steep way ; it may have been by reason of our poverty 
 or our ignorance, but with our name was ever attached 
 this invocation for supernal aid. 
 
 So out of Power Lot, God Help Us, came patient toil- 
 ers by land and sea as well as vagabonds and ne'er-do- 
 wells .with a taste for wandering, ambitionless resigned 
 women, runaway boys and girls ; and out of Power Lot, 
 God Help Us, came Mary Stingaree. 
 
 Well named ! There was a sting to Mary, for me, at 
 least; a sting I carry with me so long as I journey over 
 this firmament in the garment of the flesh. I am not 
 with Mary's sort of people now ; she got far beyond 
 me in a way. But somehow I've made up my mind it's 
 a healthy sting. It's better, I reckon, to make your try 
 at being a man than to win your sweet desire. So Mury 
 stung me, and stings me ever. 
 
 A little, sulky-mouthed, broad-browed, black-haired 
 girl was Mary Stingaree. Distrustful, sulky-mouthed 
 that came from old Bate Stingaree, drunkard, de- 
 ceased. 
 
 Down to school at Bear River we went together, 
 Mary and I. I was in her class then. Of course the 
 Bear River children derided us, coming from Power 
 Lot, God Help Us. 
 
 'Way back from somewhere Mary had inherited a 
 steady, never-failing gristmill of brains, and a singing 
 voice like a soul quit of the flesh. Bear River was poor
 
 A MESSAGE 11 
 
 in musical talent, so they let Mary in to the Baptist 
 church to take part in a Sunday school exhibition. She 
 sang: there were some tourists stopping at Bear River, 
 and they applauded for delight, clapping their hands. 
 Mary thought she was being derided again, the troubled 
 little soul from Power Lot, God Help Us, and she went 
 out weeping bitterly. 
 
 But the gristmill of brains kept a steadily revolving 
 wheel. From Bear River district school to the distant 
 academy at Wolfdale Mary worked her way. She came 
 home on a vacation, fourteen years old now and grave 
 as a woman. 
 
 " May I ?ee you to evening meet'n', Mary? " said I. 
 By this time she was sort of dissociated in everybody's 
 mind from Power Lot, and had been admitted to the 
 Bear River Baptist Church under deep religious con- 
 viction and a presumption of actual social equality. I 
 sneaked along in the wake of her material welfare, 
 wondering. Spiritually, she was lost to me. 
 
 " May I see you to evening meet'n', Mary? " said I, 
 waylaying her at the bridge. 
 
 " I'll go back and ask Mother," said she. 
 
 I waited at the bridge. She came back, stepping 
 demurely. " Mother says * Yes,' Jim." 
 
 I was nineteen, of a long line of toiling progenitors 
 not much vexed by brains. I stood in awe of the book- 
 ish little maiden. This would be a great woman ; I 
 would put in my plea early, would begin courting al- 
 ready. I knew a bit of rustic etiquette in that line. 
 
 *' Will you take my arm, Mary ? " I said. 
 
 She blushed deeply, religiously. 
 
 "I couldn't do that, Jim," she said. "It would
 
 12 POWER LOT 
 
 mean too much it would be too intimate," said the 
 bookish little maiden. " But I will take your hand, 
 Jim." 
 
 So, hand clasped in hand, we went to the evening 
 meeting at Bear River. Very proper and formal that 
 may have seemed to wise little Mary Stingaree, but to 
 me, it was vastly tender. Her slender hand nestled in 
 my broad one I can feel it still. And I would have 
 been content if the road from Power Lot, God Help Us, 
 to Bear River had wound on and on through this mortal 
 lifetime. That brief hour was my portion. Mary's 
 ideas of convention changed. 
 
 The gristmill of brains kept steadily turning. From 
 academy to provincial college Mary worked her way ; 
 then across the water to the highest seat of learning in 
 the States; then a post-graduate course and a degree; 
 and then, by reason of her marked ability, a position 
 of distinction at the head of a seminary. 
 
 Just at that climax of her toiling ambition old Bate 
 Stingaree fell in a drunken fit and broke his neck. A 
 flock of evil crows swooped down over the Stingaree 
 fortunes. The mother, half-paralyzed, took to her bed. 
 The younger brother, a clean, straight fellow, went 
 down with his fishing boat in a hurricane off the Gut. 
 The older brother, dissolute like his father, had lost 
 his position in a cloth manufactory in the States and 
 came home in rags. Mary was sent for and took leave 
 of absence to come home to her father's funeral. 
 
 It was the solemn desolation of winter there by the 
 hills and gorges and the pounding, seething shores that 
 lay off in view of Power Lot, God Help Us. The wind 
 swept with endless moan through the cypress forests.
 
 A MESSAGE 13 
 
 When Mary saw how it was with her people at home 
 her eyes for a moment had that very look of the world 
 without, just that look as of bleak gorges and the pas- 
 sion of the waves surging back, moaning and thwarted, 
 from the shore. Then her lips took on the strength of 
 the hills and their quiet, too. She had grown tall and 
 straight. She was more than beautiful; she was what 
 my soul had prophesied: she was a great woman. 
 
 " Jim," she said to me, " you are one of that fated 
 kind of whom it is easy to ask things, of whom one is 
 always morally sure that no request will be refused. 
 You have not reformed, like the rest of us. You have 
 not had advantages." 
 
 There was an elf in her black eyes that might have 
 been wicked, I had sometimes thought, except for 
 stern schooling and the quiet habit of the big strong 
 mouth. She smiled at me. 
 
 " I have read all the books you sent me, Mary," I 
 replied, " three times over. I don't know what I 
 should have done without them. I've been waiting to 
 thank " 
 
 " No," she interrupted me meditatively, " you have 
 not reformed. I don't believe you ever will. You have 
 not had advantages." 
 
 I could almost have sworn that she was fond of me. 
 But it was in a way too high for me to take any notice 
 of. I understood that. The kindness in her eyes was 
 hard to bear. It was the sort to lure a child or a big, 
 trusty Newfoundland. But first and last I adored her, 
 and I stood confused to all except that she was near 
 me, looking at me, and that I was ready to do her 
 bidding.
 
 14 POWER LOT 
 
 " The sea is rough cruel and rough to-day, Jim," 
 she said, ** and there would be danger out there to-day, 
 even to the staunchest little fishing vessel, managed by 
 the most skillful hand that ever was? danger even to 
 Jim Turbine? " 
 
 I laughed. " You used to know better about the 
 sea and the weather. Your advantages have left her 
 out," I added, with a jealous eye to the spars of my 
 boat, rocking down there under the ledge. 
 
 " And I'm selfish," she went on. " My one spar of 
 hope up here would be Jim Turbine. And I don't 
 see," she went on, drearily, half-dreamily, looking 
 toward the water, " how anyone of mortal frailty could 
 trust himself to-day out on that heaving, tigerish waste 
 of waters and live." 
 
 " You used to love the sea, Mary." 
 
 " I used to love " some bitterness curled her lip 
 " many things. Now, what I have to do is to send a 
 message, Jim. And if possible it should be sent at 
 once. A message by wire from the station over at 
 Waldeck. But it may be softer weather to-morrow." 
 
 " You've remembered what we say, here, about the 
 weather being ' soft ' sometimes," I answered grate- 
 fully. " But it is soft, for winter, Mary right down 
 soft; it won't be any softer for weeks. A boat's easy 
 managed out there, if you know how." I laughed 
 again. I had no fear, even of taking Mary over to 
 Waldeck. The sea was not running either stormy or 
 strong, to my way of thinking. 
 
 " Will you take my message over, then? " 
 
 " You wouldn't have to go? " 
 
 " No." She smiled. " I could write it down, and you
 
 A MESSAGE 15 
 
 could take it. And I " she added gravely " should 
 always be in your debt for a very, very great kindness." 
 
 " You get it ready, Mary," I said, blusteringly, for 
 I was disappointed and chagrined. A telegram had 
 been to my mind a sort of rite which demanded per- 
 sonal supervision. " You go and get it ready right 
 now, and I'll take it over." 
 
 "My good brother Jim," she said, with eloquent 
 eyes ; and with that I had to make myself content, just 
 a good brother waiting there to go out and cross the 
 winter bay for her, who was no sister to me, but so 
 much my heart's desire that every sense of my body 
 ached stupidly. Then I got to thinking of her, and 
 what the message probably was. I knew, before she 
 came back to me with it, a folded slip of paper that 
 I buttoned up in my inner pocket. Then I hesitated. 
 
 " It isn't sealed orders, to me," I said. " I I'm 
 afraid I know what you are going to do." 
 
 " Well? " 
 
 " You are going to give up your position that 
 you've been working for all these years." 
 
 Her face was pale and set, but she kept her pleasant 
 humor. " You are a wizard, Jim. You have something 
 far and away beyond advantages : you can read writing 
 up a flight of stairs and behind doors. You " 
 
 " Yes, I can," I said. '* I can read it all right every 
 time. But you just stop and think, Mary. Some other 
 woman could manage this miserable business here. But 
 you! Good Lord ! " 
 
 " It's my mother and my brother, Jim. It's my 
 mother. I have ' thought,' never fear. I have made 
 up my mind. Say no more about it."
 
 16 POWER LOT 
 
 " You ain't fit for it. You're fit for the place you've 
 been filling back there. You've no right to go and 
 knock it all over. It's it's burying yourself alive." 
 
 She put her hand lightly on my rough coat, but 
 somehow it impelled me toward the door. She smiled 
 again in that moment as we stood looking off from the 
 heights of Power Lot. 
 
 " ' Buried alive,' " she repeated, her lip twitching ; 
 " this is more like a vantage ground for ascension. 
 Don't you think so, Jim? " 
 
 " All right, you can smile, now. It will kill you inch 
 by inch, though, as you go on. It will break your 
 heart. You've got used to such different things and 
 the ambition of you my Lord ! And you've changed. 
 Why, when I first saw you I thought I'd have to say 
 * Miss Stingaree.' I think so now half the time when I 
 look at you." 
 
 " ' Miss Stingaree ' would forsake this and go back 
 to her business? " 
 
 " Yes, and she'd have a good right to do it." 
 
 " What would * Mary ' do, according to what you 
 remember of her? " 
 
 She was looking at me so intensely she seemed to for- 
 get that my big body was there covering my soul. She 
 fished up my soul and I had to see it the way it was. 
 And I had to speak, too, and speak quick. 
 
 " Oh, d n," I swore, " she'd 'a' stayed." 
 
 "There's so much of 'Mary' left in me that it 
 bothers me, Jim," she said, in her whimsical way, but 
 I thought there was a dash of honest fretfulness in it. 
 " Mother clings to me. And Bate the case is des- 
 perate altogether. It seems to demand someone of their
 
 A MESSAGE 17 
 
 own, who is bound by duty, and who understands and 
 can have patience. I tried to think it was common 
 sense to go. I could earn money for them back there, 
 but I can't go. And when you can't go there's no way 
 but to stay. I thought you would have been glad to 
 have me stay." 
 
 " I reckon, I was a-thinkin' of you." 
 
 " Perhaps you were. You used to have a habit, quite 
 strong, of letting your thoughts go moonshining about 
 in the interests of other people. I dare say it has 
 grown upon you, as bad habits do." 
 
 It isn't any fun to have eyes like Mary Stingaree's 
 caressing of you, when it's all got to stop there, and 
 your part is just to plod out the path of the good 
 brother. I stepped outside for a bluff, as though I was 
 sick of the house air and wanted to make off. 
 
 " Well, I'll take your message over," says I. 
 " There's a Hand at the helium somewhere," says I. 
 " I reckon on finding that out for sure some day. 
 Meanwhile I'm steerin' the best I know, in the dark. 
 But you take it from me, that it's plumb in the 
 dark." 
 
 I won't forget that it's dark, Jim." 
 
 My head cleared when I got out on the bay, and 
 steering was all the business in hand for me. I let it 
 go, that about Mary; the mystery of it. A great, 
 faithful ambition, to reach its hill-height, and then get 
 knocked in the head and stunned in the heart like I 
 knew the case was with Mary. 
 
 So many books she had sent to me, to try to lead me 
 on a bit. But I couldn't remember much to the point 
 in them to help just now, except what an old blind man
 
 18 POWER LOT 
 
 who sold his writings for a few pounds said once, to 
 " Steer right on." 
 
 Sailor or landsman, he had the trick. And, con- 
 sidering the circumstances, his words sang down to 
 me carrying mighty weight with them, 
 
 " Nor bate one jot of heart or hope, 
 But steer right on." 
 
 That old blind man, working away for little or noth- 
 ing, either of love or money or appreciation, he got the 
 whole voyage down on his chart in just those twelve 
 words.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 WITHOUT HIS LATCHKEY 
 
 SOME time later it was my business to sail a person by 
 the name of Mr. Robert Hilton over from Waldeck to 
 Power Lot. 
 
 He was a big, -tall, handsome, stylish fellow, and he 
 recognized me as the person who had come to meet him 
 with a grin that sort of mellowed my heart toward him 
 in spite of all I had heard about him. 
 
 " Cap'n Turbine, ain't it? " he inquired politely and 
 solicitously " Cap'n Jim Turbine? " 
 
 " Sure." 
 
 I got him and his luggage aboard. The boat lay 
 over to a stiff wind and pelted along on her side. My 
 passenger hunched up his richly fur-coated frame as 
 a shield against the wind and attempted to light a 
 cigarette. Any number of times he was baffled by the 
 rude force of the elements, but he showed a hopeful 
 persistence. Patience, too, and ' a gentlemanly and 
 modified use of cuss words. " Holy thunder ! " he ex- 
 claimed once, as a blast tipped his hat aside and 
 whistled in his ears. But he only grinned appreciatively 
 at me as the bit of paper clinched between his lips went 
 out in blackness again. He fumbled meditatively in his 
 vest pocket in a vague searching for something that 
 was not there. 
 
 19
 
 20 POWER LOT 
 
 " Gad ! they've cribbed my latchkey too, blame take 
 'em ! " he said with reproachful sorrow. 
 
 He could talk pretty straight, though there was an 
 atmosphere about him as of one pickled, and quite long 
 pickled, with grog, and as if he had, moreover, taken a 
 fresh exhaustive turn at the fountain just before em- 
 barking. 
 
 " What is there in it, up here on this blame Peary 
 exp'dition, huntin' up 'xplorers' remains 'round the 
 north pole, to reform me, eh? " he inquired confi- 
 dentially. 
 
 " Say, you better ask me something easier," said I. 
 
 " So I will," he responded obediently. " I'm from 
 New York, Cap'n Turbine been four days an' nights 
 by rail gettin' to that little station back there didn't 
 know there was such a place as this within four days 
 o' New York never dreamed o' such a thing very 
 fine country, Cap'n very fine sea view scenery hie 
 said he, humping himself down in complete oblivion of 
 the ocean sublimities spread wide before him " but 
 New York's a great place too, Cap'n Turbine great 
 place, New York." 
 
 "You wish you were back there right now, don't 
 you? " I called to him cheerfully, for after all there 
 was something pretty brave about him. 
 
 " I do," said he, solemnly and confidingly, reaching 
 out his hand to me. " I do, Cap'n." 
 
 He seemed to be thinking of laying himself by for a 
 prolonged nap, so I tried a bracer of a question on him. 
 I didn't want, just for his own sake, to bring him into 
 port like so much sack-goods. 
 
 " Say, are you a specimen of New York young men
 
 WITHOUT HIS LATCHKEY 21 
 
 generally ? " I shouted at him through the wind. " Hear 
 what I say?" 
 
 His eyes glinted, like the eyes of a gentleman who 
 condones ill behavior from one naturally boorish and 
 benighted. 
 
 " I am not," he said. 
 
 " Still," said I, shouting another bracer at him, " I 
 guess you had company enough so as you didn't get 
 lonesome, eh? " 
 
 He ignored me for the thoughts of the past that 
 swept over him. They were plain to see on his face, 
 and brought a pang that righted him a bit. His face 
 was sadder to see in that haggard despair because its 
 natural expression was as sunny as any ever I've seen 
 in this vale of tears. So I watched that suddenly old, 
 sad face, wishing that I had a morsel by way of comfort 
 for him and knowing all the time that what he needed, if 
 he was going to come into port on his legs, was a bracer, 
 and still a bracer, and again a bracer. 
 
 " Wake up ! " I called. " Can't you answer a man's 
 question? " 
 
 Deliberately he lifted his head that had been bowed 
 on his hands, and his blue eyes still condoned me and my 
 ignorant offenses of speech and manner. He smiled at 
 me kindly, pathetically. 
 
 " Jim Cap'n Turbine," said he, " I've had too much 
 latchkey, firs' an' las', un'stan'? I say," he repeated 
 impressively, pointing his finger at me, " do you un'- 
 erstan' that remark?" 
 
 He had taken command of the whole situation with 
 his fixed gaze and uplifted finger, and I thought it best 
 to let him stay on top and get interested if he could.
 
 22 POWER LOT 
 
 " Yes, sir," I replied meekly, " I understand." 
 
 " I had two f rien's always with me us three 
 always together we three same size as me same age 
 as I fine boys great boys, Dick an' Charlie, an' 
 they're dead, Jim. So young, both of 'em, all of us, 
 an' they're gone, Jim. Too much latchkey" 
 
 " Swallow 'em ? " I asked, looking at him eagerly, 
 with open mouth. 
 
 He shook his head, smiling sickly, but the necessity 
 of superintending my ignorance on toward some light 
 kept him awake, and he straightened himself with a des- 
 perate effort. 
 
 " Let me 'xplain to you, Jim," said he, renewing his 
 solemn gaze. When I was a little shaver, my father 
 said to me, * Rob, when you're sixteen years old you 
 shall have latchkey too,' he said. Latchkey son 
 of millionaire New York City means hie pretty 
 good time. Not swallowin' latchkey, no, Jim but 
 havin' pretty good time." 
 
 " Couldn't you V used it decent? " 
 
 " I could, Jim," said my informer, still in his supe- 
 rior monitory fashion, " but I didn't." 
 
 I knew his story already. I was not taking him off 
 his guard, but I'd got to keep him awake telling it, 
 himself. 
 
 Tears had come to his eyes at the thought of 
 " Dick and Charlie," and in speaking his father's name. 
 Above all just now he felt that he had to overcome 
 my ignorance and stupidity, and he nerved himself 
 heroically for the task. 
 
 " Lis'n, Jim ! Latchkey New York feller like me 
 father, mother, dead, big house all your own way
 
 WITHOUT HIS LATCHKEY 23 
 
 nice fellers for your frien's means hie means 
 two o'clock in the mornin', Jim." 
 
 He smiled indulgently, and gave evidences of sinking 
 off into repose. 
 
 " Now, you listen," I cried, " you listen to me! " 
 
 His look of supreme forbearance changed to an ugly 
 darkening of the eyes as I went on ; but he grew alert. 
 
 " One fine day " I shouted at him from the helm, 
 through the roar of wind and wave " one fine day, 
 about noon, as usual, you were stretching and yawning 
 on your soft bed preliminary to getting up, but when 
 you tried to get up you found you couldn't. You 
 found your legs wouldn't hold you. That was a beauti- 
 ful room where you lay staring for a minute straight 
 at the ceiling, with your heart broken, and no wonder, 
 poor lad; but you're all right again now and as fine 
 built a fellow as ever sat slobbering tipsy as a fool in 
 an honest man's boat. But say, that was a beautiful 
 room you had back there in your brown stone house; 
 you had that room frescoed to suit yourself, peaches 
 and grape vines and bunches o' grapes and baskets o' 
 grapes an' bacchanalian figgers flyin' all around the 
 walls an 5 ceilings " 
 
 " How in thunder, you clodhopper," he bawled back 
 at me, in angry scorn, " do you know anything about 
 frescoes an' ' bacchanalian figures ' ? " 
 
 " I got an example right before me," I calls. 
 
 " Call this bacchanalian 'round here? " he snorted. 
 " I call it wild and cold as hell." 
 
 " Call it what you like," I challenged him. " I'm 
 going on with my story. I'm a wizard. You didn't 
 know that? Well, you listen. This fine fellow in this
 
 24 POWER LOT 
 
 beautiful room, he touches a button at the head of his 
 bed, and a man-servant comes in, and he sends him for 
 the family doctor. That doctor, that cared for his 
 father and mother, has grown to be one of the most 
 famous medical men in that big city, in the world for 
 that matter, and he takes a special interest in this young 
 fellow, by reason of having known and loved his father ; 
 and he works over him and stands by him, giving him 
 the most patient, skillful medical aid in the land for 
 weeks together, until this young fellow can walk again. 
 Is there anything familiar in this narration?" 
 
 " If you weren't such a boor, I'd knock you down," 
 said he, nostrils quivering and eyes a-glowing black by 
 this time. " People that know anything don't deal in 
 personalities." 
 
 " I'm nothin' but a fly-away wizard of the north," I 
 responded. " Just hear me. This young fellow could 
 walk again. But this good doctor says to him, * Rob, 
 whisky and brandy and rum and champagne and 
 cigarettes have got to be dropped,' says he, ' and you're 
 young, only twenty-five, your constitution '11 bring 
 you out of this for good and all. But, go back to 
 whisky and brandy and rum and champagne and cigar- 
 ettes, the way you been a-doin' ,' says he, ' and you'll 
 get foundered again, and next time, neither I nor any 
 other doctor '11 be able to bring you out of it,' says he. 
 Now, Mr. Hilton, did I hear that doctor's warnin' 
 aright as I went flyin' past on my broomstick? " 
 
 "D n you!" says Rob, gritting his teeth, "if 
 you weren't a hairy wild man that never smelled civ- 
 ilization ' 
 
 " You pause on interruptin' me," I roared, " or I'll
 
 WITHOUT HIS LATCHKEY 25 
 
 wipe the deck with ye. Now I got a question to ask 
 ye. Did that young man quit, the way the doctor told 
 him? Did he? Anybody but a lunatic or a coward 
 would 'a 5 quit. Now, did he quit? " 
 
 I had my man on his feet at last. The boat leaped 
 to another wave, and he staggered and lunged over and 
 sat, sick and quiet, huddled in a heap again. 
 
 " You listenin' to the magician ? " I called. He 
 roused himself, and his angry eyes met mine with sullen 
 hate and contempt. If I could keep him interested a 
 while longer I believed that I could bring him into port 
 on his legs. 
 
 " No, no, he didn't quit," says I, loud. There was 
 nobody but Rob and the sea to hear. " Oh, no, he 
 didn't quit. He sat on the fence for a day or two, then 
 he went at it again, whisky and brandy and rum and 
 champagne and cigarettes, and all his other nice 
 habits. He went into 'em again as hearty and devoted 
 as a hog to its trough. Lord, I couldn't help crying 
 myself as I swep' past on my broomstick. He was such 
 a handsome fellow. In shape and feature the Lord had 
 made him for the heavenly hosts and all he wanted was 
 a pig sty ! Such a generous, patient, fine fellow a gen- 
 tleman. What wouldn't I give if I could 'a' had his 
 training? Lord, it doesn't seem to me I'd 'a' thrown 
 it all away." 
 
 I was feeling what I said pretty deep, and I set my 
 face to the helm. Rob was silent for some minutes. I 
 did not look his way, but I knew he was awake, study- 
 ing me. 
 
 " Cap'n " he cleared his throat at last " Cap'n 
 Turbine?"
 
 26 POWER LOT 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Any fellow that says you're not a gentleman '11 get 
 the size o' my fist. But look here, Cap'n." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Who told you all that?" 
 
 " I guess a gentleman wouldn't tell, would he? " 
 
 "No! Fact! He wouldn't tell. Don't you think, 
 though, it was a dirty trick, when I was packed off 
 here to get me away from the past, to go and send 
 all the details of a fellow's record on ahead of 
 him?" 
 
 " Nobody knows it, and nobody's going to know it, 
 but Mary and me. You can trust Mary and you can 
 trust me." 
 
 "Your wife, Jim?" 
 
 " Lord ! " said I, and I felt my face burning sum- 
 mer, though it was March out there on the bay. 
 
 " Beg your pardon, Jim." 
 
 " She's not my wife, and she's not my sweetheart. 
 She's a top-notcher way beyond me. She's one o' 
 your sort, by education and by nature, though she was 
 born up to Power Lot, God Help Us." 
 
 " I haven't any education, Jim. I shirked all that. 
 I've been at the pig-trough, as you say. Haven't even 
 gone in for athletics. Travel New York wherever 
 I was I was mostly with my nose in the trough all 
 the time, Jim. So, 'ceptin' you and * Mary ' they 
 won't know about it there where I'm goin'? " 
 
 No." 
 
 " When you were flyin' along on your broomstick " 
 he smiled appreciatively ; he seemed to have a mortal 
 weakness for relapsing into good nature " did they
 
 WITHOUT HIS LATCHKEY 27 
 
 tell you how they worked it to get me off here, this 
 hie hie unseason'ble time o' year? " 
 
 "Something. Yes." 
 
 " Said my money said my fortune was in temp'rary 
 anyway 'clipse hie eclipse, and I got to go to 
 work to earn my bread. You believe that d n rot? " 
 
 " I believe you've got to go to work if you have any- 
 thing to eat. Yes." 
 
 " Do you believe " said he, transfixing me with 
 his solemn look and monitory finger again " that my 
 fortune's gone into 'clipse? " 
 
 " It looks to me as though you were in as desperate 
 a fix as I ever saw a fellow," said I. 
 
 He regarded me mournfully, like a child unconvinced 
 but despairing of candor in his subjects. 
 
 " It looks t' me," said he, " as though they took 
 'vantage of a feller's c'ndition to play nasty joke on 
 'im doctor lawyer business man'ger all. But I 
 ain't dead yet, Jim. I'll put 'em where they b'long." 
 
 It was running in my head what I had heard the 
 doctor said that it was a case for surgery, of cutting 
 Rob off from his income, his associates, and his latch- 
 key ; that decrepitude and death lay quickly waiting 
 for him along the old lines, premature paralysis and 
 untimely death ; that his one and only chance for man- 
 hood and life itself lay in the application of heroic treat- 
 ment ; lay, in fact, in poverty, deprivation, hardship, 
 work. I understood that, when and if he got the 
 fiber of a man again physically and morally his worldly 
 fortune would be waiting for him, only augmented by 
 this interregnum in his spendthrift pleasures. Still he 
 kept awake. He was studying me narrowly.
 
 28 POWER LOT 
 
 "You seem to know everything. Why tlidn' they 
 send me 'broad again like a Christian, 'stead o' up here 
 *o t.he end o' Nowhere? " 
 
 More bracing for labor here." 
 
 ** How'd they come to know o' this glash glashial 
 resort? " 
 
 " Well, you see, Mary Stingaree had a classmate that 
 was the daughter of this doctor o' yours. She set the 
 world and all by Mary, got her to go home with her 
 vacations. So the doctor got acquainted with her too ; 
 and that's how he arranged for you to rent some o' the 
 Stingaree farm so as you could earn your living." 
 
 Rob leaned over and laughed feebly. 
 
 " Jim," said he, " how c'n you keep your ol' hearse of 
 a face straight? That's what s'prises me. * The worl' 
 's a stage, an' all the men an' women merely players. 
 
 They have their ex hie exi's an' their ' Blame 
 
 'em ! " he suddenly cried out " they might 't least 'a' 
 sent my man along with me." 
 
 "Your man?" 
 
 "My valet, d n it!" 
 
 " Oh, it'll be all you can do to feed one. You'll have 
 to scratch like the devil to do that. You won't be able 
 to support any encumbrances up here. But you'll like 
 it. Say, I'll bet a million you'll like it, when you get 
 your sea legs on and get things humming. Why, you're 
 a regular picture o' them old Norsemen I've read 
 about, come down in a straight line, Olaf Segul 
 T'or " 
 
 " T'or be d d ! " said Rob, exceeding bitterly, his 
 head in his hands. 
 
 "Why don't ye look about ye?" I cried. "It's
 
 WITHOUT HIS LATCHKEY 29 
 
 great. It's tremendous. It's worth all the rotten cities 
 in the universe. It's God A'mighty. Just look ! " 
 
 " I c'n hear 'nough of it," he moaned, " without 
 lookin'." 
 
 " Oh, come, Rob," said I, " come on, shipmate. Get 
 up on your feet and hold your head in the air. Livin' 
 or dyin', fear nothin' nor nobody, by Csesar! Say, 
 don't turn ship about now, and run before the gale, 
 like you was afraid. No, sir, you won't do that ; you're 
 too big, you're a long sight too brave. Drive her on. 
 Meet the swell, meet the breakers. Drive her on, to 
 port!" 
 
 " Jim," said he, courteously, with a confiding air of 
 bravado, " give 's your hand on it."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 UP THE HILL 
 
 THERE was a curious, and, I felt, an altogether un- 
 necessarily large group down by the shore to meet me 
 on my arrival with my passenger. My comings were 
 usually executed lonely and in silence. 
 
 Silent was the group, now, until Rob's tall silk hat 
 began to dawn upon them. He had started from New 
 York with an appropriate paraphernalia of headgear 
 in his hat box, derby, soft felt, traveling cap, fur 
 cap to match his sealskin overcoat, but he had, per- 
 haps, staked what came most handy in the little games 
 of chance with which he had beguiled the tedious jour- 
 ney; anyway, when I met him. he had survived with 
 only this dandy silk hat which now settled down softly, 
 dripping with sea-dew, on the short barber-trained 
 waves of his tawny hair. 
 
 The first intimation that the awe on the part of the 
 onlookers was broken came in a running voluntary of 
 giggles from some observant boys. 
 
 " Preachin' service next Sunday," said one to his 
 elbow-mate, and showed his broad teeth in hilarity. 
 
 " 'Tain't a preacher neither," responded seriously the 
 one addressed ; " it's a sewin'-machine agent." 
 
 "Oh, shet up," said a third. "See them trunks. 
 It's a candy-sample runner, an' a wholesale one too, by 
 gosh!" 
 
 30
 
 UP THE HILL 31 
 
 As all three watered at the mouth under this con- 
 clusion, Rob rose in sickly fashion, surveyed the wet 
 shoals of the beach, rolled up the trousers from his 
 dainty boots displaying some blue silk stockings with 
 pink ornamentations on 'em, a diamond ring on his 
 finger flashing brilliantly as he performed this feat. 
 
 Then he touched earth, and swaggered unsteadily 
 forward. There must have been some red dye in the 
 silk lining of his hat ; it had soaked down coldly on to 
 his cheeks, and there was no question but that he looked 
 theatrical. 
 
 The boys grew bolder, and gave the lively steed of 
 their fancy free rein. 
 
 "Say, Mister, when does your show open? " 
 
 " Say, Mister, which o' them boxes you got the per- 
 formin' puppies in? " 
 
 " I'll show you," said Rob, catching his breath and 
 leaning up against a bowlder, " I'll show you a* right, 
 one o' these days, boys, what hie what box the hie 
 the performin' puppies are in." 
 
 His voice was soft and sweet, coming from such a 
 huge bulk. He appeared larger by reason of his coat- 
 ing of seal fur. They knew not that the seal fur might, 
 possibly, be deceptive; that, it might be possible, an 
 angry lion lay tortured in Rob Hilton's breast. His 
 voice was plaintive and sweet, his cheeks ludicrously 
 painted, and he had to lean against a bowlder for 
 support. 
 
 " Say," piped one shrill voice, overstepping all 
 bounds, and taking the safeguard of flight as he yelled, 
 " gi' me a free ticket, an' I'll wash yer face for ye." 
 
 " Belay thar," bellowed Captain Belcher, driving a
 
 32 POWER LOT 
 
 pair of oxen to the front. " Belay thar, you suckers, 
 he's my man." Captain Belcher advanced toward 
 Rob with outstretched hand. " Ye're welcome, young 
 swell," he roared breezily. " Ye're welcome, Mr. 
 ahem Mr. Daisy Lee. Have I named ye by the right 
 handle? How d' do? How d' do?" There was abun- 
 dant good nature in his voice, unable to quell, however, 
 the promptitude of wit which surged as a fountain 
 within him. 
 
 " My name is not * Lee,' " said Rob surlily. 
 
 "No? Wai', we'll get things goin' by the right 
 crank arter a while. Anything '11 do so as it '11 churn 
 the butter, ye know. Ho, ho ! Ho, ho ! " 
 
 The wild shore rang with the buoyant laughter of 
 Captain Belcher and his attendant group. 
 
 " It's nice to be smart," said Rob, extremely cyn- 
 ically, from his bowlder, " and so d d funny." He 
 kept his hands in his pockets, disdaining the overture of 
 Captain Belcher's great outstretched fist. Captain 
 Belcher eyed him. He was a man of turbulent passions 
 when roused. I waited a bit apprehensively. But Rob 
 had got to fight his own battles. That was part of the 
 day's work. If a man gets too tipsy to stand up for 
 himself, and still takes a sly pull at the bottle when- 
 ever he gets a chance, he may as well have his eye- 
 openers come in the natural way. Captain Belcher's 
 regard of the handsome weakling leaning unsteadily 
 against the bowlder changed from indignation to con- 
 tempt. He turned to boisterous action. 
 
 " Now then, boys, all together. Let's heave this 
 cargo aboard. The kerridge is at the door." He 
 indicated thus humorously the ox-cart half buried in
 
 UP THE HILL 33 
 
 the surf, a coarse structure set up on thundrous 
 wheels. " Now boys, all together. Heave 'er up. By 
 the looks o' your dunnage you're reckoning on spend- 
 in* some time with us, Mr. Lee." 
 
 " Sure, I brought 'nough to change my shirt once 
 'n while," replied Rob, with meaning, his already 
 nauseated vision fixed unpleasantly on Captain Belcher's 
 soiled " linen." 
 
 "That's right. Hope ye'll marry an' settle right 
 down here," retorted the now imperturbable captain. 
 " Sorry I ain't got a closed cab for ye. I was engaged 
 ter haul ye up, an' that 'ar team o' oxen's all I got to 
 show on the road. What d' ye say to it? Don't mind 
 my feelin's I'm used to havin' 'em hurted." 
 
 " Did you make it y'rself ? " queried Rob, contem- 
 plating the grotesque equipage with plausible curiosity. 
 
 " I made the cart, Mr. Lee. One whose name I 
 always mentions with awe made the oxen." 
 
 A joyful laugh went up all around Rob. 
 
 " Say, Belcher," inquired one, eagerly, " ye go'n* 
 ter haul 'em up Joggins, or the steep way? " 
 
 " I'm goin' up the steep way," replied Captain 
 Belcher without hesitation, thoughtfully eliminating a 
 strain from his quid of tobacco. " My oxen has jest 
 been calked, they'll scrabble to it, I reckon; an' per- 
 haps the view '11 kind o' wake up Daisy, here. He'll 
 be glad he come, I bet, when he sees what a view we got. 
 We got a view, by Tar, to knock the Alps endways. 
 All aboard, Mr. Lee. My fagan, here, '11 only carry 
 one passenger aside the trunks, an' you're that pas- 
 senger by birth, eddication, an' good looks. Ef I'd 
 only been born to ride instead o' walk ! When I'm in a
 
 84 POWER LOT 
 
 boat I git a chanct to set down an' ride, but ol' mother 
 earth has allus called on me to hoof it. Git aboard." 
 
 " I fancy I'll walk, too," said Rob, lurching forward 
 but he could not. With the long sail and the bleak 
 chill of the wind added to his potations, he could not. 
 
 " Heave, ho. Heave yerself up thar 'longside yer 
 stowage," commanded Captain Belcher cheerfully, in 
 a bellow that seemed to cow the very elements. " Set 
 down on that balk of timber I've laid for ye athwart the 
 gun'els o' the cart. Thar now. Feel yer moorin's? 
 We'll warp ye up to Power Lot, God Help Us, somehow. 
 Gee, haw! Giddup, Buck. Giddup, Bill. Giddup." 
 A resonant crack of his whip started the procession. 
 The " balk of timber " was securely held in place by 
 the trunks, which were chained to the floor and cross- 
 beams of the cart. The cart itself bore evidence of 
 having served recently as a loud instrument in the pur- 
 veying of guano. Rob rolled up his trousers still higher 
 and gathered his garments close about him. 
 
 " He's reef in* all but his jib," commented an on- 
 looker. 
 
 " Say, watch him wrop himself up in his fur polinay," 
 exclaimed a delighted boy, with breezy directness. 
 
 Rob had a way usually of carrying himself at ease. 
 He sat, gnawing his mustache, remotely sad, in spite 
 of the animated group surrounding the cart. 
 
 " Does all this rabble belong where I'm goin' ? " 
 he inquired presently, with sour emphasis. 
 
 " No," responded Captain Belcher ; " but events has 
 so transpired as ter bring about a picnic for 'em early 
 in the season this year, an' these 'ere innercent 
 monkeys, blame' ef they ain't takin' advantage of it."
 
 UP THE HILL 35 
 
 " I s'pose there's no way 'round here of making 
 people mind their own business? " Rob flashed a look 
 of hate at his blowsy following. 
 
 " Mebby. Mebby," said Captain Belcher reflec- 
 tively : " that's somethin' ye'll have ter 'tend to when 
 ye can stand on yer own pins, Daisy. Meanwhiles 
 it's my 'dvice you jest take what comes, without callin' 
 no more 'tention to yerself 'n you can help. Tell ye 
 the plain truth, ye're more conspikerous anyway 'n 
 what I reckoned on when I agreed ter haul ye up the 
 hill." 
 
 " Shut your mouth," suddenly cried Rob, doubling 
 his fists. 
 
 " 'Tain't safe," Captain Belcher roared back at him 
 pleasantly. " Tell ye, 'tain't safe. Let me shet my 
 mouth, an' these 'ere oxen'd balk an' back, mebby ; an' 
 them an' you'd roll back'ards down into why, jest 
 look back o' ye! Gee, Buck. Gee thar. Whar in doom 
 ye goin' to? Giddup. Giddup." An alarming man- 
 date of the whip exploded in Rob's ears, as he turned. 
 
 He shivered at the stupendous scene spread below 
 him, and turned his head quickly again only to meet 
 the awful upward vista of the steeps on which he hung 
 poised. His heart sickened, his very flesh crawled 
 inwardly. 
 
 " Sure the stick that holds your beasts on to this 
 cart is firm?" He spoke very meekly. 
 
 " By the holy Sewin'-Circle, I hope so ! " bawled 
 Captain Belcher bluffly. " I was haulin' a mess o' 
 women up the hill onct with this 'ere same cart an s 
 tackle, when the thole-pin broke, and by the Great 
 Mothers' Meetin', of all the jumpin' out! Don't you
 
 36 POWER LOT 
 
 never tell me wimmcn ain't qualified to jump. Don't 
 say a word. I ain't seen jumpin' before nor since. 
 Giddup, Buck. What in doom you balkin' for? 
 Giddup." 
 
 A sensation of horrible dizziness was coming over 
 Rob. He dared not look behind him again. 
 
 " Most hills out in the country wind around more, 
 and have some level breathing places," he suggested 
 faintly. 
 
 " I wish 't you'd brought some o' that kind along 
 with ye," blustered Captain Belcher. "This 'ere old 
 hill has been foun* fault with, an' brought up in town- 
 meetin', an' condemned, an' ' 
 
 " Stop your cart," gasped Rob, " I'm cold I want 
 to walk." 
 
 " Stop my cart here Daisy? Not unless 't you want 
 ter start fresh an' go back'ards." 
 
 Rob leaped wildly over his boxes, and sprang to 
 earth, sprawling. The color slowly throbbed back to 
 his cheeks as he rose. He gave a blissful sigh. 
 
 " Walkin' 's good enough for me," he asserted to 
 his staring attendants. He seemed inclined to be 
 friendly, like one suddenly rescued from fearful peril. 
 
 " Say," he went on conversationally ; " that was 
 awful. Say, boys, I wouldn't get into that cart an' 
 ride up this hill again for a thousand dollars. No by 
 cricky, I wouldn't for ten thousand." 
 
 " Pooh," said one bright-eyed lad, of stringy, leath- 
 ery frame ; " what '11 ye give me ter ride up ? " 
 
 Rob had become genial. He fumbled in his pockets 
 and drew out some silver. The lad leaped blithely over 
 the cart wheels to the summit of the trunks, balanced
 
 STOP YOUR CART," GASPED ROB, 
 TO WALK." 
 
 I'M COLD I WANT
 
 UP THE HILL 37 
 
 himself on one foot, and thus derisively accosted the 
 giddy pitch of the hill before him : 
 
 " Oh, my ! I'm afraid of ye. Oh, don't ye look 
 steep! Oh, my! Guess the oxen '11 sure git stuck on 
 this 'ere hummock I'm comin' to, an' fall down an' go 
 back'ards, an' me an' the cart an' oxen go roll rollity, 
 bump-bumpity oh, my! Guess I'll turn 'round an' 
 see where we'll go to." 
 
 He swung around with a flourish, poised himself on 
 the other foot to meet the emergencies of the incline 
 and waved his dirty little paw with a comprehensive- 
 ness that smacked of contempt toward the distant Bay 
 of Fundy, the nearer Basin, the eastward stretch of 
 river, toward precipice and solemn woods, toward sea 
 and land. 
 
 "How d' do?" said he familiarly. "Ye're lookin' 
 fine. Now let's see where I'll go to when me an' the cart 
 an' oxen git going back'ards. We'll slew around an' 
 bounce the fence by Job's pastur', an' then arter we 
 rolled a while we'll make a lap over the school'us' bel- 
 f rey down there, an' knock the trimmin's off the Baptis' 
 steeple, an' " 
 
 " That'll do, sonny," Rob interrupted, with a pale 
 and weary smile; "you've earned your money. Get 
 down off of that. You make me sick." 
 
 Rob had taken off his fur overcoat in an effort to 
 keep up with this climbing company. In spite of the 
 cold wind, the perspiration stood out on his face in 
 heavy drops. 
 
 " Is there any top to this business? " he asked, hoarse 
 with weakness, of Captain Belcher. 
 
 " Last time I came up this hill, she had a top to *er,"
 
 38 POWER LOT 
 
 replied the captain ; " but somethin' may 'a' happened 
 sence. Run on ahead there, some o' you monkeys, an' 
 see ef the top's gone off'n this hill." 
 
 " The trees hides it," piped an honest voice. " Thar's 
 a great flat top, an' Power Lot's up thar, too. Say, 
 Mister," continued this white-haired youngster, ap- 
 proaching Rob in all innocence with a bottle held in 
 his hand, " here's somethin' jest dropped outer the 
 pocket o' yer hairy coat." 
 
 Rob's face was not capable of a deeper crimson than 
 that it had already assumed through his exertions to 
 keep up, with the rest in mounting the hill. He stretched 
 forth his hand, however, with nonchalant nimbleness. 
 
 " Doctor's medicine," he explained fatuously " keep 
 me from takin' cold." 
 
 Captain Belcher regarded him with an insidious wink, 
 and cleared his own throat with a bluster of vital sound- 
 ness. " Seems ter me I got a little tetch o' sore throat 
 comin' on myself," he subjoined. " I reckon you an' 
 me ketch cold kind o' easy, don't we, Mr. Lee? What 
 is yer prescription, thar? Peruny? Cherry Pictorial? 
 Scott's Emulation? Plain Sassaprilly, mebby? all the 
 same so long as it's got the force to shoot down mid- 
 channel an' wallop the center o' disease. Let's smell 
 the label." 
 
 Rob laughed, and resigned the bottle with quick and 
 generous courtesy. 
 
 The captain tasted, and smacked his lips. "Mis' 
 Wunslow's Soothin' Syrup," he remarked judicially; 
 " jest what I thought. Yes, that was put up by Mis' 
 Wunslow. Ahem. Wai' Haw, thar, Buck. What you 
 makin' off inter the fir trees for? By Tar an* Bloaters,
 
 UP THE HILL 39 
 
 you two brute critturs has got ter git to the top o' this 
 hill, an' why in nation don't ye brace to it? Giddup. 
 Giddup." 
 
 In the supreme necessity of goading his oxen to en- 
 deavor, Captain Belcher had inadvertently consigned 
 the bottle to his own pocket; but his mind presently 
 reverted with undimmed clearness to the subject in 
 hand. 
 
 "Ahem, yes, Soothin' Syrup very soothiner 'n 
 h 1; but we got a prescription 'round here 't '11 
 knock the stuffin' outer a cold while that 'ere stuff 
 you're luggin' 'round with ye has ter lay by an' look 
 on in 'stonishment, Mr. Lee." 
 
 " ' Hilton,' if you please, sir, not * Lee,' " said Rob, 
 his lips tightening and the light of manhood suddenly 
 waking in his sweat-begrimed eyes ; " and, if you'll re- 
 member, it's not I that's * luggin' the stuff ' now. It's 
 you" 
 
 " Sure," said the cheerful captain, unabashed. " I'm 
 boun' ter call ye ' Hilton ' all right, soon as ye worry 
 up ter the top o' this hill. And you're doin' great 
 hoof-work, considerin' the pitch, an' how you ain't use 
 to it. Great ! 'T looks ter me as though ye'd make it. 
 An' then me an' these boys air a-goin' ter wave our caps 
 an' hurray for Mr. Hiltop ain't we, boys? " 
 
 " ' Hilton,' you clown," Rob blurted out, in revenge- 
 ful distress, his breath coming in short gasps. 
 " ' Hilton.' " 
 
 " Say, I c'd kick myself " expostulated Captain 
 Belcher reasonably " for not havin' no more memory. 
 1 Hilton Hilton 'Sure. That's it. Now I'm goin' 
 ter lay that away, jest the way it is, along o' the dried
 
 40 POWER LOT 
 
 sage an* boncset in my old garret here," he tapped his 
 forehead depreciatively. 
 
 " And remember, it's you that's carryin' the 
 ' stuff,' " Rob reminded him, bitterly. 
 
 " * Hilton.' Yes. Le' me see, what was I sayin' ? 
 Oh, yes we got a perscription 'round here, that's a 
 wonder-worker on any man what's predersposed to pul- 
 minary affectations. This 'ere perscription she's a 
 mericle." 
 
 " A what f " sniffed Rob. 
 
 " She's a mericle in her drawin', savin' power, that's 
 what she is. She sucks out the inflermation like a double 
 pad o' Griswol's OP Family Salve, that's what she does." 
 
 " Well, what is it? " said Rob, as testily as his gen- 
 eral contempt and indifference for the subject would 
 allow. 
 
 " It's she's ahem she consists of Giddup thar ! 
 giddup ! what ye yawin' all over the road for ! She 
 consists o' a plow, an' a shovel, an' a spade, an' a 
 hoe, an' other implements, an'inted every half -hour with 
 a gallon er two o' elbow-grease. She's a d n hard dose 
 ter take. I been a-takin' of her, all my life. But she 
 socks right down ter work an' does the job, every time. 
 She reds ye o' every pulminary affectation so clean ye 
 wouldn't know ye'd got any pulminary for affectations 
 ter light on. By the Livin' Wheelbarrow, I know what 
 I'm talkin' about too." 
 
 " That's lucky," Rob managed to sneer painfully, 
 his great overcoat sagging on his arm, his spent 
 breath coming in gasps that were almost sobs, as he 
 made another desperate effort to keep up with the pro- 
 cession ; " that's lucky, for / don't."
 
 UP THE HILL 41 
 
 " No, ye don't, Mr. Lee Mr. * Hilton,' as soon as 
 ye git to the top I won't forgit my 'ngageraents. No, 
 ye don't, but the medicine's waitin' for ye all right, and, 
 as man ter man, I wish ye the pluck ter swaller it with- 
 out kickin'. 'S I understand it, ye've rented a piece o' 
 the Stingaree land up yander, ter go ter f armin' ? " 
 
 " I have not," said Rob with apparently dying breath. 
 " I'm going back to New York first chance I can 
 get." 
 
 " Sho. Wai', brace up," said Captain Belcher, with 
 genuine commiseration, as he surveyed the exhausted 
 victim ; " brace up. We're most thar. Mebby now, 
 God A'mighty sent ye, arter all, in some kind o' katy- 
 cornered way ye don't see the lights of, yit." The ap- 
 peal of Rob's condition may be imagined, to draw forth 
 so tender a flight from the loud and reckless tongue of 
 Captain Belcher. " Say," he continued, " ye think ye 
 been misled about the aspecks an' fertility o' the 
 kentry?" 
 
 " I do," sobbed Rob, with an oath. 
 
 " Wai', I been sayin' to myself, you're a cur'ous kind 
 o' crittur ter be exploitin' 'round up here for ways 
 ter make yer livin'. Cur'ous. Nothin' o' the kind 
 that is, not adzackly ; no, nor anywheres near it was 
 ever sprung on us afore. Nothin', I mean, that is, so 
 kind o' ahem high-toned as you prob'ly was when 
 you started." 
 
 "I've had a dirty trick played on me, that's all," 
 muttered Rob. 
 
 " Joke, eh? " The captain's red face fairly cracked 
 in a grin of helpless sympathy for those on the other 
 side of the game. " Wai', never mind. You sharpen yer
 
 42 POWER LOT 
 
 claws 'round here a spell, so as you c'n raise Time 
 an' Turnover with 'em when you git back. Trick, eh? 
 Giddup. Giddup. Here we be. Say, there ain't 
 no view, nor nothin', 'round here, is there? " Captain 
 Belcher himself paused with his oxen for breath at 
 the summit. 
 
 " Say, jest cock yer eye off thar to wind'ard," he 
 continued, in that unaccustomed comment upon nature 
 which the presence of a stranger probably incited in 
 him. " Say, ef ye could put a few more oceans an* 
 continents, along with what the' already is a-layin' 
 off thar, it 'ud begin ter size up inter somethin' of an 
 aspcck, eh? " 
 
 Rob, still panting, purposely kept his back to the 
 vision, an angry and despairing growl in his eye. 
 
 " Perhaps ye'd rather look at things 'round nearer 
 hum' ? " suggested the captain. " Wai', that's Mary 
 Stingaree's place off thar, 'tother side the lane." 
 
 Rob saw, and turned with an unstifled groan to face 
 the terrors of the larger view. He shuddered, and once 
 more turned about. 
 
 " Don't feel so down-in-the-mouth," Captain Belcher 
 again entreated him kindly ; " it's good pertater land." 
 
 "What kind o' land?" Rob echoed, with the now 
 pallid ghost of a sneer. 
 
 " Good land f'r raisin' pertaters, ef ye take the fore- 
 sight ter lay on a top-dressin' o' fish-gurry an' " 
 
 " Spare me the particulars," interposed the fastidious 
 Rob, with a dying snarl. " I'll take your word for it." 
 
 " Why, I was jest goin' ter mention " there was an 
 inflection of chaste dignity and reproach in Captain 
 Belcher's tones " I was jest goin' ter mention a leetle
 
 UP THE HILL 43 
 
 kelp, 'r sea-weed, along o' the fish-gurry. Ye ain't so 
 qualmy but what ye c'n hear them mentioned, be ye? 
 I was tryin' ter ding it inter ye, 't a man with any 
 gumption 't all, even ef he had come off the nest kind 
 er half-baked, could cl'ar a hundred dollars a year off 'n 
 his pertaters, over 'n above livin' expenses ; pervided, of 
 course, 't he don't make a hog o' himself." 
 
 " And if he should make a hog of himself? " asked 
 Rob, in confiding satire. The struggle with the hill 
 had cleared his brain, and he spoke with treacherous 
 smoothness. 
 
 " Depends entirely," said Captain Belcher faithfully, 
 " on how much er a hog he makes er himself." 
 
 " Exactly. And if he doesn't make a hog of himself, 
 he clears a hundred dollars a year? " 
 
 " Ef the God o' the elements don't thwart him with 
 some queer ructions in the weather line, he does." 
 
 " You astonish me." 
 
 " I done it accidental, then." 
 
 " You fill me with ambition, with hope." There were 
 wild tears, nevertheless, in Rob's eyes. " When does 
 the next boat sail back to Waldeck? " 
 
 Captain Belcher shook his head. " Onsartain. Hit 
 or miss. Jest as it happens. Sometime, or no time. 
 Nothin' regular. Sure, we goes fishin' on the Basin, 
 an' a ways out inter the Bay, more or less, 'cordin' to 
 the weather, but take us, by an' large, we're more farm- 
 in' 'n what we use' ter be ; an' it's a pecooliar ledgy, 
 murderin', nasty long sail over ter Waldeck. Jim's 
 about the only one 'round here, now, 't associates, 
 reg'lar, along o' the gulls. The wood-packets they 
 make out, occasional', but the' 's no reckonin' on 'em,
 
 44 POWER LOT 
 
 and they're so leaky the eels shins up through their 
 bottoms." 
 
 "Where is Jim?" 
 
 " That's what we're allus askin'. He's here an' thar 
 Jim is ; mostly thar." 
 
 Laughter hung, open-mouthed, on the visages of the 
 surrounding group. 
 
 *' Are all this lot, that's tagged me up the hill, going 
 to the house with me? " Rob further complained from 
 the sodden depths of his despair. 
 
 " I 'low ye," Captain Belcher responded heartily, 
 " that ain't fair. See here, boys, Mr. Hilton is a-goin', 
 kind er petered-out, an' ahem all mussed-up, with his 
 long journey, ter meet a beautiful, highly eddicated 
 young lady, what you knows on, over yander. She 
 knocks the sand all outer me with them eyes o' hern 
 when I got my Sunday rig on. How d' ye suppose Mr. 
 Hilton feels ? all sweaty, an' sick's a cat at the aspecks 
 o' the kentry? Now you git hum'." 
 
 That Captain Belcher was a man of valiance was 
 exemplified by the obedient haste with which the group 
 dispersed, dodging off among the fir trees and bowlders 
 that surrounded the trail of the " Steep Way." 
 
 Rob and the captain, and the exceeding noise made by 
 the cart bearing the boxes, progressed toward the Sting- 
 aree house ; and that, it must be said, with a reluctance 
 on Rob's part that was well-nigh recalcitrant. 
 
 " Say, she is a han'some young woman, an' no mistake 
 Mary Stingaree is." Thus the captain attempted 
 to prod the jaded senses of the being beside him. But 
 Rob had another thought, and its essence was of the 
 lowest dregs of bitterness.
 
 UP THE HILL 45 
 
 " If you remember," he once more reminded the cap- 
 tain, " it's you that's carrying the stuff '." 
 
 " Don't mention it," shouted Captain Belcher ob- 
 liviously, in a tone of lordly willingness to oblige, but 
 he did not return the bottle to Rob's wistful hand ; 
 " don't never mention it. Allus glad ter do ye a favor 
 when I kin. Whoa thar', Buck. Whoa, Bill. I offered 
 to back ye up to the door, but I didn't want ye ter send 
 the cart clean through the house, dang ye."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 MAEY STINGAEEE 
 
 MAEY tried not to notice how Rob looked. As Captain 
 Belcher said to me afterwards : " Jim," says he, " I 
 was sorry fer 'im. Now don't you discount that one 
 mite. I was sorry fer 'im. I'd almost ruther he'd been 
 silly drunk; the' 's some excuse fer a man lookin' as 
 he done when he's drunk. As it was, when I persented 
 him to Mary, it looked an' appeared ter me as ef 
 I was persentin' somethin' 't lay hard on my stummick 
 as a natteral fool-jackass an' I wa'n't no ways rer- 
 sponsible for him, neither; but thar he was, hitched 
 ter my towline; an' me, as I looked at him, only jest 
 wishin' 't I could have a glass o' plain sody ter git my 
 stummick back whar it was afore I met him." 
 
 " Wasn't the pay you got for the job satisfactory, 
 Belcher? "I asked. 
 
 " Sure, sure. But no ordinary reckonin's wouldn't 
 apply ter that job. Why, Jim, I took sass from him. 
 Say, I actcherly took sass from the crittur without so 
 much as heavin' a chip at him. An' Mary she was 
 took in the same way. She turned soft, too." 
 
 "What do you say?" 
 
 " I say, soon as she looked at Daisy, she ' threw up 
 the rag,' like the wust knocked-out champeen in the 
 ring. She did so. Ma'y Sting'ree 's a woman that's 
 natterally kind o' awesome to a man leastways, her 
 
 46
 
 MARY STINGAREE 47 
 
 eyes gives me the creeps. They ain't unhullsome eyes, 
 but they're too d n big an' queer for comfort. When 
 she turns 'em full on me, by Gripes, I allus feel as ef 
 I was settin' in the choir facin' the hull congregation, 
 with, mebby, a rip showin' along the leg o' my britches. 
 I allus face her up squar', but I'm glad when I git 
 away. This is jest between you an' me, Jim. She's a 
 fine young woman." 
 
 As a matter of fact, Rob, on entering the Stingaree 
 house, made Mary a very low bow. His haggard eyes 
 were without hope, or any question of hope; but he 
 made his bow and such a bow as only a fellow with a 
 long line of ornate ancestors knows how to make. 
 
 " Yer trunks is too large ter heave thro' the door," 
 Captain Belcher bellowed at him at this juncture. " I'll 
 have ter dump 'em in the shed." 
 
 " It's too bad," Mary said, and she blushed ; that 
 was all; she made no apology. But she knew civilized 
 conditions of luxury as well as Rob. 
 
 The squawking of a hen, rudely roused from her 
 listless dreams of maternal empire by the sudden over- 
 turn of trunks in the shed, further animated the meet- 
 ing between Mary and Rob. As Mary had tried not 
 to notice Rob's appearance, so Rob assumed uncon- 
 sciousness of the wild racket in close proximity. Though 
 Captain Belcher's unlading fairly shook the house, Rob 
 spoke genteelly : 
 
 " The shed will do quite as well, Miss Stingaree. I 
 hope you won't find me troublesome." 
 
 " I find you very welcome," said Mary. " Your 
 room is upstairs to the right. The little front room 
 to the- right."
 
 48 POWER LOT 
 
 " Thank you, I know I need a tub," murmured Rob 
 as though he wanted to get clean and then die. 
 
 Now, an all-over bath at Power Lot unless, of 
 course, you dipped in the River or the Basin, or swum 
 on the Bay but an all-over bath in the house at Power 
 Lot meant a considerable stunt in the line of prepara- 
 tion. It meant fetching water by the pailful from the 
 spring and using every kettle available to heat it up 
 on the little stove in the kitchen ; then, it meant lugging 
 it upstairs with more water from the spring to make 
 enough of it. 
 
 " I heard the crittur say ' tub '," related Captain 
 Belcher afterward, " an' I knew he 'xpected, from sheer 
 force o' habit, ter go into a room full o' v'ilet-smell 
 soap an' towels, an' turn on the fasset, an' then, arter 
 he'd soaked a while, ter let the plug out an' thar' you 
 be. I'd seen them kind o' bathrooms, onct in a while, 
 in my own day, cruisin* round. 
 
 " But now," continued Captain Belcher, " when 
 Daisy Lee says ' tub,' I took a peeper at Mary's face, 
 an' she looked as though she'd run up agin' a cemetery. 
 'Wouldn't a sponge bath be wiser this evening?' 
 says she, * you are so tired.' * No,' says that slob of 
 a Daisy Lee ag'in, with his dyin' genteel voice, ' I'll 
 have a tub.' ' I'll see ter that, Miss Sting'ree,' says I, 
 comin' forwards, an' leavin' my oxen ter loll 'longside 
 the shed. I'll see ter that.' An' thinks I ter myself: 
 ' You want a tub, Mis' Daisy, an' I'll git ye a tub an' 
 be blamed to ye f'r a pcsterin' foot-loose pudd'nhead.' 
 
 " Say," went on Captain Belcher, " I went ter work. 
 I hove myself down inter the cellar an' sawed off the 
 eend of an old merlasses barrel, an' I rolled 'er upstairs
 
 MARY STINGAREE 49 
 
 to Daisy's boodwar; an' then I set to, totin' water, an' 
 bilin' of 'er on the stove. 'T made me think f 'r all the 
 world o' hog-butcherin'. Don't know why it brung 
 up that to me, 'cept 'twas natterally on account o' 
 luggin an' bilin' so much water. Wai', when that thar 
 * bath ' was all mixed, I says to Daisy, ' Yer tub 's all 
 ready,' says I very pleasant an' hopeful; an' me an' 
 the oxen lit out. 
 
 " I hope he got clean," concluded Captain Belcher 
 ruminatively. " It 'ud 'a' been a friv'lous fool- junket 
 wastin' water that way, ef it hadn't been so ridick'lous ; 
 but f'r that matter, the hull stunt o' haulin' him up 
 thar was as comical as a mess o' tame b'ars. I laffed 
 all the ways home, till these 'ere roundin' sideslats that 
 make up the mainstays o' a man's body-frame was 
 so sore they squeaked. Say, I'm givin' that to ye 
 straight they squeaked audible." 
 
 Rob, having previously carried up a portion of his 
 wardrobe from the boxes in the shed, took his bath by 
 the light of a rather ineffectual lamp, his mind dwelling 
 all the time on a foretaste of something which he had 
 brought up concealed in a mass of garments, the very 
 thought of which bloomed as a coming transport within 
 his weary breast. 
 
 It was his last, his only, bottle. If he had known the 
 exigencies of the situation he would have brought more. 
 Never mind ; he had that. It sustained him through the 
 dingy and unaccustomed trials of his bath. He dressed 
 himself scrupulously in clean linen and broadcloth, then 
 he took a beaker of his one remaining source of com- 
 fort and joy, and thus equipped he descended the 
 stairs to meet Mary Stingaree.
 
 50 POWER LOT 
 
 A short bustling woman had come over from a neigh- 
 boring house to help Mary get supper on this occasion. 
 As soon as Rob had emerged from his room this pal- 
 pably officious female began grimly to bring down, 
 pailful by pailful, the dark and forsaken waters of his 
 bath. 
 
 "That Belcher," she exclaimed with stiff scorn. 
 " By Jo, I'd like to knock 'im over with his jokes. Ain't 
 you sticky? " she inquired seriously of Rob. 
 
 Rob had suddenly become altogether smiling and 
 blissful. " Yes, madam," he agreed politely, " the 
 water was a trifle sti hie sticky, I thought, but very 
 sof, very nice sof water, madam." 
 
 Mrs. Byjo for so she was called by reason of her 
 frequent use of that pure though forceful expletive 
 Mrs. Byjo looked very hard at Rob, sniffed and sighed 
 with a mighty breath that almost alarmed him. She 
 went over and whispered to Mary. Rob did not mind ; 
 his sole aim was to be condescending and agreeable, as 
 well as he knew how under the circumstances. 
 
 " I sh'd think," he said with great delicacy and 
 friendliness, as the roar of the wind outside smote his 
 now placid ear, " I sh'd think your beautiful little 
 homesteads up here'd get blown off, sh'd think they'd 
 get going and blow right off, over on to all ' kingdom- 
 come ' off there. Don't see how you make 'em stay, 
 really. Anchored somehow, I suppose? " he concluded 
 smilingly. 
 
 " Yes, our houses are anchored all right," replied 
 Mrs. Byjo definitely, " and they're not ' beautiful 
 homesteads'; they're poor old shacks in one way and 
 another, and we know it." She shut her lips with an
 
 MARY STINGAREE 51 
 
 ominous gravity that portended sorrow; but Rob 
 went on: 
 
 " Doesn't the wind ever stop blowing 'round here ? " 
 
 " It does," answered Mrs. Byjo, " when its work is 
 done. Sometimes it has to tear 'round till it's blown a 
 little common sense into some intellecks that nothing 
 but a tornado '11 have any effect on. In them cases 
 it has to blow long and blow strong, and turn and 
 overturn." 
 
 " Gee," said Rob amiably, letting a whistling breath 
 of polite surprise through his white teeth. 
 
 " It blows," continued Mrs. Byjo, " until them that 
 has been raised soft and fearful on the milk o' one 
 cow, as the sayin' is, gets so that they can forage up 
 a living on any kind o' crusts and porridge they can 
 lay their hand to, and be glad of it ; yes, and be the bet- 
 ter for it, too." 
 
 " I sh'd think prob'ly you were the schoolteacher 
 'round here," intimated Rob ingratiatingly ; " I always 
 like the school teacher in a rural play, I do always 
 fall in love with 'em. I sh'd think" 
 
 " You set down here till you can think o' something 
 more to the purpose," said Mrs. Byjo shortly, plump- 
 ing a chair down before him. " I'm a woman over 
 forty. An you ain't you proud that you're goin' 
 on ten? But you're a thoughtful boy, that's plain to 
 see, you're always ' thinkin '. Now you set down there 
 and ' think ' what kind of a condition you're in to meet 
 ladies, whilst we go on getting supper." 
 
 What Rob thought was that he had fallen among 
 exceedingly ill-bred people in grotesquely sordid sur- 
 roundings. He had tried to mitigate their state by
 
 52 POWER LOT 
 
 overlooking their poverty and ignorance with genial 
 good-will, and instead of appreciating it they took 
 advantage of his good nature to make a butt of him. 
 Very well he mused darkly he would show his breed- 
 ing through all. A gentleman could not do otherwise. 
 But his lip curled and his beautiful eyes, hollowed by 
 fatigue and dissipation, glowed sullenly. 
 
 He watched the women get supper. Mary's face 
 was very sad. She was strikingly handsome, in a far-off 
 foreign way. But she who was, in fact, a trifle 
 younger than Rob looked very old to him. She and 
 Mrs. By jo appeared to him to be about of an age. He 
 wished heartily that there might be some young and 
 sparkling life about him at that moment, and he sighed. 
 
 Mrs. By jo cast a hopeful glance at him, but Mary 
 had had deep experience of cases of similar ailment 
 in her own household, and she knew that Rob's mind 
 was simply becoming very groggy. She made a cup 
 of strong coffee and brought it to him with her own 
 hand. 
 
 " Take this before your supper," she said ; " you must 
 be utterly fatigued." 
 
 Rob rose uncertainly, and, with one hand seeking 
 support from the back of his chair, he bowed his thanks 
 as he accepted the draught. 
 
 " Some young men who have had wealth," said 
 Mary, in her low deliberate voice that smacked so of 
 indifference it tended to rouse him, '* enjoy camping 
 out and an occasional return to primitive conditions. 
 Whether you are one of that kind or not, you will find 
 that it is practically * camping out ' here, and the 
 primitive necessity of inventing resources for existence."
 
 MARY STINGAREE 53^ 
 
 Rob gulped down the coffee gratefully, though he 
 remained courteously on his feet. 
 
 " New York City 's good 'nough for me." He then 
 smiled at her vaguely. " Tell you the truth, Miss 
 Sting'ree, when I go to th' country, I like good hotel 
 and some 'musement. You look 's though you'd 
 seen bet better days yourself," he added more boldly, 
 but his manner was, somehow, inoffensive. " Tell you 
 the truth only thing this place is fit for is grave 
 stones and I wish I had mine." 
 
 " Are you sure you're not something of a coward? " 
 There was fire, as well as kindness, in the dark eyes at 
 which he gazed for a moment steadily. He fancied 
 there was a smile in them, too ; he endeavored desper- 
 ately to ascertain that important fact through his 
 fixed stare. Then his contemplation drifted waveringly 
 to a graying lock or two that shone, so early, in the 
 black hair on her temples. 
 
 Mary blushed. She knew that her face and figure 
 were superb. That premature tint of gray was a little 
 thorn, even to her high mind. 
 
 " Robert," she said, accepting quietly the supposi- 
 tion of superior years, while a faint smile touched her 
 lips, " I shall call you * Robert ' being so much older 
 than you but I prefer that you should call me * Miss 
 Stingaree,' never forget that, my poor mother will 
 never walk again until she has reached the ' place of 
 graves.' She has been waiting to meet you: a new 
 voice and presence are so much to one afflicted as she 
 is. She cannot see you. Do you mind going in to 
 speak just a word to her? " 
 
 " Why, certainly," said Rob, absorbing the last of
 
 54 POWER LOT 
 
 the virile potation in his coffee cup. " Certainly, Mi 
 Sting'ree. D'lighted." 
 
 Mary opened the door from the kitchen which was 
 sitting-room and dining-room also into a bedroom 
 adjoining. 
 
 " Here is Robert Hilton, Mother." 
 
 " Come here, Robert Hilton, let me look at you," 
 said the sightless old woman, from where she sat 
 propped up in bed. She had an eager air of expectancy. 
 
 " Mother has been talking all day of your coming," 
 said Mary. 
 
 " Let me take a good long look at you, Robert 
 Hilton," exclaimed Mrs. Stingaree. She seemed to 
 study his face with her large unseeing eyes, brilliant in 
 their natural coloring, while the touch of her pale 
 hand reminded him disagreeably of the tingling of an 
 electric battery. Rob hung his head and cast down 
 his own eyes in extreme discomfort. 
 
 " He is noble, noble," finally declared the blind 
 woman to Mary's passive amusement, and Rob's un- 
 speakable amaze. " Have you put on Aunt Taylor 
 Fleming's teacup for him, Mary, and my Tower spoon ? 
 You haven't half set the table, I'll warrant. Bring out 
 the best things, girl. Have it fine, girl fine. Will 
 you ever come in to see me, I wonder? " she said pet- 
 tishly, turning to Rob ; " they all run away from me." 
 
 The clear annunciation of the " noble ** was still 
 ringing in Rob's befuddled ears. His physical being 
 revolted at the uncanny prospect of another entrance 
 there ; but " noble," " noble," pealed charmingly 
 through his soporific senses. 
 
 " Cert'nly, madam, I'll come in to see you with
 
 MARY STINGAREE 55 
 
 greates' pleasure, if you'll allow me. Pleasure 's all 
 on my side, madam, I 'ssure you." 
 
 " Noble," once more muttered the old woman, her 
 brief moment of energy fading into a vague relapse. 
 
 " Now, just a moment do you mind? will you 
 come and see my brother ? " said Mary. 
 
 " All these s'prises I fancy you're tryin' to get 
 me able to stan' on my feet 'fore we go to dinner," 
 murmured Rob confidingly, already childishly con- 
 vinced that deceit or any affectation of it might as 
 well be laid by, as a vain and useless garment, before 
 Mary Stingaree's all-discerning eyes. " 'S that so, 
 Miss Sting'ree? All these s'prises? " and he laughed 
 feebly and approvingly. 
 
 Mary led the way to a little alcove, which still further 
 revealed the possibilities of the " kitchen." There, on 
 a lounge half concealed behind a door, lay a form, 
 hitherto unsuspected of Rob, considering his own state 
 and the gruesomeness of these altogether novel sur- 
 roundings. 
 
 " This is my brother Bate," Mary said. " He has 
 been on a ' spree.' " She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. 
 Rob turned to her with a sharp look. Her face was 
 inscrutable. " He is only twenty-seven and a poor 
 unshaven, besotted wreck of a man, as you see, dead 
 drunk." 
 
 " Where where did he get it, do you suppose ? " 
 said Rob, with innocent cunning. 
 
 Mary smiled wanly. " I wonder," she said, " if you 
 would help me try to save Bate? " 
 
 Rob's views on this subject were altogether too hazy 
 and confused to admit of framing any intelligible reply.
 
 56 POWER LOT 
 
 He waited uneasily, his eye wandering toward that part 
 of the kitchen where Mrs. By jo was stalking about 
 forcefully among the pans and kettles. 
 
 " Yes, we will go and have some supper," said Mary ; 
 but she still stood for a moment close at her brother's 
 side. There was a singular witchery of compelling 
 power about her, not attractive to Rob, but effective, 
 nevertheless ; where she looked he felt constrained to 
 look. So he let his eye wander cursorily again over 
 the lamentable figure on the lounge. " He was such 
 a handsome lad," the sister said. Rob felt that he must 
 look at her, and following the voiceless behest, he did 
 look up and met those uncomfortably thrilling eyes 
 again. 
 
 " I expect help of you" she said quietly, " and not 
 an added care and sorrow. I have all that I can do 
 and bear. You will see that. This is all unnecessary 
 to say, however. You are a gentleman born, and a 
 gentleman does not inflict added burden and trouble 
 upon an already overburdened woman." 
 
 The concise, cool voice stung through Rob's senses. 
 It also painted a picture before him in vivid, inefface- 
 able colors. Whatever he thought, whatever he did, 
 the picture lasted. That was Mary's power. 
 
 " I am depending upon you," she added gently, mov- 
 ing away with him. 
 
 Rob wiped the sweat from his brow. 
 
 " Oh, h 1," he sighed deeply. 
 
 Mrs. By jo offered no weak solace to his straits. She 
 unrolled her sleeves and buttoned them at the wrist, 
 but her manner was rather as though she rolled them 
 up, and that to do battle.
 
 MARY STINGAREE 57 
 
 "You will stay and take tea with us, Virginia?" 
 Mary pleaded. 
 
 " No, Ma'y, I can't. My oxen ain't unyoked, and 
 my cows are bawling away, over thar', with stuck ud- 
 ders. I'll come over when I've done my chores, and 
 keep ye company if ye want me to. Don't blame ye 
 for not liking to be left alone, considerin' how ye're 
 fixed." 
 
 Her words contributed much that was frankly un- 
 flattering to Mary's newly acquired guest, but Rob 
 simply gazed at her in amaze. It appeared to him that 
 Mary Stingaree was trying to persuade her cook to sit 
 down at the table with her. 
 
 " I hoped," continued Mrs. By jo, " that Jim Tur- 
 bine would come up and look out for ye this evening, 
 but he's hawking it, off somewhere. I'll be glad to 
 come over and set with ye after I've thrashed around 
 a while at home." 
 
 Rob inferred that some frailty, or lack of cordi- 
 ality on his part, had prevented Mary having the 
 pleasure of her rude servant to dine with her. 
 
 " Take my chair, Cook," he cried elaborately yield- 
 ing his place. " I'll go get another chair. All sit 
 together. D'lighted." 
 
 Mrs. By jo wore short skirts; her hair was short; 
 her boots declaimed aloud that life was a rough and 
 toilsome journey. She took the oxwhip, which she 
 always carried about with her, from a corner of the 
 room and snapped its lash tentatively. Then she 
 turned to Rob. 
 
 " My ancestors were reigning on ducal thrones," 
 she notified him in very correct English, " when yours,
 
 58 POWER LOT 
 
 probably, were inventing some new kind of lager beer. 
 Good-night. I'll be over presently, Ma'y." 
 
 " She is not my cook," said Mary, as the door closed, 
 " she is my neighbor, who came over to help me out 
 of charity." 
 
 Rob was very red. " Excuse me, Miss Sting'ree," 
 said he, " but they're a dev'lish queer sort 'round here. 
 And they don't like me. They been antag tagonizin' 
 me from the start. I like to be frien'ly. They won't 
 be frien'ly with me." 
 
 "You just persevere," Mary encouraged him; for, 
 whatever his ancestry, there was ingrained in him at 
 least one classic tenet of good breeding, not to hurt the 
 feelings of others, and his face was suffused with 
 regret and mortification. Mary's spirits, as a practiced 
 disciplinarian, rose. There was, evidently, " something 
 to get hold of " in Rob's nature. 
 
 " There are some queer sorts that you'll find it is 
 only elevating, after all, to make friends with," she 
 went on brightly. " You won't find, the world over, 
 a heart more worthy to win than Virginia Stafford's 
 sometimes called ' Mrs. By jo.' And by the way, 
 her line is traceable from the very grandest, and here 
 she is, genuine, away off here in Power Lot with her 
 rough hands and her oxwhip. And there's James 
 Turbine " 
 
 Well, I, who write this, am picking up the glad- 
 somest things that ever befell, along with the rest ; 
 and I heard of it, what Mary said about me there 
 before Rob. I don't mind being the kind of fool that 
 I've done it up in blood-tissue, and tied it with my 
 heart-strings, and got it stowed away in the safe-de-
 
 MARY STINGAREE 59 
 
 posit vault that I shan't lay down when I shuck off 
 my old body, but take right along with me up yonder 
 
 some place they tell of where the angels sing 
 
 So much for that. 
 
 Ah, but Rob had the chance sitting there at the 
 table alone with Mary; and he so broad and tall, 
 above most men, and winsome handsome, and clad in 
 such high fashion; he had the chance to put in a 
 promising lick of courting. He could not even see 
 straight. It crossed his mind that he wished a certain 
 light-footed lady, whom he had frequently met con- 
 vivially in New York, were opposite him, in the place 
 of " the old maid," as he mentally denominated Mary 
 Stingaree. Treating him as an inferior, too, with her 
 lofty manner, he soliloquized, maudlin-childish. He 
 wished she might see the dining-room in his own house 
 at home. He tried to recover pride; then stared stu- 
 pidly at his soup. 
 
 That article of diet, always strained, and frequently 
 accentuated with the flavor of wine, amid the niceties 
 of his past existence, and served, too, only as a mere 
 preliminary to his dinner, now appeared to constitute 
 the whole repast, and reeled before him in a conflict- 
 ing strata of visible onions and carrots. Its odor 
 was wholly seductive, and Rob was greedily hungry. 
 He did not even stop to butter his bread, but drew off 
 one brown slice after another from the plate, and de- 
 voured the carroty stew with a resolute simple devotion 
 to the business in hand. 
 
 Mary, for her part, seemed contented with silence, 
 her thoughts adequate to her own entertainment. Rob 
 was grateful for her apparent absent-mindedness and
 
 60 POWER LOT 
 
 for the prolonged withdrawal of her disquieting eyes. 
 He had another re*solve; to retreat before the arrival 
 of Mrs. Byjo and, also, of that sleep which he already 
 felt creeping in upon him at every pore. 
 
 " If you'll excuse me, Miss Sting'ree," he said ris- 
 ing, plainly but fully gorged, " I'll retire, with your 
 p'mission. I'm beas beas'ly tired 'pon my word." 
 
 Mary handed him a candle. By its small glow he 
 lumbered up the little stairway and turned into his 
 room. At the door-end of his apartment he could 
 stand erect, thereafter the ceiling sloped down into 
 ultimate extinction. There was one chair, a wooden 
 washstand, a bit of a round table, topped by a Bible 
 and there was his bed. 
 
 The one window was wide open. He shivered as he 
 crept up to it. In the moonlight beyond, all the majesty 
 of earth lay stretched before him: loud ocean, priestly 
 heights, vast sleeping forests, strange, omnipotent, ap- 
 palling he shrank back with a shudder, only to face 
 again the ignominy and desolation of his room. 
 
 " Oh, my God," he almost sobbed. " Penned in this 
 shanty, at the rough end of Nothing and Nowhere. 
 I wonder if they have been fooling me : I wonder if my 
 fortune is really lost." He ground his teeth. " I wish 
 I hadn't been such a d n fool as not to keep straight 
 'nough to know what I was about an' what what 
 they was about. I'll die die, in this mis-rable place, 
 an' I know it. Well, I'll forget my sor sorrows, one 
 night, anyhow." 
 
 He drained his last bottle to the last drop and then 
 threw himself on the bed. " What kind o' mattress 
 is this, I wonder? " He fumbled with drunken curios-
 
 MARY STINGAREE 61 
 
 ity. " Straw. Plain long sticks o' straw. Hors 
 horses usu'ly lay on straw. Nev' mind." 
 
 At this point he viewed the matter in a facetious 
 light, and fell asleep with sniggers of intoxicated 
 mirth. 
 
 Mary fed her mother the last time for that night: 
 then endeavored, unsuccessfully, to rouse Bate from 
 his bibulous slumbers. The drunken snores of her 
 brother below mingled with the now entirely drunken 
 snores of Rob from above. 
 
 The beneficent Mrs. By jo appeared in due time. 
 
 " By Jo, Ma'ry," she said, harkening, " if your cup 
 ain't full. Full o' sots. Well, they're out of mischief 
 for to-night, anyhow." 
 
 Mary had finished her housework for the night. She 
 looked weary enough, and pale, but her eyes were not 
 of the sort that faded, they were extremely wide awake. 
 A purpose a hope to save burned in them, that made 
 them as if they kept company apart in some realm 
 where heroes wrestle and strive, and mind not death, 
 but only to strive well. Not death, nor even defeat, but 
 only to strive to the utmost ; that was the realm she 
 was growing to live in, though she was a proud woman 
 and had trained early for victory. We're usually 
 pretty well toward the west of our life-journey when 
 we don't mind triumph or reward so much as just only 
 to do our work well, and get so absorbed in that busi- 
 ness that hopeless tasks, even, take on the garb of cer- 
 tain execution sometime. 
 
 Mary she'd lived a long time in few years, or else 
 the biggest empire of all was born in her to run the 
 race, to fight the battle without flinching, and then to
 
 62 POWER LOT 
 
 " call it a day," and a glad day, and a good one, though 
 it rained from dawn to sunset, with black thunderbolts 
 thrown in. She looked out from her window, too, and 
 drank in the scene, familiar as it was, with an esctasy 
 of awe; and lingered, as if some Great Soul, out there 
 in the wastes, were offering her unspeakable bread 
 and wine.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE TIDE MAKES IN 
 
 A BLEAK misery benumbed Rob, when he awoke next 
 morning. The little old house and its vicinity rattled 
 with all the noises of stirring morning-life on a farm 
 and the sort of farm, too, where, with all hands from 
 bleating calf to quacking duck, food and joy were 
 sometimes largely a matter of speculation. 
 
 Cowbells and dishes, pigs and hens sang together in 
 untrained symphony; and, in visible smoke-wraiths, 
 through the cracks of the door, crept the sturdy at- 
 mosphere of frying home-cured ham. 
 
 Rob threw off his many-hued bedquilts with disgust, 
 and, as a morning orison, sadly, and with a cunning air 
 of discretion, locked away his empty bottle. 
 
 " Mustn't let the dark-eyed preacher-lady find that," 
 he said; for he had in general a great notion of mak- 
 ing even his speech jolly. " Not till I get away. Go- 
 ing to get away from here to-day somehow; going to 
 start back to New York." 
 
 At the thought his motions took on a more sprightly 
 manner, and he greeted the " dark-eyed preacher-lady " 
 quite cheerfully at breakfast. Her face wore a con- 
 tented expression, as much as to say : " I believed the 
 gentleman in you would conquer." So Rob interpreted 
 it, and he rose to the occasion. 
 
 Bate, resuscitated, came in from milking and sat
 
 64 POWER LOT 
 
 at the table speechlessly. He wore a clean collar, which 
 apology had to condone the rest of his appearance: he 
 seemed entirely satisfied that it did so, troubling him- 
 self with nothing save a rapid sour-faced consumption 
 of food. Once only he spoke, and that without looking 
 up, without even the lifting of an eyelash; it was a 
 loud and harsh mandate of reproach to the world at 
 large : 
 
 " Pass the butter." 
 
 After breakfast Mary took Rob out to show him 
 his portion of land. 
 
 " Of course, as you know, you must plow this," 
 she said. " The season is early, for this climate. 
 What a glorious day it is ! You may have the oxen 
 to use for your plowing this morning." 
 
 Rob made one of his courtliest bows, entirely dis- 
 posed to put Mary off her guard: 
 
 " You are most kind, Miss Stingaree." 
 
 " Do you know how to yoke the oxen to the plow ? " 
 
 " Oh, certainly, I shall manage with ease. Thanks. 
 Thanks, very much, Miss Stingaree." 
 
 Mary, who was, if the truth must be known, about 
 as pliant and romantic a farmer as Rob himself, went 
 into the house. Rob made a virtuous show of walking 
 toward the barnyard where the oxen stood. He saw 
 Bate, tinkering with real skill and ingenuity, over a 
 gate which the wind had dislodged and broken. Bate 
 did not look up, and Rob marched deliberately out of 
 sight, with the absorbing purpose of counting his 
 money in solitude. He searched his pockets and the 
 contents of his purse with feverish anxiety, for he 
 had an impression nay, he recalled clearly now the
 
 THE TIDE MAKES IN 65 
 
 reckless dissipation which had marked the progress 
 of his overland journey to Waldeck; the night at St. 
 Frederick's especially, where he had stopped to enjoy 
 the jovial companionship of some chance acquaintances, 
 and had spent the night in uproarious drinking and 
 gambling. 
 
 He searched himself, therefore, with feverish haste, 
 and stood appalled, open-mouthed, at the result: Two 
 dollars and sixteen cents. The fare alone to New 
 York, without the usual extravagant and luxurious 
 accessories which he employed in traveling, was fifty- 
 five dollars. 
 
 Rob researched his pockets, the deep crannies of 
 his folding billhook, the lining of his purse, his huge 
 overcoat pockets, his inner vest pockets : three ciga- 
 rettes, one match, his handkerchief, his cardcase, and 
 two dollars and sixteen cents; and searching till 
 doomsday could produce no more. 
 
 " Lord, what a fool I was." Rob gritted his teeth, 
 struck the match, and almost swallowed the smoke from 
 his cigarette, as a man snatching wildly at his last 
 gasp of elysium. 
 
 " Oh, Lord, what a dense fool, fool, fool, I've been. 
 Didn't even put in a supply of cigarettes. Nothing 
 to drink, no cigars, no money to light out with what 
 an ass I must 'a' made o' myself on the way. What an 
 idiotic fool ass? What in h 1 '11 I do? What '11 I 
 do? What '11 I do?" 
 
 What he did was to make his way desperately down 
 through the woods to the shore, straight for a vessel 
 which some men were loading with wood. 
 
 " Fine boat," said Rob critically and ingratiatingly,
 
 66 POWER LOT 
 
 putting his hands in his pockets with a nonchalant air, 
 though he was suspiciously out of breath. 
 
 " Fine nawthin'," bellowed the familiar voice of Cap- 
 tain Belcher. " She's the contrariest old sucker 't 
 ever run her nozzle through salt water. Durn old suer- 
 cide. I've a good mind ter let 'er rip next time she 
 goes smellin' 'round for a ledge ter stave 'er ribs into." 
 
 " Pshaw, I wish I owned her. She looks very fine 
 to me," said Rob, with truth and diplomacy combined. 
 " I see that her name is ' Leevya Potter.' It's a pretty 
 name. Very." 
 
 " She'll leave ye, all right," responded Captain 
 Belcher, " she'll leave ye go to pot ; oh, she's the 
 * Leevya Potter,' all right." 
 
 The men guffawed in appreciation. 
 
 " I think it's too bad to talk that way about a nice 
 boat like that," Rob pursued his devoted way. " Looks 
 to me like first-class wood you're loading there. Going 
 to the States, of course? Looks as though you'd be 
 all ready to sail in an hour or so now? " 
 
 The men looked with simple curiosity at this anomaly 
 of an astute New Yorker. 
 
 " By Tar an' Bloaters, Daisy Lee," roared Captain 
 Belcher ; " why, you're goin' to have the Leevya Pot- 
 ter for a pleasin' dot on the lan'scape fer a long whiles 
 to come. Great Tamarack ! she ain't half loaded. We 
 got ter finish our plowin' an' haul thirty cord more 
 o' birch over from Owl's Head, an' make a new main 
 boom an' rudder for 'er afore she's ready. Don't you 
 werry about the Leevya Potter, Daisy. She's goin' to 
 look * purty ' to ye an' she's goin' to look * nice ' to 
 ye layin' here on her old eel-trap o' a bottom fer a
 
 THE TIDE MAKES IN 67 
 
 long whiles to come. * Hour or so ' ! the Leevja 
 
 Potter! Don't say a word I got wore out with 
 
 one circus yisterday, an' I'm tendin' to business to-day 
 strictly." 
 
 He directed some wood toward the hold of the Leevya 
 with the energy of a giant and shouted his orders to 
 his men. 
 
 Rob longed for the retinue which but a few short 
 days before it had been in his power to call together, 
 to punish and humiliate this coarse offender. The 
 main thing in his consciousness, however, was to get 
 a passage, somehow, back to Waldeck, as his starting 
 place for the journey home. He swallowed his pride, 
 he buried his resentment. It was on his tongue to 
 say : " I will give you the worth of the whole cargo 
 if you'll sail me over to Waldeck station " ; but his 
 fingers felt despairingly only the two dollars and six- 
 teen cents in his pocket. 
 
 " Wonder," said Rob, in his lion-like pursuance of 
 affability, amid the crash of lading wood, " wonder if 
 there are any smaller boats 'long shore here, as as 
 seaworthy as this one? " 
 
 " Jim's got a top-notcher," observed one who spoke, 
 but did not consider the question of consequence enough 
 to turn his head. 
 
 " Where is Jim? " Rob called cheerfully amid the din. 
 
 " Gone 'round the Gut fishin'." 
 
 "Where is the 'Gut'?" 
 
 " 'Way off yander whar' ye kin jist see the big ledges 
 buttin' out." 
 
 " Looks a mile or so away," Rob suggested hopefully. 
 
 " The Gut's six mild away."
 
 68 POWER LOT 
 
 Rob strolled on. Out of sight of the men, around 
 a bend of the shore, his head drooped. 
 
 " Better place to die down here by the water, any- 
 way," he muttered ; " not so dizzy." 
 
 He sat down on a crystallized spar, leaning over, his 
 head in his hands, watching the incoming tide. After 
 a while he was conscious that two boys had seated them- 
 selves silently on two bowlders, one on either side of him, 
 intimately close. They were both whittling absorbedly. 
 
 The younger one, conscious that Rob was astir, said 
 monotonously, without lifting his eyes from the ar- 
 tistry of his jackknife: 
 
 " Kind o' funny, too, the way the tide makes in here, 
 ain't it? " 
 
 Rob made no reply. The older boy offered no sug- 
 gestions. The speaker had not expected a reply; 
 apparently, he was entirely without grudge or dis- 
 appoinment at this lack of recognition of his subject. 
 He whittled on. 
 
 After a while the younger boy spake again in the 
 same dispassionate tone: 
 
 " Lon Garby trapped a b'ar up back thar* a mild 
 in the woods last night." 
 
 He whittled on. 
 
 After a long interval, the peace of which was made 
 more profound by the monody of the waves, he said 
 once more: 
 
 " Kind o* funny, too, the way the tide makes in here, 
 ain't it?" 
 
 Rob spoke, the seething of the brine answering the, 
 bitterness of despair in his own soul: 
 
 " It is indeed excruciatingly ludicrous."
 
 THE TIDE MAKES IN 69 
 
 Both boys whittled on in the same unperturbed, 
 stolid content. In due time the younger spake again: 
 
 "Old man Trawles is courtin' Widder Treet up 
 to Power Lot, God Help Us. Nell an' Gid runs arfter 
 him ter git him home, but he slopes 'round the lots 
 like a fox chasin' arfter a woodchuck so my folks 
 was tellin'. Mis' Trawles ain't two months in her 
 coffing so my folks was tellin'." 
 
 He whittled on. 
 
 " Do you boys know of any way to get over to 
 Waldeck station?" said Rob. 
 
 " In all my lifetime," said the younger boy (he was 
 twelve), " in all my lifetime I never yit cruised over t' 
 Waldeck." 
 
 He whittled on. 
 
 " Once," spake the elder boy, laying aside one fin- 
 ished piece of carving and reaching among a pile of 
 driftwood for further crude material, " once, I went 
 with father to Waldeck. Father hugged shore too 
 clost comin' home, an' we run aground off thar' by 
 Pin'cle Ledge, an' I walked seven mild around the 
 shore home. Father he waited f'r the tide." 
 
 They both whittled. 
 
 " Kind o' funny, too," the younger boy mused aloud, 
 and interrogatively, " the way the tide makes in here, 
 ain't it?" 
 
 " It surely is jocular to an unprecedented degree," 
 said Rob. 
 
 " Twelve hours, makin' and goin'," continued the 
 younger, conscientiously completing his sentimental 
 theme. " Six hours she takes ter ebb out, an' six hours 
 she takes ter make in. Kind o' funny, too "
 
 70 POWER LOT 
 
 " I've already expressed, as well as I know how, my 
 sense of the extreme gleefulness of the business," Rob 
 interrupted, his eyes black and savage with misery. 
 
 The boys whittled on, undisturbed and unembittered. 
 The younger spake: 
 
 " Got an order f'r a mess o' clams off Ma'y Sting'ree. 
 Guess I'll hike off an' rake 'em up 'fore the tide makes 
 in too fur." 
 
 He folded up his knife ; laid, un regretfully, the treas- 
 ures of his patient toil to be swallowed up of the next 
 seamaw on the beach and rose; the older boy followed 
 his example. As informally as they had come they 
 trudged away, around a bend to the flats. Rob was 
 alone again, but not for long. 
 
 With a hoe over one shoulder and a bucket of clams 
 weighing down the other slender arm, came Cleota 
 Thibault homeward, singing, along the beach. She 
 had on a blue skirt, a pink waist, a green apron, and a 
 boy's brown soft felt hat ; that last was the sorrow of 
 this occasion to the girl, for Cleota had a new Sunday 
 hat, and she loved it with a sort of tender human love ; 
 she had stood dandling it that very morning, riven of 
 heart desiring to wear it, even clamming; but pru- 
 dence had finally conquered, and that of Clcota's own 
 volition, for she had neither mother nor any other 
 female relative to act as guardian over her, poor lass. 
 And now here she was in the old brown felt, and there 
 was the beautiful aristocratic new young man who 
 had come to Power Lot, God Help Us disclosed before 
 her on the beach. She ceased her song and made haste 
 to get past unobserved. 
 
 Now what Rob noted first in the luminous picture
 
 THE TIDE MAKES IN 71 
 
 of health and color which she made against the cold 
 gray of the ocean was the admirable setting afforded by 
 the dull old hat for her bright brown curls, her bright 
 brown eyes, and the glow of her countenance a living 
 bloom which made the blue skirt, the pink waist, and 
 all the other colors tame in comparison. The young 
 man cleared his sorrowful throat, sighed deeply, and 
 
 Cleota heard the sigh, stole a sidelong glance, and 
 beheld the dreary despair of his attitude. Humanity 
 conquered vanity. 
 
 " Don't you think you're goin' to like it over to 
 Power Lot, God Help Us, Mr. Lee? May be you like 
 it better down to Bear River where me I live? " she 
 added innocently. It was evident that Captain Belch- 
 er's invention of " Daisy Lee " had spread trustfully 
 abroad in Bear River. 
 
 " My name is Robert Hilton," Rob answered drear- 
 ily, almost with tears in his eyes, while his lip curled 
 with mortification and anger. 
 
 Cleota put down her hoe and her bucket of clams. 
 
 " You mus' not mind, Mr. Hilton," said she, ap- 
 proaching a step or two. " All the folks 'roun' here 
 they call other folks them comical names. They call 
 me ' Cuby'." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Wa-a-al," said she, drawling a serious though de- 
 licious adaptation of the common idiom ; " wa-a-al, 
 firs' they did call me ' Cloves ' for Cleota, then ' Cinna- 
 mon,' then ' Allspice,' an' sometimes ' Pepper,' an' now 
 they call me ' Cuby ' for good an' all, because all them 
 things grows in Cuby, don't you think? "
 
 72 POWER LOT 
 
 " You are tropical in beauty, that is sure. You 
 have so much of it, I mean," said Rob. " What may / 
 call you?" 
 
 " Why, of course, I shall call you Mister Hilton, and 
 you call me Miss Thibault. It is pronounce' Tee-bo. 
 It is French. My father is French, but me I am 
 American. I was born to Bear River." 
 
 " Bear River was very lucky to have you born to it," 
 asserted Rob, now with genuine warmth. Then the 
 monologue of his thoughts reasserted itself : 
 
 " Do you know of any way I could get over to Wai- 
 deck, Miss Tee-bo?" 
 
 Cuby shook her head. In the first place she did not 
 want him to go; in the second place she was fully de- 
 termined he never should go until he had seen that 
 Sunday hat. 
 
 " My father is not a fisherman," she said, tossing her 
 head. " He have no boat. My father has a team of 
 two horses an' a very strong harness, cost him feefty 
 dollar. My father's business is a haulin' wood. Cap'n 
 Jim Turbine he came to my father to hire him to meet 
 the vessel when she come in, an' haul up you an' them 
 trunks. My father, he would not do so he like so 
 much better, you see," said Cuby, with blushing apol- 
 ogy, " to haul the wood." 
 
 She had been constantly drawing nearer to him, with 
 the feminine compassion for, and authority over, a 
 handsome young man in affliction. Now, she sat down 
 on the bowlder where the younger boy had been. 
 
 "There is no way?" said Rob slowly, his 
 strained blue eyes looking out to sea. 
 
 "You look a' me, Mister Hilton," said Cuby, the
 
 THE TIDE MAKES IN 73 
 
 bashful maiden no longer, but suddenly become a guide 
 and monitress under the drift and leveling of circum- 
 stance. She shook a small brown finger at him. " You 
 look a' me, an' mind what I say, everything." 
 
 Rob turned his wistful eyes to her appealingly. 
 
 "You don't like it very well there where you come 
 to live. I do'n' blame you. Ma'y Sting'ree, she's 
 a proud, stuck-up, hotty ol' Baptis', that's what 
 she is." 
 
 " I guess you're right," said Rob wonderingly ; 
 " what makes her a Baptis' ? " 
 
 " 'Cause she sings so loud in the meet'n. Me I go 
 to meet'n', but I make myself very still an' very far 
 back in the meet'n'house. The meet'n'house is a hoty 
 place," said Cuby, as if speaking by rote, her eyes 
 downcast, her little hand stroking the blue skirt softly. 
 
 Rob was entranced. 
 
 " You could sing as loud as she if you tried, I bet," 
 he said gracefully ; " couldn't you ? " 
 
 "Wa-a-al, by tarn, I ain't sayin' nothin'," replied 
 Cuby, with that utter colloquialism into which she 
 sometimes sweetly and unconsciously relapsed. But her 
 manner left the fact of her musical ability to remain 
 undisputed. 
 
 Like a fretful child, Rob's mind again reverted to 
 his woes : 
 
 " You don't know of any way, Cuby dear for me 
 to get over to Waldeck? " 
 
 " Rober', no, I do'n' know any way, an' I think you 
 make yourself a fool to not think o' nothin' but jus' 
 tryin' to get back where you come from. Why don't 
 you be sma-art smarrt, Rober' ? "
 
 74 POWER LOT 
 
 Robert gazed at her animated face in dismay, and 
 made no reply. 
 
 " If I was you I would make the bluff I would. I 
 would show them how I was smarrt smarrt! " 
 
 '* You wouldn't have to make any bluff to show that," 
 said Robert, at attention, for her radiant face was 
 very bewitching. 
 
 " Me I would show them. Now, lis'n they all 
 lookin' to see you run away or make yourself a fool. 
 I hear them talk, so I know what it is they think. And 
 you, Rober', you are big an' strong an' more good- 
 lookin' as any of them. You jus' make the bluff, go 
 do the farming an' get the money, so then you can 
 go away if you wish. Make the big bluff, an' be like 
 you was smarrt." 
 
 " I can't get any money farming, Cuby," said Rob 
 altogether despondent. " I don't know how. I, driv- 
 ing those horned beasts up and down that infernal 
 precipice ! It makes me sick, even just crawling up an' 
 down there on foot. It's awful, and the house is 
 awful. I wish I wish I was dead ! " 
 
 A cold little wind-reddened hand crept over and laid 
 itself for the brief space of an instant on Rob's hand. 
 
 " Rober', it's hard for you losin' your fine 'ome what 
 you had, an' all your big pile o' money. But now you 
 min' me, an' all shall be well, I tell you; jus' you make 
 the big bluff." 
 
 " Cuby," said Robert, detaining the small hand, and. 
 to make sure of detaining it, he groaned again aloud, 
 " I wish I was dead." 
 
 " There's a road not so steep," said Cuby. " You 
 seen where they loadin' the 'Leevya'? wa-a-al, over
 
 THE TIDE MAKES IN 75 
 
 the other side the River there's another road begins 
 there, an' it goes up to Power Lot, God Help Us, jus' 
 the same, but it winds aroun' and' aroun', a way not 
 near so steep. Now, it is too late to-day, but to- 
 morrow you put on the big bluff an' make mad at 
 everybody, an' go yoke Ma'y Sting'ree's oxen, an' drive 
 them yourself with the big talk what they always talks 
 at oxen; an' you come down here with them an' get 
 some rock-weed for to dress your land. That is the 
 first thing to begin to farm." 
 
 " Rock-weed to dress the land. See here, Cuby, I'm 
 having enough to try me without you putting me up 
 to any funny business. The blame' old land is too 
 much dressed with * rocks ' and * weeds ' already." 
 
 Cuby laughed with merry indulgence. " Me an' my 
 father, we don't know nothin' 'bout f armin', neither ; 
 but I see them what they do. They haul up the rock- 
 weed for to spread over the land, and, also, they haul 
 up of the fish-gurry." 
 
 " Let them," said Rob ; " it makes me sick to think 
 of it. You don't suppose I'm going around accumu- 
 lating that sort of fragrance on my person, do you? 
 Why, my very boots would smell." 
 
 " Aha ! " cried Cuby through her laughter, shaking 
 at him a finger sapient with agricultural lore, however 
 accidentally acquired ; " but you mus'. If you make 
 not the ground to smell, then you shall have no pota- 
 toes. Sure. 'Tis so. My father, he hauls wood an' 
 burns the charcoal he is no farmer, but I have seen 
 them, what they do. They haul all that makes a rot," 
 admitted Cuby confidentially, and lifting her dainty 
 nose in execration, " an' with it they make the stinkin'
 
 76 POWER LOT 
 
 ground. Also, you mus' do so, an' you mus' not mind, 
 for if you have not the stinkin' ground then you shall 
 have no potatoes." 
 
 Rob listened in astound and admiration. Her face 
 was as fair as a flower, her teeth were as white as pure 
 linen seven times washed. 
 
 " I think I shall take your advice," he considered 
 aloud, " provided you will keep on advising me." 
 
 " Sure," said Cuby competently, " I shall always tell 
 you what to do next and may be you will have good 
 potatoes, an' then they shall not make fun at you." 
 
 " Will you show me how to get rock-weed and fish- 
 gurry?" Rob soliloquized audibly, inclining ever to 
 Cuby as the sole point of effulgence left in a cold and 
 dreary world. 
 
 " Didn't I tell you, I shall tell you everything you 
 shall do, so they shall not make a laugh at you? But 
 you you mus' make the big bluff at them or it shall 
 all be no good." She sighed. 
 
 " It won't make people talk unkindly about you? " 
 said Rob. 
 
 " No, for I am good. Some is bad : about them is 
 talk. But me no. I am good. My father an' Cap'n 
 Jim Turbine, they tarn to hell anybody w'at talk about 
 me," concluded Cuby with placid satisfaction. 
 
 "Good," said Rob, "you're all right. I wonder 
 if I could find somebody to take charge of my charac- 
 ter. Well, never mind. I think you are saving my 
 life and reason. At what time will you be here to- 
 morrow morning to meet me? " 
 
 " Nine o'clock. You got to 'ump yourself an' git 
 a move on to make a farm."
 
 THE TIDE MAKES IN 77 
 
 " I'm used to sleeping late, but I don't care how soon 
 I get out of that old Samanthy-Tildy-Ann bedquilt of 
 a room of mine." 
 
 " Ma'y Sting'ree is a nice housekeeper," declared 
 Cuby virtuously. 
 
 " She's an old hen of a schoolteacher, that's what 
 she is," replied Rob. 
 
 Cuby's heart leaped and she adjudged it safe to ex- 
 periment still further with the function of justice: 
 
 " Ma'y Sting'ree is only twenty-five." 
 
 " She has lied about her age, then. She is forty, if 
 she's a day." 
 
 Cuby ceased temporizing further in Mary's behalf, 
 and laughed with a joyful sympathy she could not 
 conceal. Rob seemed to her a beautiful young man. 
 There was a cut to his clothes and a general air about 
 him that was foreign and adorable. He had the blue 
 eyes and the fair mustache of that hero in her fa- 
 vorite novel the one who leaped to the ninth floor of 
 the burning tenement and rescued " Alva," the factory 
 girl, to whom he was secretly betrothed. This ro- 
 mance, Cuby adjudged by all means to be a work of 
 art. Its precepts and its tragedies, of which there was 
 no stint, abided with her. As for Mary Stingaree, 
 Cuby admitted to herself she was a clever woman, 
 learned and superior, and, to the keen instinct of one 
 of her own sex, a dangerously alluring and fascinating 
 woman. 
 
 So, when Cuby heard Rob's words, coupled with the 
 frank distaste gleaming in his eyes and curling his 
 lip, she laughed deliciously: 
 
 " Rober', you mus' not make the fun at her."
 
 78 POWER LOT 
 
 " I wish you lived up at Power Lot, Cuby." 
 
 " Oh, there is only a short road and the hill." 
 
 " It's the deuce of a hill, though." 
 
 " You forget me what I tell you. There is a road 
 not so steep. Now I mus' go 'ome. I should ask you 
 to dinner, but I get no dinner until night. Then my 
 father comes 'ome from a-choppin an' haulin' the 
 wood, an' I get then the dinner. I shall go," said she, 
 rising promptly. " You also mus' go." 
 
 " Yes," Rob deplored, " I'll go. You are sure that 
 you will be here when I come to-morrow? " 
 
 " May be so an' may be not," flaunted Cuby, pursu- 
 ing the tantalizing methods of proud Alva of the tene- 
 ments. " But, anyway, you shall come." 
 
 Rob gallantly took up the bucket of clams and the 
 hoe. Cuby blushed with satisfaction at this approved 
 and elegant consummation of the opening chapter of her 
 romance, and walked unburdened at his side, her head 
 held very erect, health palpably radiating from her as 
 a perfect creation of nature. 
 
 " Is there anything like a shop anywhere around 
 here," questioned Rob ; " where a fellow could purchase 
 a few cigarettes, I mean? " 
 
 " Sure. What for do you take us? There is a store 
 to Bear River." And to Cuby's mind it comprehended 
 all the variant wants of mankind. " There it is, off 
 there where you see the team of oxen standin'. Now 
 give to me the clams an' my hoe. I wish you not to 
 go to my 'ouse with me. No give them to me. You 
 shall be late 'ome ; an' Ma'y Sting'ree, she will take her 
 gad-stick from behin' the door " laughter interrupted 
 Cuby's derision" an' lick you. What, Rober'? "
 
 THE TIDE MAKES IN 79 
 
 " You are cruel, like the rest," said Robert, boyish 
 disappointment and desperation showing on his clear- 
 cut features. 
 
 " Not," intimated Cuby, with patronizing tender- 
 ness, " not if you make the big bluff." 
 
 " Well, give me a kiss to start me bold on that way, 
 Cuby Cuby, darling." 
 
 A la Alva of the tenement-fire, Rob felt a smart slap 
 in his face and awakened to see Cuby disappearing with 
 the hoe and clam bucket, which she had snatched ruth- 
 lessly from his now bereft and aching hands. He gazed 
 after her, f orsakenly. 
 
 " Don' forget to bring rek' an* pitch-a-fork when 
 you come down to-morrow," she called back to him, 
 brightly affectionate, from a distance. 
 
 " All right," he responded, with a rebound of hope 
 in his shout. He watched her retreating form a step 
 elastic, tireless, and graceful. 
 
 Rob went in search of the store; entered it with a 
 sense of curiosity and dismay which struck even the 
 hardened case of the proprietor as unflattering. 
 
 " I'll take some ' Maud Dancer ' cigarettes," said he, 
 jingling the coin in his pocket. 
 
 " I ain't got none," replied that authority, without 
 the least accent of regret therefor. 
 
 "What kind have you?" 
 
 " No kind, an' no segars. No call for 'em. Old X 
 plug's the favorite with my custom. Good for smokin', 
 good for chewin'. Want some? " 
 
 " Is there any other store about here? " 
 
 " I ain't got time to go out and look," was the en- 
 tirely sarcastic answer.
 
 80 POWER LOT 
 
 " You would know, probably," retorted Rob sternly, 
 straightening himself. 
 
 " Sure. I reckon somebody 'd 'a* dropped in an* told 
 me. I'm apt ter git the news in here 's soon 's it drops 
 off the wire." 
 
 " Give me some of your ' Old X* then," demanded 
 Rob, throwing a dollar on the counter. The store- 
 keeper counted out the change. Rob drew on a glove 
 before he consigned the greasy silver and pennies to 
 his pocket. 
 
 Presently he reappeared. 
 
 "Got anything air-tight to put this stuff in?" he 
 inquired, with some sarcasm on his own part. 
 
 The storekeeper grinned, and laid a common clay 
 pipe on the counter. 
 
 " Have you no other kind? " Rob asked, still severely. 
 
 " Nope." 
 
 "How much?" 
 
 " Cent." 
 
 Rob threw the coin down from his gloved hand with 
 disgust and took up the pipe. Presently he again re- 
 appeared. 
 
 " Give me some matches," he said, crossly tossing 
 some small change on the counter. 
 
 " Now you're all right for a smoke, Mr. Lee," said 
 the storekeeper good-naturedly. 
 
 Rob drew near the man with a genuine glitter of steel 
 in his eyes. " My name is Hilton," he said, through set 
 teeth. 
 
 " Somebody's got ye twisted then ; I heern yer name 
 was Lee. Wai', ef ye're like me ye're ready to say 
 'Call me anythin' but Late to Dinner.' Ho, ho!
 
 THE TIDE MAKES IN 81 
 
 Ha, ha! Wai', come in ag'in, Mister Hilton, come in 
 ag'in." 
 
 Rob labored up the hill homeward, perspiring and 
 panting. 
 
 " This is infernal," he gasped, his overcoat on his 
 arm, the sweat streaming from every pore of his body. 
 " When I get up to the top I'll probably strike a wind 
 as cold and stiff as Labrador. There isn't a level foot 
 along here for a fellow to stop and get his wind. I'll 
 get over there into the ditch and brace myself against 
 a bowlder a minute, and see if I can start a fire on this 
 nasty apology for a smoke." 
 
 Rob filled the clay pipe and, with considerable diffi- 
 culty, lighted it. The taste seemed to give him an 
 extensive field for nauseous speculation. 
 
 " It's molasses and ginger," he said. " No, it's 
 molasses and onions. The only thing there ain't in it is 
 tobacco. Phew," he complained, " and I have to draw 
 on it like a suction pump, at that. Well, such as it is, 
 I'm glad it don't come any easier. Molasses and call 
 it molasses and Cuby. It's got all kinds of flavor-in' 
 exceptin' tobacco." 
 
 But at the name of " Cuby," a more hopeful expres- 
 sion flitted over the young man's face. He continued 
 the ascent of the hill, appearing at the summit with 
 the hopeful sign, at least, of a discarded overcoat, and 
 a wise clay pipe that gave back but little molasses and 
 ginger for much strenuous pulling.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 TWENTY CENTS AN HOUR 
 
 MARY STINGAREE had been reinforced beforehand as to 
 the methods it would be necessary to pursue with that 
 spoiled son of fortune, Robert Hilton. Mary had not 
 sought, nor craved, the disagreeable task ; it having 
 been imposed upon her, she stood up to it bravely, and, 
 as was her nature, unfalteringly. 
 
 " Of course, you wish to work to pay your board, 
 until you can earn some money of your own for that 
 purpose," she said to Rob. " We will be business-like 
 about it. Your board will be three dollars a week. 
 Your labor, though you are inexperienced, we will call 
 worth twenty cents an hour. That is the lowest price 
 for board and the highest rate for labor ever paid 
 about here. I wish that you could get in a couple of 
 hours' work on the woodpile this very afternoon. Bate 
 was away so long, the woodpile, as you can see, is get- 
 ting very low." 
 
 Rob's astonishment gave place on the instant to burn- 
 ing inward wrath. The earth had been his, and the 
 fullness thereof. People were fed, and extravagantly 
 fed and wined too as a matter-of-course. The idea 
 that he must pay for a paftry dinner of beans and 
 coarse bread by actual manual labor was so startling 
 as to plunge him, in his own estimation, to a fatal fall 
 among the scum and outcast of creation. It gave a 
 
 89
 
 TWENTY CENTS AN HOUR 83 
 
 rigid and exacting tone to existence which his very soul 
 abhorred. 
 
 He hated Mary Stingaree as the means used to com- 
 pel him to this ignominy. For it flashed over him 
 he could not, of course, let a woman who was of no kin 
 to him, at that confessedly put the bread of charity 
 into his mouth. 
 
 Moreover, Rob was growing irritable from the un- 
 usual deprivation he was suffering from having no 
 strong drink at his command. It was a fierce dilemma 
 for him a craving that began to possess him, blindly, 
 madly. And unreasoningly now, one thought made a 
 glowing focus for his distemper he hated Mary 
 Stingaree. 
 
 Mary, apparently, was too much preoccupied to per- 
 ceive either his dislike or his displeasure. 
 
 " The ax and saw are out there by the woodpile," 
 she said brightly and encouragingly, and turned to 
 continue her own work in the house. 
 
 Rob, pulling away at his unsatisfactory pipe, saun- 
 tered malignantly to the woodpile and stood with his 
 hands in his pockets, like a child making a flamingo- 
 show of independence. 
 
 Then, from a wild desire to forget his misery and 
 his thirst, he began to saw. The saw went flat, side- 
 wise, reeled like a drunken man. Fear of ridicule added 
 to Rob's wrath, for he was in full view of the house 
 windows and the whole surrounding hamlet. He laid 
 down his pipe, put off his overcoat, put off, presently, 
 his very coat, and clenched his teeth in a desperate 
 struggle with this unwieldy subject. He smothered his 
 gasps, he ignored his aching back ; the sweat ran from
 
 84 POWER LOT 
 
 his wet hair down his face; he even felt a drop full 
 now and then on his blistering, swollen hands. When 
 he did lift his head occasionally, willfully unconscious 
 that his mortal frame was really a pathetic spectacle of 
 red and wilted exhaustion, he whistled. 
 
 In spite of all and it was, indeed, his utmost tho 
 pile of sawn wood seemed to increase but exceeding 
 slowly. And he had meant to dawdle down to the shore 
 again that afternoon, not to hide himself in melancholy 
 contemplation on a spar, but to stand out conspicuously 
 against the bluffs as a possible target for the approach 
 of beautiful, gay-colored Cuby Tee-bo. 
 
 "Old Fly-by-Night," said Rob, many times, under 
 his breath, not of sweet Cuby, but of that other woman, 
 who, with her bright regal eyes pondering many things, 
 was singing unconsciously as she washed the dishes, 
 " tidied up," tended her poor mother, and set about 
 preparing the chowder for supper. 
 
 Bate left his plow in the adjoining field to come over 
 to the spring for a drink of water. He paused a mo- 
 ment at Rob's shoulder, even his morose nature affected 
 by the moving spectacle of that young man's perspiring 
 pains. 
 
 " Say, you look beat out," he volunteered in growling 
 sympathy. 
 
 " Nonsense," panted Rob ; " the wind has changed, 
 that's all. It's turned as hot as Tophet." 
 
 " No, the wind ain't shifted neither," replied Bate, 
 very literally ; " it's you." 
 
 Rob had seen him drink at the spring and he could 
 bear it no longer. He marched over and fed at that 
 pellucid fountain, deep and long. When he returned
 
 TWENTY CENTS AN HOUR 85 
 
 Bate was still standing by the little pile of sawn wood 
 contemplating it with judicial pity and wonder. 
 
 " Say, ye done a smart little job considering" said 
 he. " I never seen a man work so mad an' peggy." 
 The main thing now, however, with Rob was that his 
 thirst instantly returned. It seemed utter, insatiable. 
 
 " Look here, Bate," said he in a low tone, doggedly 
 picking up his saw, " do you know of any place 'round 
 here where a fellow could get a little nip o' something 
 besides air to drink? " 
 
 Bate turned his back completely to the house, looked 
 straight toward the horizon, and grumbled uneasily, 
 " How do I know but what you'd go an' give us away ? " 
 his own thirst was keen, though, and he was penniless 
 " sometimes 7 don' know when some stranger- 
 body comes in shore, they mo'nt have a little somethin' 
 an' they mo'nt not. I mo'nt wander over somewhar's 
 to-night an' see." 
 
 " I'll share it even with you if you will," said Rob. 
 
 "Got any money?" muttered Bate. 
 
 Rob thrust his hand rapidly in his pocket. 
 
 " 'S sh," Bate breathed warningly " go easy. 
 Don't let Ma'y see ye fishin' for money whilst we're 
 standin' talkin' together." 
 
 But the warning was too late. Before Rob could 
 withdraw his hand from his pocket he realized that his 
 hat had been knocked from his head by some individual 
 in the rear and a stinging blow administered to one 
 cheek. Bate's hat flew off, too, and a whack even lustier 
 smote him. 
 
 " Take that, by Jo ! you cheese-heads," cried a con- 
 fident voice.
 
 86 POWER LOT 
 
 Up to this time Rob, dazed and marveling, had 
 fancied the aggressor to be Mary Stingaree, but he 
 turned to confront a short, stout woman, wearing a 
 man's hat, and a general manner that was the culmina- 
 tion of dauntlessness. 
 
 " Don't you jump at me again," said the incensed 
 and marveling Rob. 
 
 " * Jump at you,' " sniffed the woman. " I wouldn't 
 take you as a gift, by Jo ! not with a thousand acres 
 thrown in." 
 
 Rob stooped, picked up his hat, and brushed it 
 angrily. 
 
 " Get out o' here," he said to the queer woman. 
 
 She laughed, switched around an oxwhip that she 
 had been holding in her left hand, raised it, and cracked 
 the lash in the air with ringing exuberance. 
 
 " You measly little puppies," she cried, " out here 
 ar ran gin' to make a pair o' selfish dung-hill swine o* 
 yerselves, with Mary Stingaree, in there, that's given 
 up her dearest hopes in life to come home and take care 
 of her mother and you ! " 
 
 Mrs. By jo caught her valiant breath, and continued: 
 
 " She was depending on you, Bate, to help this other 
 feller, and you know it, you hog ; and she was depending 
 on this other soft sqush of a fool to help you along, and 
 you both know it. And you'll set your lazy good-for- 
 nothing carkisses down on that poor young woman for 
 dependence, and tear the heart out o' her with your 
 mean brute ways. A dog is away beyond ye, in heart 
 and intellect both, by Jo ! Look at yerselves ! Ain't ye 
 proud? Think yerselves over a little, ye measly lard- 
 drippin's. Or, if ye can't stand it to do that and I 

 
 TWENTY CENTS AN HOUR 87 
 
 don't see how ye can think o' Mary Stingaree an* the 
 human beings 'round ye, and try to waddle out o' yer 
 sty and act as though ye'd been born with souls along 
 o' other folks." 
 
 Rob took up his saw. 
 
 " Madam," said he with a bow and a derisive snarl 
 through his white teeth, " you'd make a good one for 
 a rural play you would. Let me escort you over to 
 New York and I will promise you crowded houses." 
 
 She stood with arms akimbo, regarding him, neither 
 hurt nor hate on her face, but a contempt that was 
 terribly genuine, and quite at rest. 
 
 " I've got all the audience I want, right here," she 
 replied. " I ain't no hand for ' crowded houses.' Two 
 villains at a time is enough for me." 
 
 " Thank you, madam." 
 
 " You'll have more than that to thank me for. Just 
 you go yourself or send poor Bate Stingaree any- 
 wheres to git rum for ye, and, by Jo ! me or Jim Tur- 
 bine, or both of us together, '11 whip ye till ye squeal 
 for mercy. Am I talkin', Bate? " 
 
 " I guess ye be," said Bate wearily, slinking away 
 to his plow. 
 
 " Ye heard what Bate said? " The woman looked at 
 Rob with her unromantic, unflashing, common gray eyes. 
 
 " Pray don't hasten to leave me, madam," said Rob. 
 " I assure you, I shan't know what to do without your 
 company." 
 
 " Don't you fret. I'm goin' to keep an eye on ye, for 
 Mary's sake. Don't ye get to thinkin' that I consider 
 you interesting for I don't. Big as ye be, ye ain't man- 
 size, nowhere near."
 
 88 POWER LOT 
 
 She tramped away with her manly, self-confident 
 tread. Rob watched the two sturdy arms swinging and 
 the cant of her hat ; saw her in a field not far away 
 wake up her oxen with a crack of her whip, seize the 
 plow handles and bend to her task. 
 
 " Well," he ruminated in apostrophe, " ain't this a 
 h 1 circus of a place. A fellow 'd make more exporting 
 some of these queer hyenas than he would sweating his 
 gizzard out for a supper of dirty clams and crackers." 
 
 Still, in fact, all Mary Stingaree's cooking was very 
 clean, and the thought of it was already tantalizing 
 Rob, not unhopefully. He sawed on, with scorn in his 
 soul for the outlandish and weird community in which 
 fate had placed him. Once in a while he lifted his eyes 
 to the woman over in the field striving manfully over 
 the newly plowed ruts. 
 
 " She's a plucky old wildcat, anyhow," he averred. 
 
 Bate always went in first and promptly to his meals; 
 at the self-appointed hour he strode in, and, if Mary 
 was not ready, awaited her preparations with im- 
 patience. As he passed Rob the latter adroitly slipped 
 some money into his hand. 
 
 " Le' me 'lone," said Bate, instantly dropping the 
 money into the chips. " Want to git me into a scrape? 
 Ef you want somethin* ter drink, ye'll have ter light 
 out somewhar's else, f'r all me; that's what I'm goin' 
 ter do soon as I git a chance." 
 
 What was it, Rob wondered, of which the fellow was 
 afraid. Afraid of a woman's tongue? of a woman's 
 whip? Rob let the money lie for a space, only 
 picking it up hastily as he entered the house at the call 
 to supper. Mary saw the act.
 
 TWENTY CENTS AN HOUR 89 
 
 Bate ate as usual in surly silence. Mary Stingaree's 
 eyes were more distasteful to Rob than even the thought 
 of the plow-woman's lash. Mary's cheeks were flushed, 
 and she seemed inclined to talk, of her past experiences, 
 of such current events as she had any opportunity to 
 learn ; the tone and manner of a lady a cultivation 
 beyond any circle even that Rob had ever known. 
 
 When she willed that he should look at her, the poor 
 wretch was always conscious of it and eventually lifted 
 his head. He did so now and met her eyes ; in their de- 
 spair and sorrow, unconsciously they scourged him. 
 More than that, it struck him for the first time that 
 they were bewilderingly beautiful eyes, that her color 
 was fine, her features entrancing. She looked young 
 this night. He recalled what Cuby had said, that Mary 
 Stingaree was only twenty-five. He stared stupidly at 
 her; for he felt that it mattered little: he was debased 
 in his own eyes and in hers. She knew that he was 
 drink-crazy, that he had attempted to suborn another 
 an even more pitiful drunkard than himself to do 
 his besotted will in procuring drink for them both. It 
 was " damnable cruel," he thought, to have a man's 
 head growing clearer under such circumstances. 
 
 To realize by some dull pang outside his own volition 
 the matchless beauty and desirability of a woman who 
 was in the stars out of his reach, utterly and forever ; 
 and he, awakened, at such a moment, to find himself 
 lying worthless, broken, and besotted in the lowest ditch 
 of earth. 
 
 " Virginia Stafford was in to see me this afternoon," 
 said Mary conversationally. 
 
 "Who?"
 
 90 POWER LOT 
 
 " The woman they have nicknamed * Mrs. By jo.' She 
 can bear a goodly number of nicknames and of eccen- 
 tricities," continued Mary, smiling ; " she is large 
 enough in nature to stand it." 
 
 "You mean that plow-woman?" said Rob dully. 
 The subject did not interest him. 
 
 " Yes, I mean the plow-woman " Mary was not in 
 the least disconcerted. " And by the way, she is the 
 most successful farmer in Power Lot; not that she is 
 accumulating wealth, but incredible to me, anyway 
 she is able to send something something every six 
 months toward the support of the two orphan children 
 her brother left, back in the States ; enough, at least, 
 with the little their father left them, so that they are 
 not made objects of charity. How she does it, I 
 do not know; but she does it. She rises regularly at 
 five. She is indefatigable; she is unconquerable by 
 adversity or misfortune. She could lead an army." 
 
 " I like a woman to be a woman," said Rob stupidly, 
 and a little crossly. Bate had risen some time before, 
 and left the room with a covert sneer. 
 
 " And I," said Mary, very sweetly and clearly, but 
 hitting straight from the shoulder, " I like a man to be 
 a man." 
 
 Rob flushed violently. The look he met on her face 
 was almost tender, though ; it bridged the distance 
 between her and him with a certain grandeur of hu- 
 mility and faith. Rob felt no excuse for anger and no 
 desire to rise in wrath. 
 
 " Well, Miss Stingaree," said he sadly, " I expect I 
 deserve that hit all right;" and his mouth worked 
 pitifully.
 
 TWENTY CENTS AN HOUR 91 
 
 Yet if the desired cup of his former weakness and 
 quondam destruction had been set before him on that 
 instant he would have drunk of it without hesitation 
 or compunction. 
 
 Mary knew. " While I am ' hitting,' " she went on, 
 her eyes conveying their splendid challenge of pity and 
 loyalty " while I am hitting my friend Robert, do 
 you mind if I hit pretty hard? " 
 
 " No," sighed the hopeless victim, " I like to have you 
 pommel me." 
 
 It was the turn for Mary's cheeks to spring aflame. 
 His weakness exasperated her, his sudden subjection 
 disgusted her. 
 
 " I could understand, possibly, the recklessness, the 
 madness, of your trying to get drink again for your- 
 self, but to attempt to employ a wreck like my brother 
 for the purpose that was too perfidious, too craven." 
 
 " You don't understand," Rob protested, meeting 
 her look straightway, though the red of shame was deep 
 on his face. " I did not think I did not mean per- 
 haps you go by rule and square then take somebody 
 straighter than I am to prove your measurements by." 
 
 " Straighter than you," Mary ejaculated in scorn. 
 
 " I don't mean physically," stammered Rob. 
 
 "How, then?" 
 
 Rob's adventures in metaphysics had been few and 
 far between. He hesitated. 
 
 " Did you ever think much, I wonder " Mary 
 seemed to muse " of the misfortune, the deformity, the 
 hideous woe actually born into this world to take its 
 human shape and suffer through its whole existence 
 here because of a lack of any fair equipment for life? "
 
 92 POWER LOT 
 
 "You see a lot of it in the city," Rob returned, 
 grateful, at least, for the diversion, and now on solid 
 ground ; " I've often wondered why God did it." 
 
 He was far from being at ease with her ; words would 
 not come to him. He felt as if he were in the backward 
 class in school before her, and his size and opportunities 
 made the position ridiculous. He would have given 
 the world at that moment to be a strong, morally 
 stalwart, masterful man before Mary Stingaree. 
 
 " And you tell me that you are of that sort," she 
 sighed ; " only morally deficient and deformed, instead 
 of physically. Somehow, I cannot believe it." 
 
 In his heart Rob was glad that she could not ; his 
 position, however, became increasingly awkward. She 
 was waiting, gently, not in the least imperatively, for 
 an answer ; and he was hard put to it to know what to 
 answer. 
 
 " There's a great deal in environment, you know," he 
 affirmed lightly, with a high blush. 
 
 "Yes, there must be," she said, very slowly and 
 gravely, " to conquer a man of the size that you are 
 both in soul and body." 
 
 Rob could not look at her now; his heart gave a 
 tumultuous leap, tears sprang to his eyes. She had re- 
 instated him over the waste of lost ideals and a squan- 
 dered life. Did she mean it? Yes, she meant it his 
 soul averred for she seemed to dislike him personally ; 
 she would not flatter him. The soothing words seemed 
 almost to have been spoken against her will. 
 
 Let her say what she might about him therefore, let 
 her shrink from him as she might he loved her, he 
 adored her the thought suffused him he could not
 
 TWENTY CENTS AN HOUR 93 
 
 look at her. But his shoulders straightened, the boyish 
 laugh came crisply through his white teeth. 
 
 " I guess it might be that the fault lies pretty much 
 with Rob Hilton," he admitted; "it might be that 
 he's a fellow that's been damnably thoughtless and 
 self-indulgent and lazy. Well, anyway," he sighed, 
 rather proudly, " it does a fellow good to have some- 
 body to own up to, and I I thank you." 
 
 His eyes sprang to hers with almost a cry for sym- 
 pathy ; and it was enough that she smiled at him ; she 
 did not speak. She smiled at him, after all, he re- 
 flected not with him. He was petulant in his haste 
 to assume what he had forfeited; and Mary's smile 
 was kind enough, wholly without spiritual conceit 
 and at the same time as inevitably, hopelessly removed 
 from him as her beautiful eyes were in themselves a 
 symbol of exotic splendor. 
 
 He endeavored foolishly, on the instant, to imagine 
 that her hands, worn and disfigured somewhat by un- 
 accustomed housework, brought her in some sense to 
 a lower level, but the thought would not linger. Rather, 
 she was a queen as she excused herself and went out to 
 her work in the kitchen. 
 
 " ' Environment ' doesn't make or mar her," was 
 Rob's mental comment. " No, by Jove, environment 
 don't touch her. Well, I've known girls as high-flown 
 as she that would marry me when I had my money 
 but she wouldn't marry me, money or no money ; she'd 
 claw my eyes out before she'd marry me." 
 
 Rob went up to his own room, his mind sweeping 
 impetuous, unstable from one new thought to another. 
 Drinking, not thinking, had been his occupation, as one
 
 94 POWER LOT 
 
 may say truthfully. Drinking, playing, mental som- 
 nolence not thinking, not even truly feeling. The 
 sudden plunge into so untried an employment drove 
 him like a fever. 
 
 Oh, for a drink now to still the tempest in his brain 
 as well as to quench his diseased abnormal physical 
 craving. He paced the floor like a madman. A glim- 
 mer, fuller and more penetrating than usual, drew his 
 attention. He saw that the best lamp had been set 
 burning in his room, making it cozy and light; for, 
 though it was Spring, the nights were wintry cold. 
 Extra covering had been piled on the bed, and the little 
 stand with the Bible had some of the latest magazines 
 on it, sent to Mary by acquaintances and friends who 
 had not quite forgotten her in their more luxurious 
 world. The best of her estate she had given to him to 
 warm and cheer him. 
 
 " That was very good of her," said Rob, and paused 
 and made a sort of bow before the table, as if acknowl- 
 edging some courtesy in a drawing-room. He fingered 
 the magazines so heedlessly they fluttered off to the 
 floor, leaving the Bible exposed. 
 
 " I haven't read that old book "Rob's wild thoughts 
 suddenly leaped to a concentration somewhere " not 
 since I was a little shaver in black velvet and stopped to 
 Sunday school with old Hulda, my nurse, waiting for 
 me on the back bench. Black velvet and ruffled shirt, 
 and curls to my waist portrait full-length, in the 
 library at home, little whip in my hand; standing by 
 white pony ; face as dimpled and sweet as a baby that's 
 just sucked himself full from a nursing-bottle. Re- 
 member how Florry Doreen went up and pasted pink
 
 TWENTY CENTS AN HOUR 95 
 
 wings on to it, that night Fred and I had half the 
 ballet there. Oh, my God ! how long ago it all seems ! " 
 
 Indirectly and heedlessly, he threw open the long- 
 forgotten book, and it lay flat, with a certain remark- 
 able story staring up at him in big print : 
 
 " Jesus therefore, being wearied with his journey, 
 sat thus at the well : and it was about the sixth hour. 
 
 " There cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water. 
 Jesus saith unto her, Give me to drink. 
 
 " Then saith the woman of Samaria unto him, How 
 is it that thou, being a Jew, asketh drink of me, which 
 am a woman of Samaria? for the Jews have no deal- 
 ings with the Samaritans. 
 
 " Jesus answered and said unto her, If thou knewest 
 the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give 
 me to drink, thou wouldst have asked of him, and he 
 would have given thee living water. . . . 
 
 " Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again : 
 
 " But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall 
 give him shall never thirst." 
 
 Rob, standing carelessly by the table, read the story 
 quite through ; then flipped the book together again. 
 Black velvet and pony-whip ; and, years later, the orgy 
 with Florry Doreen, and pink wings pasted on the 
 glass over his cherubic portrait. Back in the black- 
 velvet age, another impression, that stood out before 
 him with undimmed vitality, and which he expounded 
 indifferently to the low walls of his room. 
 
 " That's religion that ' water it tells about in the 
 Bible ; it means * religion.' " 
 
 The amiable quality of piety was entirely dissociated 
 in Rob's mind from his maddening desire to be on a
 
 96 POWER LOT 
 
 character-plane corresponding with, or above, that of 
 Mary Stingaree and her like to rule, to command, to 
 reign, as somehow, though poverty-stricken, she never- 
 theless reigned. 
 
 Throwing himself on his bed, his tumultuous brain 
 craved to know how, quickly, by some means to reach 
 that altitude; exulted in the fever of imagination as 
 though he were there; sank again into bitter despon- 
 dency ; and ever, into the background of his confused 
 and restless tossing, there slowly took shape and grew 
 before him into almost palpable distinctness, the por- 
 trait of a dimpled boy, with love and faith and heavenly 
 innocence in his smiling blue eyes. 
 
 So was heaven merciful to him, for otherwise he could 
 not have slept; but at last the portrait, so far away 
 from him in every sense now that it seemed no more 
 than the portrait of a strange existence, lured him with 
 its sweet young smile into the untroubled pastures of 
 sleep.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 JOGGINS NOT SO STEEP 
 
 " IT'S a shame for you to give me the best of every- 
 thing, Miss Stingaree. You must not do it." Rob 
 brought down the parlor lamp in the morning himself, 
 with this remark. Mary looked up with interest, Bate 
 with stolid amaze. 
 
 Mary was entering the room bearing a platter ; Rob 
 held the door open for her with his disengaged hand, 
 at the same time bending his head very low. Bate's 
 stolid amaze turned to a sly, knowing leer. " He's 
 after the old girl," thought this exalted being. 
 
 Poor Rob would have been only scandalized by the 
 profanation of such a thought. He was not " after 
 Mary " : she was out of his reach. But he had awak- 
 ened unaccountably refreshed, had rubbed himself vig- 
 orously with cold water, perforce, there being no other, 
 had brushed his hair to a sense of physical perfection. 
 The tonic of the wild air shone in his blood; and, 
 though he must eliminate Mary Stingaree as any tender 
 aspiration from his equation of life, yet he meant to 
 have just as good a time as possible under the cir- 
 cumstances. So he held the door open, with his master- 
 piece bow, and waited. 
 
 " Thank you," she replied. Her face brightened. 
 Rob continued his courteous offices at the table, begging 
 permission to pass the food whenever occasion required. 
 97
 
 98 POWER LOT 
 
 He addressed some general remarks on the administra- 
 tive policy of farming to Bate, whose sly leer widened 
 under this auspicious fostering as he growled in 
 reply. 
 
 " Miss Stingaree," said Rob, as they rose, *' you 
 offered me the the oxen and cart, yesterday ; but I 
 I well, I went down to Bear River to make some ar- 
 rangements about ahem about rockweed. Will it 
 be convenient for you to let me have the oxen and cart 
 to-day?" 
 
 " Have you planned to use them to-day, Bate? " Mary 
 asked. 
 
 Bate shook his head, with an anticipation in his eye 
 which took on as nearly the hue of wickedness as his 
 dull and degraded emotions could convey. 
 
 " Certainly," said Mary, answering Rob's request, 
 " you may take them." 
 
 " Yer ground's been dressed," muttered Bate con- 
 temptuously for Rob's ignorance ; " ye'd better plow 
 it up." 
 
 " I have my own ideas about that," replied Rob, with 
 dignity. " I wish to make a further application of 
 rockweed, to to dress it some more, in fact " the 
 vision of the beach down the shore, and bright, laugh- 
 ing Cuby Tee-bo drawing him away from the sordid 
 and unknown qualities of his unattacked farm. 
 
 " Suit yerself," rejoined Bate, departing with the 
 aforesaid glimmer of malign humor on his countenance. 
 
 Rob, for his part, went gingerly into the barnyard, 
 though it was not from fear of the oxen, those grave, 
 slow beasts ; he meant to keep his boots nice, notwith- 
 standing that fate might wield all her emprise to thwart
 
 JOGGINS NOT SO STEEP 99 
 
 him in this particular. He fastened the bells, somehow, 
 around the oxen's necks, with a certain pride in the 
 accomplishment of this bucolic rite. Then he essayed 
 to lash the yoke to their horns. The retrospective wis- 
 dom of ages sat in their mild eyes as they consented to 
 observe, for a time, the freshness and novelty of his 
 adventures in this regard. One of them, indeed, in an 
 easy fit of abstraction, had become bound after a 
 fashion, at which pass the other indolently demurred, to 
 the extent of stepping a yard or two away out of the 
 range of Rob's boresome experiments. How to get this 
 mildly recalcitrant beast into the required close prox- 
 imity to his mate? 
 
 " Come here, sir," cried Rob manfully, fraternally, 
 " come you here, sir." 
 
 Ox, standing a yard or so away, gazed at Rob in a 
 placid, removed trance of rumination. 
 
 " Come up here, good old fellow. Come alongside. 
 Gee. Haw. Giddup. I'm done fooling with you 
 now you march along up here." 
 
 Ox, motionless, closed his weary eyes and chewed the 
 cud. 
 
 Rob took the oxwhip from its support against the 
 fence and attempted to snap the lash in true rural fash- 
 ion. The result was like that of a torpedo which falls 
 in untimely disintegration and does not explode. Ox, 
 dreaming, perhaps, of the insects of summer dream- 
 ing, anyway rouses enough to survey Rob through the 
 unperturbed fringe of an eyelash and walks to the far 
 end of the yard. Rob tramped through the mire to his 
 rear and flecked him tentatively with the whip. Ox, 
 with a mere show of quickness that was redolent also
 
 100 POWER LOT 
 
 of contempt, walks to another remote corner. So, 
 round and round the barnyard, Rob followed that 
 dignified, speculative, half-somnolent animal, the latter 
 seeking every nook and corner save the accustomed one 
 at his mate's side. Rob, amidst deeper chagrin, sur- 
 veyed helplessly the spectacle of his boots. 
 
 " Bate, Bate!" he called at last, in a confidentially 
 insinuating tone. Bate, if the truth had been known, 
 had gone on down the road to share the facetious news 
 generously with others, and to watch Rob's later pro- 
 cession. 
 
 Peering over the fence, Rob saw Mrs. By jo striding 
 self-confidently over her own acres. He left the occult 
 and confounding proposition in the barnyard, and ap- 
 peared before her, very cordially, and also very red in 
 the face. His hat went off voluntarily, by his own 
 hand this time: 
 
 " Mrs. Stafford, may I ask a great favor of 
 you?" 
 
 " Certainly. What can I do to help you?" replied 
 the woman briskly, her good-humored eyes meeting his 
 frankly. 
 
 " Those confounded oxen won't hang together," said 
 Rob. 
 
 " That so? Well, we'll hang 'em." 
 
 With a few sturdy admonitions by word of mouth, 
 and some equally drastic manipulations of the whip, 
 Mrs. By jo had the oxen yoked in no time. 
 
 " When you want 'em to make to the right, * gee ' 
 'em so ; when you want 'em to steer to the left, * haw ' 
 'em this way ; when you want to stop 'em, * whoa ' 'em 
 right up for'ard with the whip so." She handed the
 
 JOGGINS NOT SO STEEP 101 
 
 whip to Rob. " You'd better take the Joggins road," 
 she added ; " it's not so steep, opens right off my farm, 
 there, into the woods. Bear down the lane here, then 
 steer along the track on the edge o j the woods till ye 
 turn down into Joggins." 
 
 " Thank you, a thousand times thank you, Mrs. 
 Stafford," said Rob, humbly, obsequious that is the 
 truth before the woman who had whacked him the day 
 before, and yoked the oxen for him this morning. But 
 the wind on that hill-plain somehow blew all the past 
 vapors, weaknesses, and mortifications out of a man's 
 brain; its health and monitions were sufficient for the 
 hour. 
 
 Rob stepped into the cart carefully, his long legs 
 having known recent paralysis. He blushed a little ; he 
 envied, actually, that morning, more than aught else 
 on earth, just the thighs and sinews of a lusty clod- 
 hopper. 
 
 " Look here, Mr. Hilton," the woman called after 
 him, with the kindest intention, her sturdy arms akimbo, 
 " if I were you, I'd get out and walk, by Jo, till I got 
 a leetle more experience drivin' my team." 
 
 " Oh, I think I know the ropes now all right, thank 
 you, Mrs. Stafford," said Rob, again lifting his hat; 
 " these beasts never go out of a walk, you know." 
 
 Rob did not hear it, but a stifled murmur went down 
 the sylvan shades of the Joggins road : " He's turned 
 in to Joggins. He's in sight. Daisy's comin'. Daisy 
 Lee's a-comin'. He's ridin', too, cock-sure, the ridick- 
 'lous ass." 
 
 As for Daisy himself, he sat on the rough plank laid 
 casually overlapping the sideboards of the cart ; and all
 
 102 POWER LOT 
 
 his study was, by constant maneuvering, to keep the 
 plank which was constantly changing its position, by 
 reason of the roughness of the road from upsetting, 
 and at the same time to maintain something like a self- 
 respecting equilibrium. Absorbed in this pursuit, he 
 went rattling and pommeling down Joggins, using the 
 butt-end of his whip for a personal bracer, his clay 
 pipe clenched between his teeth ; and so agilely, more 
 and more, did he conduct himself that his pride ex- 
 panded with each athletic avoidance of overthrow and 
 destruction, his eyes shone with the exercise, his cheeks 
 were braw with color, and, though riding only in a 
 miserable oxcart, to be sure, yet Rob began actually 
 to glow with the sensation of being a big, skillful, devil- 
 may-care, masterful wildman. 
 
 Then it was that a domestic cat, having either 
 through some malign human persuasion, or else through 
 some sullen grief and purpose of her own, deserted the 
 affiliations of her proper home for a flight into the 
 woods, sprang pointedly, and with a swiftness as 
 though she had been winged, across the road right in 
 the faces of the oxen. 
 
 From no former movement that Rob had ever dis- 
 cerned in them could he have anticipated the panther- 
 like celerity of the elliptic which they now performed in 
 the upper circles of the atmosphere. The ponderous 
 climax of their descent he observed from a sitting 
 posture in the perturbed and indignant center of a 
 mountain spring ; the plank which had so recently been 
 his insecure support had hurtled harmlessly over his 
 head, giving him in its fall a no more dignified attack 
 than the throwing of a jocose splinter to tickl$ his left
 
 JOGGINS NOT SO STEEP 103 
 
 ear ; while the oxen continued down Joggins on a run 
 not now so swift as it was deafeningly celebrant with 
 noise. 
 
 Bate, with an improvised whip, sprang out from 
 the bushes and stayed this unbecoming spectacle of 
 ponderous levity. Another figure emerged with the 
 deceptive manner as of having paused for diversion on 
 its legitimate way to important affairs. Captain 
 Belcher leaned against a tree, not weeping in spirit, 
 though his appearance was certainly that of an hysteri- 
 cal mourner. He mopped his eyes and cheeks with a 
 handkerchief of unutterable hue. 
 
 " That circus you giv' me t'other day wan't com- 
 plete without a chariot race," he moaned, " was it, 
 Mr. Lee? I knew the chariot race 'ud have ter come, 
 and, by Tunk, it has come." 
 
 Other apparitions hailed from the covert of the 
 wood, other evidences of lively entertainment greeted 
 poor Rob's wounded ear ere yet he had had time to 
 rise from his sitting posture in the pool by the wayside. 
 Devoutly then he even wished that he might discover a 
 broken bone to shame this heartless ribaldry: but he 
 found on rising that he was entirely whole, nay, even 
 limbered by his abrupt descent into the ditch. 
 
 Whether to turn and go home and meet Mary 
 Stingaree, and Mrs. By jo, who had become a factor 
 serious to cope with no; Rob braced himself. His 
 head was clear, and humiliation at a certain depth 
 suffers a rebound. He advanced with squared shoulders 
 to the group surrounding the oxen. 
 
 " I'm downright sorry, Bate," he said. " I had an 
 impression, somehow, that oxen never got frightened.
 
 104 POWER LOT 
 
 If you hadn't been in the woods, my carelessness might 
 have done lots of damage to your team. I ought to 
 have been on my guard." 
 
 " I knew somethin' 'd happen to ye," replied Bate 
 ungraciously, examining the yoke straps. 
 
 " Well, may I go on with the oxen? " said Rob. " I'll 
 walk along at their heads this time." 
 
 " Oh, g'wan," said Bate ; " ye may as well make a 
 day of it." 
 
 Rob tramped on almost clingingly close to the horned 
 beasts who had betrayed him; though he was now ap- 
 parently alone, he was skeptical; the air was somehow 
 rife with mischief and the tinkling bells on the oxen's 
 necks seemed to mock his sad, defeated heart. Even in 
 Power Lot, God Help Us, he was already a jest and a 
 byword, and now at Bear River he had become a by- 
 word and a hissing. By the shores of the great Basin 
 there were some neat houses where retired sea captains 
 and moderately prosperous farmers dwelt, a society 
 away beyond his reach ; so felt Mr. Robert Hilton, late 
 millionaire. 
 
 So judged he implicitly in his really modest, even 
 childlike, heart, however great his outward bravado, 
 that only the lowest of the low would tolerate him, and 
 they, perchance, but condescendingly. 
 
 Judging by the Tee-bo cabin, down the River, they, 
 too, were the lowest of the low. Would Cuby have 
 arrived and be waiting to meet him on the beach as she 
 had promised? No, she was not there, he found; nor 
 did she come. The tide was low, it chanced, and he 
 was saved that much ridicule. He had made no reckon- 
 ing concerning it, and it was only by luck that he had
 
 JOGGINS NOT SO STEEP 105 
 
 not come down, so perilously and ignominiously, with 
 the oxen to gather rockweed at high tide. 
 
 He halted his oxen successfully at the place where 
 Cuby had admonished him to gather in those spoils of 
 the sea, but he had forgotten to bring rake, pitchfork, 
 or sheath-knife. Some sparse, ragged kelp had been 
 drifted up on the beach, however, and to save himself 
 from the shame of complete futility, he began gather- 
 ing it up in his hands and carrying it to the cart. 
 Though he toiled arduously, the accumulated product 
 was startlingly insignificant. He looked not much 
 about him, so grievously conscious was he of unseen 
 existences in the atmosphere peering derisively down 
 upon his toils. 
 
 On the contrary, the voice that did actually assail 
 him was mild, feeling, almost timid: 
 
 " What in Tamarack be you a-doin'? " it said. 
 
 Rob looked up and found that he was alone with the 
 sea, the bowlders, and an old man in a fur cap, red 
 woolen stockings, and short trousers of sacking. But 
 it was the old man's face that held Rob's attention, 
 framed as it was in white hair blowing in the wind, and 
 with eyes like large, young, sinless violets looking out 
 from the sod and seam of weather-beaten features. 
 
 " What tamarack what ? " said poor Rob inquisi- 
 tively, in his confusion. 
 
 " Wai', what in tarnation thunder, then, be you 
 a-doin'?" 
 
 " Why, I was going to take a little rockweed up to 
 dress my land." 
 
 " Le' me see, you're the feller what's come from 
 New York up to Power Lot, ain't ye? God help us."
 
 106 POWER LOT 
 
 This instant recognition of him through his dilemma 
 did not seem flattering to Rob. 
 
 " I am," he replied coldly, " Robert Hilton. Whom 
 have I the pleasure of addressing? " 
 
 '* Skipper. Skipper '11 do. I ain't heard no other 
 name so long, I 'most forgot I got any other name." 
 Pride, tinged with vanity, dwelt peacefully on the old 
 man's lips as he uttered this term. 
 
 Rob melted. " I am delighted," he said, stepping 
 forward, " to make your acquaintance, Skipper." 
 
 " Oh, wal', I don't know as we c'd call it gittin' ac- 
 quainted, yit," said the old man conscientiously, " tho' 
 it may come to that ef we keep on. Ye got a h'ist, 
 didn't ye?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Yer clo's, to aft o' ye thar, look as though ye'd had 
 a h'ist." 
 
 " Yes oh, yes I had a h'ist, all right. The oxen 
 shied at a cat." 
 
 " Slewed and upsot ye, eh? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Hurt ye?" 
 
 " No," said Rob bitterly, " I almost wish it had." 
 
 " Sho, don't you go wigglin' yer finger at Providence 
 temptin' Him to heave aches and pains on to ye. I 
 know, for I'm a victim o' rheumatiz: it's ache and pain, 
 pain and ache, throb and beat, beat and throb, and, 
 some nights, roll and toss, toss and roll roll and toss, 
 toss and roll." 
 
 " As it is out yonder," said Rob, the vivid restless- 
 ness of Skipper's phrase turning him to the poetry of 
 the sea.
 
 JOGGINS NOT SO STEEP 107 
 
 " I use' ter be the very toughest devil 'long shore 
 here," Skipper confided, looking out wistfully to sea. 
 
 " It doesn't seem possible." 
 
 " It's down in black and white in the Books ag'in' 
 me," affirmed the old man, with a reminiscent sigh of 
 satisfaction. " I was the streakin'est, ontamable dog 
 't ever made out on the Bay o' Fundy but rheumatiz 
 has tamed me." 
 
 Rob's own actual physical sufferings returned to his 
 recollection, and he yearned as to a kindred soul. 
 
 " I was a gre't drinker, too," boasted Skipper, t plac- 
 idly, " an' Gosh A'mighty, the perf anity I use' ter 
 use!" 
 
 He was preaching, perhaps. Rob bridled. " I sup- 
 pose you've heard some sort of meddling, unkind stories 
 about me," he suggested, reddening. 
 
 " Never seen ye nor heern tell of ye, afore, 'cept ye 
 was somebody comin' ter Power Lot, f'r yer health, 
 God help us." There was no curiosity and little interest 
 in the strangely undimmed, deep-set eyes of the old man. 
 Those pansied eyes gave to his face an expression of 
 womanly tenderness, rendered only more wistful by his 
 professed hankering after past wildness. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I was a devil-screecher, I was. I was a 
 roarer." 
 
 " I've been something of a roarer, too," Rob confided 
 in turn, all his suspicions allayed. 
 
 " Was ye? " said Skipper, wakening. " Master or 
 mate? " 
 
 " Master," blurted out Rob, with tears of regret and 
 desolation in his eyes, " and a d d poor one, too." 
 
 "Run her on the ledges, mebby, an' wrecked her?"
 
 108 POWER LOT 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Nev J mind. Nev' mind ; ye're young ; y'll fittcn 
 out a new vessel an' gallop 'er over seas, yit, you will. 
 What's the next cruise ye're cal'latin' on?" 
 
 " New York City." 
 
 " Sho ! You strike Pr different orders, you 'ply f r 
 another berth. Sho, down among them * trusts ' ; ef I 
 was you I'd make f'r some Christian port, or innerccnt 
 heathen one, I would. Trusts, blame durn 'em, my las' 
 Sunday roast cost me thirty-four cents, an' she didn't 
 weigh quite on to six pounds, neither ; an' them trusts 
 is to the bottom of it, durn blast 'em." 
 
 " What kind of meat was it? " 
 
 " Sirline. Lo'ette an' me ain't got our 'riginal God- 
 bestowed grinders no longer; sirline 's tough 's we're 
 able to chaw up at our time o' the day." 
 
 " What did you use to pay for your Sunday roast? " 
 
 "Twenty cents," sighed Skipper. 
 
 " It's becoming an iniquitous imposition on you," 
 said Rob sympathetically. 
 
 " Don't say a word. Look at medicines and doctors 
 they've got on to the dicker, too. Had a little fric- 
 tion in my throat; rheumatiz left my legs, one time, 
 'long about first o' May, an' hived up in my throat. 
 Sent the descriptions o' my case to a young doctor the' 
 was then down to Bear River, an', by Tamarack, I sent 
 ten cents, too, along o' the descriptions. He sent me 
 back a leetle box o' pills." 
 
 "Did they help you?" 
 
 "They purty nigh done for me. I lay so low the 
 case was took out o' my hands, an' the critter came up 
 thar' twice a day in 'tendance on me, till I got my mor-
 
 JOGGINS NOT SO STEEP 109 
 
 tality up as whar' I could shout ag'in then says I, 
 ' You go home an' make out yer bill ; I ain't goin' 
 to continue the treatment no longer.' " 
 
 " How much was the bill? " Rob ventured. 
 
 " Fifty cents, by Kresis. I paid the bill, but I got 
 my opinions o' that doctor. Sick er well, I'll anchor 
 up by Peruny the rest o' my days." 
 
 " Is Peruny cheap ? " Rob questioned, with childlike 
 faith. 
 
 " She ain't so cheap," said Skipper, with intonations 
 of savory reminiscence, " as she is toothsome. Water's 
 all right, but a man 't 's been the dog I been wants 
 to tie up once in a while to somethin' 't 's got a wasp 
 in it. Now, look at them gulls ! Jest look ! " 
 
 Rob looked. 
 
 " They got a blame durn trust o' their own," said 
 Skipper. " I come down here to smelt a bit." 
 
 "To what?" 
 
 " Wai', not so much to smelt as to herrin'. I reck- 
 oned to git a few off the boys; but jest look thar'. 
 Soon as a few herrin' pokes in, the gulls comes an' 
 picks 'em up. See 'em, huverin' an' watchin' ain't 
 that a * trust ' ? New York you make f 'r some decent 
 port, young man. Wai', I got ter scrabble up the 
 bluffs to'ds home." 
 
 Skipper turned unceremoniously. 
 
 " Good-by," said Rob, holding out his hands. Rob 
 had a lonesome look. " I'd like to come up and see 
 you and Mrs. Skipper some time," he almost pleaded. 
 
 " God-in-heaven," said the old man, with frank sur- 
 prise at the craving look and tone ; " why in Tamarack 
 don't ye come then? Lo'ette ain't much ter look at,
 
 110 POWER LOT 
 
 hut she's a good woman, my woman is ; one o' these 
 'ore flowcr-rnisin', Bible-readin', meetin'-goin' kind. It's 
 a good kind ter have. I'm more 'n satisfied. Phew, 
 thar' it is, pain an' ache, ache an' pain, beat an' throb, 
 throb an' beat, an' sometimes roll an' toss, toss an' roll ; 
 roll an' toss, toss an' " 
 
 Rob gathered the dying cadences of Skipper's apos- 
 trophe to rheumatism as he watched him climb the 
 bluffs to the comfortable white house in the distance. 
 Rob, who had been very rich, who had been assiduously 
 courted, before his downward course became too fool- 
 ish and rapid Rob looked with awe to that ordinary 
 white house and the coveted privilege of calling on 
 that sad dog, the skipper, and his old wife Lo'ette. 
 He was comforted, though, by his communion with a 
 fellow-creature. The tide had crept in and regathered 
 the rockweed from the beach; so he started the oxen 
 pensively homeward with a scarcely perceptible amount 
 of sea-spoil, lying withered and puny on the cart- 
 bottom. 
 
 He felt that bright Cuby Tee-bo, with the others, 
 had given him over to ridicule, and he tramped on au- 
 tomatically, with his eyes on the ground, and with the 
 intention of getting up the Joggins road in time to 
 saw enough wood to pay for his supper. He was 
 taking in this new life stupidly, but, now that his head 
 was clear, with a sort of dogged faithfulness. 
 
 "Daisy! Halloo!" 
 
 An imperative voice, subdued to confidence, certified 
 him of an engaging presence near; at the same time 
 he caught the* starlight and sunlight of brown eyes 
 peering out at him, all the more luminous for the con-
 
 JOGGINS NOT SO STEEP 111 
 
 trast they made with the dark firs skirting the Joggins 
 road. 
 
 "Why, Cuby. Hello, Cuby. How do you do?" 
 Rob, the forsaken, could hardly believe his good luck. 
 " Why didn't you come to the beach as you said? " 
 
 'Cause I'm 'shamed o' you that's why." 
 
 Rob saw interest and affection still lurking under her 
 forbidding demeanor, and, bravely smiling, he stood 
 and gazed at her with an expression of ever-increasing 
 fondness. 
 
 " Ridin' bumpity-bump like a green-a-horn down 
 Joggins," she flouted him ; " an' gettin' runaway with 
 them oxen. And now, look me, at what you are bringin' 
 home. The boys shall make a laugh at you. Already 
 they wait with Bate to help-a you onload. Dump out 
 this minute that so small little mess o' weeds." 
 
 " Isn't it better to take home a little than none, 
 Cuby?" 
 
 " No, it is not so." 
 
 With her Ifthe brown hands she was already scatter- 
 ing the weeds as indistinguishably as possible into the 
 ditch. Rob without further question sprang to aid 
 her in the sacrifice. 
 
 " But now I cannot ' dress ' my land any," he ad- 
 monished her. 
 
 " I said that to make fool of you and to have you 
 come to the beach," she admitted ; " but I knew not 
 that you was already such a fool as you turn yourself 
 out to be. No, I did not." 
 
 Rob bit the lip under his mustache. Had the insult 
 come from a masculine source he would have darted an 
 impetuous blow at the aggressor. Offense or defense
 
 112 POWER LOT 
 
 were not to be thought of under the circumstances ; in- 
 dignation quickly faded. Cuby was bewitching, in spite 
 of the fussy Sunday hat which she had donned for the 
 occasion. There were three corners to this hat, and 
 from each corner depended a bunch of artificial flowers. 
 Cuby's face sparkled between lilies of the valley and 
 full-blown red roses, and the roses were wan beside her 
 cheeks, and the lilies were yellow in contrast with her 
 teeth. Added to all this brilliance, there was a pro- 
 voking and alluring flame in her eyes. 
 
 " Bate, he says you have begun to make courtin' at 
 his sister, Ma'y Sting'ree." 
 
 " It's a lie oh, she's a nice girl woman enough, 
 for aught I know, but I I don't want her." 
 
 " Bate wants me" said Cuby ; " he wishes for to 
 get engage' to me mighty bad, too that I can tell-a 
 you." 
 
 A queenly indecision among suitors hung on her 
 red lips, and she breathed like some wild, sweet thing 
 of the forest. Rob straightway put his arm tenderly 
 over her shoulder. 
 
 " I know somebody I do love," he murmured, his 
 winsome face dangerously close to her passionate one. 
 
 " Quit you ! " cried Cuby imperiously. " We are 
 not yet engage'." 
 
 "Well, but why can't we be engaged, Cuby?" sug- 
 gested desolate Rob, and he held her closer, and his 
 lips pressed hers; and now he was ready to fight for 
 her. 
 
 Cuby did not turn pale; she was not so much in 
 love but that she remained complete master of the 
 situation and deliberately, romantically, and skillfully
 
 JOGGINS NOT SO STEEP 113 
 
 played her victim still further with the spell of her 
 flashing beauty. 
 
 " Oh, but you are so beeg, so gr-r-rand, Rober', when 
 you wish; why do you not knock the stuffin's out o' 
 them?" 
 
 Rob could have caught her in his arms, so exquisitely 
 beautiful was she in contrast with the virile matter of 
 her speech. 
 
 " You shall see," he hissed through his strong white 
 teeth, in a sympathetic ardor of animosity, but, above 
 all, longing to hug Cuby Tee-bo. 
 
 " Me no I fear you are too sof," she hesitated 
 sadly ; " they make such a laugh, I almost cry, an' 
 am mad; almost they hear me out loud I am so mad, 
 that, after all I tell you, you make yourself so ' sissy.' 
 Ugh ! Bah ! An' stay not on the board, no, but wreegle 
 yourself, an' go bumpity-bump, bumpity-bump oh, 
 tarn ! an' then make yourself one beeg tumble." 
 
 " Very well, Cuby, I was careless, but another time 
 Rob Hilton stays on the board will you remember 
 that? And right now you've got to beg my pardon 
 for calling me * Daisy,' a while ago beg ! beg! " 
 
 " I think I see myself making baig to such a sof 
 ninny-sheep like you be." 
 
 This, with Cuby's daring nature, was nothing less 
 than an approving challenge, and Rob promptly took 
 advantage of it to imprint another kiss on her tempt- 
 ing mouth ; at the same time he squeezed, and roughly, 
 the little hand folded in his. 
 
 " Beg," he commanded. 
 
 " Wai', then," at last confessed Cuby hopefully, " I 
 baig." She added, however, with great earnestness:
 
 114 POWER LOT 
 
 " Everything everything, I think, run away with 
 you. Even a leetle lamb, so weak as nothin', make 
 beeg bluff, maybe, an' run away with you. Everything 
 run away with you." 
 
 " Perhaps that is true," said Rob sternly ; " anyway, 
 Cuby sweet you have run away with me."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AS A PUGILIST 
 
 " TEN dozens of them already ; fine linen, shirts, col- 
 lars, handkerchiefs what can be done with them, 
 Robert?" 
 
 Mary herself looked as stumped in the matter as 
 did Rob. 
 
 "Why, of course," he exclaimed promptly, "I'll 
 send them out to be laundered where can I send 
 them?" 
 
 " That is just it," Mary replied. " ' Echo answers, 
 Where? ' There's no such work, in such quantities at 
 least, done anywhere about here; I don't know of any 
 woman who could do it, or would have the time, 
 with her other cares ; you see, it would take her days, 
 and the pile constantly increasing." 
 
 Rob's head swam and his heart sank as the various 
 pressing necessities of existence, hitherto unconsidered 
 or taken as a matter of course, now stared him in the 
 face and he with only one dollar left in his pocket, 
 if the truth were known. The woodpile warned him, 
 too, that for his very sustenance he was in arrears. 
 Where, moreover, and from whence, were to come means 
 for the " suckers " the staple article of Bear River 
 confectionery with which it had been his pleasure to 
 supply lovely Cuby? Where and from whence were 
 to come those sodden " plugs " of molasses-and-ginger 
 115
 
 116 POWER LOT 
 
 tobacco which he had grown to regard in some sense 
 as a mitigation of his sorrows? 
 
 " I've got to get back to New York," he ejaculated. 
 " I have friends there. Isn't there some way I can 
 get back to New York, Miss Stingaree? " he appealed 
 to her in almost a wheedling tone. " Can't you get 
 Jim to sail me over to Waldeck station? I can manage 
 then somehow to get back home. I tell you, I must 
 go. Won't you help me to arrange it, Miss Stin- 
 garee? " 
 
 " 7 wouldn't give up," said Mary, a pride transcend- 
 ing that of Lucifer flaming in her eyes ; " not for the 
 sake of some starched shirts and collars. I wouldn't 
 give up any honest work I had begun to go away and 
 beg, and cling like an infant to others for support, not 
 if I died for it." 
 
 Her look was too far above and away from him to 
 flatter him as the probing of any speciousness in his 
 conduct. She was clearly brave and matter-of-fact, 
 and, otherwise, indifferent. But, oh, she was splendid, 
 thought poor Rob, and he bit his lip and turned piti- 
 fully pale. 
 
 "Well, what what shall I do, Miss Stingaree?" 
 
 She smiled kindly. She was so radiantly far away, 
 but no shame or contempt attached to her spcec'h. 
 
 "Why not do your washing, to begin with? Wash 
 these fine things and put them away. Wear your out- 
 ing-flannels hereafter; surely you have some? And 
 you can wash them yourself every week. It is very 
 simple." 
 
 Rob stood with his mouth open until this vein of 
 reasoning had pierced his laggard intelligence. Rob
 
 HOW CAN YOU TURN YOUR HACK ON THAT VIEW?"
 
 AS A PUGILIST 117 
 
 Hilton doing his own washing ! He advanced by leaps, 
 however, when some rugged pinnacle of attainment ap- 
 pealed to his ever-ready sense of novelty. 
 
 " Gee ! " he beamed on Mary ; and with that mirth- 
 abounding smile he threw to the winds all the hitherto 
 stringent conventions and wearily artificial superflui- 
 ties of existence ; his language became confidingly reck- 
 less, too, and smacked fearlessly of the Skipper and 
 Belcher vocabulary. " Gee ! " he commended Mary, 
 "you're it! I'll do it! what in Tamarack, do I 
 care? " 
 
 Forthwith, then, he brought up the washtubs from 
 the cellar, carried water from the well, tempered it with 
 carefully prized donations from the teakettle in the 
 kitchen, and proceeded to scrub his fine linen, whistling 
 a jubilant accompaniment as he stood over the wash- 
 bench out of doors. 
 
 " How can you turn you back on that view? " cried 
 Mary very pleasantly from the door. 
 
 Rob wheeled round. White-capped bay, tumbling 
 basin ; to the left, the swelling river flanked by its tragic 
 hills ; he, upon vaster heights ; all round him an infinite 
 wild country. There came to him in that instant the 
 thought, that just to live to live, and stand, and 
 breathe was inexpressibly dramatic. 
 
 " It's great," he admitted with bared head, in a tone 
 of honest solemnity to Mary. 
 
 " By the One-Eyed Monocle," he murmured later 
 to the sud of the washboard, unconsciously repro- 
 ducing a phrase of the cosmopolitan Belcher, " but 
 this perch, all 'round here, is only fit for eagles." 
 
 Eagles, indeed, were frequently heard screaming by
 
 118 TOWER LOT 
 
 day, loons wailed by night. Rob fancied that he en- 
 joyed the loons. 
 
 " They've probably made fools o* themselves like 
 me," he consented drowsily, on those occasions when 
 their forlorn cadences had penetrated to his car at 
 night. 
 
 But the view was beginning to interest him, and the 
 breeze had salty life in it. Work, sweat, were miracu- 
 lously ridding him of his muscular stiffness and pains. 
 The craving for strong drink was maddening at times, 
 but after all what time had he to consider the matter? 
 Sawing and splitting wood in the fierce, silent pride of 
 attempting to maintain his independence, as well as 
 to supply daily sop to an increasingly unappeasable 
 appetite; plowing, planting, and all the rest of it; no 
 more Joggins, but rushing down the steep way, in some 
 brief rest from toil and back again, with sustained 
 breath now, bearing a kiss from Cuby. Altogether, the 
 days were investing Rob with a sort of kaleidoscopic 
 impetuosity of exercise. 
 
 Between meals he fed an unstilled inward appeal 
 with unmeasured quantities of water from the spring; 
 and there was still a store of apples in the cellar. 
 Bate's custom was to pick up an armful of apples, re- 
 tire with them to the pig-pen fence, and, munching the 
 sounder specimens himself, to throw over the decayed 
 ones to the pigs, while he observed with meditative 
 interest the lack of courtesy prevailing within the 
 pen, occasionally throwing over for his own entertain- 
 ment a paring or a core to swell to livelier dimensions 
 the unlovely holocaust of rivalry among the swine. 
 
 Rob had sometimes allowed the most unattractive of
 
 AS A PUGILIST 119 
 
 the fruit, together with discarded cores and skins, to 
 slip heedlessly from his hands to earth; until on one 
 occasion he saw Bate thriftily gathering them up and 
 bearing them to the pen for purposes both of utility 
 and mental revelry, as herein before described. 
 
 Not wishing any further to antagonize him, whose 
 sweetheart he had already inadvertently stolen in his 
 careless, off-hand manner, Rob gathered up a recupera- 
 tive supply of apples from the cellar and went to join 
 Bate for a few moments of friendly converse by the 
 pig-pen fence. 
 
 Bate morosely paid no attention to this tacit appeal 
 for mortal communion. 
 
 " I tell you, Bate," said Rob, nevertheless, in his 
 boyish, laughing voice, putting his shining teeth 
 through an apple, " it's deuced funny, the way we get 
 on up here, isn't it? Bacon fat and potato make 
 ' hash,' and we have hash till the old choppin'-tray must 
 be worn thin as an eggshell ; and beans and meal 
 bread ha ! ha ! And clams, and once in a while a fish ; 
 and meat for Sundays ! Really, you ought to see some 
 of the steaks we have in New York, broiled, two inches 
 thick, served up with mushrooms, and, for incidentals, 
 quail and terrapin, and scallops and frogs' hind-legs ; 
 and sauterne, and claret, and port, and fizzy cham- 
 pagne, and old whisky, and " 
 
 Rob smacked his lips, an aching sorrow in his eyes. 
 
 " Get out o' here," said Bate gruffly. 
 
 Rob thought Bate's tone signified only a heart- 
 broken appreciation of the good things so hopelessly 
 beyond his reach, and he went on : 
 
 " Say, the first few times I ate ' meat ' here, I couldn't
 
 120 POWER LOT 
 
 taste it, for wondering what it was. Ha! Ha! Tough? 
 Strings? Oh, Tamarack! But, now, I'm crazy for it. 
 Honest, Bate, I look forward to the day when old 
 Sloke '11 drive his butcher's cart up Joggins, full o' 
 leather an' shoestrings an' baseball covers. I swipe 
 mine off my plate as fast as you do, now; I give you 
 my word I'm hungry an hour after I've filled up on 
 beans and cornmeal, and then it's apples and water, 
 and water and apples Ha! Ha! and apples and 
 water, and water and apples " 
 
 " Get out o' here ! " repeated Bate, this time in a tone 
 whose inflections were unmistakably not those of sym- 
 pathy. " Just as soon as you git yer muscle up a 
 little, Daisy Lee, I'll give ye a lickin' ye '11 never f urgit. 
 But I don't want ter maul a sissy; so ye're safe." 
 
 "What is the matter with you, Bate?" said Rob, 
 deeply chagrined at this requital of his kindly meant 
 overtures. Bate had often growled openly at his food 
 and at Mary ; while Rob's present diatribe had been 
 given only in the purest jest, feeling as he did keenly 
 that gratitude was an eminently becoming garb both 
 for himself and Bate under the circumstances in which 
 poor Mary did her lavish best. He had intended only 
 a bit of jolly intercourse concerning what he regarded 
 as their mutual epicurean difficulties. 
 
 Aside from that he considered Bate as rather a sort 
 of third, slow, stupid ox on the place, a grumpy beast 
 of burden. 
 
 The snarl and menace were a disagreeable surprise. 
 
 " He's taking this excuse to attack me, because Cuby 
 likes my company," discerned Rob in a flash of mental 
 acumen, and silently he regretted that he had made
 
 AS A PUGILIST 121 
 
 Bate's ear the storehouse of his mirth ; it had not been 
 worth while. 
 
 "What is the matter with you, Bate?" he asked, 
 his sunny good-natured face and tone seeking to ig- 
 nore the later phases of the dilemma. 
 
 " Git out o' here ! " responded Bate, as if to a dog. 
 " Go and git out o' my sight, Miss Lee." 
 
 " See here, you mangy brute, I go where I like," Rob 
 advised him with portent emphasis. " You'd better 
 get over into the pen there with your mates." 
 
 Bate ground his teeth. 
 
 " Ef you darst come over thar' behind the firs," he 
 suggested tauntingly, " I'll give you a dose you can 
 chaw on till this time next year. Ef you darst, an' 
 ef you darsent I'll punish ye right here whar' ye be; 
 an' don't cry, f'r perhaps Ma'y '11 come out an' resky 
 ye. She can see ye, ef ye stay right whar' ye be." 
 
 Rob, making no pause whatever for contemplation, 
 marched over behind the firs. He towered above Bate, 
 but he was not an athlete, nor had he ever made any 
 practice, directly or indirectly, toward that end. He 
 had eluded skillfully the bore of submitting to a college 
 education ; his travels had been performed in the most 
 soft and luxurious fashion. 
 
 Bate, in spite of his occasional excesses, had the 
 sturdy muscles indurate through habits of toil and 
 hardship. 
 
 " Here I am," sneered Rob, beside himself with pas- 
 sion, " over here behind the firs where Miss Stingaree 
 can't rescue me. Now come on and punish me ! " 
 
 At the word Bate sprang toward him, aiming a swift, 
 clean blow that felled him to earth.
 
 122 POWER LOT 
 
 Rob rose staggering a fiend now, an incarnate fury 
 with but one intent. Life or death, it mattered not; 
 only to reach that sullen, derisive face leering at him 
 through the mist of his pain and frenzy ; with fists, 
 with teeth, with tearing finger-nails, he cared not how, 
 but he felt that he should reach that black taunting 
 goal before he died, and his blood surged with a blind- 
 ing ferocity. Bate, grinning, teased him, affected to 
 play with him, raining down, however, at every oppor- 
 tunity the sting of malicious blows. Rob reached a 
 point at last where he did not feel those blows, but 
 they fell off from him as from a thing insensate ; 
 his working, streaming face had taken on a deadly 
 quiet, his bloodshot eyes a superhuman steadiness and 
 watchfulness. Bate contemptuously interpreted this as 
 the glazing sign of accepted defeat ; and at that in- 
 stant he found himself sprawling on his back under the 
 scintillant glare of two blue eyes that looked as big 
 as suns, modified only by an area of set white teeth that 
 seemed of sufficient purpose to devour him; for, with 
 the intensity of his attack, Rob had fallen with him and 
 upon him. 
 
 Thus, fettering his opponent by his unexerted 
 weight, and restraining him with the clutch of desper- 
 ate arms, Rob gazed down upon him, and the blood 
 from his pink and white face dropped down upon Bate's 
 swarthy features. 
 
 " H'ist yerself , you mad ox ! " said Bate, with the 
 first impulse of his recovered breath. " Heave yer- 
 self up, you d d side-of-a-barn ! This ain't no fair 
 play." 
 
 Rob tightened the strenuous grip that held his victim.
 
 AS A PUGILIST 123 
 
 "This ain't play," he sobbed with spent breath; 
 " guess you'll find I'm in earnest 'fore I get through 
 with you." 
 
 " You durn mountain of a fool-baby, let me up, I 
 say." 
 
 Rob, a little appeased by the sight of blood on his 
 victim's face, grinned triumphantly in rejoinder. 
 
 " Say, * Mr. Hilton, I've had enough, if you please," 
 and I'll let you up." 
 
 Bate lay smoldering with hate and fury, scornfully 
 silent. Rob's breath began to come less like the gasp 
 of the dying, and he warily strengthened the fastnesses 
 of his position. Bate's very frame began to resent the 
 stricture of those confining arms ; moreover someone 
 might appear on the scene and find him in this ridiculous 
 and humiliating plight. 
 
 " Say, Rob, let me up," he said, in a bitter travesty 
 of a conciliatory tone, " and we'll call it quits." 
 
 " Say ' Mr. Hilton, I've had enough, if you please." 
 
 " Curse ye, ye may stay there till yer arms rot off, 
 then." 
 
 But while this disagreeable process was in its merest 
 inception, Mary Stingaree suddenly appeared around 
 the edge of the fir trees. 
 
 " You promised me you would not do that," she ex- 
 claimed impetuously to Bate ; then, realizing the actual 
 situation, and that it was Bate, and not Rob, who lay 
 vanquished, she stood in speechless wonder. 
 
 " I was pastin' him blind," Bate made haste to as- 
 sert, " when the great moon-calf teetered and fell on 
 me. I thought the North mountain had tumbled." 
 
 " Say," simply repeated Rob, in Mary's presence,
 
 124 POWER LOT 
 
 with unctious accents of politeness, " say * Mr. Hil- 
 ton, I've had enough, if you please,' and I'll let you up." 
 
 Bate snorted, and spake not. 
 
 " Let him up, Robert," said Mary. 
 
 At the lady's command Rob rose regretfully. 
 " Which is it," he observed, however, smoothly to Bate, 
 " which is it that Miss Stingaree has * rescued ' ? " 
 
 Bate made another spring for his adversary; but 
 a new and fresh element entered the arena at this mo- 
 ment, and Bate's truculency wilted down into a faded 
 and surly withdrawal from the scene. It was Mrs. 
 By jo, calmly and curiously inspecting the situation 
 through her spectacles, her faithful oxwhip at her side. 
 
 " Quit fightin'," she remarked dispassionately. 
 
 The sole remaining belligerent, Rob, assented to this 
 behest with a bloody smile. 
 
 " Yes 'm," he subjoined softly. 
 
 The eyes that gazed through Mrs. By jo's spectacles 
 were not so very old after all. Rob suspected a twinkle 
 in them, and a twinkle not unfriendly to himself, at 
 that. His torn heart, shattered and left empty by the 
 retreating surges of passion, warmed a little. 
 
 " Excuse me ; I think I need to go and take a bath," 
 he murmured, spurning from his mouth the warm blood 
 which trickled persistently thither from his nose. 
 
 " He had him down," he heard Mary confide to Mrs. 
 By jo, as he retreated. " Rob had him down ! " The 
 wonder in the voice cut him to the quick, and roused his 
 blood again to a vivifying storm. So it was subject 
 only for amaze that he should put anything down? 
 Very well, very well! Having washed himself, he re- 
 turned to his tubs ; but strangely enough, neither blows
 
 AS A PUGILIST 125 
 
 nor the loss of much crimson gore had weakened him 
 in the least; an apprehension of unmeasured strength 
 confused and at the same time sustained him as he 
 scrubbed at his ignominious task. 
 
 Never gleamed clothes whiter from the hand of the 
 fuller. Unconsciously Rob had put into their cleans- 
 ing the foretaste and the promise of a consummate 
 physical prowess. The manner in which he hung them 
 on the line, while it portrayed an intense security in 
 the adjustment of the clothespins, indicated, otherwise, 
 some remarkable preoccupation of mind. 
 
 Tangled bunches of handkerchiefs and collars waved 
 meekly from their vise-like attachment to the line, no 
 hope of change, no dream of wandering for them. 
 Shirts suspended variously, by the neck, by one arm, 
 by the flap, screamed in the wind as they shook their 
 disordered members menacingly in one another's faces. 
 As twilight advanced for, by reason of untoward 
 events, Rob's washing had not been finally presented 
 as a spectacle to the world until late in the day as 
 the shades of evening deepened, and the wind abated 
 not, this ghost-like throng upon the line engaged in 
 wilder antics and drearier hissing of battle ; so that, 
 it was said, certain young people from Bear River 
 actually thought it worth their while to climb the 
 steeps and stand peering in painfully suppressed merri- 
 ment from behind the bunch of firs in order to view 
 the scene. 
 
 It was well for Rob that he plodded stoutly on, un- 
 conscious of the general interest which attached to 
 this experimentative dawn of his existence; better for 
 him too, that he had not known of the small audience
 
 126 POWER LOT 
 
 gathered previously to witness his gloved attack upon 
 the household ham, which hung in the back shed. 
 
 For, let it be duly narrated, having put out his 
 wash in the manner aforesaid, he had, of meditated 
 and silent purpose, hied him in at the rear door of 
 the shed ; had there stood off and aimed so unerring 
 and ferocious a blow at the ham that it did thereupon 
 leap from its hook and pound down with a monstrous 
 noise upon the floor. 
 
 Rob, glancing warily about him, and believing him- 
 self undetected, proceeded to drive a competent bolt 
 into the rafters, and hung the ham thereon, secured 
 through its tendon with new rope, many stranded and 
 heavily tarred; he then braced off to renew the as- 
 sault. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bate had entered the house with an un- 
 accustomed look of animation, and even almost of good- 
 nature, on his face. 
 
 " Say, Ma'y, come on out to the shed. Step careful ! 
 S-sh ! Now peek in thar' through the crack." 
 
 Rob, his stage accessories complete, had just entered, 
 as we have said, on the first scene in this new arena. 
 The look he bent upon the ham was haughty, significant, 
 and merciless. He dealt the ham a stunner, and the 
 ham swung back and then returned to reach out swiftly 
 and menacingly after him. Rob retreated a pace with 
 incredible quickness, then darted forward again to 
 strike, all the glory and ambition of those renowned 
 in the ring shining in his eyes. The combat was not 
 unequal on the whole. The ham was deep-salted, tough, 
 and formidable with the sinews of maturity. Where 
 Rob had the advantage of inspired calculation, the ham
 
 AS A PUGILIST 127 
 
 had the enduring obstinacy of a creature impervious 
 to suffering or fatigue. 
 
 Rob watched his opportunities ever more and more 
 alertly and did buffet the ham right valiantly; until 
 some tired swerve of his wrist caused him to administer 
 a blow that so reacted upon his own knuckles he 
 jumped perpendicularly with the pain of it, and as 
 he descended the ham, too, returned from its flight and 
 fetched him a broadside of punishment that sent him 
 reeling against the meal barrel, to its overthrow and 
 his own accompanying downfall. Sadly, too, he fell 
 on that particular rack of the shed where a setting hen, 
 unthroned by such rude means, bristled her every 
 feather at him with angry maledictions, and even pecked 
 audaciously at his already battered features. 
 
 At this point Bate succumbed to a breathless spasm 
 of mirth. Softly he let himself down to earth and 
 rolled over and over with the glee of his emotions, and 
 silently he rolled himself to a safe ground of vantage 
 where he could rise and slink away, leaving Mary as 
 sole occupant of the proscenium box. 
 
 Mary indeed remained fascinated at the crack ; 
 for the play was not yet done. In the snatch of a 
 breath Rob was up again, and now the ham began to 
 receive a mellowing that would stand by it all its re- 
 maining days, to the frying-pan. Though both cause 
 and environment were comical, Rob's face and figure 
 grew actually heroic, as, yielding now not one inch of 
 ground, sending his antagonist thudding back, meet- 
 ing its rebound, rebound after rebound, with the un- 
 erring stroke of his fists, swallowing heedlessly his own 
 pain and weariness until the trick was wholly his, he
 
 128 POWER LOT 
 
 felt that the just Powers of the air acknowledged him 
 master of the ring. 
 
 "There, sir," said he, stepping away as with a bow 
 from the dying palpitations of his enemy, " I'll give 
 you some more to-morrow, old man. You're a good 
 fighter. Ha! ha! Shake hands. Good-by, till we 
 meet again." 
 
 During this adieu Mary had recovered herself and 
 discreetly fled to the house. 
 
 The pugilist, very slick as to his hair, and scrupu- 
 lously clean as to his swollen hands, joined the family 
 at supper. Mary conversed cheerfully with him, a cer- 
 tain animation in her manner as though life, instead 
 of demanding her steady forbearance and patronage, 
 had accorded her a little genuine interest and zest on 
 its own account. Bate thought she was covertly mak- 
 ing fun of Rob, and was well satisfied. Rob himself 
 connected her, in his thoughts, with a foreign woman 
 of quality who had once dawned as an honored guest 
 upon his family in the days of his childhood. That 
 woman's dark eyes had both thrilled and chilled him. 
 Women so definably and strikingly handsome are sel- 
 dom met with ; there had been that one, and now there 
 was this one, and Mary Stingaree of Power Lot, God 
 Help Us, had by all odds, he reflected, the more aristo- 
 cratic beauty and manner of the two. 
 
 Rob anticipated her every need at table, was suave, 
 eagerly responsive to every bright word or look of 
 hers. 
 
 " He's the rotten fool," thought Bate. 
 
 Mary's manner still in some indefinable way pleased 
 and exhilarated Rob as they rose from the table, and
 
 AS A PUGILIST 129 
 
 she said quietly, the least ripple of a smile on her 
 mouth : 
 
 " Bate tells me, Robert, that you complained about 
 the food." 
 
 " No, not that it's too good for us," Rob cried 
 eagerly; " I made fun, just as you do yourself some- 
 times, but it was no part of a gentleman, living on your 
 place and on Bate's, to talk as I did; I wish I could 
 take it back, and I beg your pardon, Miss Stingaree. 
 I beg your pardon, Bate. I acted like a cad." 
 
 He faced Bate outright, with an honest fullness of 
 apology on his flushed, shamed countenance. 
 
 " Oh, don't try ter squeal out of it that way," Bate 
 replied. " I expect to have my reckonin' with you, yit, 
 Daisy," and he turned his back and skulked away as 
 usual. 
 
 Mary had, somehow, anticipated or expected the 
 apology on Rob's part, and had hoped to mend matters 
 between the two; but Mary could never anticipate 
 what Bate would say or do. He was a constant surprise 
 to her ; and she blushed now even more shamefully 
 than Rob. 
 
 " Do not mind him," she said. " He does not mean 
 that." 
 
 But her bosom heaved, her nostrils grew thin, and 
 an ominous dark streak showed in the crimson of her 
 cheeks. 
 
 " There are three tempers in this house," thought 
 Rob ; " mine, and Bate's, and Mary Stingaree's." 
 
 " I don't mind," he said. " I deserved a cut. Well, 
 good-night, if you'll excuse me, Miss Stingaree. I I 
 get so tired I can't hold my head up,"
 
 130 POWER LOT 
 
 She flashed a smile at him more than kind; it was 
 grateful and it had faith in him. She passed into the 
 next room to her mother. Rob stood a moment and 
 a strange idea dawned upon him. Mary seemed still 
 to stand before him, but the brilliance and force of 
 her, which usually confused him when in her presence, 
 had changed now to only that womanly heaving of the 
 breast. It was not the proud face or the disconcerting 
 eyes that he saw, but the brown shirt-waist, rising and 
 falling with those sweet womanly signals of emotion. 
 That neat brown working-waist of Mary's had a heart 
 under it. 
 
 Good heavens, what a heart it might be! What 
 would a caress mean from such a woman from her? 
 Rob caught his breath. It could not be; but his very 
 soul followed her through the door behind which she had 
 disappeared. Oh, to dream of it to put his head down 
 upon that heaving breast as worthy to give and to 
 receive comfort. He shook. It could not be. But 
 and here it was that poor Rob's lonely and longing 
 soul conceived an idea he could wash the dishes for 
 her. 
 
 He knew that before she brought out her mother's 
 supper tray she always sat for a while with her, talk- 
 ing confidentially and low, soothing and comforting 
 her. The table was not cleared, the dishes, of course, 
 not washed. He had often heard Mary at this task, 
 when his own comfortable head was sinking off into 
 its first delicious slumber of the night. 
 
 Now, forthwith, he crept about the room, noiseless 
 as a cat and deft as one inspired ; he cleared the table, 
 washed the dishes and set them away, spread the old 

 
 AS A PUGILIST 131 
 
 red table-cover that converted the kitchen into a sit- 
 ting-room, replaced the evening lamp, omitting no 
 detail, and was in his own room upstairs before Mary 
 appeared on the scene. 
 
 " Virginia ! " he heard her calling with a swelling 
 heart of friendship and gratitude from the house door ; 
 " Virginia ! " 
 
 Then Rob knew that Mary had concluded at once 
 that it was Mrs. By jo who had crept slyly in and done 
 her this favor. 
 
 " Come in, Virginia," called the now laughing and 
 urgent voice. 
 
 " She won't come, Miss Stingaree," muttered Rob 
 in the silence of his heart. " I don't believe she's any- 
 where about. Oh, the deuce ! " he added to himself ; 
 " I kind o' wanted her to know I did it. 'Twould 'a' 
 been fun. But she'll never know; she'll lay it to By jo, 
 and forget it. I get work enough to do, all right; 
 but somehow I miss all the bouquets. Well, never mind 
 she didn't have to do 'em, anyway; and probably 
 she'd been mad at me if she'd known who it was." 
 
 Rob did not read in his room ; his business there was 
 emphatically sleeping ; insomnia had become the vague 
 reminiscence of some fever in a past world. If he could 
 keep awake until he turned respectably into bed he 
 was only too happy. Magazines and novels he cared 
 little for ; and the daily newspapers he could not have. 
 Occasionally he flapped the Bible open, to light, per- 
 chance, upon some startling expression, and also be- 
 c.-iuse he was very lonely and it was connected with the 
 tender sentimental era of black velvet and golden curls 
 and pony whip.
 
 132 POWER LOT 
 
 His eyes full of the sticks of swift oncoming slum- 
 ber, he flapped it open to-night. 
 
 " If after the manner of men I have fought with 
 beasts at Ephesus " 
 
 Rob rend no farther; it was a grand phrase, and 
 he clung to it. Some old Bible fellow evidently had 
 put himself in training for a fighter, and this was 
 the fine way he told about it afterwards, casually, 
 without brag or fuss. " If after the manner of men 
 I have fought with beasts " 
 
 A good, cool fighter he must have been. 
 
 Rob had got up above a complete absorption in the 
 eating, drinking, and reveling phase of existence, to 
 a realization of a stout desire to make a fight. What 
 to fight, and what to fight for, were buoyantly hazy 
 in his calculations. The fellow in the Bible, of course, 
 had fought for religion ; he could not do that, but all 
 the same he meant to make a superb showing and a 
 tremendous slaughter among the " beasts at Ephesus."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 AN EGG FOR A STAMP 
 
 ALAS for the tawny-haired hero of the ring! With 
 the morning light the thrill of the combat and the 
 glory of the amphitheater had dwindled down to a 
 smarting consciousness of a bruised body; down to 
 a sordid summons to arise and toil, conveyed through 
 the cackling of geese and the bleating of calves ; down, 
 in fact, to ax and saw, and spade and hoe, and other 
 things that are but dull accompaniments to the picture 
 of an aspiring champion. 
 
 Mary was afraid to embitter Bate, and do Rob actual 
 harm in consequence, by engaging in any lively tone 
 of pleasantry or showing even a frankly natural po- 
 liteness to their guest; so the same studied courtesy 
 as usual prevailed between her and Rob at the break- 
 fast table. 
 
 "Did Mrs. By jo I mean, Stafford call last even- 
 ing? " Rob inquired cursorily, with great lightness and 
 cheerfulness of manner. 
 
 " Yes," Mary laughed ; " she came in a mysterious 
 way the dishes to perform. When I came out from 
 Mother's room everything had been done for me; and 
 it is not the first time," she added, "that Virginia 
 has done me so kind a turn." 
 
 " She's a brick," said Rob heartily. 
 
 Bate sniffed. The world seemed ever to be. drawing 
 
 133
 
 134 TOWER LOT 
 
 upon the well of Marah within him, and he, most 
 uncannily, seemed always to know what was going on 
 in all the small affairs of life. 
 
 " Byjo never done your dishes last night," he de- 
 clared. 
 
 " Who, then ? " said Mary, regarding him hopefully ; 
 " did you, Bate? " 
 
 "Me? No." 
 
 "Well, then who?" 
 
 " The prize-fighter, thar' ; and I wouldn't thank 
 him for his imperdence, either." 
 
 Mary blushed. Rob reveled in her look ; but at that 
 point he lost her. He did not follow her purpose to 
 shield and save him, but saw only the cool and quiet 
 smile which hovered about her lips. 
 
 " Ah, now I understand," she said, " though it must 
 seem ungrateful, the great rim of grease left around 
 the inside of the dishpan." 
 
 Bate cast so sharp and triumphant a glance of warn- 
 ing at him that Rob almost felt in washing the dishes, 
 though he could still vividly recall the impulses of 
 hopeless love and holy kindness which had abounded 
 in him at the time, that he had given serious ground 
 for offense. There are rites of conduct for human 
 observation in Power Lot, as elsewhere, and possibly 
 he had arrogated to himself too much of the privilege 
 of the domestic and familiar. Anyway, Bate had ex- 
 posed him, and brought contempt upon him ; and now 
 he did not leave the table as usual, but sat regarding 
 Mary and Rob in an insultingly watchful manner. 
 
 Rob excused himself, and sighed deeply as he stepped 
 outside the door. His clothes on the line! Alas, for
 
 AN EGG FOR A STAMP 135 
 
 the strain and rigor of immortal combat it had fallen 
 to this; Rob must take down his own clothes. And, 
 that Bate, watching from some source, would devour 
 with delight this savory morsel of his discomfiture, he 
 felt sure. 
 
 Rob filled his pipe he had only one drawing of 
 molasses-and-ginger tobacco left, by the way saun- 
 tered up with his hands in his pockets, and attacked 
 the line. But how white they were! Water and the 
 stern drubbing of the board, and the winds of ad- 
 versity which had blown all night upon them, had made 
 them how wondrous sweet. Rob condescended to take 
 a little pride in them at last, in his own heart ; outwardly 
 his ears were suffused with blushes as he folded them on 
 the grass preparatory to carrying them in and packing 
 them away. 
 
 Hereafter, a flannel shirt or two, with a few ad- 
 juncts by way of handkerchiefs and stockings, would 
 represent his labors at the washtub and his soldiery 
 of the line. 
 
 He wanted very much to have a little interview with 
 Mary; in the first place for the sake of the painful 
 and pleasurable excitement of being near her, and in 
 the second place because his finances had reached an 
 ebb as witness the one pipe-drawing of tobacco re- 
 maining to him where it was imperatively necessary 
 for him to propound a frank business proposition to 
 her. Just as he was making his return passage through 
 the kitchen having put away his linen, Bate suddenly 
 appeared with an affected preoccupation of haste and 
 began fumbling among the bric-a-brac on the kitchen 
 shelf in search of something, no one knew what.
 
 136 POWER LOT 
 
 Rob, disregarding his presence, stood in the center 
 of the floor, and spoke with dignity and self-possession : 
 
 " Miss Stingaree, do you mind my getting you a mess 
 of clams, instead of your hiring Joey Belcher to do it? " 
 
 " Why, of course not, Robert ; but don't you need 
 the time for your own work? " 
 
 " I will explain," said Robert, the flower of his 
 courtliest drawing-room grace shining full upon him ; 
 " I have written to New York for funds, but Captain 
 James Turbine's boat is not yet in with the mails, and 
 my present financial condition, to tell you the truth, 
 Miss Stingaree, is one of absolute penury; in fact, if 
 penury means anything like penny, I haven't even that. 
 I vow to you it would give me the proudest pleasure 
 to dig the clams for you for nothing ; and if you will 
 permit me to have that pleasure I will regard the 
 ten cents, which you usually pay Joey Belcher for 
 digging a peck, as only a temporary loan, and shall 
 feel grateful and very honored to reimburse you when 
 I receive my funds." 
 
 Bate, from an expression of dumb wonderment, 
 chuckled, as he renewed his frantic pawing over the 
 kitchen shelf. 
 
 " He's out o' tobackker." 
 
 Between the two of them Mary was hard put to it 
 to keep her countenance. She knew that no funds would 
 be forthcoming to Rob from New York ; it was in the 
 strict letter of the physician's bond that Rob should 
 be brought face to face with the utter realities of life, 
 and either prove his crass weakness or struggle up and 
 stand on his own feet, morally erect. 
 
 It seemed hard to her. He was so good-natured. It
 
 AN EGG FOR A STAMP 137 
 
 had touched her in a way that he did not dream of 
 his washing the dishes for her. Bate made her friendly 
 relations with her big ward more difficult still through 
 his insane jealousy and moodiness. But Rob's present 
 elegance of manner cast a glamour over all things, made 
 them appear hopeful, even joyful. It was not so sure 
 but that, in some sense, in place of her bewitching him 
 he was bewitching her, her life-training had been so 
 practical and severe, and he was, at present at least, 
 even with his appeal for money, the very soul of chival- 
 rous romance. 
 
 Mary could not help smiling when he brought his 
 request to a peroration. 
 
 " Very well," she answered ; " we will not consider it 
 as a loan, but I shall be very glad to pay you ten cents 
 if you will dig some clams." 
 
 Rob bowed. He had devoutly hoped that she would 
 understand and offer payment in advance; then he 
 could stop at the River on his way back from the flats 
 and purchase some tobacco ; it would save him another 
 long trip up and down the hill. To do Mary justice, 
 she did not fully diagnose his predicament. He said 
 nothing more. Ceaseless physical exertion was becom- 
 ing second nature to him, and he had observed that 
 the strange mechanism of his body, after a few mo- 
 ments of quiet, if strenuously put to labor and plenti- 
 fully bedewed with sweat, limbered up again to the 
 tune of untiring action. Occasionally he reflected in 
 blank astonishment on his health and vigor, and still 
 the latent purpose of his untrained pleasure-loving 
 nature was to go rollicking back to New York as soon 
 as opportunity offered, and expend his accrued treas-
 
 188 POWER LOT 
 
 ures of deep-breathing lungs and toughening muscles, 
 in having a tremendously, a superlatively, " good 
 time." 
 
 And now he took up clam-rake and basket, descended 
 by the steep road, which was shorter and had ceased, 
 some time ago, to thrill him with affright; walked 
 sturdily to the flats, dug up the clams, tramped back and 
 delivered his spoils to Mary, and received his ten cents. 
 Mrs. By jo was with her, and hilariously, with an air 
 of good fellowship, as he retreated threw several bad 
 clams after him as a reminder to be more particular 
 in future in his selection of those bivalves. 
 
 So homesick for company was Rob, it seemed nice 
 even to have things thrown at him, and at a safe 
 distance, he tossed a loud, though expressly tender, kiss 
 back at Virginia, and proceeded cheerfully on his way 
 down the hill again. 
 
 At the River store he purchased his usual ten-cent 
 plug of tobacco and filled his pipe, standing outside 
 in the center of activity created by a confused street 
 scene consisting of one yoke of oxen and two men, 
 and yes, that was Cuby coming. Cuby knew the 
 proprieties and the tenets of choice society ; she did 
 not look at Rob as she stepped lightly past, her head 
 well up, and her look communicating with the far edge 
 of the horizon. 
 
 Rob flattered himself with the happy thought that 
 she expected him to follow. There at least, he felt, 
 as he watched her trim, smart figure disappearing, was 
 something tangibly human to get hold of, and he was 
 lonely beyond utterance for genial companionship. 
 
 " You do loaf," she suddenly admonished him with
 
 AN EGG FOR A STAMP 139 
 
 motherly displeasure, when his footsteps pounded too 
 plainly at her side to be ignored any longer. " You 
 work not, you make to loaf by the store." 
 
 " Now see here, Cuby, I don't loaf. It just hap- 
 pened. I haven't stopped to breathe before in a dog's 
 age." 
 
 Rob puffed at his pipe choicely, cautiously; even 
 this despised quality of the weed had grown to be of 
 precious savor to him. 
 
 "Just look," he continued, "at what I've been through 
 with to get a plug of this nasty tobacco. Twice up 
 and down that eternal hill to earn ten cents for such 
 a luxury as this. Me I that they used to call * the 
 Hilton heir ' at home. Say, this is a great world, Cuby, 
 and has got lots of entertaining stuff in it. I mean 
 to make other folks laugh out of the wrong sides of 
 their mouth, sometime. Ha ! ha ! Ho ! ho ! " 
 
 Do his best, Rob could not muster up a malicious 
 laugh. It might have been the wealth of ozone in the 
 atmosphere, but his wild cachinnation had a distinctly 
 joyous tone. 
 
 " My father says," replied Cuby significantly, " I 
 shall never marry any man w'at is lezzy." 
 
 " Quite right. For that very reason you'd be mighty 
 lucky if you could catch me. I'm the goods, all right. 
 Sweat ! Don't say a word. All the arrears on my 
 board bill paid up! Square with the world! The 
 Stingaree potatoes are ahead of mine, so I put in extra 
 time at the usual wages, helping hoe them. I haven't 
 ironed yet, but I've done a big washing. Sawin' wood, 
 choppin' wood, diggin', hoein', clammin' and, say, 
 I've laid Bate flat."
 
 140 POWER LOT 
 
 This revelation was unwise, and it had occurred to 
 Rob as only a remarkable item among his various toils. 
 
 Cuby's manner changed. 
 
 " No. You have lick* Bate? You have? " she cried 
 eagerly. 
 
 Rob expanded with the momentum of her excitement 
 and asserted furthermore with reckless high-minded- 
 ness: 
 
 "Ask Miss Stingaree; ask Captain By jo she saw 
 him on the ground, and me over him telling him to beg 
 for mercy." 
 
 " Oh, Rob ! " Cuby sighed an ecstatic long breath 
 and put a hand on his shoulder, and her brown eyes 
 looked into his. 
 
 Rob was electrified, and he felt of a size that matched, 
 not unfavorably, with the surrounding mountains. 
 Ozone is as treacherous as whisky to the blood of any 
 gay reveler who has not learned how to hold himself 
 in hand. 
 
 " If it is hones' an' true that you have lick' Bate," 
 said Cuby solemnly, " then they shall not any more 
 call you * Daisy,' no. And my father, he will show 
 you to box with the gloves. He has it well learn'. He 
 shall make a laugh at them, an* show you." 
 
 " Will he? " cried Rob, his hands twitching to begin 
 lessons. 
 
 " Sure. Yes. But, Rober', you make yourself fool- 
 ish to work so har-r-rd for so little of pay. Why do 
 you not meTc them that is rich off you, send you the 
 money? Why not? " 
 
 "That is just where your dear little head is level, 
 my sweet girl. But don't you see they've got me in
 
 AN EGG FOR A STAMP 141 
 
 a trap. I couldn't buy a foot of standing room, even 
 on one of those old rotten wood-packets ; and they're 
 so connivin' mean together and I believe Cap'n Jim 
 Turbine's at the bottom of it they wouldn't sell me 
 a berth, even if I had the money. Besides, they never 
 sail, anyway, and the vessels that do come in sneak 
 in and out like thieves. Don't you see where I am? 
 I'm going to put it in the geography : What is Robert 
 Hilton? (Answer) He's a poor cuss surrounded by 
 water." 
 
 Cuby laughed. There was no question but that Rob 
 was growing witty as well as valiant. She laughed so 
 admiringly that Rob, reflecting a bit on his own bril- 
 liancy, followed suit: 
 
 "Ho! ho! Ha! ha!" 
 
 " Yes. Me I remember," gurgled Cuby through 
 her merriment ; " I mek study of the geography at the 
 Baptis' school. But now there is come a new par-r-rt 
 to it: * What is Rober' Hilton? ' The pupils make to 
 answer : ' He is one poor cuss all surround' with water.' 
 Yes." 
 
 Then her face grew very serious. 
 
 " You shall not go away. My father will kill you 
 if you go away. You make promise to me we are en- 
 gage' to each other. If you go away though I said 
 not much that I love you, they make such a laugh at 
 me you shall take me with you. That is sure. Yes. 
 No, you shall not go. But write them the letters. See? 
 Make the big thr-r-reat at them. Scar-r-re them." 
 
 The asperity of Cuby's lovely glowing face was 
 enough to send fits of dismay through any corporate 
 body of malefactors.
 
 142 POWER LOT 
 
 Rob's heart sank a bit at the information that he 
 was indissolubly bound to Cuby; not but that she 
 was perfectly entrancing, but the marriage tie seemed 
 a knotty problem altogether out of his province at 
 present. With an embarrassed laugh he relegated it 
 to either the dark forward or backward abysms of time, 
 just wherever it might happen to light, making only 
 the mental reservation that he would be rather more 
 careful hereafter in his attitude toward the smart, tem- 
 pestuous little maiden at his side. 
 
 "Letters, Cuby," he declared gravely; "why, I've 
 written letters enough, but I never get any answer. I 
 know this about Captain Jim Turbine mean as he is, 
 he's honest. He would bring my letters over from 
 Waldeck if any came. No, they won't answer me; 
 however, I've got a missive here in my pocket that I've 
 been carrying about with me, that I'm going to send 
 first boat. I reckon it '11 make 'em sit up. It's a hair- 
 raiser." 
 
 So prominently did this intention now absorb Rob's 
 mind, he sought me out as soon as his stroll with Cuby 
 was over. 
 
 " When are you going to give me a sail over to 
 Waldeck, Captain Turbine? " he inquired, his broad 
 smile indicating that he would esteem it over every 
 earthly privilege to become my bosom friend. 
 
 There are some people you yearn over. They may 
 be vain or silly, or worse; but there's some quality 
 about them makes you yearn over them. So my old fool 
 of a heart yearned over that sad boy ; but I was under 
 rules along with Mary and the doctor. 
 
 "Well, that's kind o' difficult to say, Mr. Hilton,"
 
 AN EGG FOR A STAMP 143 
 
 I answered ; " wind and tide, and all that, have so 
 much to do with it, you know." 
 
 " Wind and tide don't faze you. I wish you'd call 
 me * Rob,' Captain. Why, now, I wonder, won't you 
 sail me over, Jim? Are you afraid I won't pay you? " 
 
 " No, oh no, Rob ; but I sail under quick orders 
 when I do go." 
 
 " ' Orders, why, you own your own vessel and are 
 master of it." 
 
 " Well," I had to smile, " I make strict orders on 
 myself, all the same. I'm awful careful, Rob, to obey 
 my own orders." 
 
 "Pshaw. You can do what you like." 
 
 " Maybe, then, it's because I'm so old and rough and 
 used to it, but I like it better to be under orders." 
 
 " You lose all the fun," said Rob, a little impatiently. 
 
 " Not a bit. I've been through seas, and sheered off 
 rocks, that 'ud call a circus tame, and put a picnic 
 nowhere." 
 
 " Oh, I know you're a fast sailor, Jim ; and, say," he 
 added, in a confidential tone, wheedling sweetly, " you 
 are not old, you're hardly in your prime. Now look here, 
 Captain, you sail some of the other boys over, now and 
 then why won't you take me? I'd lay around shore 
 waiting to take my chances. I'd lay around all night 
 and all day, and a week, if I could get the chance to go 
 when you do sail." He was wide awake on his subject; 
 he had infused a wild pathetic tremor into his voice. 
 It was hard ; it was harder on me than on him. 
 
 " Well," said I, turning my head away, " when the 
 right time comes that I can take ye, I'll let ye know, 
 Rob."
 
 144 POWER LOT 
 
 " Thanks," he sighed heavily, walked away a rod or 
 so, then returned with a great air of having been 
 reminded of something: 
 
 " By the way this letter, Captain ; do you mind 
 posting it for me, the next time you sail over? " 
 
 I knew the letter would not make any difference with 
 the way he was being treated by that old doctor in New 
 York, and I knew that no money would be sent to him 
 right away to leave Power Lot, God Help Us. I had 
 not the least objections to taking the letter, and I 
 longed to do it without a word more. There was no 
 postage stamp on it. It seemed an infinitesimal small 
 thing, and worse for Rob's nature to think people could 
 be so mean. But rules are rules, and especially promises 
 even as to a penny are promises. Poor Mary had 
 been bound to it sacredly, " even a penny " having been 
 mentioned in particular, and I ought to be up to her 
 endurance; besides, my promise had been made through 
 her. That settled it. It should stand. So I steeled 
 myself up to the business. 
 
 " Where's the little picture of some imperial sovereign 
 or other, that belongs in the corner of it? " I said. 
 
 What a look those blue eyes gave me. I think he saw 
 through me, and I think he pitied me and believed in me, 
 though he did not know what for nor why. 
 
 He dived into his pockets with an artificially off-hand 
 and impetuous manner. 
 
 "Thunder," said he, "I've left all my change at 
 home." 
 
 I had become absorbed, apparently, in some tinkering 
 I was doing on my boat, and to confirm my mental 
 ness from the dilemma in hand I had begun to whistle.
 
 AN EGG FOR A STAMP 145 
 
 " Look here, Jim," he grinned, " I've been ass enough 
 to leave all my change up at the house." 
 
 His air of bravado was transparent ; my manner of 
 indifference was as loudly transparent. I made no reply. 
 
 " Good Lord," he blurted out, " if I had a hundred 
 dollars right here, I'd give it to you, Jim, for the 
 asking." 
 
 " I know you would, Rob," said I. " I know that 
 right well." Again his impatient glance changed to a 
 frank and unfathomable pity. 
 
 " Say, old man, money's kind o' scarce around here, 
 ain't it ? Well, I'm going to attend to this little matter, 
 right now." 
 
 He went back up the hill (at a very different gait 
 from that he had exhibited on his first arrival at Power 
 Lot, God Help Us) ; and how he should get the penny 
 for a stamp he did not know, but it seemed incredible to 
 him that Fate should face him out with denial and dis- 
 aster in so small an enterprise. 
 
 Just then he heard the fruitful cackling of a hen, 
 and lo, escape from the clutch of impecuniosity lay open 
 before him, though it led through the clandestine and 
 abhorrent paths of theft. Rob darted in at the rear 
 door of the shed, and looked over into the hen's nest 
 nearest at hand. 
 
 There lay four eggs in an enticing cluster, and, at 
 present prices, one of them would buy a stamp. Into 
 Rob's pocket went an egg, and down he came to me, hold- 
 ing out letter and egg, his mouth as wide abeam with 
 laughter as though Sin had not claimed him for her own. 
 
 " I swiped it, Jim, 'pon my honor. Say, Lord Harry 
 look where I've got I've stolen an egg."
 
 146 POWER LOT 
 
 The look of it, indeed. A man of his majesty of size 
 and classic beauty of feature shaking that purloined 
 egg in wicked and hilarious triumph before my very 
 eyes. I laughed till my sides ached. His moral restitu- 
 tion would not be reached through me. I had failed, 
 myself, in this bout with the ordained ethics of the law ; 
 the ludicrous side of the thing had done me up. 
 
 " Now, will you post my letter ? " 
 
 " Sure. Hand her over. I'm not sure but I'll make 
 a special trip." 
 
 " Oh, say take me along." 
 
 " Likely. Sailing over to Waldeck with a henroost 
 thief. Not much." But the tears of helpless laughter 
 still swam in my eyes. 
 
 " Go alone, then, you old weepin'-willow, and be hung 
 to you," said Rob ; but there was honest love as well as 
 wild gayety in his tone. A joke has, sometimes, a sort 
 of strange saving power over folks. 
 
 He lifted his hat ceremoniously from the crisp hand- 
 some waves of his hair : 
 
 " Good-day, Captain Turbine. By God," he turned 
 on me once more, warningly, and his eyes flashed, " I'll 
 sail with you yet, Jim." 
 
 My cap went off. " Good-day, Brother Bob, and it 
 will be a glad day for me when you sail with me."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE PASSAGE THROUGH 
 
 ROB, in his mad haste, had not discovered that Miss 
 Stingaree was sitting, slightly shadowed by a pile of 
 material objects, in a corner of the shed, peeling rhu- 
 barb, when he thrust his predatory hand into the hen's 
 nest. 
 
 As he returned this third time from the shore, suck- 
 ing parsimoniously at his pipe, Mary saw him through 
 the house windows ; tall, erect, brown, so that the wav- 
 ing fair hair, growing tawnier every day through 
 exposure to the wind and sun, looked stirringly pic- 
 turesque beside the deepening tan of his countenance 
 as she saw this goodly spectacle, and then reflected on the 
 stolen hen's egg, her heart revolted that so comely an 
 exterior should contain a soul of such mean dimensions. 
 
 Rob unconsciously mended his case at once, as, seeing 
 her within, he entered hat in hand frankly smiling: 
 
 " Miss Stingaree, you harbor a thief a petty thief. 
 I abstracted an egg from old ' Ginger's ' nest and 
 applied it to my own private necessities." 
 
 She smiled back at him with a happy revulsion of 
 feeling, and her rare laugh encircled him with a sense of 
 bliss. 
 
 " Were you hungry, Robert ? Where did you go to 
 boil it?" 
 
 " Oh, it wasn't quite so groveling as that, Miss Stin- 
 147
 
 148 POWER LOT 
 
 garee. I gave it to Captain Turbine to be converted 
 into a postage stamp. Ho ! ho ! Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " So you still want to get away from us? " she said, 
 and her lip drew a little as if with mortification and 
 pain. " I cannot blame you, but I hoped you would not 
 mind it to stay awhile." 
 
 What he had written in his letter, of the sordid and 
 poverty-stricken conditions of Power Lot, of disrepu- 
 table Bate, of outlandish Mrs. By jo, even of Mary's 
 coldness and pride (instead of lauding her hard-work- 
 ing, faithful performance of duty) and the disagree- 
 able way in which he had written it it all surged back 
 upon him now, as if he had lifted his hand to strike the 
 beautiful woman before him a cruel and brutal blow. 
 
 "Well," blushed Rob, "I feel that I'm an awful 
 burden, don't you know, that's a fact; and I feel 
 besides that there is tremendously urgent business of 
 my own back in the States, that I ought to attend to." 
 
 As Mary looked at him this statement did not seem 
 farcical, as it certainly would have appeared when he 
 first arrived at Power Lot. His powers of recuperation 
 seemed nothing less than inspired; and she made up 
 her mind that she would herself write, recommending 
 his release from her low roof and mean fare and from 
 Bate. 
 
 " Perhaps you ought to go," she said. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Stingaree, will you write and advise them ? 
 It's scandalous, their keeping me here." 
 
 " Yes, I will write." 
 
 " It isn't because I want to leave you," said Bob ; 
 " but but perhaps it would be wisest on that account, 
 too. For I I think you're grand, you know ; and I
 
 THE PASSAGE THROUGH 149 
 
 might get to liking you more more " he did not look 
 at her " more than you would wish to have me like 
 you." 
 
 " Your affections are so broadly scattered about, 
 Robert," said Mary quietly and kindly, " that I should 
 feel very sorry if I did not come in for some share of 
 them." 
 
 " You mean Cuby Tee-bo," he blurted out. " A man 
 can't live without any society, and she's an amusing 
 little girl, that's all." 
 
 Mary flashed a look at him; it was evident that her 
 liking for him was limited and under strict control. 
 
 " I've never been a saint, you know," Bob defended 
 himself. " I'd try to be I'd try for anything, if you'd 
 stand by me and encourage me." 
 
 " If you mean that you would like to have me respect 
 you," she replied, " honestly, I should not be able to do 
 that until you could stand by yourself." 
 
 "Don't you think that's kind o' lonesome?" said 
 Rob, pale, and gazing afar through the window. 
 
 " Try it, and see," she answered. Rob thought her 
 tone implied that there might be unguessed spiritual 
 rewards in the stalwart attitude she had recommended ; 
 but the prospect was hazy to him, and especially unat- 
 tractive. His face was dreary. 
 
 " Well, I must go to work," he sighed. " One thing," 
 he added, in a hopeful and un resentful tone, " when I 
 get hold of a few pennies again, I'll hug 'em up and 
 kiss 'em a while, an' get kind o' used to the looks of 'em, 
 before I spend 'em that's sure. I never sailed so close 
 to the wind before, and it's awful." 
 
 His mouth trembled a little, but not weakly. He
 
 150 POWER LOT 
 
 looked Mary straight in the face without appeal or 
 reproach ; only with a sort of resigned adoration. 
 
 " Well," he repeated sadly, " I must be off to work." 
 
 "Mrs. Stafford says she would be very glad to hire 
 you to assist some with her hoeing. You could put in 
 a little time there, perhaps, before your own potatoes are 
 ready." 
 
 " If I help Bate four hours this afternoon, I shall be 
 two days ahead on my board, shan't I, Miss Stingaree? " 
 
 " Yes." Mary was secretly delighted, the question 
 showed such close mental application and correct figur- 
 ing on Rob's part. 
 
 " Then, to-morrow morning," he went on, " I can get 
 another lap ahead on my board, and in the afternoon 
 I'll help Captain Byjo I mean Mrs. Stafford; and she 
 will pay me the same you do? only she will pay me in 
 cash, of course? " 
 
 " You can depend upon her to do so." 
 
 " Miss Stingaree," said Bob ingratiatingly, with a 
 little catch in his throat, " I'm a * hired man ' ; that's 
 the size of it." 
 
 " You can make it any size you like," observed Mary. 
 She hesitated a moment, then added distinctly, " I do 
 not know of anyone with greater opportunities, for you 
 have not only the power to build a strong character now, 
 but to do it in spite of, and over, an unfortunate past, 
 which is harder, and greater; and if you remained a 
 * hired man ' through the whole business, that would not 
 make any difference." 
 
 Rob again asserted simply that the world looked 
 rather lonely ; again he withdrew his sad gaze, and 
 remarked in a stupefied sort of way without rancor:
 
 THE PASSAGE THROUGH 151 
 
 " When I've earned the penny that I owe you for 
 old Ginger's egg, of course I will pay it back to 
 you." 
 
 " Well," said Mary. Her smile drew him ; he found 
 himself looking straight into her eyes again, and, in 
 spite of the smile, or through it, they seemed to him 
 to be very grave and kind and beautiful. " I do not 
 think," she said, " that I am at heart petty or stingy. I 
 think if you would believe that you would not be mis- 
 taken." 
 
 " Lord, I know it," cried Rob. " You do, for love's 
 sake and charity's sake, what / would never do. And 
 old Jim Captain Turbine, I mean he's got some fad 
 or other for acting mean and stingy. You're both play- 
 ing at it, but I guess I know. Don't you ever think but 
 what I do." 
 
 " Captain Turbine," assented Mary, " is a Don 
 Quixote." 
 
 "No," cried Rob, "he's a real knight, marked 
 genuine all but the trimmings, helmet, shield and mail. 
 He doesn't wear any mail, and, confound him, he doesn't 
 bring me any mail. Ho, ho ! Ha, ha ! " 
 
 Mary acknowledged the brilliance of his jest with a 
 gay laugh of her own. 
 
 Just then Mrs. Stingaree's cane rapped sharply from 
 her bedside to the floor in the closed bedroom. 
 
 " Everybody has left me," called the old woman ; and 
 immediately her tortured sense of endurance gave way 
 to the shrill tones that were beginning to dominate the 
 diseased brain. " Come in here, somebody. Come and 
 sit with me," she called raspingly. " That Robert 
 Hilton said he would come but he never came."
 
 152 POWER LOT 
 
 Mary started instantly for the door. Rob saw every- 
 where about the signs of the unfinished housework which 
 he had interrupted, and a pang of shame went to his 
 soul, that he had never fulfilled his promise to sit some- 
 times with the afflicted woman. 
 
 " Let me go." He advanced to Mary eagerly. " She 
 asked for me. Let me go in and sit with her." 
 
 He knocked at the door. " It is Robert Hilton," he 
 announced in his clear voice. " I am coming in to sit 
 with you a while, if you will allow me." 
 
 That hearty, singularly glad voice seemed to delight 
 and soothe the old woman. 
 
 " Come in, dear," she said ; " they all neglect me, they 
 all desert me." 
 
 " You know Miss Stingaree has such a lot to do, to 
 get meals for us fellows, and all ; for my part, I feel 
 ashamed to have her work so for me," said the cheerfully 
 confidential Rob, taking a chair at her bedside. 
 
 " Mary is a good girl a good girl," said the old 
 woman, beginning to weep ; " but my head tears me 
 here it comes again." 
 
 Rob took her hand in his. There had grown to be 
 an exceedingly firm as well as gentle quality in his 
 once flaccid touch ; and his well-featured, sunny, ingen- 
 uous face added to the general reposefulness of his 
 presence. 
 
 " Smoke your pipe if you want to, Honey," said the 
 old woman. 
 
 " Would you like it better if I did? " Rob asked, will- 
 ing to sacrifice his hoarded tobacco at a lady's command ; 
 though, marvelous to relate, not in the mood for smoking 
 just now.
 
 THE PASSAGE THROUGH 153 
 
 " Yes, I would like it better," she avowed, shrewdly 
 guessing that he would stay longer with her if he had 
 the pipe for solace. Rob drew his old clay pipe from 
 his pocket, ostentatiously managed that her hand should 
 accidentally touch it for assurance, and put it between 
 his teeth, but he had not lit it. Faithfully again he 
 took her outstretched hand in his. She gazed with her 
 sightless eyes at his clear-cut quiet face ; he gazed out of 
 the open window. 
 
 Beyond, there lay the many waters, and the " Gut," 
 through which swept in the profound tides from the 
 Bay of Fundy. In another direction lay the river and 
 its hamlet surrounded by its dramatic steeps. Rob, 
 though prisoned in a limited and temporary sense, 
 felt the throb of all human possibilities in his veins. 
 Some time some time soon, in his young life, he should 
 " make out," beyond the Basin, beyond the Bay, and into 
 the cities and the ways of men again. But this poor 
 palsied creature whose hand he held, for her there was 
 only one more journey that brief one, from her bed to 
 those white stones down on the hillside. 
 
 The sublime view, which had so uncomfortably im- 
 pressed Rob at first (not but that he had traveled in 
 his time and glanced, between puffs of his cigarette, at 
 highly recommended scenery before the luxuries of 
 New York City had become his confirmed and exclusive 
 habit) the sublimity of the view was becoming rather a 
 friendly object to him. 
 
 He faced it almost always now, instead of turning 
 his back upon it. Some of the sunsets even lured him to 
 stand and look off as absorbedly as if at a theater. Now 
 and then the panoply of nature was so startling and
 
 154 POWER LOT 
 
 so gorgeous he actually forgot to close his admiring 
 and astonished mouth as he stood gazing. 
 
 " What ye gappin' at? " Bate, passing with the milk 
 pail, had inquired contemptuously on one such occasion. 
 
 There glowed in the west such a riot of color, of 
 fiery horses of the sun, of purple-rimmed cloud chariots, 
 traveling along a highway all golden-paved, over there 
 and all in plain sight of miserable Power Lot, God 
 Help Us. 
 
 " ' What am I gaping at '? " said Rob, half turning 
 his head, in his matter-of-fact way. " Say, just look 
 off yonder, Bate what do you think of that? " 
 
 " Middle o' June, and a January wind to the nor'- 
 west'ard," growled Bate ; " freeze our crops to-night, 
 and we'll have to plant all over ag'in too late that's 
 what I think." 
 
 Rob's jaw had dropped. 
 
 Bate jeered. 
 
 " Does that business over thar' look so purty to ye, 
 now?" 
 
 " Why, yes," said Rob, though a look of anxiety and 
 disappointment had settled on his face. " I can't dis- 
 count anything on the grandeur of * that business over 
 there.' " 
 
 But now as he sat by poor Mrs. Stingaree's bed 
 he was thinking of the possibilities of a bright future 
 for himself after all, as set against her brief fateful 
 journey to the gravestones on the hillside. 
 
 Then he thought of Mary. In her speech she was 
 always letting drop things that made a man think; he 
 had sat spell-bound, once, down at the River, on the 
 back seat of the Baptist meetinghouse, where she had
 
 THE PASSAGE THROUGH 155 
 
 elected simply to hand in her " testimony " with the 
 rest. She believed in God, actually, this sensible, keen 
 woman ; believed in Him with her whole soul, practically 
 and forthrightly. 
 
 And she believed that the journey from the bed to 
 the white stones on the hillside was not the end of all. 
 She seemed to regard it as a minor affair, and unrelated 
 to the soul, which had great enterprises on hand. Her 
 conception of existence and the grandeur of being were 
 as vast as the universe she beheld; leading beyond the 
 " Gut," as it were the strait of death, into infinite 
 bays of achievement and to undreamed-of shores of 
 peace. 
 
 These thoughts were confusing, dizzying, to Rob, 
 as once the physical landscape now spread before his 
 eyes had been. 
 
 He fell asleep in his chair. Mrs. Stingaree, holding 
 his hand, had fallen into a sleep as childlike. In his 
 sleep Rob saw the sick woman rise from her bed and 
 start off on her journey, out into the wind and sunshine ; 
 and the apple blossoms fell upon her. But she did not 
 stop at the tombstones. She seemed not to see them. 
 She went on and on and very clearly he saw her. She 
 crossed the nearer waters that seemed neither to touch 
 nor dismay her, and wonderfully she entered the mighty 
 tide surging in through the " Gut " ; yet was she not 
 troubled or overwhelmed by it, but waved her hand to 
 him from afar, smiling. 
 
 Bate looked in at the door and saw his mother, quietly 
 asleep, her withered hand held fast in Rob's ; and Rob, 
 asleep, with his head on his breast, his old clay pipe 
 clasped in the other roughened hand. Bate's face
 
 156 POWER LOT 
 
 showed only a stupid wonder, but he closed the door 
 softly as he crept away. 
 
 Mary came later, and as she glanced at her mother's 
 face a sharp look crossed her own. She pressed forward 
 and put her lips to her mother's forehead. It was cold. 
 There was no awakening. 
 
 " It has reached her heart ! She has gone. Mother 
 mother, dear ! " She took the lifeless form in her 
 arms. 
 
 Rob slept almost as soundly as the dead. 
 
 " Robert," cried Mary, " she has gone ! " 
 
 " Why, yes yes, Mary" said the bewildered Rob, 
 rubbing his eyes, " I saw her go." And his languid 
 head drooped again to slumber. 
 
 " Robert, the disease has reached her heart so sud- 
 denly, and stilled it. She has gone ! Mother ! " 
 
 " Why, yes," said Rob, still stupidly. " I saw her 
 go." 
 
 " What do you mean? Mother is dead! " 
 
 Rob, his blue eyes vacuous to earth and still enamored 
 of his living dream, pointed down the way of the apple 
 blossoms, and beyond, to the swelling tide. " She went 
 over that way, honor bright. I saw her. The tide 
 did not seem rough to her. She did not mind the 
 passage through." 
 
 Rob came to his senses. He saw only Mary's eyes, 
 the tears on her white cheeks. She regarded him 
 strangely for a moment; then she spoke, quietly, with 
 quivering lips: 
 
 " I am glad that you saw her when she went, Robert. 
 I am glad that the tide did not seem rough to her 
 that she did not mind the passage through."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 ANOTHER HILL 
 
 ROB told it over to small interested groups in Power 
 Lot, afterward. 
 
 " Strange that she should go so nice just as I 
 sat down with her, or, rather soon as we got to sleep. 
 I was tired as a dog. I slept like doom. But I saw 
 her go. Just the time she died, too. Honor bright, 
 saw her just as plain as I see you." 
 
 Rob assented entirely, in a matter-of-fact way, to 
 the proposition that he " had dreamed." But his in- 
 tellectual processes were not complex, and there was in 
 him an incipient idealism, buried in the past sensual 
 submergence of his existence, which now shot up a lit- 
 tle bud of promise able to stand by itself, and as literal, 
 to his sense, as the common daylight. 
 
 Always, to his own consciousness, in his first thought 
 of Mrs. Stingaree's passing, he believed that he had 
 seen her go; and it was a demonstration of Mary's 
 faith in such matters. Mary was a marvelous woman 
 a conviction that grew within him more and more as, 
 with the time she had for normal sleep since her moth- 
 er's death, and the time, too, to improve herself and her 
 surroundings, the old barracks in which they lived 
 began to wear an atmosphere attractive and even piti- 
 fully elegant. 
 
 Rob, with an added awe of manner, exchanged his 
 boots for his slippers at the house door. Bending 
 157
 
 158 POWER LOT 
 
 over on the doorstep on one occasion unlacing his 
 boots his face red with the sacred urgency of his 
 cause Bate, who frequently marched in mud-shod, 
 accosted him: 
 
 " Doin' that 'cause ye're afraid o' a woman's tongue, 
 Daisy?" 
 
 " No, Smartweed," retorted Rob, " I'm doing it be- 
 cause I'm a gentleman." 
 
 " Then, if you're one, I don't never want to be one," 
 said Bate, with such deep emphasis that the remark 
 stuck, and in due time Rob fell a-thinking. 
 
 How much was known of his past history he had 
 never asked. To be sure, he had come to Power Lot, 
 God Help Us, drunk and sodden. To be sure, he was 
 compromised, in Cuby's sense of the term, by certain 
 light and reckless professions of love made to her; 
 but that was within the bounds of gentlemanly conduct, 
 he considered. To be sure, his heart was turning to 
 Mary with love and adoration combined. No one knew 
 it, he believed. The growing realization was a joy and 
 an inspiration to his own consciousness ; it flattered his 
 faint moral sense. To love such a woman surely indi- 
 cated the man of honor. And, some time, he might win 
 her? that trembling hope shed its far-reaching glow 
 over his sordid labors his secret. 
 
 But the divining instincts of humanity are keen. 
 Bate knew, and bitterly advised Cuby Tee-bo to have an 
 eye on her lover. And Mary knew, to her sorrow. 
 This personal equation was what she determined, par- 
 ticularly, to eliminate from the problem. Rob's mount- 
 ing blushes when near her, his avid eagerness to antici- 
 pate a! 1 her small wishes, and the blue eyes falling be-
 
 ANOTHER HILL 159 
 
 fore hers ; these things touched her with shame and 
 indignation. She addressed him seldom, and more 
 shortly, her eyes meeting his frankly with a confirmed 
 indifference and only so much the more poor Rob 
 adored her. 
 
 Then, one morning as he was hoeing his own pota- 
 toes very early, Gar' Tee-bo made a detour across the 
 fields on his way to the woods, and accosted him over 
 the fence. 
 
 " I weesh you come down and make play our gemm 
 wiz the gloves again. You too tarn stupeed." He 
 smiled fatherly on Rob, with a pleasant duplicity. 
 " Say, you come to-night ; we make play our leetle 
 gemm togezzer, eh? " 
 
 "Yes, I will come," said Rob. 
 
 He went that evening. The wiry Frenchman gave 
 him so clear an insight into some new features of the 
 " gemm " that Rob, sitting on the kitchen floor with 
 his back against the wall, trying to collect his scat- 
 tered breath, felt that he could have dispensed with 
 such telling proficiency on the part of the doughty 
 Frenchman. 
 
 But Cuby laughed. 
 
 " You naughty man, to make hurt my pretty Daisy," 
 she said. 
 
 Rob was up in a twinkling, springing at Tee-bo with 
 savage fury. 
 
 Gar' met him. " You t'ink you spill me lak you spill 
 tarn fool, Bet' Sting'ree, eh? You t'ink you fall over 
 an' sqush me, eh? Fedder-Bed you, take dat." 
 
 But Rob, whom excessive passion seemed to imbue 
 with skill, caught the Frenchman's trick, and Gar* went
 
 160 POWER LOT 
 
 over as the result of a stinging blow in turn ; and Cuby, 
 whose hope was secretly with her lover, rushed in be- 
 tween them. 
 
 " Do you quit, father. Rob, he play' fair. Let 
 him alone. Quit you both. Hear to me." 
 
 The combatants after surveying each other like two 
 panting dogs submitted to be led to chairs, each by the 
 hand of Cuby. She, with sparkling eyes, innocent 
 enough in her simple jealousy and folly, by all means 
 to win back her lover, produced a jug of rum and 
 shook it gladsomely in the faces of the two. 
 
 "Where you t'ink I got heem, eh? " said Gar', tak- 
 ing the jug and now beaming cordially on Rob. 
 
 Rob saw a vision of green worlds of exceeding bright- 
 ness and heights of exceeding valor fleeting past him 
 out of his reach ; and in their place was a miserable, low 
 room and a dirty deal-table, and on that table had been 
 placed a jug of rum. 
 
 "Where you t'ink I got heem, eh?" repeated the 
 Frenchman, pointing at the jug. " I tell you how I 
 got heem. No I nevaire tell you. You rifform. You 
 keep str'et. You rifform an' marry my Cuby an' keep 
 yourself stiddy. I don' want no tarn lezzy d'unkard 
 'roun' here. But, to-night, eh? because you play 
 good gemm, tarn good gemm you get yourself treat, 
 frien'ly togezzer, eh?" 
 
 Gar' filled a glass and handed it to Rob with beam- 
 ing confidence, and Cuby's questioning, delighted eyes 
 were on him too. He drank it, eagerly, and received 
 another. 
 
 Now poor little Cuby's benighted work was all cut 
 out for her, by herself and her less intelligent father.
 
 ANOTHER HILL 161 
 
 While Rob sat up, hilarious and extremely voluble, on 
 the house-bench, Gar', who had not imbibed so freely, 
 went out and sought the local justice of the peace for 
 the purpose of having Rob and Cuby married. 
 
 But the same smuggled invoice of rum, a jug of 
 which adorned Gar's table, had laid low the justice of 
 the peace ; and his wife, with a cheerful and exculpating 
 wink, pointed him out, lying half dressed on his bed, de- 
 voting himself to the business of snoring with a vigor 
 which precluded the possibility of his adapting himself 
 to any other pursuit. 
 
 Captain Belcher, however, though elated, was in so 
 active a case as to be willing to stick at nothing not 
 even the hitherto unattempted performance on his part 
 of uniting two people in marriage. With great im- 
 pressiveness of manner he now conducted this rite, 
 kissed the bride with effusion, and gave Rob a jocose 
 congratulatory push, which, with another glass from 
 the jug, confirmed the latter in the intention which he 
 had been for some time cherishing of disposing himself 
 on the floor for a season of undiverted slumber. This 
 cherished desire he now put into execution. It was 
 morning when he opened his heavy eyelids. 
 
 Ah, those hills of conquest, those fair fields of achieve- 
 ment, which had gone fleeting past him in his vision, 
 past him, out of sight. He lay on Gar' Tee-bo's floor, 
 and through the open door he saw the gully of the river 
 at low tide. The flats lay cavernous and bare. Despair 
 swept over him; he wished no single thing except that 
 he were dead. 
 
 Cuby rose equal to the occasion. She was up early, 
 fresh as the morn, resplendent in a starched pink frock.
 
 162 POWER LOT 
 
 Steaming hot coffee awaited Rob and her father, and a 
 pan of fried trout besides some muffins made by her 
 own skillful little hands. 
 
 " See what a stupid old man I have," she cried, gayly 
 cuffing Rob on the ear ; " he make me ashem', lak we 
 was married to a funeral." 
 
 " ' Married ' ! " exclaimed Rob dully, from his end of 
 the breakfast table. 
 
 Gar* laughed boisterously: 
 
 " He forgit how he mek you to marry heem, Cuby. 
 He have such tarn good time to that weddeen-party, he 
 forgit all what he done. Ha, ha ! " 
 
 Rob looked at Cuby. She nodded her pretty head at 
 him in confirmation, her bright eyes tender and at the 
 same time challenging him to show a becoming joy. 
 The glory of beauty and of health was upon her, and 
 Rob was again for the time being mentally and physi- 
 cally a waste. He put his hands up to his head and 
 groaned, very simply. 
 
 "I have been a fool a fool! Oh, why did I 
 touch it?" 
 
 Neither Cuby nor her father seemed to resent 
 this unflattering attitude and speech. They applied 
 kindly and soothing words. They affirmed it as their 
 desire that Cuby should remain at present with her 
 father to keep his house; while Rob should continue 
 living at the Stingarees* for convenience to his farm. 
 Later, he might come into the interrupted wealth that 
 was rumored still to be his ; or, at least, when his po- 
 tato crop was sold in the Fall they might rent a 
 barracks of their own. 
 
 Gar' even knew of several desirable places of this
 
 ANOTHER HILL 163 
 
 sort, and indicated their direction through the window 
 with his dirty forefinger. Rob's soul went sick. 
 
 " I want to be on the hill," he said fretfully ; " there 
 are places enough up there." 
 
 " You use' to that hill, you lak' that hill," replied 
 the Frenchman genially ; " you git use' to the River, 
 you lak' the River see?" 
 
 "No," cried Rob belligerently. "I teil you I'm 
 going to live on the hill." 
 
 " Why, of course," said Cuby soothingly ; " me I 
 wan* to live on the hill, too. We shall live where we 
 make to please ourselves, Father." But there was a 
 little spark of malice in her eye; it was so evident that 
 her presence did not make hills and vales a matter of 
 indifference to Rob. She had caught her handsome 
 man, and lost him she, the beauty of the River, to 
 whom Rob had made in times past such valorous pro- 
 testations of love. It was incomprehensible. Somber, 
 dark " old Mary Stingaree " had bewitched him. But 
 she and her father had outwitted Mary Stingaree, and 
 she could win Rob back ; anyway, she had him fast, she 
 could afford to be forbearing and patient. 
 
 " See, Father," she exclaimed laughingly ; " my old 
 man is so stiddy already he weeshes to make up on 
 the hill to work so we shall buy ourselves a home. I 
 knew he was one good man, or I should not marry to him 
 no." Her teeth shone merrily, and the deep rose 
 glowed in her cheeks. 
 
 Rob smiled faint appreciation, perforce wintry 
 sunshine on the pallid remorse of his features. 
 
 " Sure. He is one good stiddy man," said the French- 
 man. " He shall have leetle jest a leetle for ze long
 
 164 POWER LOT 
 
 stip hill, eh? " And he produced the jug, which had 
 been replenished through some dark and mysterious 
 avenue of supply. 
 
 " Come, son," he began. 
 
 A frenzy of repugnance seized Rob. The familiar 
 mode of address, the sight of the vehicle whose con- 
 tents had wrought his ruin as the Frenchman held it 
 out, his low, grimy features condescendingly leering, 
 caused Rob to snatch the jug and hurl it through the 
 open door, out over the ledges, crashing on the bare 
 rocks of the river bed below. 
 
 "D n the stuff!" he cried. "D n the infernal 
 stuff, forever and forever, amen. So help me God! 
 Now I'm going to get out of here." 
 
 " You t'rowed heem too fur to smell heem, son son," 
 repeated Tee-bo hatefully, trembling with anger. But 
 he did not attack Rob, whose fury he had learned to 
 dread. The pupil had proven powerful as well as apt, 
 and had the natural advantage of being twice the size 
 of his antagonist. 
 
 Cuby clapped her hands. " He is gran', Father. 
 See you how good he is. A girl lak' me knows how to 
 be glad that her husban' is rifform'. Me I think it 
 is good good." 
 
 " Vair' good. He is rifform'," muttered the French- 
 man dryly, going out to harness his team for a day of 
 log-hauling. 
 
 Cuby lifted her bright face for Rob to kiss. " Good- 
 by," she said, but added no endearing epithet. 
 
 " Good-by, little girl," said Rob manfully. 
 
 Words pressed to Cuby's lips, but she did not utter 
 them.
 
 ANOTHER HILL 165 
 
 " I shall be awfully busy to-day, Cuby," said Rob. 
 " I am to work some for Mrs. By jo, too. But I shall 
 come down to-morrow to see you, if I have the strength 
 to drag down." 
 
 Cuby's brown eyes darkened with loving tenderness, 
 the soul-sick Rob feared. But she spoke lightly. 
 
 " All a-right, Rober'. You shall not come if you are 
 tired. To come down the hill is easy, but to climb back 
 that is hard; is it not so? " 
 
 " Yes, that's the hard part," said Rob grimly, utter 
 woe in his eyes. 
 
 Out of sight, he drew a long breath, and lifting his 
 hat, let the wind blow through his hair. 
 
 " If I'd kept my head, I was getting on all right with 
 Mary," he moaned, slowly. " She did not want me 
 to love her, but I was getting clean in her eyes, and I 
 might, in time oh, God ! But listen " he ground his 
 teeth at the fir trees " for I swear it by the Almighty, 
 living or dying, hope or no hope, I'll never touch that 
 stuff again; not if they get on their knees to me; not 
 if I die wanting it and so I swear." 
 
 He clenched his fists and jaws with the reviving 
 obstinacy of some ancestor whose own will had been 
 his law, who having chosen some path, casting all 
 vain desire aside, would die but would not yield his 
 purpose. 
 
 He saw Bate, over in the field, though not at work. 
 He was sitting on the fence, thoughtfully turning his 
 regard from the crows near at hand to the flocks of 
 sea gulls in the distance. The fact that he was not at 
 work, and something in his general aspect, sent home 
 to Rob the thought that it was Sunday. In the tumultu-
 
 166 POWER LOT 
 
 ous experiences of the past twelve hours he had for- 
 gotten. Cuby, who semi-occasionally dressed beyond 
 all the rural brightness of the River girls, and sat fear- 
 lessly on one of the back seats of the Baptist church 
 Cuby had forgotten, too. As for Gar', he frequently 
 sneaked off with his team when business was good to 
 make a haul of wood on Sunday. The first thought that 
 came to Rob was that he was glad he had forgotten, and 
 had made his escape from the River. 
 
 Drearily, punctiliously, he took off his boots at the 
 door. " I'll tell her myself," he groaned, and entered 
 hat in hand, and with eyes that had lost the fire of mortal 
 hope. But the news had already flown from the River 
 to Power Lot that Rob had lain drunk all night at Gar* 
 Tee-bo's and, in the midst of the orgy, had been married 
 to Cuby. 
 
 The general exhilaration incident to so full a flow 
 of liquid delignt among the revelers at the River caused 
 these reports to vary in particulars. That Rob had 
 drunk freely and had married Cuby, none disputed. 
 Captain Belcher, having been informed by the fastidious 
 master of the cruiser which had anchored overnight 
 alongshore, that he had made himself criminally liable 
 by his adventure as a welder of wedlock bonds, took a 
 fancy to credit the statement, and now disowned the 
 deed as proudly and blusteringly as he had, in fact, 
 committed it, referring the act to its proper perpe- 
 trator, the Justice of the Peace: he, jealous of his office, 
 and knowing his own frailties, though somewhat wonder- 
 ing, consented that he was indeed the man. 
 
 Wherefore, for Captain Belcher had a stout influ- 
 ence, the Justice of the Peace version was at present
 
 ANOTHER HILL 167 
 
 prevailing, and in most instances honestly believed, 
 and it was this that had come to Mary's ears. 
 
 She was sitting in the room which had been her 
 mother's. The bed had been removed and the place 
 very neatly transformed into a sitting-room, and Mary, 
 her morning work done, was there reading. 
 
 Rob knocked. Mary came to the door and opened it. 
 She did not invite him to sit down; she awaited what 
 he had to say. 
 
 " I guess you know? " he murmured. His look was 
 the most desolate she had ever seen in all her life; his 
 lips were shriveled and cracked. 
 
 " Yes, I know," she answered. 
 
 " They put that hellish drink before me," he went 
 on : " the girl herself offered it ' 
 
 " Oh, don't go on," said Mary wearily ; " there is 
 no one to blame but yourself." 
 
 Rob gasped. 
 
 " We cannot fence you 'round with a special environ- 
 ment and with perfect conditions," she said. " The 
 world is full of pitfalls and temptations ; if you cannot 
 avoid and resist them, what is the use? I do not see 
 any help for it." 
 
 " So you think there is not any help for me, now? " 
 
 " What do you think? In such a case as this, Robert 
 Hilton, I believe I would think for myself, and right 
 strongly." 
 
 " I could buy her off, if I had the money that is 
 rightfully mine." 
 
 " I do not understand you." 
 
 " I said that I could buy Cuby off." 
 
 "I wish," said Mary for she thought that Rob
 
 168 POWER LOT 
 
 was more deeply implicated than he actually was, and 
 so she had no mercy " I wish that Virginia would come 
 in with her oxwhip." Tears of rage and disgust filled 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Miss Stingaree, I have never wronged Cuby." Rob 
 faced her with stern dignity and royal faith at last. 
 " They got me drunk. I swear to you, I remember 
 nothing of the marriage ceremony. I slept, drunk, all 
 night on the floor." 
 
 " You had promised to marry her." 
 
 " I I thought she took it in fun. I meant it in fun 
 that is, of course, not seriously. How could 7 marry, 
 on nothing, off here? " 
 
 " Evidently she took it seriously ; and you promised 
 her, and you have married her. A promise and its 
 fulfillment. I see no way but to make the best of it." 
 
 Rob looked away out of the window; his haggard 
 face and quivering, parched lips were pitiful to see. 
 
 " Sit down," said Mary, as she returned to her seat 
 by the table, resting her head on her arm ; her own face 
 was sorrowful. 
 
 Rob sat down, weakly, as though no health or 
 strength remained in him. 
 
 " Well, I'm done for," he said. " It's all over, and 
 I'm done for ; and I've lost your respect now, forever." 
 
 " No, oh no," she answered quietly ; " you have never 
 yet won it very fully." She, whose tone was usually 
 electric with meaning and decision, spoke now so com- 
 passionately, so fearful of wounding him, he cried from 
 the very depths. 
 
 " You never could respect me, now." 
 
 " That means," she sighed, " you haven't the courage
 
 ANOTHER HILL 169 
 
 to get up after a fall, to win out, to climb up, to gain 
 your own self-respect first of all. I wondered if you 
 would have the courage. I knew you had consider- 
 able courage; I wondered if you would have such 
 courage." 
 
 Rob sat a while, silent, his head in his hands, and his 
 ruminations seemed to bring him no exaltation. 
 
 " The road looks devilish steep," he said at last, 
 grinding his teeth, and looking up with only remorse 
 and bitterness on his face. 
 
 Mary did not answer. 
 
 " I can't live with her," he continued angrily. " I 
 don't love her, really and she doesn't honestly and 
 truly care for me. She I've always seen it she 
 bridles and blushes with all her soul when Captain Jim 
 Turbine comes in sight. But she thinks, she and her 
 father, that I may have money some time. Cuby thinks 
 I may be able to take her to gay cities and all that sort 
 of thing, some time. Anyway, I can't go down there, 
 down to the River, to live I can't do it." 
 
 "Do they ask it?" 
 
 " N-no ; Gar' said better live up here till I'd earned 
 enough to buy a home. It's a great inspiration, isn't it, 
 to work for to work as I've got to work? " 
 
 He lifted his dry, haggard eyes, stolid with despair, 
 to Mary. 
 
 It seemed to him that her manner toward him had 
 never been so considerate, so almost confidential, as now 
 now that he had lost her. Her voice ran on at last, 
 so kindly: 
 
 " The steepest hills are sometimes climbed, not 
 through ' inspiration,' but only with pain, persistence
 
 170 POWER LOT 
 
 and pain. It doesn't make any difference, does it, so 
 long as we get to the top? There might be a view up 
 there that would almost make one forget the pain. I 
 do not know but it might be. I believe I would trust 
 to it. I believe with all my soul it would prove true." 
 
 In such a tone, a mother, free of all passion save the 
 heavenly, might speak to a crushed and bleeding child. 
 It was tragic, to Rob; but, still, it was sweet; any 
 tenderness from her was unutterably sweet. And if, 
 like a child, he might have put his head down on her 
 breast, just that once, just for one moment, and felt 
 her hand on his forehead, he believed that he could go 
 forward, marry Cuby, raise his family, hoe potatoes, 
 to the last earthly sunset, and then knock with square 
 shoulders for admittance at the gates of heaven as a 
 faithful husbandman and householder. 
 
 That memory was not to be his. Her dark eyes pitied 
 his weakness, but her tried heart turned from him with 
 a weary sigh. 
 
 He went to his own room, sank on the bed, and slept 
 with the heavy reaction of one, who, from a vista of 
 majestic battles and bays of victory, suddenly turns 
 to find that he has nothing to live for. 
 
 He did not hear the call to dinner. 
 
 " At it ag'in, up in his room, I s'pose," said Bate to 
 Mary ; " brought a bottle home with him, prob'ly." 
 
 Mary did not know; but her heart gave a bound of 
 relief in spite of herself, when Rob came down in the 
 early evening scrupulously dressed for " Sunday," 
 penitent and resigned, his eyes slightly dazed at the new, 
 hard future which faced him with the stupendous mush- 
 room growth of a single night.
 
 ANOTHER HILL 171 
 
 " Goin' down to take yer wife to meetin' ? " Bate in- 
 quired, in a tone of unusual jocularity. 
 
 " Yes," said Rob, and it would have been hard to pick 
 a fight with him. 
 
 In his heart of hearts he was going down to the 
 Baptist meeting-house to hear Mary sing. It was the 
 monthly Sunday evening " song service," and Mary 
 affiliated herself with the River so far as to go down to 
 sing with and for them on these occasions, just as in 
 old times. " Special request " for solos poured in upon 
 her at these times, and she complied, meekly, religiously. 
 It was about the only time one ever saw her meek. 
 When she shone, and her voice thrilled you and sent 
 light into the souls of the spiritually dim of vision, then 
 it was that she was meek ; and it was worth going to see 
 and hear. 
 
 Rob went in to the meeting, in the face of the gaping 
 villagers, with Cuby showily hanging on to his arm. 
 Verily, Rob's high heart was safe broken. 
 
 " Say, what was your maiden name afore ye got 
 married, Daisy? " he heard an envious youth taunt him 
 from among the group which besieged the door. Rob's 
 polished, clean-shaven face did not change, any more 
 than as if he had not heard the insult ; it did not touch 
 him. Nothing mattered much. It mattered to Cuby. 
 She sprang deftly aside and dealt that wicked one a 
 ringing box on the ear with the palm of her pretty 
 hand. 
 
 " Mind you your business," she admonished him, with 
 finality. Cuby was immensely admired and respected 
 among the River boys, and he of the aggressive speech 
 melted on the instant into abashed retreat.
 
 172 POWER LOT 
 
 Mary sat with the " choir " on the rude platform, 
 and sang with them, entirely patient of the nasal or 
 strident voices which accompanied hers. Rob thought 
 her voice, as compared with the others, like a white- 
 winged boat sailing a clear, straight path through a 
 choppy sea. He waited until the drastic office of the 
 general hubbub should cease, and he should hear her 
 voice alone. 
 
 " Miss Stingaree is * specially requested,' to know 
 ef she will sing * Peace, be still,' " announced officially 
 the salubrious tones of Captain Belcher. 
 
 Miss Stingaree sang, and the Galilean storm, perturb- 
 ing in some way or other every poor human soul there 
 present, fell ahushed and wondering at her voice: 
 
 " Peace, be still: peace, be still.' " 
 
 Rob listened with downcast head. He could not look 
 at her he dared not, so full was his heart. 
 
 " Come een, Meester Heelton," said Gar', more re- 
 spectfully at the door whither Rob had escorted Cuby ; 
 "come een, have leetle 'musement, eh? Sure, that ees 
 tarn good way ; " and he winked suggestively of a re- 
 cruited jug. 
 
 " No," said Rob, " I must be up yonder ready for 
 my work in the morning." He turned suddenly to 
 Cuby. " I will work for our home with all my might, 
 little girl," he said. 
 
 Cuby nodded assent, but she was distinctly weary of 
 Rob. His easy smiles, his ready laughter with its 
 complement of glittering, white teeth, the accustomed 
 swagger of his gait, all these amiable qualities seemed 
 to have left him, as if some mysterious wand of Fate
 
 ANOTHER HILL 173 
 
 had touched and changed him in an hour into the form 
 of withering eld. 
 
 " You act funnee," she adjured him. " You act 
 lak' you was walkin' 'round in you' sleep, lak' you was 
 in your baid asleep." She tried the effect of her own 
 merry laugh. 
 
 Rob smiled wanly ; but it seemed to him, as he climbed 
 the hill, that her words were not inapt. To his own 
 soul, he seemed to be walking in his sleep.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE FIGHT WITH BEASTS 
 
 THE slow Leevya Potter had sailed off at last with her 
 cargo of wood. In the faithful processes of time she 
 returned, like the proverbial bad penny, to her native 
 shore the signal for a gala night among the rum- 
 loving of the River. 
 
 Both Cuby and her father counted upon this as a 
 means of rallying Rob once more. The vain girl, 
 ignorant and impetuous as she was innocent, instead of 
 congratulating herself on his sustained habit of temper- 
 ance and condoning his moods of sorrowful dignity, 
 was alert with suspicion; and for very pride's sake, in 
 the face of her small world, would rather have him 
 fallen, and her own. 
 
 The " Hill " was all too plainly the haven where he 
 would be. He worked doggedly and unfalteringly; his 
 calls at the River grew fewer and more brief. Then, 
 after the slow sidling in of the Leevya, Bate approached 
 Rob in that ingratiating style which boded only ill to 
 its victim. 
 
 " I was down to the River this mornin'," he said. 
 " Cuby sent up word she wanted to see ye particular." 
 
 Rob went at once. On entering Gar' Tee-bo's door 
 
 he fell at once upon the purpose of his summons, and 
 
 a singular group seated in intense devotion around a 
 
 table on which stood a profusion of bottles, some with 
 
 174
 
 THE FIGHT WITH BEASTS 175 
 
 labels which he recognized as of distinction of quality 
 and well approved in his revels of old. Bate, he ob- 
 served with some surprise, had arrived before him, and 
 was already seated at the table. 
 
 " Take a cheer," cried a convivial voice. " Come on, 
 Bobby, an' have a little o' the hummin' bird. S-s-sh. 
 Ain't this the purtiest mess o' booze ye ever see? A 
 man can't allus be a parson. ' All work an' no play 
 makes Jack ' " 
 
 Rob surveyed the scene and turned white, not with 
 the struggle of self-denial, but with the very demon of 
 anger. He turned on his heel, slammed the door behind 
 him, and walked away. 
 
 Cuby called to him, Gar' shouted after him with an 
 oath, but he tramped on sturdily, and the outline of his 
 shoulders was forbidding. He had become physically 
 a problem which the denizens of the River had no dispo- 
 sition to tackle, and his insolent, broad back was al- 
 lowed to disappear into the dusk, unmolested. 
 
 " Heem no good. Heem tarn fool," said Gar' ma- 
 liciously. 
 
 " Ma'y Sting'ree has made of herself a witch, to him, 
 she has him bewitch'," averred Cuby, in a high passion 
 of mortification and disappointment. 
 
 " Look here, Cuby," said Bate, once an acknowledged 
 suitor for her hand who had been despised for the 
 sake of the fair-haired Rob ; " look here, Ma'y ain't 
 no witch. The' is witches that I know of, but it ain't 
 her." 
 
 He winked at her as he met her eye, with an assump- 
 tion of the old-time license to render her her due of 
 admiration.
 
 176 POWER LOT 
 
 Rob marched on up the hill; and he had now no be- 
 wildered sense of walking in his sleep. His spirit was 
 afire, his soul was resolute. Once he paused in exulta- 
 tion and shook his fist in the direction of the low orgies 
 at the River. 
 
 " You did not trap me, this time, no. You laid some 
 honey for the bear and the bear did not care a d n 
 for it, did he? You baited up your old hooks and the 
 fish swum past 'em without a nibble. You've met your 
 man, now, you devils, and we'll have it out. You'll find 
 what I'm made of. You'll find whether I've forgotten, or 
 can ever forget, by God, the blood the good blood 
 the high blood that runs in my veins you ; why, my 
 grandfather, my father, would have looked at you as all 
 of a mess with the dirt under their feet." 
 
 Rob's nostrils quivered, his head towered high ; he 
 scarcely felt the tedium of the ascent as he turned again 
 to climb. He stood on the summit, looking seaward. 
 The moon had risen, and the holy splendor of the world 
 beat in awesomely upon his consciousness. 
 
 " Say, it's wonderful, just living, up here," he 
 breathed to himself ; " it's it's interesting. Just liv- 
 ing and looking 'round is interesting enough, up here, 
 by Jove." 
 
 The night was by far too glorious to ignore, and 
 the Stingaree house was dark; Mary, calling on some 
 of the neighbors, probably. Rob, high of heart, feared 
 nothing. The sense was upon him that he could march 
 anywhere, even over the brink of a precipice, scathless. 
 
 " There must be a superb view over at ' Spook House ' 
 to-night," he murmured. " I'll go over there and take 
 a peek at it."
 
 THE FIGHT WITH BEASTS 177 
 
 Through ditch and brush and along the edge of 
 ledges he made his way ; for he was unfamiliar with the 
 trail known to the natives, along which only once Cuby 
 had directed his steps when, absorbed in her pretty 
 merriment, he had gone with her to hear the " knock- 
 in's " at Spook House. 
 
 There had dwelt at one time at Power Lot and the 
 River, a purely English element, so far inspired by the 
 religious and aesthetic sense as to rear a little church 
 on the commanding pinnacle toward which Rob was now 
 advancing. That little band of worshipers expa- 
 triate in this strange land had long since ceased to 
 assemble at any earthly summons, though the bell in 
 the old steeple called weirdly for them on certain nights 
 when the wind was high. And there were some who said 
 they did assemble, all in wedding-white, amid the aisles 
 of the crazy old church now called " Spook House " 
 where no other congregation had gathered for many a 
 long year. Only the lovelorn, for lack of any more 
 cheerful or definite entertainment, were accustomed to 
 wander thither through the sentimental shades of even- 
 ing to listen to the " knockings " made by the super- 
 natural visitors within. 
 
 Meanwhile, whatever single item of the wild and 
 tragic had been lacking to the landscape of Power Lot 
 was supplied by this old hulk of an edifice, standing 
 tower-like, wind-beaten and desolate, on its forlorn 
 height, a thrilling reminder of transcendental reverie 
 to all the country round. 
 
 Rob had forgotten about the knockings. The night 
 drew him, and the moonlight, and the awful isolation 
 and grandeur of the site. It was farther than he had
 
 178 POWER LOT 
 
 imagined, but he walked on stoutly, coming up at the 
 rear of the church and intending to make straightway 
 for the front for the sublimity of the sea view. 
 
 But he heard the low murmur of voices, and before 
 the traditions concerning Spook House could pierce 
 his sense with any terror, he distinctly recognized. Mary 
 Stingaree's voice. Amaze and curiosity held him still. 
 Standing on a bank of underbrush, he could look 
 through the yawning windows to those that were also a 
 paneless, yawning gulf on the other side. There, out- 
 side the church, leaning against the rotten windowsill, 
 stood Mary and myself Jim Turbine. Our faces were 
 turned from him, our view was to the sea. A sudden 
 mad jealousy seized Rob, to whom I had been an object 
 quite outside the pale of any serious friendship with a 
 woman like Mary Stingaree. 
 
 " Well," I said to Mary, unaware of my smoulder- 
 ing audience at the rear of the church, " if you wish, 
 I'll go down to the River and see what I can do to 
 get Rob and Bate away from Tee-bo's." 
 
 " They both went down there," she answered. " Vir- 
 ginia told me. She gets all the gossip, voluntarily 
 rendered through Mrs. Treet." 
 
 " At the house I hardly felt inclined to bother with 
 *em," I said ; " but when you look off here, things that 
 did not seem of so much consequence get up and sing 
 inside a man as though they demanded to be heard be- 
 fore other things. That is all the way I can put it. I 
 reckon you understand." 
 
 " My ' brother ' Jim ! I knew that you would go. 
 Did I take an unfair advantage," she added, half smil- 
 ing, " in bringing you here, on the way, to look off
 
 THE FIGHT WITH BEASTS 179 
 
 over sea and land? Shall you go down the footpath of 
 the ledges, Jim? I'll go back home alone, and I shall 
 think of you with more gratitude than I can ever 
 speak every step of the way." 
 
 She was eager to have me gone. I never yet had 
 stumbled by luck on any romantic situation with Mary 
 but that the summons came to me from some quarter or 
 other to go off straightway and risk my neck some- 
 where for the sake of other folks. Still, I made easy 
 of the fatality, being dire used to it. I loitered only 
 a few moments. 
 
 " You can easily manage to get Robert away, I 
 think," she continued rapidly ; " you can easily per- 
 suade him! but Bate, in spite of his degradation, is a 
 man in determination, you know." 
 
 " Rob threw Tee-bo's jug of rum off into the river- 
 bed; so I've heard." 
 
 " Yes, but he was in a pet. There's no * hold-fast ' to 
 him. In another mood, a little hardship or disappoint- 
 ment, and he would drink again like a fish." 
 
 She sighed and turned her face northward where the 
 evening star shone. Rob saw the beautiful profile. I 
 looked, too, wistfully. 
 
 " Mary," I said, " I've offered myself to you many 
 times, I know ; and I am not worthy of you. I do not 
 blame you. But if you could ever look to me a bit, I'd 
 give my life to make you happy." 
 
 " You honor me, I know that," she replied graciously, 
 and with an intensity meant to compensate me for the 
 loss of all, " but forgive me that can never be." 
 
 She rested her hand on my arm, and I upheld her. 
 But I reckoned, though she saw far, there were some
 
 180 POWER LOT 
 
 steep places in the world that poor Rob and I, even, 
 might have a better knowledge of than she. 
 
 " Is there anyone else, Mary? " I said. " I am such 
 an old friend, you might tell me if there is anyone else? " 
 She seemed to regard the question as too meaningless to 
 require an answer; her look seaward was not that of 
 a girl remembering a lover; it was only thoughtful, as 
 though her soul went gravely off that way. 
 
 " I believe poor * Daisy ' loves you with all his heart," 
 I said. 
 
 She came back from her abstraction, and laughed. 
 
 " He is a charming boy, when he is himself, but he is 
 not a man at all, Jim. What ever put such a thought 
 into your head? Rob! why, he does not seem to me to 
 be a man at all." 
 
 Someone slunk away in the shadows. I went my way 
 down the ledges, and Mary went her way along the 
 trail, home. Neither of us saw Rob. Like a stag, 
 vitally shot, proud to die alone, he turned aside where 
 no one would overtake him and sat down weakly upon 
 a stone behind a clump of bushes. 
 
 Moments elapsed before he lifted his head again to 
 the solemn, sentient scene spread wide before him. For 
 his making or his marring, he was alone in the universe, 
 now. Every prop had fallen away from him. The 
 last friend of all and the dearest he had ever known 
 had scorned him. He saw again her sweet profile, he 
 heard her slighting words. 
 
 " He he is not a man at all." 
 
 And earth and air repeated the words about him, not 
 jeeringly, but with an immeasurable sorrow. Rob fell 
 so low that he fell back on elemental reason. Why had
 
 THE FIGHT WITH BEASTS 181 
 
 Mary seemed so far from him? and the hope of winning 
 her always as suspensive and vague as yonder infinitely 
 distant star? He could not " hold fast," he was vain 
 of purpose, weak of will he was " not a man at all." 
 
 The latchkey years came back to him, the nights of 
 carousal, the sodden days, his paralyzing illness, the 
 suicidal, driveling idiocy of it all. And even when health 
 had been restored through sheer force of circumstances 
 and necessity, his riotous will, at the first sight of the 
 tempter, had plunged him unhesitating into the well of 
 his former dissipations. He had made idle love to a 
 girl whom now he longed to cast from him; he had 
 gone whining to Mary Stingaree with his selfish re- 
 grets. He was " not a man at all." 
 
 Rob fell so very low that even resentment, which once 
 would have swept in upon him as a flood, had now no 
 place in his soul. All his newly acquired vigor had 
 oozed from his blood, all courage from his heart. He 
 dreaded to rise. How long he sat there he neither knew 
 nor cared. It was a long vigil. Mary went sadly to 
 her room, leaving the house door open for the return of 
 the wanderers. I went down to the River and found 
 Bate at the evil brew, but not Rob. 
 
 Rob sat crushed and hopeless, alone on the mountain- 
 side; unbearably alone when, at last, he staggered to 
 his feet. It was too much. The soul cannot live alone, 
 and Rob, of sheer necessity, cried out. 
 
 " O God," moaned the poor lad, " are You any- 
 where? " 
 
 He had a simple fancy that only the old Bible, bend- 
 ing itself to those dilemmas of the soul commonly known 
 as " religion," besides being the traditional refuge of
 
 182 POWER LOT 
 
 the sick at heart, could tell him that. He crept up to 
 his room noiselessly, and with one hand weakly support- 
 ing himself by the table, he opened the ancient volume. 
 " If, after the manner of men " there it was, again 
 his text, evidently; God threw it at him, persistently. 
 " If, after the manner of men, I have fought with beasts 
 at Ephesus." 
 
 Beasts? Beasts of intemperance, perhaps; of reck- 
 less riotousness, of selfish passion, of weak, purpose- 
 less will? And fighting them for what? 
 
 Ah, nothing left now for him in all the world of 
 delight and beauty, but just, as a poor skeleton in moral 
 rags, to try to stand up and " be a man." 
 
 Not one bit gloriously, but after the manner of the 
 abject, goaded to his feet in the ring. Not with love 
 and honor and acclaim; but quite forsaken, a beaten 
 soul naked to the scorn of all, even so, unfalteringly 
 now to the death, to stand up and " fight with beasts 
 at Ephesus." 
 
 Rob clenched his fists once more, and lifted to heaven 
 the rekindling fire in his woe-begone eyes. There was 
 still a fight left.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 FRIENDLY 
 
 THE depths of life are not with the suicide, nor with 
 the man whose hair turns gray in a single night; these 
 treat existence with comparatively absurd lightness. 
 The depths are with him who, through the lowness of 
 his fall and the humility of his soul, has caught a sense 
 of the ocean of eternity about him; who has lost his 
 importance to himself, and walks, well entertained and 
 listening, childlike, along the shore. 
 
 Though the rollicking nature reasserted itself in Rob, 
 it was purely ; there were newly channeled depths, over 
 which the sprite sat sunning himself, but the depths 
 were there. 
 
 " Say, Hilton's wriggled clear o* Ma'y's apern- 
 strings," said Bate to Cuby. " He's perlite to her, but 
 he's clean got over his mash." 
 
 "Me / think he is crack' in his haid," admitted 
 Cuby. 
 
 " It's a pity you ever got spliced onto him. You 
 might 'a' done better," Bate reminded her modestly. 
 
 " He is one good stiddy man," rejoined Cuby 
 guardedly. " Scol' an' scol', an' make a sport of him, 
 you can no more make him to be in anger. He only 
 smile, lak you was dirt. He is stiddy, savin' his money, 
 all, to rent the Treet place for me and him to make a 
 home. But he is not as I lak ; he is not to me, any 
 more, amusin', f rien'ly ; he makes himself in loaf with 
 183
 
 184 POWER LOT 
 
 all droll folks, an' the more they be lak people make a 
 laugh at them, the more he loafs them. He is become 
 crack* in his haid." 
 
 " He's been a fool ever sence / first seen him," said 
 Bate. " Well, you're tied to him, so there's no use 
 talkin'." 
 
 " If he goes clean crezzy," said Cuby, " I shall to 
 get quit of him." 
 
 " If you do that, I'll marry ye myself, the way ye 
 ought ter be married, Cuby. Ye done a durn foolish 
 thing." 
 
 " He was not so when I firs' seen him. How is any- 
 body goin' to tell? " 
 
 " You could 'a' depended on me to be the same thing 
 right along." 
 
 " Yes, that is true," said Cuby, with placid and 
 entirely concealed cynicism. 
 
 They both sighed, Cuby in a delightfully equivocal 
 fashion, Bate with an active sentiment of revenge. 
 
 Meanwhile, except with Bate and his ilk, Rob was 
 winning a reputation for engaging sanity of spirit and 
 sterling rudimentary good sense in his faithfulness to 
 duty. 
 
 Old man Trawles, who once had given him a 
 wide berth, stopped familiarly by the fence where Rob 
 was hoeing. 
 
 " Good-morning, sir," remarked the devoted young 
 husbandman, blithely elevating his hat ; for Jacob 
 Trawles was a very old man. 
 
 " Mornin'," responded Jacob listlessly, and fixed 
 upon Rob his brown, melancholy, rather vacant eyes ; 
 " you've seen better days, and so have I."
 
 FRIENDLY 185 
 
 " Yes," said Rob, freely giving to the old man the 
 serious approbation which his speech called for; 
 " I've heard how you used to make money back in the 
 States." 
 
 "Did Car'line tell you?" 
 
 " Others than she have told me," replied Rob. 
 
 Jacob Trawles looked sentimentally pleased; he very 
 rarely smiled. " I am not penniless yet, by any means," 
 he averred. He took off his ancient tall silk hat and 
 stroked it with a seedy black broadcloth sleeve. He 
 was the only one in Power Lot who wore a tall silk hat. 
 
 " * Penniless ! ' I should say not," responded Rob. 
 
 " But I'm wifeless," said old man Trawles, again 
 fixing Rob with his steady gaze. 
 
 " How long has Mrs. Trawles been dead? " 
 
 " I have had two," answered Jacob, his look un- 
 swerving. 
 
 " Three times for luck," blurted out Rob to get a 
 little relief from the delicacy of the situation. " Why 
 don't you try again? " 
 
 Jacob held out his hand. Rob kept on hoeing, but 
 there was no ignoring it; the hand remained out- 
 stretched, so Rob stepped up and took it. 
 
 " I want to," said Jacob. " I want to get married 
 again. You and I are in the same boat. You want 
 to rent Car'line Treet's place, and I want her to let it 
 and come over to my house as my third." 
 
 Rob made a faint effort at withdrawing his hand, 
 but Jacob only clasped it tighter. 
 
 " You've done poorly in marrying, Robert poorly. 
 You've married into the lowest nest anywheres around. 
 My heart aches for you, Robert."
 
 186 POWER LOT 
 
 " Oh, the devil," said Rob. " Cuby's unfortunate in 
 her surroundings, but she is a good girl, and I suppose 
 she is my wife. We'll say no ill of her, sir, if you 
 please." 
 
 " Fire ! Fire ! " murmured the sentimental Trawles ; 
 " you are full of fire. I am naturally fiery myself, but 
 Gid and Nell pester me so, I am losing all my will-power. 
 They are set against my having a third." 
 
 Rob made another cautious attempt to take away his 
 hand, but Jacob Trawles gripped it firmly. 
 
 " Have you ever witnessed the efforts which my grand- 
 children, Gid and Nell, make to detain and obstruct 
 me, when I start out with the intention of making a 
 neighborly call on Car'line Treet?" 
 
 " Yes," said Rob, with extreme sheepishness, and a 
 lurking grin which blushed itself out in good-nature, 
 " I've seen them go after you and lead you back 
 home." 
 
 " And in the Winter, they go off to the distant States, 
 and leave me alone alone." 
 
 Rob, after a last effort to free himself, patiently 
 yielded up his right hand until such time as Jacob 
 Trawles should see fit to release it. 
 
 " Alone," repeated Jacob, his melancholy eyes, un- 
 winking, on Rob's face. 
 
 " Where are Nell and Gid, now? " 
 
 " Wild-strawberrying, Robert, wild-strawberrying, 
 over beyond Joggins." 
 
 " It seems to me you have a chance now, if you wish 
 to make a call." 
 
 " Yes, Robert, yes, I have it in mind ; but we won't 
 be premature, we will wait until they are well under the
 
 FRIENDLY 187 
 
 brow of the hill. Yes, they are a mongrel lot, I fear, 
 them Tee-bos. The Stingarees have good blood; in 
 fact, remarkable. Bate and his father were dissipated, 
 but nevertheless Mary inherits good blood grand. 
 Virginia Stafford inherits good blood, tho' they call 
 her 'Byjo,' grand blood, Robert." 
 
 " You wouldn't want Mrs. By jo for your third, 
 though, would you ? " Rob inquired, lending himself to 
 curiosity, since his fate was to be so hopelessly pinioned 
 by the mild, firm hand of old man Trawles. 
 
 "No. Too much fire too much fire. At my age 
 I want someone I can control. Car'line is easy guided." 
 
 "She comes of good blood, doesn't she?" 
 
 " Only just fair-to-middlin', Robert," sighed Jacob. 
 " But she is fifty, and I don't choose her for pedigree. 
 I choose her for easy guidance of her, and to slicken 
 up my house." 
 
 Jacob released Rob's hand, and walked with slow 
 dignity in the direction of Widow Treet's house. 
 
 The Widow Treet herself had seen him passing, from 
 the window, where she was calling on Mrs. By jo ; and 
 with a lady-like tranquillity of gait she now issued 
 forth, and, in composed view of his retreating form, 
 stopped to talk with Rob. 
 
 "Torment his old pelt," said she gracefully, "I 
 believe he's goin' over to set with me a spell. Ye see, 
 Nell and Gid's gone strawberryin' ; and now I ask you ef 
 old man Trawles ain't takin' the chance to sweel out 
 on his own picnic ? " 
 
 Rob admired Mrs. Treet; so often he had seen her 
 washing dishes or scrubbing floors for charity's sake 
 in anybody's house which trouble or need had visited.
 
 188 POWER LOT 
 
 And aside from that, nature had endowed her with 
 girlish, refined features and hair as glossy as it had 
 been when she was twenty. She wore a boy's cap a sou- 
 venir from an advertising agent, with " Try Old 
 Honesty Soda " largely emblazoned on its visor ; and 
 in other respects she maintained a jauntiness of bear- 
 ing and expression unaffected by the sobriety of middle 
 age, and her tongue was of that tender insidiousness 
 which woos the listening soul. 
 
 " He is going over to sit with you a spell if you're 
 at home," said Rob, with twinkling eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Treet winked back with well-preserved blue eyes 
 of her own. 
 
 " I guess he'll keep till I git there," she drawled. 
 
 Rob laughed explosively. The exhilaration of the 
 air frequently beset him to untimely mirth. 
 
 " Mr. Trawles seems to be a very learned man," 
 he added gravely, besieging a clump of weeds with 
 his hoe. 
 
 " Ya-as, oh, ya-as," with conscious pride went on the 
 sweetly meandering tongue of Caroline Treet. " Ya-as, 
 he's got learnin', an' a vary kind heart, poor old man 
 Trawles has. He never fishes a newspaper out o' any 
 old ruck down to the wharf but what he hikes over to 
 me, soon as ever he gits a chanct, and lays his binockalers 
 athwart his old nose an' reels it off to me tell I go 
 plumb asleep in my chair. Oh, ya-as, sometimes when 
 I'm gappin' like a chicken with the pip jest afore I 
 close my eyes an' go off, I feel what a mercy readin' 
 is to them that has allus escaped it. An' as for writin', 
 I know I haves my times o' bein' lazy we all have ; but 
 I can say truly, I never yet set an' pampered a lazy
 
 FRIENDLY 189 
 
 dispersition long enough to 1'arn to write. Whatever 
 faults they lay to my door, nobody 's ever flung that 
 at me, an' so I tell you frankly." 
 
 Mrs. Treet disposed herself very comfortably on 
 a broken rail, and taking off her soda-advertisement 
 cap she leisurely fanned her fine and serious features 
 therewith. 
 
 " Mr. Trawles is a fine-looking old man," said Rob. 
 
 " Ya-as, oh, ya-as. He got slickened up, times past, 
 when he lived to the States, and it 'ud break his old 
 heart t' have any o' the spruce rubbed off 'n him, the 
 durned old dude," she added affectionately; and con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " But I wish he'd lay off his tormented old plug hat 
 along from the middle o' June to the fifteenth o' August, 
 and I've told him so. Even sech as preach the gospil, 
 I've told him, don't go sweatin' around in a stove-pipe 
 hat in dog days ; ' then why should you ? ' says I, * that 
 never sticks your nose inside a meetin' house, ef you can 
 help it.' I don't suppose there's another livin' soul could 
 'a' brought up that old plug hat to him an' thrun it in 
 his face the way I have." 
 
 " No ; he will take anything from you." 
 
 " Ya-as," said Mrs. Treet, suddenly retiring to a 
 non-committal tone ; " I've allus made it a rule to be 
 frien'ly with all the neighbors. Some has their tiffs 
 and their mads, an' keep it up. But take a widow 
 woman like I be, left all alone, an' two boys, mates o' 
 vessels, an' the youngest blacksmithin' in the States, 
 an' one girl with a milliner to Boston, an' one married 
 down to Kasha Valley ; an' when you think o' fire or be- 
 ing took sudden in the night, you make away with your
 
 190 POWER LOT 
 
 tiffs an' your mads, however much you might like to 
 show 'em out, an' go around to all your neighbors alike, 
 mean or decent, all an' every, without throwin' it up to 
 their faces, skippin' none." 
 
 Fire or sudden death both seemed so foreign to the 
 probable fate of Caroline Treet, Rob questioned within 
 himself the tragic nature of her motives, suspecting that 
 an innocent love of gossip might play a large part 
 in the cheerful atmosphere of amity which she sustained 
 with her neighbors. 
 
 But he liked her. He liked to have her sit on the 
 broken rail and talk to him. 
 
 " Do you think," he said straightforwardly, " that 
 there will be any chance of my renting your place next 
 winter, Mrs. Treet?" 
 
 Mrs. Treet allowed herself to become absorbed in the 
 view about her, perfect placidity resting upon her fea- 
 tures. She was so versatile that even a flowery appre- 
 ciation of nature was but one item in the rounded sphere 
 of her accomplishments. 
 
 " Lookin' out beyant, there, to the Gut is a interestin' 
 thing to them that has artistry in their feelin's," she 
 observed choicely. " Ya-as, oh, ya-as, I go down an' 
 walk along shore sometimes for nothin' on this sinful 
 'arth save an' exceptin' jest only to look at the aspects. 
 Often, as them can tell who's seen me at it, I've set over 
 there in my winder tell nine o'clock at night, watchin' 
 out on the scene. Many's the night I've set in per- 
 ticaler, study in' on the lights beginnin' their night's job 
 over on Digby shore; oh, my, ya-as, an' the tears has 
 come to my eyes as I watched them little fleets o' vessels 
 peltin' in, an' seen the water all as ef she was bedaubed
 
 FRIENDLY 191 
 
 with somebody's spillin' their paint pots onto her when 
 the sun hove out er sight." 
 
 " I've often noticed you looking about as though you 
 loved nature," Rob assured her, with a more than 
 genial smile. 
 
 " Oh my, ya-as ; and sometimes I don't exac'ly know 
 whether I'd ought to go an' bury myself along o* an 
 old man. I'm young myself, an' has young ambitions ; 
 and an old man, potterin' an' hawkin' around the house, 
 though his house is better'n mine, I 'dmit, an' a safe 
 chimbley an' no gap in the shingles, is a trial. Then, 
 ag'in, I thinks how I've had my drill with one man, an' 
 raised my f am'ly ; an', though some would say I should 
 be elevatin' myself, old man Trawles bein' so 'ristocratic, 
 yet, when you consider of it in all lights sech a subject 
 is fit to be considered in, you come to just this, an' 
 nothin' more, * Him who sets low, sets easy,' as the 
 sayin' is." 
 
 " Yes," said Rob, " that is true. Him who sets low, 
 sets easy." He repeated the woman's phrase uncon- 
 sciously as though it were the pink of language and 
 approvedly his own conviction. 
 
 " I'm a-makin' you a hat," said Caroline Treet, and 
 still looked tranquilly off to the aspects, and did not 
 blush. 
 
 " Making me a hat! " exclaimed Rob, leaning, ar- 
 rested, on his hoe handle, his marveling soul in his eyes. 
 
 Caroline dealt out the good news sparsely, in a way 
 to tease rather than appease the awakened appetite. 
 
 " Ya-as, it's a-goin' to be a dressy one, it's goin' to 
 be the efFecks an' similarity of a stove-pipe, an' have 
 all the genteelness of it without no cumbersomeness."
 
 192 POWER LOT 
 
 "What is it made of?" 
 
 " Straw. The recipy has been kept clost in our 
 fam'ly ever sence it first come down. Ya-as, it's made 
 out o' the spick-an'-span o' clean artil'ry straw." 
 
 " You astonish me," gasped Rob. 
 
 " You ain't the first," admitted Caroline, visibly 
 revolving on her tongue the delights of superior em- 
 prise, " that's been knocked all of a heap by it. The 
 first one I ever made, I took an' bestowed it on the 
 minister which we had more settled in them days than 
 we hav now, meetin'-goin' in them days not bein' hit 
 or miss an' choose your own pleasure, but go you must ; 
 an* with religion the same, you wan't asked whether 
 you'd have it, but the dose was giv' to you, an' down 
 it went, an' no questions raised as to likin' it or not 
 likin' it." 
 
 " So you gave one to the minister? " Rob suggested, 
 hanging eagerly upon what might be still to come. 
 
 " Ya-as, oh my, ya-as, the first I ever wove. I hadn't 
 quite got my bearin's, though, and the brim was wider 
 an' the crown run up more to a p'int than what the 
 style is, or ever was; but ef I do say it, an' I sh'd 
 say the same ef I was to be called to-night, the' was 
 mighty few tag-ends to it, for a beginner; an' I'd set 
 myself so clost to the stent, bein' a sperrited girl, besides, 
 I was pretty near wore out with it, an' nothin' but a 
 frazzle myself when I handed it out to him." 
 
 " What did he say ? " inquired Rob simply, his hoe 
 lying forgotten at his side. 
 
 " He'd never had many gifts, Power Lot, God Help 
 Us, bein' a place where the means was not always equal 
 to the dispersitions, an' when I held that hat out to him,
 
 FRIENDLY 193 
 
 he looked as though he couldn't believe a word of it. 
 He swallered an' gapped, an' gapped an' swallered, an' 
 to the livin' day o' my death I'll never forgit what he 
 said." 
 
 "What did he say? " Rob made out to ask, in holy 
 attention. 
 
 " He stammered an' he stuttered. Ef ever I seen 
 a man overcome, I seen one that day. ' How much 
 how much do I owe you?' he says. * It's all paid for,' 
 says I, as namby-pamby as a squab on a nest o' moultin' 
 eggs. * How how paid for? ' says he. Then what 
 did I do, 'stead o' settin' my cap for him, the way some 
 was doin', who, ef the world is to be believed, their looks 
 was no better 'n mine, but I ransacked around in the lit- 
 tle pea-hen of a brain girls has bestowed on 'em at that 
 age, an' anchored up by some drippin's o' religion I'd 
 heard to meet'n', an' says I, as softy as a mess o' sqush 
 in the middle o' a lily pond, ' " Free Grace " has paid 
 for it,' says I. Did you ever? " added Caroline; " may- 
 be that don't make you sick, but it does me." 
 
 Rob stood shaking as with ague, tears of exquisite 
 joy rolling down his cheeks. 
 
 " I don't wonder ye've got a fit," observed Caroline, 
 rapidly fanning her own nauseated features with the 
 emblematic cap on which " Try Old Honesty Soda" 
 made a startling appeal to the needs of the situation. 
 " Some says they sees their lost youth beckonin' of 'em 
 back. Considerin* the pea-hen brains of them years, 
 ef mine beckoned to me I shouldn't go, that's all." 
 She spoke with the simple quietness of resolution, and 
 continued, in gentle strain : 
 
 " I'm a-knittin' you some socks, too. I've seen your
 
 194 POWER LOT 
 
 wash out on the line, and tho' I don't say it to shame 
 ye, yet the truth remains the same, that some things is 
 past mendin'. Boughten hose is nothin 5 but a man 
 cheat, anyway. I've wrought up somethin' that '11 stand 
 by ye, as my man could testify ef he was here instead of 
 havin' lain his earthly garments by. The yarn is * Old 
 Reliable Ironsides ' brand, same I've been a-knittin' on 
 these twenty years, fetched over from Waldeck through 
 Jim, an' bought of old Jo Playmus without no break or 
 disagreement between us all these years that be." 
 
 " I do not wonder that you have friends," said Rob, 
 and though his face was red and his voice trembled, 
 yet the feeling with which he spoke was very real. 
 
 " Ya-as, oh, ya-as," continued Caroline, like a lady, 
 to cover his embarrassment. " Many's the time when Jo 
 Playmus has been over here fishin' an' slung feet along 
 o' me an' my man, under the table. Ef there was an 
 apple, or any other pie stuff to be raised, green or 
 winter-proof, accordin' to the season, I made 'em a pie. 
 Once he giv' me the caution at eleven o'clock him and 
 Jo 'ud be in to dinner at twelve. Don't say a word. 
 I couldn't 'a' ketched my own feet, the way I fired 'em 
 'round. I rigged up that pie and had him in the oven 
 by eight minutes past 'leven, and by forty after I had 
 her out." 
 
 Rob questioned with a puzzled interested face of 
 inquiry, and no guile. 
 
 " What made the pie a male when it went into the 
 oven, and a female when it came out? " 
 
 " I don't know," replied Caroline Treet, with an 
 equally guileless manner of resignment. " God A'mighty 
 fashioned the langwidge o' men, an' I've allus had to
 
 FRIENDLY 195 
 
 take it as I found it. But I'm thankful to say the's 
 so many words in the dictionary layin' around loose, 
 you can pick an' choose without no fear o' gittin' in 
 over your head. Some has hard work to find words, I 
 know ; but as my father used to say, * Langwidge allus 
 comes easy to Car'line ; it 'ud be better for her ef she 
 was put to more pains to ackire it.' But what's the use 
 in talkin'? We can't deny our gif's no more than we 
 can our failin's." 
 
 Rob assented with a look of unblemished sympathy; 
 and the broaching of an entirely new theme was excused 
 by the thorough loyalty of the emotion which shone in 
 his face. 
 
 " I should like to rent your house, by and by," he 
 said, " for one thing, because I admire you so much ; 
 and it might be a mutual accommodation, if Mr. Trawles 
 is so fortunate as to win you? " 
 
 " Oh, my, ya-as, my man was a good man," murmured 
 the ever adroit and seaworthy Caroline, " a good kind 
 man he was. I never see the tide makin' in through the 
 Gut but I think o' the shortness o' life ; an' be we ready ? 
 Be I? Be you? as the hymn says; and I allus try to 
 go to meet'n down to the River ef the' is any. I'm 
 sorry I didn't git some kind o' a sensible holt onto 
 religion when I was younger; an' then ag'in I think, 
 present time is the best time, after all, an' I'm cert'nly 
 more able to meet up with an' examine doctrines now 
 than when I didn't know no more 'n a weaklin' goose 
 moltin' out her pinfeathers." 
 
 "Captain Treet was lost at sea, I've heard?" said 
 Rob, and with the words as he faced Caroline, he lifted 
 his hat from his damp curls.
 
 196 POWER LOT 
 
 " He was an able seaman," she made proud rejoinder, 
 " and a great hand to cruise. Oh my, ya-as, he cruised 
 as fur as the fardest, an' his talk was interestin'. Take 
 what he'd met up with, an' his natterally seaman on- 
 christian ways o' tellin' it, I could set by the hour, with 
 my feet hove into the oven door on a cold day, to hear 
 his gab. Ef he was here now, you wouldn't like nothin' 
 better 'n to hear him reel it off. Ya-as, he's gone, the 
 way we all must go, hauled up to our last final restin' 
 place." 
 
 Rob thought of Mrs. Stingaree and her getting up 
 and going forth, and his incipient notions of immortality 
 found vent to the intended comfort of Caroline Treet's 
 soul. " I don't believe they go there," he said. " I 
 believe, when they get quit of it all here they go some- 
 where else. That's what I believe." 
 
 " What you drempt that time poor Mis' Stingaree 
 died seems to have made dreadful fast on to you," 
 answered Mrs. Treet, with an intimation in her own tone 
 that the thought of continued existence was a normal 
 and plausible one. " So fur as that is concerned, 
 Robert, your beliefs an' my beliefs is jest as firm-mated 
 as Virginny Stafford's oxen, an' goes calmly on their 
 way. I lost two children when they was babies. They 
 was jest a-gittin' into the habit o' smilin'; an' I don't 
 mind sayin' that my thoughts o' them is livin' thoughts. 
 Ef I git low by day and imagines of 'em dead, the 
 good God sends 'em down at night, smilin' and dimplin* 
 and beckonin' of me, as plain to say as ef the words 
 was spoke, ' All is well, all is well ; never be afeard to 
 come. We couldn't smile at you like we're a-smilin' 
 ef all wasn't well.' "
 
 FRIENDLY 197 
 
 Caroline Treet drew a work-worn, muscular hand 
 across the misty violet of her eyes, thrust her cap on to 
 her head, and rose. 
 
 " Ef thar ain't that old dromodile," she said indul- 
 gently, indicating Jacob Trawles, who had started on 
 a dissatisfied return from his quest at her door. " Wai', 
 I got to make out thar' an' head him off. He's a kind 
 old creatur', old man Trawles is ; and I allus keep peace 
 with my neighbors. I shouldn't wonder, when Nell an' 
 Gid cruises off this Fall ef he'd be glad to git settled in 
 his own ways with his flour and pork barrel stowed 
 in and the hams in the downstairs closet before the 
 line-storm." 
 
 Jacob Trawles beamed happily as he saw Mrs. Treet 
 approaching. Rob watched them with an honest smile 
 in his kind blue eyes.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 MES. BYJO'S BOAEDER 
 
 ONE day as Rob leaned on his hoe handle the thought 
 of being bound came to him all the fiercer for the wild 
 freedom of the landscape. A hearty criminal in prison 
 could interest himself in making his escape ; but to stay, 
 all unlaureled and uncheered, for the tedious self- 
 imposed task of " fighting beasts " and proving him- 
 self a man ; in this business, a youth, with whom the 
 sun of joy is strong and the wind of adventure sweet, 
 sometimes loses heart. While Rob's tireless muscles 
 were developing the texture of whipcord, his brown 
 cheeks were growing hollow. 
 
 In his bleak humility and loneliness, any kindly word 
 from a fellow-mortal, any confidence or appeal from a 
 human heart, came to him like wine and food. 
 
 " Rob, Rob Hilton ! Come you over here, please. 
 I want ye," called the Widow By jo, swinging her own 
 hoe aloft in beckoning and mandatory fashion. Now 
 Rob, of his soul's volition, esteemed the Widow Byjo 
 only next to Mrs. Treet, and he hastened over. 
 
 " Look here, I'm put out. Can you work in my 
 patch here the rest of the day, Rob? I'm in for a tejus 
 job, by Jo! Mary Stingaree has got a letter that Jim 
 Turbine brought over to her, and I've got to take a 
 city tourist to board. I'd rather have the devil, by Jo !
 
 MRS. BYJO'S BOARDER 199 
 
 I could put him to some mush, in the kitchen. Jim's 
 going to bring him over this afternoon." 
 
 " By gracious ! I've never seen the devil," said Rob 
 showing his white teeth broadly, " and I'm glad of the 
 invitation to be right here on the premises. You can 
 count on me." 
 
 Mrs. Byjo, deftly, with the tip of her hoe handle, 
 gave his hat a prey to the winds. Having recovered 
 it, Rob acknowledged the choiceness of these social 
 amenities with a gay laugh. 
 
 " Wit is all right in its place," she advised him seri- 
 ously, " but I'm in no position to have it played off on 
 me to-day. What I need is help." 
 
 " I didn't think he'd come for you so soon," said 
 Rob. " Don't you fret. You're good for fifty years 
 more, and you'll be strong enough to knock him out 
 even then." 
 
 A smile struggled through the gravity of Captain 
 By jo's features. When she gave a smile it was without 
 reservation. 
 
 " Don't you get to thinking you're growin' such a 
 smart stock of brains," she advised him, " for your face 
 don't bear you out in it." Then she sighed, and her 
 burden returned to her. " You know him, so they say ; 
 knew him in New York. He's a big gun, so they say, 
 big in his line ; and his name is Doctor Margate." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " What I say, and I'm stumped, by Jo ! I can till 
 the fields, self-respecting, but I've never been brought 
 down to boardin' tourists. But there ! Mary, she asked 
 it, and it's got to be. I'd do more than that for her. 
 So I've got to swaller my spleen and go to work inside
 
 200 POWER LOT 
 
 swcepin' and bakin'. So there, as I'm a woman what 
 is a woman, I've heaved my last sigh over it." 
 
 "Do you mean that Doctor Margate is coming up 
 here? " 
 
 " I do. You don't appear to like him," said Mrs. 
 By jo, commenting on Rob's trembling lips and pale 
 manner of excitement. 
 
 " Why, I've written him in the past four times, 
 and he never answered me; written him urgently on 
 most important matters, and he never answered me. 
 I didn't know but he was dead." 
 
 " He may be dead to you and me, but he ain't dead 
 to Mary Stingaree, I reckon," said Mrs. By jo with 
 meaning. " Not that Mary's confided any courting 
 about it; but she says he's wore out with a tremenjus 
 practice an' wants a sniff o' air among us Injuns in No- 
 man's Land. But he's a widow like the rest of us, and 
 his daughter was Mary's mate, and puttin' two and 
 two together, I infer that Mary is some acquainted with 
 him; it may be courting, it may not be; that ain't my 
 business, but there's a lot that is; will you take my place 
 in the fields? I'll pay ye thirty cents an hour." 
 
 " Why, yes, I'll go right to work," said Rob, with 
 exceeding quietness " right to work." 
 
 There was always that work, to pay his board; 
 work, to put by something for the rent of a home; 
 work for this, work for that ; whatever his perplexity 
 or sorrow there was always work to be done work, 
 work, work. 
 
 When Rob went home to dinner he regarded Mary 
 without any special curiosity. He had ceased to blush 
 in her presence; his eyes, of late, had met hers very
 
 MRS. BYJO'S BOARDER 201 
 
 frankly; but what, to the people round about, were 
 laughing eyes, to her were dreary ; they were ever grave 
 and stricken when they met hers. She wondered, and 
 sought to win him once more to a friendly confidence. 
 
 " Doctor Margate is coming to Power Lot to stay 
 a while at Mrs. Stafford's, Robert. Perhaps she told 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes. Is he coming to see you, or to find out about 
 me? What is his object in coming 'way off here? " 
 
 Mary herself colored a little under the steady frank- 
 ness of those dreary eyes ; she noticed with a twinge of 
 pathos the hollowness of his tanned cheeks. 
 
 " There is his letter," she replied, handing it out. 
 " He gives simply as his motive the desire for a change 
 of scene and air. I think his visit concerns you. I 
 have written him, always, very kindly " her eyes went 
 down ; Rob was now so strong and virile a creature in 
 appearance for this indulgent sort of treatment " very 
 encouragingly, about you." 
 
 " Thank you," said Rob drily, rising. " I trust you 
 did not have to strain a point in order to be kind." 
 
 She looked after him with a new emotion of surprise. 
 He walked carefully across the clean floor in his 
 slippered feet, sat down on the doorstep and put on his 
 boots as usual, and tramped methodically over to Mrs. 
 By jo's to his labors. 
 
 It fell to my share, as " Jim," of course, to fetch 
 Doctor Margate over from Waldeck station in my boat. 
 He was not so old a man as I had thought; he did not 
 seem old, and since he was going up tp see Mary, I 
 should have hated him for being so straight and grand, 
 if there hadn't been a look in his eyes like a tired dog
 
 202 POWER LOT 
 
 sent out, after a shipwreck, to bring another body in. 
 I had a dog like that once, and here were his old, 
 staunch, dying eyes looking at me again out of this 
 man's head. I didn't trust him, though; people may 
 prove very different, said I to myself, from what their 
 headlights indicate. He had a flower in his buttonhole 
 when I first saw him on the station platform, and I 
 knew what that meant; he was after Mary, whether 
 she knew it or not; and the conviction struck me hard 
 as we sailed over that what he wanted he would get. 
 
 He understood all about a boat ; he knew everything ; 
 he had the gift o' gab so that even the gulls followed 
 him to listen. I'd heard he was worn out, but only for 
 his dog-eyes he looked as strong as Samson, with his 
 ruddy cheeks and iron-gray hair, and his hands were 
 almost as sinewy as mine. 
 
 I had a buggy team engaged to bring him up the 
 hill, and he never shrunk, as most people do, from driv- 
 ing up that hill for the first time, for fear things '11 
 start backwards. No, he kept looking back and ex- 
 patiating on the view, and asked me to stop a minute 
 once in the most breakneck place of all, where I had to 
 turn the old horse sidewise to give her any footing at 
 all, and he looked off, saying, " Superb ! Glorious ! " 
 
 I got so sick of it, I slewed the old horse back a little 
 with a sly taut on the reins, to try to scare my slick 
 passenger and shut off his " glorious " wind, but he 
 only said coolly : 
 
 " Always slack on the lines when a horse is climbing, 
 my friend," says he, and I felt several kinds of an un- 
 necessary fool. 
 
 We came up on to the plains and steered up the lane.
 
 MRS. BYJO'S BOARDER 203 
 
 In a field over to the right was Rob Hilton work- 
 ing away in his old faded shirtsleeves and beclodded 
 boots. 
 
 " Why why, that looks like Robert Hilton," said the 
 doctor; "yes, that must be Rob off there. What 
 what has he on his head? " 
 
 " One of the hats Caroline Treet makes." 
 
 " She must be a very gifted person." 
 
 " She is all of that." 
 
 " Is it necessary for him to wear it? " 
 
 " Well, I suppose she heard there was company com- 
 ing, and hurried up to get it done, and brought it over 
 to him ; and he put it on so as not to hurt her feelings. 
 He's capable o' doin' just such things as that, Rob is," 
 I said bitterly. For the old boy sitting beside me was so 
 slick. If a man has had advantages all prodded with 
 the world's information and greased with culture till it 
 fairly shows he doesn't want to shake 'em around 
 too careless before folks that haven't had 'em. Rob 
 was different. He'd had advantages, but he could cover 
 'em all up in a minute so as to be one with you till you'd 
 never know but what he had been born, bred, and raised 
 in Power Lot, God Help Us. 
 
 " Is he like that? I thought it might prove so. 
 Good ! " The doctor's tired eyes lightened in a way 
 I did not understand. " I am glad if he can be like 
 that," he repeated. 
 
 I sort of gnashed my teeth internally. 
 
 " The sun's pretty hot to swelter around under to- 
 day," I said. " Sitting here and taking the breeze ain't 
 like standing up to bone-labor." 
 
 " He has changed," said the doctor, not minding me ;
 
 204 POWER LOT 
 
 " even from here one can see that he has grown as 
 strong as an ox." 
 
 "He works like one," I said; "he's the steadiest 
 drudge anywheres around." 
 
 That triumphant light kept waking in his eyes; and 
 as for me, I could have tumbled him out of the buggy 
 with a good will. 
 
 " That is Miss Stingaree's house, I suppose, near 
 where Rob Hilton is working? " he said. 
 
 "No," said I; "that's Captain Byjo's Mrs. Staf- 
 ford's, I mean. Rob is her hired man just now; he's 
 working out twenty cents an hour ; " I had not yet 
 heard of the recent raise in his wages " toil and sweat 
 is his portion. The Stingaree house is over there on 
 the other side o' the lane." 
 
 Mary came to the door as we drove up, and it went 
 to my heart like cold ashes, the job of bringing that 
 fine old fellow there, to confab and talk high-flown 
 language along o' her. My sympathies just fairly 
 gushed out all of a sudden, toward poor Rob Hilton, 
 beating away at his work in the potato field. " He used 
 to be teasing me to sail him over to Waldeck," thought 
 I to myself. " Well, he shall go to Waldeck, and have 
 a good time too, and I'll keep company with him as 
 merry as he likes consistent with keeping out of the 
 rum-fiend's clutches." 
 
 I got rid of Doctor Margate as brusquely as I could 
 at Mary's door, and acknowledged her smile of greet- 
 ing with a short nod. Then I went over to Captain 
 Byjo's and deposited the great man's heavy valise, like 
 any truckman ; and coming out, I stopped in the field 
 where Rob was.
 
 MRS. BYJO'S BOARDER 205 
 
 He lifted up his head, and bit his lip; and yes 
 there were the cruellest kind of tears in his strained 
 eyes the unshed kind ; he could not seem to speak ; his 
 mouth quivered. 
 
 " Hello, old man," said I, and I could not help putting 
 an arm along his shoulder. I'd never been familiar with 
 him, but I felt familiar with him, then and forever. 
 " Bear up," says I, " you and I got to bear up, an' 
 steer right on. I know the tune, same as you," says I, 
 " but the seas ain't goin 5 to swaller us ; we'll beat the 
 seas. D n it all, we got to steer right on," says I. 
 " I'm goin' to, an' you're as much of a man as I am, any 
 day." 
 
 " You don't think that," says he ; and being all of 
 a sudden familiar with him forever and forever, I read 
 his soul. 
 
 " I do mean it," says I. " Don't you give me the 
 lie ! If ever a man was made able to steer right on, it's 
 you, Rob Hilton. If you don't know it yet, / know it, 
 by all that's holy ! Come, let's shake." 
 
 " All right," says he ; and it may be a big word, con- 
 siderin' the occasion, but I felt immortal strength along 
 o' the heart-break in the grip o' the poor boy's hand. 
 
 " Now look here," says I ; " say, when your first patch 
 o' potatoes is ready to dig, what do you say to a sail 
 with me over to Waldeck? I know somebody there 
 that '11 give you a fancy price for 'em. We'll load 'em 
 on to the boat, and if you will help me a little with some 
 other truck I've promised to take over, the business 
 shan't cost you a penny, and I'll be glad of your 
 company." 
 
 " You said once," said Rob, with a streak of sun-
 
 206 POWER LOT 
 
 shine on his face, " when I asked you to take me over 
 that you ' chose your own company.' " 
 
 " Ain't I choosin' my own company? " said I. " I'd 
 rather have you sail with me honest, Rob than any 
 other man I ever met anywheres, not exceptin' Power 
 Lot, God Help Us." 
 
 Any other man. I did not know then that Rob had 
 heard Mary Stingaree that moonlight evening, when 
 she said slightingly that he "was not a man at all." 
 I did not know why in thunder such a high light blazed 
 from his face at my words. A sail to Waldeck to sell 
 potatoes wouldn't seem much of an ambition to any- 
 one who had once possessed what Rob Hilton was 
 born heir to. But there, thought I, he's been shut off 
 here so long, the prospect of the sail is like wine to 
 him. 
 
 His shoulders were set mighty square, considering 
 what seemed the childishness of his emotion, and the way 
 he gripped my hand proved that the old salt ham he'd 
 played with in the Stingaree shed must have suffered 
 some severities before he got through with it. 
 
 " I won't forget this, Jim," says he ; and he added 
 with regular eagerness, as I turned away, " I think my 
 first crop will be ready in about three weeks, now." 
 
 " I'm your man," says I, " when you're ready." 
 
 I forgot that it was customary to drive down the 
 hill by the Joggins road, and I took the steep way, never 
 heeding. The old horse condoned my f orgetf ulness with 
 perfect wisdom of his own. The descent was an enter- 
 prise that required care, and in spite of my pricking 
 and urging, he did most certainly take entirely his own 
 time for the job.
 
 MRS. BYJO'S BOARDER 207 
 
 Captain Belcher and another compatriot saluted my 
 ultimate landing on level soil. 
 
 " I've won," said Belcher. 
 
 "What about?" I asked. 
 
 "Why, Ed Nedds an' me was bettin', for the last 
 three or four hours, as to whether ye was goin' up the 
 hill or down it. I took the caution to jedge by lan'- 
 marks, an' I bet ' down,' an' here ye be, Capting. I 
 consider that I ain't wasted no time watchin' of ye, 
 neither, for it was an interestin' inch-wormin' a sight 
 as I ever see."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 SHE OP THE WHIP-HAND 
 
 MARY STINGAREE and the doctor sat out on the porch 
 together ; vines hid its rotting timbers ; beauty cov- 
 ered all defects during the brief marvelously bright 
 summer in this northern clime. The little porch faced 
 the grandeur of the scene. 
 
 " I could not write it to you," said Mary. " It 
 seemed too dreadful; he was doing so well, until they 
 enticed him down there, and he fell he drank again 
 and was married; trapped into it, I understand, but 
 married, to a little French-Canadian girl down there 
 at the River." 
 
 " Yes, I heard that rumor. The man who brought me 
 up here James Turbine seems to think it possible 
 there might be some mistake about that. He says the 
 truth concerning that affair all lies with a certain ' Cap- 
 tain Belcher,' if he could only be made to speak the 
 truth. The few other participants, including Rob him- 
 self, were too muddled to take away any impressions 
 of the scene that would serve as reliable statistics." 
 
 " Surely the girl herself would know." 
 
 " She is as courageous as Captain Belcher, I am told. 
 What she affirms, that will she swear to, and blench not, 
 neither be confused." 
 
 " It is possible then, you mean, that Rob was not 
 married to her?" 
 
 808
 
 SHE OF THE WHIP-HAND 209 
 
 " * Jim ' Turbine certainly intimated that such a 
 doubt was admissible." 
 
 " But Rob himself virtually acknowledges it, and 
 though he has never gone to live with them down there 
 he is working with all his might to make a home for 
 her." 
 
 " I shall have the mystery solved and the truth 
 brought to light. Everything I hear, with the excep- 
 tion of that one fall, seems creditable to Rob. It. was a 
 case of * kill or cure,' and it begins to look like ' cure.' 
 He was doomed, body and soul, in the life he was 
 pursuing. He was never sober long enough to look 
 comprehensively and connectedly into his own affairs or 
 assume any worthy responsibility concerning them. To 
 fill his pockets with cash and carouse it away, was the 
 end and aim of his bright being. His father was a 
 pleasure-lover too, but he had a keen business sense. 
 The property is safely and conservatively invested, 
 and is waxing greater every day of Rob's life ; and he, 
 I believe now, will grow to his responsibilities. A a 
 woman whom he had learned to adore a good woman 
 a strong woman could pilot him through, I believe." 
 
 Mary, too, saw in the great man's eyes the exhaustion 
 of a spiritual fight, the self-immolation of the dog who 
 strikes out once more to save. 
 
 " I hope that all present complications may clear 
 for poor Rob's sake," she said, " and that he may find 
 such a woman." 
 
 "He has not lived under the same roof with you, 
 these past months," declared the man, with an emotion 
 not to be mistaken, " without suffering, climbing, hop- 
 ing; without realizing to the depths of his soul who
 
 210 POWER LOT 
 
 that woman is that absorbs him, exalts him, stings him 
 to despair." 
 
 He rose and stood for a moment with half-averted 
 face, one arm uplifted to a vine-clad pillar of the 
 porch. 
 
 " I am forced to remember " Mary spoke with an 
 intensity that had driven the color from her lips 
 " that my own father was an inebriate, and that my 
 brother is one. I do not entertain the thoughts that 
 some entertain. My life, though stainless itself I 
 know, lies by way of sacrifice, but not by way of in- 
 creasing, perhaps, the sum of evil." 
 
 " Nonsense " he faced her " I am a physician, as 
 you know. I believe no man living has had a wider ex- 
 perience at least, of the human constitution and its 
 limitations, and its possibilities. I tell you your asser- 
 tion is nonsense. A man can grow out of evil, a man 
 can change his nature, in weeks, months, in a day, in 
 an hour. God lives and works by ceaseless ' miracles.' 
 New growth, new life. Nature proves it. Heredity is 
 the bugbear of all the old Back-Numbers in existence. 
 God laughs that theory to scorn, if we only had the eyes 
 to see, and the courage to rise and live." 
 
 Mary, long quietly rusting at Power Lot, God Help 
 Us, shrank a little from this startling mental antag- 
 onist. She was quite ready to turn the flow of the 
 theme to lightness. 
 
 A smile dawned in her eyes. 
 
 " Thank you. I am well aware that I am an old 
 * Back-Number.' " 
 
 " Nonsense, again." The truth of him would not be 
 withstood. " I love you till my heart is torn past con-
 
 SHE OF THE WHIP-HAND 211 
 
 trol. Will you answer me? " he continued gently. " I 
 have asked you this question before. You know my life, 
 my reputation celebrity, I may say without vainglory, 
 since I want to present this case as alluringly as possi- 
 ble. My fortune is large, my character well proven. 
 Mary will you marry me? " 
 
 " No, oh no. You are cruel. Do not ask me that." 
 " You do not love me in the least like that? " 
 " No, oh no. Why, when one is in straits, do peo- 
 ple think only of themselves ? " 
 
 "Why, indeed? Well, I will think of myself no 
 more." He returned to his chair, easily resting his 
 arm on the chair-arm, and his iron-gray head on his 
 hand; but the side of his face toward her was plain to 
 view, strong, tender, his eyes looking out seaward. A 
 qualm went to her heart, that ached with admiration 
 and with pity. He would have renewed the bright sun 
 of his youth, but his sorrow was above all things con- 
 siderate and brave. 
 
 " I did not mean that," she stammered. " You are 
 unselfish and great. But I I think you mistake my 
 power; my power over poor Rob, for instance. He is 
 interesting ; he is fascinating " she smiled " in one 
 way, I admit, to a mind that has had so many stern 
 realities to deal with as I have, he is so easily made 
 joyous. Whatever his mood, he has a child's heart; 
 though he has lived in the midst of sophistication and 
 excess, he has kept a certain bright soul of his own, 
 unblemished. I cannot express it in any better way, 
 but you understand. I thought at one time that I had 
 influence over him unconsciously, in the sense that it 
 was more, much more, than I desired to have "
 
 212 POWER LOT 
 
 The color swept over her face. 
 
 " I understand," said Doctor Margate, " perfectly." 
 
 " You may rest assured that now, though he is al- 
 ways courteous, he quite avoids me," she continued. 
 " The utmost of my feeling toward him has been such 
 such, I should imagine, as a mother might feel toward 
 an an engaging, but unfortunate, child." 
 
 " That feeling, even unmodified, in its very essence, 
 goes a long way," replied the man, still gazing calmly 
 seaward ; " farther than you know, or dream of." 
 
 " But," Mary made haste to continue, " there is an 
 actual tie involving a weaker appeal still, far weaker, 
 in the case of my poor brother. I have not much op- 
 portunity for the studying of joy in any nature." 
 
 Bate, to her intense mortification, was making him- 
 self heard in the kitchen in an angry disapproval of 
 her temporary withdrawal from active affairs and his 
 delayed supper. 
 
 Doctor Margate divined much. " Poor girl poor 
 child," he said ; " let me help you with that burden, 
 with any burden, just as your old friend. Upon my 
 soul, I will be content if you will only let me help you." 
 
 He reached out his hand and laid it lightly, though 
 with a gesture of infinite protection, upon hers. 
 
 It was at this juncture that Rob appeared. He had 
 seen Bate enter the house with that aggressive manner 
 of importance which indicated an inward replenishing 
 from some vinous resource at the River. Perished, in 
 that instant, Rob's distaste for meeting Doctor Mar- 
 gate in the thought that Mary " might need him." 
 So he marched in, giving the noisy Bate a look of stern 
 meaning on his way through the house to the porch
 
 SHE OF THE WHIP-HAND 213 
 
 door. Their backs were turned to him, but he heard the 
 low pleading of Doctor Margate's voice and saw the 
 hand laid protectingly upon hers. 
 
 A cold hand wrung his vitals dry of all sensation 
 for a moment. Then he caught his breath and ad- 
 vanced to the doctor with a cordiality so correct and 
 firm that it was visibly altogether Spartan. The good 
 man's pleased exclamations at his health, his tan, his 
 vigor, hardly pierced his consciousness. He knew that 
 Mary was in a dilemma, that she would have been pleased 
 to invite the doctor to supper, that it was impossible 
 on account of Bate. 
 
 " By the way," said Rob, with a splendid affectation 
 of social ease, " I come as an emissary from Mrs. 
 Stafford, who is anxious to see her guest, and who has 
 her supper all prepared. May I escort you over, 
 Doctor, and introduce you to your hostess? " 
 
 " Thank you. Good I'll go at once. But see 
 here, boy why, you're grand," he exclaimed, holding 
 Rob off. " Why, I'd give my money and my Sunday 
 coat to look as you do. Is this Rob Hilton, or Saint 
 Michael, Saint George, and Saint Glory stepping out 
 of a picture frame? Bless you, lad, I'm more glad 
 than you know to see you again." 
 
 Rob acknowledged these hearty encomiums but dully. 
 What did it all signify to him? Mary was indeed for- 
 ever lost to him. When he came back to his own meal 
 he heard Bate even from a distance, pursuing a harsh, 
 bumptious, brutal discourse with Mary. 
 
 " See here, for a girl that sets up to be as good as 
 you be, you have a mighty suspicious lot o' men hangin' 
 'round ye. I wouldn't put on sanctimony, an* then
 
 214 POWER LOT 
 
 act like the devil, ef I was you. Ye'd better be honest, 
 't least. Who was that cussid old dude settin' out thar' 
 on the porch with ye, anyway? I wanted ter mow out 
 in front thar', an' ye had ter go an' plank yerselves 
 down thar', shameless critturs." 
 
 It came to Rob, in a hot wave of recollection, t his was 
 the being with whom he had aimed to affiliate on first 
 arriving at Power Lot, to whom he had appealed for a 
 mutual clandestine procuring of the drink that had 
 been a curse to them both. Shame and humiliation 
 actually scorched him at this remembrance of the devils 
 which had so vilely possessed him. He listened trem- 
 bling, too, with anger. 
 
 " Bate," said Mary very calmly, " if you ever speak 
 to me in that way again, I will appeal to Mrs. Stafford, 
 whom you have more reason than one to fear. I know 
 that you are hardly responsible, and I am patient, but 
 you must be decent, do you hear me? " 
 
 " A nice sister I got," snarled Bate. " Bad herself, 
 an* schemin' all the time to git me into trouble." 
 
 " Oh, but how I have worked and sacrificed myself 
 to keep you out of trouble," cried Mary passionately, 
 at last, " and you malign and insult me." 
 
 " Yer can't prove I took old By jo's money," asserted 
 Bate stolidly, but Rob detected the fear in his tone; 
 " it's yer d d suspicions. She prob'ly hid it away, 
 an' then laid the loss of it onto other folks." 
 
 " We won't discuss a matter of which we both thor- 
 oughly understand the truth ; but if you speak brutally 
 to me again, I will appeal to her to let you suffer the 
 consequences from which we've so long tried to shield 
 you."
 
 SHE OF THE WHIP-HAND 215 
 
 "Ye will, will ye? ye d d sneakin', meddlin " 
 
 Through the half -opened door Rob, unbelieving-, saw 
 Bate advancing upon Mary with upraised fists. He 
 sprang like a lion ; it was the work of but one instant 
 of ecstatic indignation, and Bate lay stretched on the 
 kitchen floor at his feet. Before he could stagger up 
 the avenging hand had felled him again. 
 
 " You would strike her, would you you would strike 
 her," Rob hissed, sobbed, through his teeth; " you would 
 strike her. Oh, my God." 
 
 Bate, half rising, reached for a knife that lay on 
 the table. Rob kicked it fiercely from his hand, and 
 seizing a rope that hung from a nail on the wall, and 
 kneeling on the infuriated wretch, he tied him hand and 
 foot. Imprecations, vile accusations were hurled at 
 them both. Mary stood by, white as if laid in her 
 grave. 
 
 " There," gasped Rob, rising from his knees, " let 
 him lie there till he's safe. Never mind what he says, 
 never mind ; it's of no consequence what he says." 
 
 He thought that Mary would fall. " Come, Miss 
 Stingaree," he said naturally, persuasively, as if she 
 were the child, and he seeking to restore her to a normal 
 realization of existence again ; " come, we must get some 
 supper. Will you help me? Bate will consent to be- 
 have himself and get up and eat with us, by and by. 
 Come, show me what to do." 
 
 They made but a sad and poor pretense at eating. 
 Mary placed Bate's supper to keep it warm, and went 
 over to him where he lay. 
 
 " Bate," she said sorrowfully, " won't you try to 
 think for a moment how I have kept you free, how I
 
 216 POWER LOT 
 
 have tried to help you always? I want to keep you 
 free and to help you now ; but you must not lie about 
 people, nor abuse and strike them. You will promise 
 not to do that? you will swear by the memory of our 
 poor mother? Oh, Bate, my brother." 
 
 The pleading in her voice choked her utterance, tears 
 welled in her eyes as she entreated him. Bate gave a 
 long angry sneer. 
 
 " Bate," said Rob, his lips tightening with pain as 
 he watched the extremity of Mary's grief, he also under- 
 taking to plead, for her sake, " I couldn't see you strike 
 her; sure, you would have killed yourself afterward if 
 you had done such a thing. Come, promise what she 
 asks, for your own sake. I will untie you. Let's be 
 friends, let's try to do better, let's help each other on. 
 I've a quick temper myself, I know." 
 
 Another long snort of scorn from Bate. But just at 
 this moment Mrs. By jo stepped in briskly. 
 
 " Well," she declared, " if a good appetite is a com- 
 pliment to a provider, my boarder has set me up, and 
 no mistake. I know when people eat to be polite, and 
 when they eat because they want to. He apologized 
 once or twice. * Go right ahead,' says I, ' I'm as able- 
 bodied at the mixin' bowl as I am at the plow.' He's 
 finished, at last, and gone off gappin' at the view. You'd 
 think this was the only real up-and-down, helter-skelter, 
 far-reachin' piece o' lan'scape on the sphere by the way 
 any strange-comer stan's an' opens his mouth at it 
 Why, what's the matter? " she exclaimed, discovering 
 Bate stretched on the floor in a dimming corner of the 
 room. 
 
 " What ye been doing, Bate? " she questioned the
 
 SHE OF THE WHIP-HAND 217 
 
 supine one with paralyzing force of directness. " I 
 know. Ye've been tryin' to abuse somebody to harm 
 and hurt somebody ; and ye promised me straight, when 
 I let ye off, ye promised me ye wouldn't." 
 
 Mrs. By jo usually carried her whip with her. She 
 had it now, and she brought the lash around with a 
 sharp crack. 
 
 " 'Fraid to let him up, are you, Mary and Rob ? " 
 she inquired staunchly ; " well, 7 ain't afraid to let him 
 up." She stepped bravely forth and untied the knots 
 that bound him, then she swung back and gave her 
 lash a clear and resounding snap in the air, as it were, 
 by way of experiment. Bate did not stir. 
 
 " Get up, by Jo," she commanded him, with the utmost 
 cheerfulness, " or I'll thrash ye layin' down." 
 
 To the astonishment of Mary and Rob, Bate rose 
 to his feet, the whole contour of his face and shoulders 
 being that of sheepish obedience. 
 
 "Now, do ye promise," she adjured him, "and 
 promise to keep, this time? Sw'ar it then, sw'ar it by 
 the knockin's over at Spook House. Disobey them, and 
 see what'll come to ye." 
 
 Bate, very pale, nodded a subdued acquiescence, " I 
 sw'ar." 
 
 " There's such folks as Bate in this world," continued 
 Mrs. Byjo, lapsing from the sterner measures of her 
 course to philosophize frankly and helpfully in the 
 downcast face of her pupil. " Some says there's not. 
 Some talk about everlastin' lovin'-kindness and patience ; 
 and you've showed it, Mary Stingaree. You've showed 
 it to Bate Stingaree." 
 
 She pointed the handle of her whip from one to the
 
 218 POWER LOT 
 
 other as a simple and emphatic manner of elucidating 
 her theme. 
 
 " Now, what Bate Stingaree needs, it appears, ain't 
 lovin'-kindness, for it's been tried on him, and he ain't 
 got sense enough to know it when he sees it; he thinks 
 lovin'-kindness is a coward and afraid of him. What 
 Bate Stingaree needs and admires, by Jo, is the whip." 
 She gave hers another sonorous free-hearted crack in 
 the air. 
 
 " Bate Stingaree's got to be born again, like the man 
 up the tree, 't the ministers preach about. I've got my 
 opinions, and I believe he'll have his chance, and ef not 
 in this world then in some world he will git born again 
 till he turns out decent. Meanwhiles what he needs 
 an' asks for in his very soul, poor feller, is the whip. 
 And, Bate," she added with perfect friendliness of sym- 
 pathy, "I've got some for ye, whenever ye feel a 
 hankerin' after it, and bear you well in mind, young 
 feller, I've got the whip-hand o' ye."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MRS. PROUTY OF PROUTY's NECK 
 
 IT was Rob's custom to work in the long, long twilight 
 after supper. From six o' the clock to ten he made 
 another day. This evening he did not change once 
 more into his old clothes and go into the field ; his heart 
 was too restless. Doctor Margate would soon appear 
 for another chat with Mary, and he, Rob, would be in 
 the way. Bate had devoured his supper contemptuously 
 and gone the way of the River. Rob sought to still 
 the tumult in his brain by a solitary stroll of his own 
 along the heights. 
 
 Passing through the dooryarcl he espied the astound- 
 ing vision of a choice an especially choice cigar 
 lying in the grass. He hesitated a moment, then stooped 
 and picked it up ; it was one that had been quenched 
 almost as soon as lighted, gallantly tossed away by the 
 doctor when he had first met Mary on the porch. Rob 
 observed how intact it was, put it sweetly to his nostrils ; 
 ah, no molasses and ginger in this product. He made 
 a mouthpiece of a bit of paper, inserted the cigar, and 
 puffed rapturously as he tramped on. Velvet reclining 
 chairs, blazing chandeliers, soft-footed attendants, the 
 clink of iced champagne all swayed his senses once 
 more in seductive memory, with the fumes of that deli- 
 cious cigar. A hearty voice broke the spell. 
 
 " Hold on, Rob, I can't keep up with you." Doctor 
 219
 
 220 POWER LOT 
 
 Margate overtook him, breathing rather heavily, and 
 laid a hand on Rob's shoulder. 
 
 " Ah, my boy, not so very long ago you could not 
 keep up with me. And, now but even in my heyday 
 I had not your physique. Ah, but you're to be envied 
 envied." The doctor spoke with exuberant frankness, 
 his hand still resting on Rob's shoulder. 
 
 " That " thought Rob " is his considerate way of 
 appearing not to have noticed the fact that I'm smok- 
 ing his discarded cigar." It was such a bald confession 
 of penury, of classical beggardom, of hopeless, weary, 
 utter resignation, to smoke a cigar that one has 
 picked up in the yard. Rob's face had been dyed with 
 blushes. But after the first hot wave, despair makes 
 a man fearless and bold ; and he said : 
 
 " You are the one to be envied, Doctor Margate if 
 you are engaged to Mary Stingaree." 
 
 " But I'm not, Rob. Let's walk on a little. I am 
 not. I asked her, but she would not have me." 
 
 Rob said nothing. Wonder, infinite relief, the pang 
 of hopeless love on his own part, pity and a sudden mood 
 of valiant championship for the doctor; all these 
 possessed him. 
 
 " Life is no tangle here, is it, Rob? " said the great 
 man, looking away to the scene spread before them. 
 " Plain toil, plain struggle, the river, the basin, then 
 the tremendous tides out yonder ; what is that passage 
 there? What do you call it? " 
 
 " The Gut." 
 
 " Aye, out through the Gut at last, into the open 
 and, faith, but God works well. We'll believe that, 
 though the cup we long for gets dashed from our lips."
 
 MRS. PROUTY OF PROUTY'S NECK 221 
 
 He stood with bared head, and seemed to forget where 
 he stood as he gazed. Bob looked at the familiar gray 
 head and rapt face. It appeared that Rob himself was 
 seeing visions. The gaudy tinsel of the cigar laden at- 
 mosphere faded out of sight and sound, and cathedral 
 organs of the long-ago pealed through his senses with 
 revelations, with aspirations, dim to him once, divinely 
 clear to him in this instant ; and life was not much, 
 and death was not much, but only to play true, that 
 was all. 
 
 " You have doubted me a good deal, I suppose, 
 Robert?" 
 
 Rob woke from his trance and met the doctor face 
 to face. 
 
 " No, never your honesty. I can remember still 
 how my father used to talk about you. But I've written 
 you and never received any answer, and I do not under- 
 stand. It is very strange, it seems to me, that a fortune 
 such as my father left should go to the dogs so com- 
 pletely and suddenly as mine did. What was the mat- 
 ter ? Is not there anything to be saved out of it ? " 
 
 " Oh, a great deal to be saved a great deal, Rob, 
 my boy. Go back to New York to-morrow, if you want 
 to, and find out for yourself whether those who have 
 the stewardship have been faithful." 
 
 Rob gasped. His own revulsion of feeling staggered 
 him. Mary never to see her more. Mary left in 
 the house with Bate, unprotected. The sea, the land, 
 even his crop of potatoes the wondrous product at 
 last of his painful toils the very air he breathed, all 
 seemed dear to him of a sudden, and he spoke impul- 
 sively, almost fiercely, words strange to his own ears.
 
 222 POWER LOT 
 
 " I don't want to go back," he said. 
 
 "I understand, Rob. I would not go back yet, i( 
 I were you." 
 
 So absorbed were the two in their own thoughts 
 they did not realize that they were passing Caroline 
 Treet's house. She, however, had heard of the cele- 
 brated man's arrival at Power Lot; and Rob saw her 
 standing in her own porch door and beckoning with a 
 black kid-gloved hand. 
 
 " Look out, she's got on her black kid gloves ; she's 
 going to make a set at you, Doctor," he murmured 
 low. 
 
 " She who? You amaze me that so handsome a. 
 woman should be put to it to pluck adorers from a 
 foreign tree. Who is she? " 
 
 " Come in," called Caroline smoothly ; " friends 
 known and unknown, come right into the Room." 
 
 For, at Power Lot, God Help Us, they called the 
 parlor or place of state simply the Room, and to enter 
 it was, in itself, to fulfill the holiest of social obliga- 
 tions. Not every family had a " room," but as for 
 Caroline Treet, hers contained more bouquets from the 
 grass of forgotten harvests, and mortuary wreaths 
 under arched glass, and portraits, framed in sea-spoil, 
 of those gone before, than, perhaps, any other house 
 in Power Lot, and though she was considered every- 
 where as more of a kind-hearted than a vain woman, 
 yet she could not quite banish from her manner, espe- 
 cially when in the very presence of these relics, a 
 certain palmy and serene consciousness of elegance. 
 
 " Be pleased to seat yourselves, friends known and 
 unknown." Caroline repeated the happy phrase with a
 
 MRS. PROUTY OF PROUTY'S NECK 223 
 
 soft emphasis on the " unknown," and the doctor's heart 
 might be supposed to thrill; but he had a less senti- 
 mental emergency to reckon with, for the " room " be- 
 ing shut dark, and his glasses in his vest pocket, he sat 
 down hopefully on what proved to be a very stout 
 woman, who repudiated him with the angry lash of her 
 arms and a scream of unflattering disgust. 
 
 " May God forgive me," drawled Caroline, at once 
 letting in some light through a shutter ; " fade as fade 
 may, let's see what's going on here amongst ourselves." 
 On discovering the doctor standing dismayed and 
 immovable in the safe center of the room, she sought 
 to reassure him through the methods of a formal pre- 
 sentation: 
 
 "Let me introduce you to Mis' Prouty of Prouty's 
 Neck." 
 
 Mrs. Prouty of Prouty's Neck observed the doctor's 
 low and remorseful bow without much concern either 
 way. Her mind, it was plain, was absorbed in another 
 grievance. The light through the shutters revealed 
 also two boys, respectively seven and eight years of age, 
 their faces likewise distorted with misery. 
 
 " They been talkin' all winter an' all spring about 
 comin' over to the Baptis' 4 cherry-carnival,' an' I made 
 'em some decent clo's, the Lord knows how, an' fetched 
 'em over an' paid fifteen cents apiece for 'em, like all 
 the rest that filled up to the brim an' runnin' over 
 an' after all this how-de-do an' takin'-on that's nearly 
 wore me out " expounded Mrs. Prouty, the indignant 
 mother " them little sneaks pimped up all of a sudden 
 without no warnin', like a colicky hummin' bird, an* 
 never et five cents worth, the two on 'em together."
 
 224. POWER LOT 
 
 " We thought as how there'd be cherries to a cherry 
 carnival," complained the older boy loudly, taking 
 courage from the extended dimensions of his audi- 
 ence. 
 
 " An' when it was explained to you that this wan't the 
 bearin'-year f'r cherries, you little slouches put yer- 
 selves in rebellion ag'in the Lord on high, 'stead o' con- 
 dimentin' down all the good vittles ye could hold like the 
 rest on us with sweet pickles an' be thankful." 
 
 " The pickles they giv' me wan't sweet," declared 
 the boy, in tones of cold and resentful recollection. 
 
 " Hear to him ! " cried the exasperated Mrs. Prouty. 
 
 " 'Sides, we et more bread 'n meat 'n anybody else 
 thar'," now spake the younger, rising stoutly to his 
 brother's defense. 
 
 " Bread and meat ! " sneered Mrs Prouty ; " makin' 
 wild hoodoos o' yerselves, as though ye'd never seen 
 Christian dainties afore an' was scared of 'em." 
 
 " I wan't afraid," maintained the elder. " I tasted 
 onto ev'ry kind o' pie an' cake the' was." 
 
 " An' why didn't ye eat 'em? " 
 
 " 'Cos," he explained, without any nice reservations, 
 " they tasted jest like your ha'r ile smells, Ma." 
 
 " Vanilla's a mighty expensive spice, you little wild 
 b'ar's cub." 
 
 " I can't help that, Ma," he answered, having now 
 grown quite bold ; " it makes me want ter vomick." 
 
 " Wai', when an air of wind comes up your father '11 
 be over to sail us home, an' thar' you'll stay f'r all o' 
 any carnival you'll ever go to ag'in." 
 
 The boy, now verging on the bounds of the " saucy," 
 was about to express, to his mother's wrath, his com-
 
 MRS. PROUTY OF PROUTY'S NECK 225 
 
 plete satisfaction with this dictum, when Doctor Mar- 
 gate himself interposed. 
 
 " I I came to this beautiful country, hoping to find 
 cherries, too," he advised the boys, and they read him 
 literally, nor realized the depth of pathos in the great 
 man's confession ; " but for me too, I find it is not a 
 cherry-bearing year. I doubt if I shall ever gather 
 many more cherries. But I like little boys who prefer 
 bread and meat to cake; such good sense deserves its 
 reward, and I wish your good mother would take this 
 slight appreciation of my regard for you and spend 
 it for you as she deems wisest." 
 
 It was a five-dollar note, and the disaffected family 
 clasped each other's hands and beamed as one. " That 
 pays for not having them fill up, doesn't it? " the doctor 
 inquired of the mother in his simple way, that was on a 
 rational and unassuming level with the crying needs of 
 any situation. 
 
 " A few minutes ago," replied Mrs. Prouty, " I really 
 didn't know what I come for. But the guidin'-hand was 
 after me same as usual. I was meant to come, an' I 
 come, an' now I see why I come." 
 
 She clasped the greatly augmented treasures of her 
 purse firmly. 
 
 " And now, Mis' Prouty," said Mrs. Treet hospitably, 
 " you'll take off your things, bein' far away an' seldom 
 seen, an' make yourself to home? " 
 
 " No," responded Mrs. Prouty gracefully, " I'll set 
 here jest as I be an' pray for an air o' wind. I was 
 never one that felt easy settin' 'round away from home. 
 But I'm glad to see ye, Car'line. What's this I hear 
 about old man Trawles ? "
 
 226 POWER LOT 
 
 The question was so uncompromisingly put it reflected 
 the terrors of a court of law, and the whole company 
 appeared startled. 
 
 Except Caroline. 
 
 " Oh my, ya-as, what's this I hear, an' what's that 
 I hear? " she murmured discursively. " Somebody on 
 ev'ry hand is allus hearin' somethin'. The neighbors 
 drops in here often, an' allus welcome received an' their 
 yarns listened to, whatsoever. Cap'n Belcher was 
 passin' this mornin' an' reeled me off a yarn, that, ef 
 it's true, some folks in an' around' Power Lot, God Help 
 Us, is ignorant enough to need missionaries sent to 'em, 
 an' no more so amongst them that fries in the sun 
 naked on the isles o' the sea. What think you ? " 
 
 They were all too interested to push their inquiries 
 further than by the appeal of open mouths. Only the 
 doctor said kindly: 
 
 "What was his yarn?" 
 
 Caroline blushed; her attitude toward the doctor 
 seemed to be eminently that of approval, and the rest 
 realized that for all practical purposes her audience 
 was an audience of one. 
 
 " You don't know old Tim Tibbits, 't 's kind o' half 
 baked in the line o' bein' silly, I mean an' allus 
 aroun' in the woods, huntin' ? " 
 
 " Not yet," replied the doctor earnestly ; " I do not 
 know him yet" 
 
 " Wai', perhaps you won't be so anxious to make 
 his acquaintance after you hear what was told to me. 
 Cap'n Belcher swore it was true in ev'ry line an' precep' 
 of it, an' I leave him to his Judge, only tellin' of it as 
 he told me. 'T seems, one o' these 'ere religious agents,
 
 MRS. PROUTY OF PROUTY'S NECK 227 
 
 Church o' England this one must 'a' been wal', he lit 
 onto this region, prospectin' around, with his arms 
 full o' prayer an' hymnal books ; an' what should he do, 
 to get a sample o' the folks 'round here, but run afoul, 
 first thing, o' old Tim Tibbits hailin' out o' the bresh 
 with his gun slung over his shoulder. 
 
 " * Good-mornin', sir,' says the man, to Tim ; ' are 
 there any 'Piscopalians round here?' says he; 'an' 
 whar', ef you please, be they, sir? ' says he. 
 
 " * 'Piscopalians? ' says old Tim Tibbits who's allus 
 got to be good-natered an' oblige everybody, whether 
 he knows what they mean or not. * 'Piscopalians? 
 wal', now I think on it,' says he, scratchin' his old fool 
 of a head, c I did see somethin' queer over thar' by tKe 
 aidge o' Fin'ly's woods this mornin',' says he, ' but I 
 didn't fire. Yes,' says he, ' now I think on it, that must 
 'a' been it,' says he, an' grinned at him all over in his 
 obligin' way ; ' but I was goin' down to the store to sell 
 my skunks' fur, an' I never stopped to fire,' says he; 
 ' why, do you want one ? ' says he. 
 
 " ' No,' says the man an' walked on, an' wobbled his 
 coat tails direc' right out o' sight an' hearin' o' the 
 whole place, never stoppin' to exchange a word with 
 somebody 't was more 'n half-witted, so as to get a better 
 sample ; but lit right out ; an' how he'll spread it 'round 
 about us here, only the Lord knows; but as for me I 
 consider that our luck was poor, an' the sample, so fur 
 as I have any feelin's, one that I should never have 
 selected to have myself spread abroad by." 
 
 " Them that is ignorant won't have it laid to their 
 charge," said Mrs. Prouty of Prouty's Neck, solemnly. 
 
 " I s'pose not," said Caroline, " but I'd rather have
 
 228 POWER LOT 
 
 somethin' charged up ag'in me, and not be quite so 
 simple, I believe." 
 
 " It must 'a' been the same agent," continued Mrs. 
 Prouty, " that hove along thro' the Neck a spell ago ; 
 an' talkin' o' samples, Car'line, I doubt ef he took a 
 much better one off us, an' ef you got spread around 
 for your innercence we're likely spread fur an' wide 
 for our wickedness, him tumblin' first thing onto Rip 
 Wiz'll, an' askin' of him, ' Have you giv' yourself 
 to the Lord?' * Giv' myself to the Lord!' says Rip 
 Wiz'll, says he * who in nation is a-goin to do my 
 hayin?'" 
 
 " Bad as that is," said Caroline, surveying the rigid 
 expression of Mrs. Prouty's features without dismay, 
 and folding her own gloved hands elegantly ; " the's 
 somethin' cuter about it, after all, than the' is in the 
 sample we've gone out by." 
 
 " How long ye goin' to stay to Virginny's ? " Mrs. 
 Prouty inquired of Doctor Margate, in her severely 
 inquisitorial tone, turning to him without other warning. 
 
 Doctor Margate, quite unacquainted with the first 
 name of his hostess Mrs. Byjo was at a loss for an 
 instant, but made answer : 
 
 " Only a very short time, I regret to say, madam." 
 
 " Maybe it's as well," said Mrs. Prouty without 
 further explanation ; but Caroline knew that she referred 
 in this discreet way to the potency of her (Caroline's) 
 own charms amongst the male sex ; and she was neither 
 vexed thereby nor did she preen herself with vanity, 
 but remained as ever the serene queen of her own draw- 
 ing-room. 
 
 " Mary Stingaree's a girl," she murmured oppor-
 
 MRS. PROUTY OF PROUTY'S NECK 229 
 
 tunely, " that, cf you can't respec' her then who can 
 you respec' ? " 
 
 The company turned their thought of one accord 
 into the trend of Caroline's leading, save Mrs. Prouty, 
 who leaped regardless to a conclusion out of sight: 
 
 " You done mighty poorly, Robert Hilton," she said, 
 fixing her inflexible gaze on poor Rob. " From all 
 we hear to Prouty's Neck, ye've let them Tee-bos scoop 
 ye in. Ye're a shapely, pleasin' young man, an' ye ought 
 ter done better." 
 
 This challenge lying by way of severe reproach 
 untinged by condolence, Rob, having no defense pre- 
 pared, was about to let the case go by default, when 
 Doctor Margate fixed the redoubtable Mrs. Prouty with 
 an unflinching eye of his own ; so great was the kind- 
 ness of his expression, however, she forbore, for the 
 moment, to exercise her own tremendous and daring 
 habit of speech. 
 
 " Madam," he said, " pardon me for regarding you 
 with so persistent a look. I am trying to place you 
 among some members of royalty whom it was my good 
 fortune to see when I was last abroad. It is a 
 resemblance more than striking, it is phenomenal." 
 
 " You're gittin' 'em mixed up, Doctor Maggut," 
 interposed the indissolubly tranquil and sweet tones of 
 Caroline Treet; "that's Virginny Stafford you're 
 thinkin' of, not Mis' Prouty. Mis' Prouty's folks 
 wa'n't descended from nothin' as was ever heered 
 tell on." 
 
 " The most that can be said for 'em, on the Prouty 
 side, anyway," assented Mrs. Prouty, in full confirma- 
 tion of Caroline's words, " is, that they was a vary
 
 230 POWER LOT 
 
 triflin' lot. My mother's folks was, a considerable 
 number of 'em, law-abidin', stay-to-home people; but 
 the Proutys has got weak spots, which why should I 
 conceal when all the world knows? It use' to be said o* 
 Lob Prouty, my husband's father, and Biltmur Trcet, 
 Car'line's husban's father, that ef there'd been any 
 science known in them days as the' is now they might 
 V been smart men, pokin' into some kind o' science 't 
 'ud interested 'em maybe an' kep' 'em out o' mischief, 
 like new-fangled doctorin' an' universal' preachin' an' 
 goin' up in a balloon an' these machines that run with- 
 out no horses, an' what-not ; but as it was they hadn't 
 no outlet, an' gophered around here an' thar' over the 
 'arth that they was a cuss to, tell they dropped off o' 
 old age, a mercy to themselves an' them 't had to put 
 up with their everlastin' pryin' an' peevishness." 
 
 "We that have an outlet ought to be thankful 
 indeed," replied the doctor, and made no further effort 
 to compel or hypnotize the astounding force of Mrs. 
 Prouty of Prouty's Neck. 
 
 " Mis' Prouty's kind o' abrup'," Caroline explained 
 " but her heart's in the right place, ef we only know 
 whar 5 to look for it." 
 
 " Wai', I shan't deny you that, Car'line ; it's along o' 
 my husban' an' children an' the old home to Prouty's 
 Neck ; it ain't watchin' out f 'r to make a second ch'ice ; 
 not even ef Prouty was gone, men might hang around 
 me as thick as blueberries an' ask me on their knees, 
 they wouldn't git no 'ncouragement from me." 
 
 While Rob and the doctor realized the hopelessness of 
 the situation, Caroline remained blandly impervious to 
 the plain reprimand which had been hurled at her.
 
 MRS. PROUTY OF PROUTY'S NECK 231 
 
 "I believe you, Mis' Prouty," she rejoined; "the 
 wonder was that you married at all, considerin' the 
 smartness and independence o' your ways, an' men bein' 
 o' that kind that likes to keep the upper hand an' do the 
 bossin' their own selves. All women air not like you, Mis' 
 Prouty," said Caroline, with a look of the beautiful 
 clinging-vine sort toward the admiring doctor, " but 
 some enjoys themselves better to lean onto than to order 
 an' direc'. I say it freely, I'm one o' that kind that, ef 
 I take up with a man, I'd rather lean onto him than be 
 forever bossin' of him 'round; an', so long as my man 
 was above ground or out o' water, perhaps I'd ought 
 to say, for bein' seaf arin' he went by way o' water ; but, 
 afore God in his wisderm took him, I leaned onto him 
 whenever he was in port, that is." 
 
 " Git out o' here," Mrs. Prouty suddenly commanded 
 her two boys gravely, " an' see ef there's an air o' 
 wind stirrin'." But she spoke to empty places ; the 
 boys had slipped out some time before without either 
 her knowledge or approval. 
 
 "In my humble judgment," said Caroline, who had 
 taken an occasional outlook through the shutters, 
 " they've made tracks for home along shore. I've raised 
 boys, and I know their ways. They didn't set contented 
 one minute whilst they was in the Room." 
 
 " It's eight miles 'round the shore," exclaimed Mrs. 
 Prouty, and then sighed heavily, " Wai', I don't know 's 
 I blame 'em." 
 
 " And thar's Dan Prouty, now," said Caroline, in a 
 discerning voice, " sailing' straight into the Basin." 
 
 Mrs. Prouty rose promptly. " I'll be down thar', 
 time he lands," she said. " All of present company, and
 
 232 POWER LOT 
 
 none excepted, I shall be glad to see you over to Prouty's 
 Neck." She shook hands all 'round as if a solemn com- 
 mitment of fate hung over every individual there 
 present. 
 
 " I feel pleased to think ye clum' the hill to see me," 
 Caroline assured her; " ye're allus welcome, and the 
 sooner the better." 
 
 " You was allus my favorite among the girls, 
 Car'line," said Mrs. Prouty, surveying her as though 
 she would recall that lost soul from its flirtatious 
 designs to better things. 
 
 Rob and the doctor also made their exit from the 
 Room. 
 
 " I am going back to the safe charms of Mary Stin- 
 garee and Mrs. Stafford," said the doctor to Rob at the 
 gate. " Mary has refused me, and Mrs. Stafford would 
 not want me, anyway; but Mrs. Prouty and Caroline 
 Treet are dangerous in the way they interest a man." 
 
 Rob giggled. 
 
 " I don't know," continued the doctor gravely, 
 " whether I wanted most to subjugate Mrs. Prouty or 
 stand as the oak for Caroline Treet to lean upon, but 
 these are unbecoming thoughts. I little knew what was 
 impending when you called my attention to the beckon- 
 ing of those black kid gloves. And the Room, too. The 
 salons of old and luxurious civilizations have not so 
 absorbing an atmosphere. I am going back to sit with 
 Mary and Mrs. Stafford on the porch, and gaze off on 
 the sentinel bluffs and the vast outlying ocean." 
 
 The doctor did not once smile. It occurred to Rob 
 that where he himself saw lots of fun, and gave in 
 return the utmost of kindly sympathy, the great man
 
 MRS. PROUTY OF PROUTY'S NECK 233 
 
 saw spheres of individual existence moving still with 
 sublime accord in their eccentric orbits, and stood awed 
 and touched before the spectacle. A certain pique of 
 satisfaction was in Rob's soul, that he should have in- 
 troduced the doctor by chance to so choice an interview. 
 
 " Well, I'll stroll on and see some more of my friends," 
 said Rob. 
 
 '* More ? " said the doctor, turning a backward look 
 on the bright young face. " Well, you have them, and 
 they have you ; and of such is the kingdom 
 
 The last low words escaped Rob as he marched on, 
 smiling.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 SKIPPER'S WIFE AND HHODY 
 
 ROB could smile, for though Mary Stingaree was out of 
 his reach, no one else had won her; even the celebrated 
 Margate had come a-courting in vain. Sordid life had 
 bound him, and he was a fighter of beasts, but now for 
 a little space he roamed kingdom-free in his own 
 imaginings. 
 
 A little old woman standing on the top rail of a 
 picket fence, her wrinkled face young with good fellow- 
 ship, gathering lilacs of the choicest out of the reach 
 of the common herd in honor of his approach this 
 met his eye, and he rushed to her. 
 
 " But, Mother Skipper," he gasped, taking her in 
 his arms, " you must not, you might fall." He put 
 her tenderly down to earth. Her arms were full of 
 rare bunches of lilacs, and she did not care. " Pooh," 
 she remarked, " I'm spry" 
 
 Skipper himself, rigging up the well-sweep near at 
 hand, laughed indulgently. 
 
 " You, Rob Hilton," he exclaimed, " runnin' an' hug- 
 gin' a ga'l, jest as soon as ye clap eyes on her. Me, all 
 over what I use* ter be afore rheumatiz got holt 
 of me." 
 
 " I know it," Rob answered, " but what are you going 
 to do when some are so handsome you can't help your- 
 self, and so spry " he added " that you'd have hard 
 work to catch them." 
 
 234
 
 SKIPPER'S WIFE AND RHODY 235 
 
 " Land sakes alive," said Mrs. Skipper, with pleas- 
 ant disgust, " ef you two don't make a pair." 
 
 " Spry ! " echoed Skipper wistfully ; " why, I'm 
 eighty, and when the rheumatiz ain't on me I c'n jump 
 up, yit, an' hit my heels tergether three times 'fore I 
 tetch to 'arth." 
 
 " The last time's gittin' to sound kind o' faint, 
 though, Skipper," said his wife, with conscientious 
 literalness. 
 
 " Mebby you're gittin' a little deef ? " 
 
 " No, I'm extry good o' hearin', as you know well, 
 Skipper. How much could you hear with the wads o' 
 cotton-battin that I' got stuffed inter my ears? Whilst 
 to me the sound only comes pleasanter it's too loud 
 when I don't have my wads in." 
 
 Skipper admitted the truth of this with a look of 
 proud confirmation directed toward Rob. 
 
 " Somebody a-preachin' to the River split her ear- 
 drums with his chantey," he explained, " and she's wore 
 them breakwaters in her ears ever sence." 
 
 " It wa'n't his chantey, Skipper ; 'twas his prayin'." 
 
 " Chantey or prayin', what's the odds? he stunted 
 ye with his racket," mildly continued Skipper, in full 
 explanation. 
 
 " He done it to alarm souls," proceeded Mrs. Skipper, 
 in grave extenuation of the offense which had smitten 
 her own acute sense so grievously ; " an' some there was 
 that needed it " she regarded Skipper contemplatively 
 never accusingly " but they was not there. Only 
 them was there that had been alarmed long ago and 
 got all settled down after it, and the wrong way was 
 took with 'em ; all that was there felt it."
 
 236 POWER LOT 
 
 " She ain't been down to meet'n sence," said Skipper, 
 in a tone of great self-congratulation. 
 
 " But I aint give up the Lord, Skipper. I hold my 
 own communin's, an' I keep the Sabbath day stricter 'n 
 what I ever did, or than any does that goes down to 
 meetin'. I seen some tourists trompin' around on the 
 beach last Sunday, an' it made my heart ache to think 
 o* sech a dessic'ation. My folks was meetin'-going 
 folks, an' ef we don't hang on to our principles where 
 be we? High water or low, gale or ca'm, there's 
 nothin' could tempt me to go explorin* around on the 
 beach on the Sabbath Day." 
 
 Rob, who never failed of a Sunday ramble along 
 shore; and Skipper, who stole on that day of sacred 
 observance as lovingly to the surf as if it had been his 
 father and his mother both hung their heads silently, 
 though not without a sense of pride in Mrs. Skipper's 
 facile walk among the religious proprieties, and a 
 marvel at those moral distinctions, so dim to them, which 
 she so well knew how to define ; above all, a hidden hope, 
 perhaps, of holding on by her skimpy little old-fashioned 
 skirts for a smuggled passage through those final 
 spiritual reckonings where she was so safe and they 
 so wide and tumultuously at sea. 
 
 " Ache an' pain, pain an* ache, beat an* throb, throb 
 an* beat, an' sometimes roll an' toss," said Skipper, 
 changing the subject, and pathetically stroking his 
 knees " toss an' roll " 
 
 " Ye sleep like a log, Skipper," Mrs. Skipper cor- 
 rected him gently. 
 
 " You don't know what I suffer sometimes in the 
 middle o' the night," said Skipper, his exceeding young
 
 SKIPPER'S WIFE AND RHODY 237 
 
 and beautiful eyes wandering with a wild plaintiveness 
 toward the horizon of mingled sea and sky. 
 
 " Ye never felt so much as yer conscience vexin' of 
 ye, Skipper, but what ye'd wake me up an' start me for 
 the camfire bottle. But women is better sufferers 'n 
 men, as all the worl' knows." 
 
 " She took on dretful, dretful, when our only darter 
 died," said Skipper to Rob meaningly ; " we was af eard 
 she'd lose her reason. Wai', wal'," he went on tenderly 
 withdrawing his eyes from Mrs. Skipper's downcast 
 face, " I've had ter do it, Rob. Come the season, I 
 couldn't stan' it no longer. I've got me a boat and I've 
 been a-painting an' ballas'in' of her." 
 
 " He's too old," said Mrs. Skipper, a still deeper 
 gloom enshadowing her countenance as she shook her 
 head. 
 
 " Old 'r young, I know how ter manage a boat, an' I 
 couldn't stan' it no longer, a man 't 's been the dog 
 I've been on the water! I've got my trawl geared up 
 with a thousand hooks, an' I'm goin' ter bait 'em next 
 Monday an' make out through the Gut ag'in." 
 
 " It's in his blood, an' nothin' '11 rest him of it tell he 
 heaves up his las' sigh. His father an' his gran'father 
 was skippers afore him. Wal', ef that's the way he is 
 to go, why, so it must be." 
 
 " Do ye know o* any other way to git to the fishin' 
 grounds ? " inquired the old skipper of his wife, in all 
 simplicity, lifting eyes of skyey candor from a weather- 
 beaten countenance. 
 
 " I meant something else," she said significantly and 
 solemnly. " Ye know I wouldn't feel so bad about it ef 
 ye'd only been dipped."
 
 238 POWER LOT 
 
 "Good Tunket wife. First ye're afeard I'll git 
 drowned, an' then ye want me dipped. Le's take the 
 water 's it comes. F'r my part I think it's 'hullsomer ter 
 be salt, an' enough of it," cried the innocent old sea- 
 dog buoyantly. " Let alone o' the mux in that ol' 
 Baptis' tank, Mother, an' le's take the water whatever 
 way God A'mighty's mind ter send it." 
 
 Rob gave his helpless giggle. 
 
 Mrs. Skipper's sad face broke up a little, indulgently. 
 " Wai', anyways," she said, " I believe 't Grace '11 save 
 him, somehow. It saves ter the utterm'st, an' I believe 
 it '11 retch down an' git a-holt o' Skipper, somehow." 
 It was plain that she had no intention of putting out on 
 any sea, celestial or terrestrial, without her Skipper. 
 
 " Sure ! " responded that scion of perdition kindly ; 
 " don't ye fret no more about it, Mother. Ain't ye 
 goin' ter treat Rob to some buttermilk?" 
 
 Rob was still a famous drinker, according to his new 
 lights. Spring water, milk, buttermilk, all was fish 
 that came to his net ; and the depth of the draught was 
 mainly determined by the copiousness of the source of 
 supply. 
 
 " My sakes, it's a pleasure to see ye guzzle," beamed 
 Mrs. Skipper, looking up as at the splendid throat of 
 an ox while Rob drained the pitcher of buttermilk. 
 " Come into the garding," she continued, giving out 
 gratefully to the utmost of her hospitality, " le's see 
 what we can do for ye there. Laylocks is purty, but 
 they're kind o' common; they ain't like garding-raised 
 flowers." 
 
 " Fix him up purty, Mother," Skipper called after 
 them without stint or jealousy. Mrs. Skipper stood
 
 SKIPPER'S WIFE AND RHODY 239 
 
 in the tall grass in her flower garden ; many of the 
 flowers were hidden by the grass, but some tall " de- 
 lilahs " and " pineys " held their own. She plucked sev- 
 eral of the grandest specimens for Rob, who had the 
 great good sense to know that the little old woman 
 was, herself, the sweetest flower standing there. 
 
 But he had another heart's love farther on; and 
 so, with a tender adieu to Mrs. Skipper, his hands 
 embarrassed with a riches of laylocks, pineys, and 
 delilahs, he tramped on his picturesque way. 
 
 And now at his approach looked up gladly little 
 Rhody Ditmarse, eight years old, and plain as sorrow, 
 with a temporary absence of front teeth, and an old- 
 world gravity of care resting on her small snubbed 
 face. 
 
 She sat on the Ditmarse doorstep, barefoot, her brown 
 briar-scratched but sturdy legs plainly adapted for 
 that toilsome and trial-beset path in life which they in 
 all probability were destined to run. 
 
 " Hello, Rob," she cried, and the grin she gave him 
 through her exposed gums declared openly as day that 
 her heart was in his keeping. 
 
 " Hello, Rhody," replied Rob, with reciprocal af- 
 fection. "I see you've got the cows home and the 
 work all done up." 
 
 She nodded sagely. " Red Suke's gittin' to be a 
 breecher," she said. Rob knew that this meant a cow 
 that jumped and broke fences, and he received the news 
 with sympathy. " But Father says he's goin' ter rig 
 up a poke on her ter-morrer 't '11 fix her so she won't 
 jump no more fences." 
 
 Rob was sitting on the doorstep at Rhody's side by
 
 240 POWER LOT 
 
 this time, and the little girl put up her hand and whis- 
 pered confidentially: 
 
 "Mother an* Father 's a-havin* words inside tharV 
 The sound of voices in the kitchen indicated that they 
 were not only having words, but loud ones. 
 
 " Mother says Grammer's goin' ter come here ter 
 live, an' Father says she ain't neither but Mother can 
 beat Father ev'ry time," sighed little Rhody content- 
 edly ; " an' Grammer c'n come, I guess, pore, lonesome, 
 ol' crittur." Rhody's tone was such a faithful repro- 
 duction of the whine of some charitable elder, and her 
 face was that of so confirmed a bearer of life's bur- 
 dens, Rob actually felt a sense of edification in her 
 presence. 
 
 " She c'n come, pore, lonesome, ol' crittur an' she 
 c'n have my plate with the red mountings an' blue 
 catarack painted onto it." 
 
 " It must be a beautiful plate," said Rob. 
 
 " Grammer giv' it to me when I was borned, an' it's 
 only fa'r she sh'd have it back ag'in. Ef God '11 
 give me vittles," continued Rhody, evidently quoting 
 from the paternal wisdom in this instance, " ef God '11 
 give me vittles, I don't care what kind o' a tub I snout 
 'em out of." 
 
 " My heavens, Rhody," gasped Rob, " how you do 
 remember sayings for a young one." 
 
 " What ye goin' ter do with yer pineys an* delilahs? " 
 observed Rhody, eying those splendid blooms with the 
 moderate spirit of one who can admire without coveting. 
 
 " I'm going to give some to you," said Rob, at once 
 holding out a pair to her, " and half of my lilacs." 
 
 "Ye'd better keep yer laylocks ef ye favor 'em,"
 
 SKIPPER'S WIFE AND RHODY 241 
 
 said Rhody, showing a disposition to accept only the 
 rarer bloom ; " they're common as sheep-weed 'round 
 here. Bet ye," she suddenly challenged him, with a 
 grin, for the dome of her thought was Shakespearean 
 and embraced romping joy, as well as stern delibera- 
 tion and bravely sustained sorrow ; " bet ye a candy 
 suckker I c'n tech Pompey Rock afore you kin." 
 
 The young man and the little girl sprang to their 
 feet and ran like victims of spasmodic insanity pursued 
 by the furies, down the bluffs, over fences, down steeper 
 bluifs, scampering out to where the tide had left Pom- 
 pey's Rock as the solemn and tremendous goal of their 
 endeavors. 
 
 Of course Rhody touched it first, Rob looked out for 
 that, and made a great show of panting forth his 
 humiliation and defeat. 
 
 "Tuckered?" grinned the little girl. "I ain't 
 tuckered a mite. Wai'," she sighed thoughtfully, " I 
 had my spree, an' now I must go beatin' in to'ds home 
 or they'll be settin' up a pelly-loo for me." 
 
 "What is that?" said Rob, as a humble inquirer 
 and unashamed, for Rhody ever imparted her wisdom 
 generously, with no hint of scorn for the unenlightened. 
 
 " A pelly-loo is a screech, or a yawlin', or a bawlin', 
 ary one," said she. 
 
 Rob pressed the penny for a candy sucker into her 
 hand. "You won the bet, Rhody." 
 
 " Ye needn't ter pay it, Rob. Bettin' is only jest 
 f'r fun. Ef you'd a-tetched Pompey's 'fore I did, I 
 couldn't a paid ye, for I didn't hev no penny." She 
 handed it back, but Rob looked hurt and shook his 
 head.
 
 243 POWER LOT 
 
 " Ef I keep it," continued Rhody, closing a very 
 hard, red little fist over it, " it won't go for no suckker : 
 it* 11 go to'ds gittin' me a meetin' hat." 
 
 "What! no suckker after all?" 
 
 " No ; I'd ruther have one, Rob but Mother told 
 Father I'd git damd like the heathin ef I didn't hev 
 no meetin' hat purty soon. She said I'd never heern 
 tell o' sech a thing as a Lord's Supper." 
 
 " Well, I don't know I don't want to dispute your 
 mother, and I don't know much about it," said Rob 
 reflectively ; " but, somehow, I should think, you're 
 so generous, and work so hard for your folks, and such 
 a little girl, too, and giving your grandmother your 
 own plate with the mountains and the cataract, and all ; 
 and there's a kind of a spirit about you, Rhody I 
 can't explain but I, honest, believe if God had a 
 supper table he'd want you to sit right near to him 
 at it, honest, I do." 
 
 " Ye'd ought ter know," said Rhody meditatively, 
 " fr ye come from New Yar-r-rk. But I wouldn't care 
 where I set to the supper, Rob," she added, with entire 
 conscientiousness, " so long as I set alongside o' you." 
 
 " Same here," replied Rob, really deeply interested 
 in the subject, and with a gravity as thoughtful as 
 Rhody's own. 
 
 " S'posin' ye should spy me out in hell ? " continued 
 the fearless Rhody, whose mental range, as has been 
 said, was Shakespearean, and who stuck at no finical 
 barriers of ultra polite English, " s'posin' ye* sh'd spy 
 me out in hell, Rob, what'd ye do? " 
 
 "Well, I guess you know very well, Rhody, I'd 
 work day and night to get you out."
 
 SKIPPER'S WIFE AND RHODY 243 
 
 Yes," said Rhody f aithfully, " I bet ye would." 
 
 " And what," said Rob, following Rhody's trail along 
 these novel theological altitudes, " what if you were in 
 the other place and I was in hell for, sharp though 
 they are in New York, they might get there, you know 
 what would you do ? " 
 
 "Wai', ef my own wings was growed," said Rhody, 
 her plain blue eyes fairly ecstatic with this untram- 
 meled flight of her imagination, " I'd dive straight 
 down an' git ye myself. But, ef I'm settin' 'round 
 thar' moultin', I'd make sech a pelly-loo that them 
 full-growed angels wouldn't git no peace tell they dove 
 down an' hove ye up onto their wings an' fetched ye up 
 safet and sound. I'd raise ' Snakes an' Tophit'," said 
 the excited Rhody, again choosing a gem from the 
 paternal language, " tell they started ter go down an' 
 fetch ye, Rob." 
 
 Thus mutually secure in the dark mazes of the here 
 and the hereafter, the comrades parted, Rhody making 
 homeward, and Rob continuing his path along the 
 beach; for even yet the sun had not reached its 
 setting.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE AUCTION 
 
 APPROACHING the River settlement, Rob heard and 
 saw an auction in progress, and he hastened on, con- 
 gratulating himself that he had stumbled, perchance, 
 on a new scene of activity. Never since his arrival 
 in the country had he beheld so heartily numerous a 
 company gathered together. 
 
 Captain Belcher as auctioneer was unwearied. 
 
 " How much for Daisy Lee comin' yander, with all 
 his bokays throwed in," he declaimed, low, Rob not yet 
 within hearing. So Rob dawned good-naturedly upon 
 the laughing company, unaware that he was the fresh 
 cause of their mirth. But the fist that clasped Mrs. 
 Skipper's lilacs had now a well-earned reputation for 
 prowess, and Captain Belcher, with discreetly veiled 
 sarcasm, lifted his hat as Rob leaned on the fence 
 in close proximity to the scene. 
 
 " Mr. Hilton, ladies and gents, ef the little birds 
 carries their tales true, is not allus goin* to be a mar- 
 ried bachelder, but is goin' to stock up a home. He 
 has arrove jest in time ter bid off this beautiful lemon 
 squeezer. Now honeymoons is sweet but some sweet, 
 some sour, that's the way ter mix it; an' anybody 
 calkerlatin' on a honeymoon wants just sech a lemon 
 squeezer as this right handy. Start 'er up, somebody. 
 What 'm I bid? Look a-here ain't ye ever had yer 
 girl mix ye up a glarss o' lemonade some hot July 
 344
 
 THE AUCTION 245 
 
 evenln', an* swallered down ten to a dozen seeds along 
 'ith what flies an' June-bugs the' was huvverin' 'round? 
 I have. Great Tamarack, ef swallerin' lemon seeds 
 an' sech truck perduces 'penderceters the wonder is 
 I ain't been toted back ter the States long ergo ter be 
 operated on an' into my marble tomb. But here ye 
 have it. No danger, this 'ere lemon squeezer is its own 
 seed-retainer, simplerfied magic 'namel screw, Ederson 
 patent, never-rust, geared-up, all-endurin' good Lord, 
 ain't nobody here calkerlatin' on a honeymoon? Start 
 'er up. What 'm I offered? " 
 
 " Five cents," declared an angry and aggressive 
 voice. Rob glanced in the direction whence proceeded 
 that familiar snarl and saw Bate, standing at Cuby's 
 side; and Cuby's eyes flamed wrath at Rob. So, 
 thought Rob, Bate had told Cuby that he (Rob) had 
 attacked him for the brotherly admonition he had found 
 it necessary to give his sister Mary that would be 
 Bate's way of explaining it ; and Cuby's soul was 
 consumed with jealousy and hate. 
 
 The smile that had been beaming broadly on Rob's 
 face left it, and a look of bewilderment and sick dis- 
 gust took its place. But he strode manfully down to 
 Cuby's side, nearer the auction tables, whose motley 
 contents were revealed to the open air and the wonder- 
 ing crowd. 
 
 " Shall I bid for it, Cuby? " he said, lifting his hat 
 to her and conquering himself to smile as one who was 
 glad to be near her and proud to own her. " I will 
 bid for it, too. Ten cents," he shouted. 
 
 " Fifteen," cried Bate malignantly. 
 
 " Twenty," again shouted Rob, and Cuby's unsof-
 
 246 POWER LOT 
 
 tcned eyes yet gleamed with satisfaction. She was 
 asserting in public view her power as enchantress and 
 fostering a quarrel between two apparent suitors for 
 her charms, and her head was held high. 
 
 " Twenty-five," screamed Bate, whose voice in pas- 
 sion took on the nature of some devouring bird of 
 the air. 
 
 " Thirty," Rob's tones grew more clear and boyish 
 by reason of the stress of warfare. 
 
 "Thirty-five," came the answering scream. 
 
 At " Fifty " Rob paused and said reasonably, aloud, 
 " Say, we can get a fine new one for less than that, 
 Cuby. What's the use in being silly? Let Bate have 
 the old thing if he wants it." 
 
 A merry cheer went up, and it was for Rob and the 
 plain dictates of common sense. 
 
 But Cuby saw it otherwise. Bate, for private rancor, 
 would have bid to the end of time: possessing nothing, 
 he would at least have maintained the attitude of a 
 squanderer, as quenchless in his determination as in 
 his hate. She saw it in the light of her own personal 
 triumph and defense, which Rob flatly refused in the 
 sight of all men to continue further, as though the 
 game were not worth the candle. 
 
 She stamped her foot. "You are a miser and a 
 cow-ar-r-rd," she cried. " I want not your company 
 with me. Go you to them w'at likes makin' company 
 with a fool." 
 
 Rob, whiter than chalk, again lifted his hat to her, 
 and with dignity: 
 
 " No man calls me a coward, Cuby. Perhaps you'll 
 think better of it when you are not so angry." He
 
 THE AUCTION 247 
 
 joined the group by the fence again. Public sentiment 
 was on his side, to his wonder; and by chance, as it 
 seemed to him, for he was no diplomatist. 
 
 Meanwhile, Captain Belcher stood with uplifted 
 lemon squeezer and open mouth expressive of absorbing 
 interest. As the public eye reverted to him once more 
 he rose equal to the occasion. 
 
 " Turns with a crank, crank, crank," he exclaimed 
 jubilantly, waving the lemon squeezer high in air. " I 
 been inspectin' of 'er, and I find she turns with a crank. 
 Duplex cushion springs. Wireless triple screw. Mac- 
 carony system she ain't no old side-wheeler, this 
 lemon squeezer ain't. Ah now, if it was only a girl- 
 squeezer." 
 
 Roars of merriment applauded his wit and drowned 
 his puissant voice, reverberating from the bluffs and 
 the region beyond and far down the River road; here 
 in the River settlement itself joy shrieked aloud and 
 spent itself in an ecstasy of uncontrollable mirth, while 
 on the other hand the far-sounding beaches stretched 
 away in solemn wonder. Belcher himself was solemn ; 
 that his wit was keen he realized, but such excess of 
 laughter recalled him with an imperturbable gravity 
 to the business in hand. 
 
 " Do I hear another bid? " he asked. " Be you all 
 done on the lemon squeezer? Goin', goin', an' gone 
 at fifty cents to Bate Stingaree." 
 
 A subdued howl now of derisive laughter, greeted 
 Bate. Angry was he beyond all utterance. " Come, 
 Cuby," he muttered, " let's leave this gang o' cackling 
 idjits." Angry past utterance was Cuby. There was 
 but one scornful and revengeful thing left for her to
 
 248 POWER LOT 
 
 do, and that was to go away with Bate, and she turned 
 by this method to flaunt her contempt in the eyes of tho 
 company. Rob was now in the position of a man 
 despised and insulted openly, and pitying looks fell 
 upon him. Life was too intricate for Rob, so low- 
 fallen, to study the matter out; only, so far as he 
 knew, he meant to play the man. 
 
 " Don't go away with him, Cuby," he said, catching 
 up with her ; " people won't think fair of you if you 
 do this; they'll think ill of you, and you do not 
 deserve it." 
 
 " Go mind you your own bus-i-ness," she replied 
 passionately; "you you poor half-a-fool laylock 
 thi'f." 
 
 " Great heavens, Cuby, Mrs. Skipper gave me the 
 lilacs, and I've brought them to you. Won't you take 
 them? " He held them out earnestly. Cuby, with a 
 quick disdainful flash of her hand, dashed them to 
 earth. 
 
 "Take them to Ma'y Sting'ree," she cried, "w'at 
 make a laugh at you. Or that seelly one that they call 
 * Car'line,' or ol' Mis' Skippaire, or dar-r-rty little 
 Rhode, w'at goes call the cows home bare-laiggit. Go 
 you to them with your ol' steenkin' flowers go." 
 
 She left him blighted. For his wits were slow, sure 
 enough: they were mighty good wits, but they were 
 slow. But Mrs. Skipper's lilacs he could not leave 
 those in the dust. He gathered them up. 
 
 '* Say, but ain't he fond o' flowers, though," com- 
 mented a voice from the audience ; " ain't he kind o' 
 sof, though, f'r sech a thunderin' big, squar'-shoul- 
 dered buck."
 
 THE AUCTION 249 
 
 With smarting cheeks, and still holding the lilacs, 
 Rob returned to his post of observation at the auction. 
 For some moments his cheeks burned and his eyes were 
 downcast. Then, two baby girls of his discursive ac- 
 quaintance among the hills, let loose by their compas- 
 sionate mother, toddled over to him and grasped the 
 calves of his legs. He stooped and picked them up, 
 one on each arm, where they sat loftily perched with 
 a visible contempt for all past weary and fretful tug- 
 ging at their mother's skirts. 
 
 " The kind creetur', the' ain't no harm to him, / 
 don't believe," whispered one woman to her neighbor, 
 " standin' thar' as patient as a ox lashed to a plow 
 with his arms full o' babies an' laylocks." 
 
 With the accession of the babies, who seemed to have 
 come indirectly to alleviate and share his ruth and 
 confusion, Rob quite lost his abashed self -consciousness, 
 and began to experience renewed interest in the lively 
 proceedings of the auctioneer. 
 
 " What we got here ? " queried Belcher, in his tones 
 of cheerful thunder. " Pair o' han'some, han'painted, 
 half-tint, full-tone, storm rubbers. Waltham movement, 
 wheelbarrow action, warranted not ter run down at 
 the toe new when they was first made. Start 'em 
 up, somebody. Infermation from the weather bureau 
 states 't the sun is goin' ter set to-night, same as usual, 
 no pos'ponement on account o' this auction. Wake up, 
 you folks thar', or the foolish virgins '11 git their ile- 
 cans filled an' ketch ye nappin'. Now look here, what 'm 
 I bid? No lampblack an' sugar in them rubbers 
 them's straight gum the kind mother use' ter wear 
 what me an' little brother use' ter take holt, me
 
 250 POWER LOT 
 
 at the toe an' him at the heel, an' stretch clean acrost 
 the kitchen floor but when one eend let go, then look 
 out ! Holes in 'em ? Sure. A hole in each one to put 
 yer foot into. Pass 'em 'round an' see if ye can find 
 any more. 
 
 " Whilst the rubbers is goin' 'round what 'm I bid 
 on this beautiful asbestos pad? " 
 
 " 'Tain't a pad," interposed a scornful feminine 
 voice ; " it's a tea-stand." 
 
 "S-s-sh," pleaded the powerful Belcher; "she's 
 a-goin' as a pad. Five cent six cent and knocked 
 down to Sammy Pine at six cent as a pad. You'll 
 be all right next winter, Sammy; the' won't no wind 
 peel through you. 
 
 " Hurry up with them rubbers. Mis' Bowles wants 
 time to borry Mis' Henfry's glasses an' take a look? 
 All right, then. What we got here? Spat for turnin' 
 griddlecakes an' spankin' the young ones, turn an' turn 
 about. What 'm I bid? One cent two cent two 
 cent an' gone to Ephri'm Horn at two cent. Good 
 f'r you, Ephri'm. Ye get squeezed dry on yer taxes 
 every year, thirty cent for yer poll an' thirty-three 
 cent fr yer 'sessment an' prop'ty tax; but, by Gum, 
 ye got a cheap griddle spat ter make up for it. Now 
 all ye want is a good-sized mess o' young ones tcr 
 spank, Ephri'm, elset that spat '11 be layin' idle half 
 the time. 
 
 "What ye doin' with them rubbers? Mis' Bowles is 
 inspectin' of 'em? waP, all right. Now, look a-here. 
 Jest lift yer eyes to this interestin' fine-tooth comb. 
 This 'ere comb's got a history ef we was a mind ter 
 look into it, an' spite o' the years she's seen an' 'er
 
 THE AUCTION 251 
 
 many wanderin's, she's jist as keen as ever this old 
 comb is for followin' and pursuin' whatever ought 
 ter be pursued. Why, she'd make tracks anywhar's, 
 straight hair or curly, Chinee, Japanee, Squ-gee, or 
 Feejee. Mister Hilton, drop them infant cherribs an' 
 yer bokays a minute, an' step down here, please, an' 
 show 'em what this 'ere heirloom, sooveneer, Philadel- 
 phy centennial, fine-tooth comb can do to'ds surveyin' 
 a road through them extry-ply, three-strand, war- 
 ranted five hundred yards to a spool, silk-wove, cotton- 
 back, plush-finish, goldin' locks o' yourn." 
 
 The multitude laughed, and Rob laughed gayest of 
 all. (It was a long time since Rob had been at a 
 theater.) The little girls mounted on his shoulders 
 laughed and crowed in sympathy. 
 
 " Challinge not accepted," shouted Belcher victori- 
 ously. " Merits o' the article proved. What 'm I bid? 
 One cent one cent one cent an' gone to Ephri'm 
 Horn at one cent. All right, Ephri'm, only don't 
 lose sight o' yer taxes whilst ye're layin' in this 'ere 
 charmin' mess o 1 curios. Duty first, Ephri'm, an* 
 dude afterwards. 
 
 " Heave them rubbers over here. Split in the sides ? 
 They done it laughin' then. Who wants a happy, 
 cheerful, tickle-yer-ribs, consolin' pair o' rubbers 't 
 have split their sides a-laughin'? Joy for the wounded 
 sperrit, sunshine f'r rainy days, hope when the flour- 
 barrel's low, faith when the sink-spout's clogged, peace 
 when the pig gets ketched in the fence what 'm I bid? 
 What? What? Ye don't want 'em, eh? Ye want 
 ter go 'round low-sperrited with a mug on ye like a 
 kite too heavy geared ter wobble up off the 'arth, eh?
 
 252 POWER LOT 
 
 No bid at all f'r these 'ere smilin', beckonin', welcome- 
 all, weddin' bell peal, orange peel, cherry pie, cream 
 tart, layer-cake rubbers, eh? 'T's enough ter make 
 a man weep, ef he didn't have these rubbers right afore 
 him splittin' their sides a-laughin' ; I'll keep these 'ere 
 consolers right afore me f'r the present whilst I rum- 
 mage around here an' find somethin' fit ter put up for 
 sech a raft o' owls as you be to bid on. 
 
 " Here ye are. Jest what ye' re achin' for. Here's 
 somethin' next thing to a caskit here's a enlarged 
 photergraph all framed in pine-needles o' old Sol 
 Sloper himself, gran'father, as ye all know, to the man 
 what's havin' this auction. Look at them featur's, will 
 ye? Ef ye want ter fill yer house with melancholly 
 here's somethin' 't '11 stock ye up, parlor, settin'-room, 
 anty-room, kitchen, attic, cellar, hen-coop, an' enough 
 left to go under the bed. He screwed a lot o' money 
 out er poor folks in his day, old Sol did, an' that 'ar 
 mouth o' his'n '11 put ye in mind o' the stummickache 
 an' the hole in yer pocket every time ye look at it. An' 
 as f'r that 'ar nose o' his'n " 
 
 " Belay thar'," cried a voice. 
 
 "What's up, Sol? " said the auctioneer firmly. 
 
 "Lay that picter aside. 'T got inter the mess by 
 mistake." 
 
 " Same old tricks," sighed Belcher reminiscently ; 
 " old Sol was alias pokin' his nose in whar' there was 
 a penny ter be made. But I'll lay him to one side. It's 
 my rewl to speak well o' them that's passed on, however 
 pizen-mean they was; an* 'tain't reelly the respec'ful 
 caper ter auction off yer fam'ly art gall'ry, Sol, though 
 I don't wonder at yer not wantin' ter take that ol' life-
 
 WHO WANTS A HAPPY, CHEERFUL, TICKLE-YER RIBS, 
 CONSOLIV PAIR 'O RUBBERS?"
 
 THE AUCTION 253 
 
 size presenterment o' misery an' gloom along with ye 
 on the boat; no knowin' when ye might strike bot- 
 tom " 
 
 " It got in thar' by mistake, I say. Hustle up with 
 yer business, Belcher. I hired ye to auction off, not 
 ter stand thar' an' parley-voo." 
 
 " Now, Sol, ef it hadn't been f'r my parley-voo, 
 keepin' folks good-natered an' blindin' of 'em to the 
 wuthlessness o' the goods, you'd 'a' had the durndest 
 mess o' ruck here ter load up an' pitch over into the 
 dump ; an' my conscience, 'stead o' bein' heavy an' 
 deceitful, 'd 'a' been as light-hearted as these ol' gigglin' 
 rubbers " 
 
 " Say, you go ahead with yer work ef you want 
 yer pay." 
 
 " Correct. The sun has laid her pink-ruffled, rosy- 
 fluted nightcap onto the piller o' rest all ready to 
 put on the minute she's set the buckwheat cakes to 
 raise, an' the codfish' to soak, an' wound the clock, an' 
 turned in. Pigs is squealin' from the pen, cows is 
 mooin' from the pastur'. Hand me over that thar' 
 bedquilt; let's heave the rest o' this tangled, loonatic- 
 asylum, crow's nest lot o' truck into 'er, an' call it a 
 mess. Here we be a whole quilt full. What 'm I 
 bid? Sight unseen treasures o' the mine, gems o' 
 the ocean, products o' man's inventive natur' the world 
 over swell-bodied pickle dish, Aunt Lucindy's hymn 
 book, crock o' tallow fat, tin lantern with one hinge 
 on, fact'ry-turned butter print representin' five mice 
 an' a dung-shovel, cullender f'r strainin' squash with 
 the bottom right handy to it all ready to be soddered 
 in, harf a spoonholder patterned arfter the tower o'
 
 254 POWER LOT 
 
 Babble, lots o' little pieces o' ch'ice imported East 
 Chelsy china jest fit to milk the ducks into all here 
 an' I ain't begun ter name 'em. Start 'er up, some- 
 body. What 'm I bid? Seven cent ten cent my 
 kingdom come, you folks want the 'arth for nothin'? 
 
 " Jest let me show ye take this 'ere quilt full, an' 
 tie 'er up, so-fashion, an' when ye git 'er home, nail 
 'er up to the beam, an' stan' off an' strike 'er with a 
 mawlet, an' she'll make a rattle that 'ud stop the yop 
 of a whole houseful o' bawlin' babies an' put 'em ter 
 sleep in no time. What 'm I bid for this 'ere 'riginal, 
 long-pendulum, gigantical, cyclone-avalanche, dyna- 
 mite, thunder an' lightnin', Niagry baby-rattler? 
 Twelve cent thirteen cent fifteen cent fifteen fif- 
 teen an' gone to Mis' Homer Millet at fifteen cent. 
 An' well done, say I. Now then, meetin's broke up. 
 Thank ye for yer kind attention. Farewell. Adew 
 an' all the rest o' the s'ciety trimmin's." 
 
 But the excitement was not yet over. For Dose 
 Ellery's horse, exasperated by his long and tedious 
 anchorage to a fence post, at the first loosening of 
 the hitchline had backed into the adjacent barn and 
 smashed the tail-board of the wagon and with it the 
 rickety incubator which Dose had bid off early in 
 the afternoon as a mysterious prize which was to sprin- 
 kle his dooryard with early chickens. 
 
 " Never mind, Dose," said Captain Belcher unoffi- 
 cially, on his way from the auction ground. " It's 
 money in yer pocket ter git shet o' the thing. Now 
 look here," he lifted a row of mathematical fingers. 
 "Ye paid twenty-five cents fr that oP fool-wrack o' 
 an artificial breeder, didn't ye? An' ye'd a rot-roasted
 
 THE AUCTION 255 
 
 about fifteen dozen o' eggs in 'er 'fore ye'd a give 'er 
 up as a bad job an' kicked 'er to the sunny side o' 
 Jericho. Eggs at this present minute is ten cents a 
 dozen. Reckon on 'er up, an' ye're a dollar an' a 
 quarter to the good, Dose; say nothin' o' the bad 
 langwidge pilin' up ag'in ye in the ledger what's so 
 full now 't the leds to the cover won't hardly stay 
 shet. You take that dollar an' a quarter and git some 
 oats Pr the old hoss what's been savin' ye good 
 money." 
 
 " You can talk, Belcher," said the sorrowful Dose ; 
 " twan't your money nor your incubator." 
 
 " I wouldn't set up any pelly-loo over it, Dose," 
 said the woman with the quiltful of treasures, and 
 she paused so that their rattling might not obstruct 
 the wisdom and condolence of her speech. " The 
 A'mighty has writ it down an' set it goin', that the' 's 
 nothin' like a old hen to raise chickens ; an' when you 
 go ag'in natur' you've got your hands full you've 
 got 'em too full." 
 
 "I know that the A'mighty set it goin' that the' 's 
 nothin' like a old hen ter raise chickens, but I never 
 heered afore that He writ it down," said Belcher. 
 
 " Well, He did so," said the woman of the quilt ; 
 and she was one of the sort that could face out Belcher 
 or any other mortal. 
 
 "Whar' abouts?" 
 
 " In the Bible, Stu Belcher. That's whar'." 
 
 " I seen it thar' myself," said a meek little woman, 
 who was the quilt-woman's next door neighbor and 
 had acquired a wise habit of courting her good-will 
 perennially and conciliating her on all occasions.
 
 256 POWER LOT 
 
 "What part o' the Bible?" persisted the foolhardy 
 and thunderous Belcher. 
 
 " You open the leds o' yourn, ef you've got one, an' 
 read tell you come to it," said the quilt-woman ; " an' 
 you'll see some more things there that you never heern 
 tell on afore, Stu Belcher." 
 
 She went rattling down the road, the meek woman 
 maintaining a gait of stout partisanship at her side. 
 
 " That's a cute gal," said Belcher, pointing his 
 finger after her, to Rob, who, dispossessed of the babies 
 but with his lilacs still in hand, approached at this 
 moment ; " a cute old gal. My mother an' father kind 
 o' wanted me ter make up to 'er when we was young 
 folks together, but I kind o' ducked my fly in'- jib an' 
 wriggled out o' the channel an' laid by in the cove 
 till the danger was over, an' she got spliced onto some- 
 body else." 
 
 Captain Belcher, being in a meditative mood, re- 
 garded Rob and his wilted lilacs with unusual pensive- 
 ness and interest. 
 
 " This gittin' spliced is a resky business, Rob. Ye 
 seem to think a good deal o' yer flowers. Old Mis' 
 Skipper giv' 'em to ye? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " She's of the natur' of laylocks herself ; so's Mis' 
 Belcher, my woman; but that old gal heavin' out o' 
 sight over yander, she 's more like them other flowers 
 ye're holdin'." 
 
 "Thedelilahsandpineys?" 
 
 " Aye ; though I suppose the proper way ter pro- 
 nounce 'em is dallyers and pe-o-nys; all the same, 
 they're a flauntin' high-steppin' sassy kind o' flower.
 
 THE AUCTION 257 
 
 Cuby, now Cuby Tee-boo she's a good deal on the 
 dallyer an' pe-o-ny line." 
 
 Rob's face was fine and sad; his stalwart physical 
 development at Power Lot, God Help Us, had edified 
 Captain Belcher beyond measure; it was a winsome 
 face, too, and Captain Belcher spoke again. 
 
 " Perhaps I ain't saying nothin'," he continued 
 guardedly ; " but I'm goin' to look inter some matters 
 o' law a leetle, an' ef it don't make none o' the inner- 
 cent folks 'round here liable, and ef Cuby kind o' huffs 
 ye off an' gives ye the cold shoulder, way she done ter- 
 day mebby it c'n be proved 't that old loafin' demmy- 
 rip of a jestice o' the peace what was asked ter jine 
 you two warn't in no condition for the job, in which 
 case you could each go yer own way hawk-free an' 
 freedom-wild. I ain't promisin' nothin', but I'm mixin' 
 up my tar with an eye to seein' what c'n be done. F'r 
 I like ye, Rob. Ye ain't no nincompoop sech as I 
 thought ye might be when ye first hove in sight ; ye're 
 as honest an' stanch a young craft as I ever hailed, 
 an' d d ef I wouldn't like ter see ye free ter selec' 
 somethin' tasty in the line of a laylock f'r a partner, 
 f'r I reckon ye kind o' favor 'em, same as I do." 
 
 Rob smiled as he took the captain's friendly out- 
 stretched hand, although he made no confidences of 
 his own. He pursued his solitary way up the Steeps 
 in a leisurely manner, often pausing, having no incen- 
 tive for hastening to any waiting heart the world 
 over, and night having settled down on the potato 
 patch and every other field of labor. He saw Mrs. 
 By jo piloting her boarder home from the evening they 
 had spent with Mary. He reached the Stingaree house
 
 258 POWER LOT 
 
 and stood by the dim door, his heart as peaceful within 
 him as it was sad and without hope. 
 
 Then he knocked and entered. The light, though 
 only of a feeble oil lamp, appeared to dazzle him. He 
 stood silent as if dropped from the interlunar spaces, 
 his wilted lilacs clasped in his hand. 
 
 Mary had just seated herself by the table to mend 
 some garments of Bate's ; she looked up as Rob en- 
 tered with the habitual quick alarm of one who had 
 learned to dread the return of her family from the 
 fleshpots of the River ; there was a questioning sor- 
 row too in her wide, dark eyes. It stung Rob, but 
 now only to a great compassion for Tier. 
 
 " Oh, you must not worry about me," he said ear- 
 nestly, simply. " I have not touched a drop. I had not 
 even thought of such a possibility until I saw your 
 look. How we have tried you oh, my God. But I 
 do not crave it any more, I do not want it. Miss 
 Stingaree, can't you trust me? You must not worry 
 any more." 
 
 Mary looked into his clear eyes, heard his steady, 
 impassioned speech, saw above all his thin, kind, weary 
 face bending over her. A compunction seized her that 
 was like the surging of many waters in her soul. She 
 Mary Stingaree wanted in that moment even to 
 put her arm 'round the poor fellow's neck and tell him 
 that she was glad he had come home to see the great 
 light that would waken on his patient, quiet face he, 
 who was made for joy. 
 
 She only smiled; and Rob only thought her beauti- 
 ful and that her smile seemed to answer him; he 
 dreamed of nothing more.
 
 THE AUCTION 259 
 
 " Your flowers," she murmured, " are rather de- 
 jected. Shall we put them in some water? " 
 
 " I carried them all through the auction," said Rob. 
 " Mrs. Skipper gave them to me, and somehow, you 
 know, I couldn't bear to throw them away." 
 
 Mary brought a vase of water and arranged them. 
 '* She gave you some of the very choicest from her 
 garden, too," she mused, setting them off to advantage, 
 with deft touches of her fingers ; "she must be very 
 fond of you." 
 
 " No more fond than I am of her." Rob smiled back 
 sweetly, and struggled politely and desperately to re- 
 press a yawn, for he had been so long wandering in 
 the bright air, and the wind that makes sleep had risen 
 wild with the clouds at sunset. 
 
 Mary bit her lip, and Rob concluded that she was in 
 some way amused at his stupidity. He did not mind. 
 The stars were not for him; if he furnished them 
 amusement, so much the better. It must be weary 
 to be stuck up on high always in such brilliancy and 
 aloofness. He took his own small lamp from the shelf 
 and lit it. 
 
 " I'm so dead-sleepy, if you'll excuse me," he said, 
 " I think I'll turn in. Good-night, Miss Stingaree. 
 Pleasant dreams." 
 
 " Good-night, Rob," said Mary, resuming her sor- 
 did mending under the fragrance of the beloved Mrs. 
 Skipper's flowers. 
 
 Rob had long since ceased to pass any censures on 
 his mattress; it was the best constructed and most 
 comfortable mattress in the world. He lay down upon 
 it with the events of the day, good, bad, and indifferent,
 
 260 POWER LOT 
 
 all tending to lull him, and a comparatively insignifi- 
 cant item forming the hazy nucleus of his sinking-off. 
 
 Dose Ellery's battered incubator Rob seemed still 
 to follow it without effort of his own, along the wind- 
 ing road till it merged into the quilt-woman's presence, 
 and her voice was distinct, though far away " and 
 writ it down, that the' 's nothin' like a old hen to raise 
 chickens." 
 
 Ah, she was right, Rob had it now, without effort, 
 from the black-velvet days, the long curls, and the 
 nurse taking him to Sunday School. " Even as a 
 hen gathereth her chickens under her wings." There 
 was old Speckled-Top, for instance Rob had watched 
 her recently a faithful and much-enduring parent, 
 clucking with thrilling anxiety while the whole brood 
 beat in under her patient feathers ; even the sad of the 
 flock, the rickety one, the lame one, and, most lament- 
 able of all, the weak, gay, smart one who tottered off 
 alone with ridiculous airs and flourishes, gazing ever 
 with the same idiotic complacency into the maw of 
 destruction ; but coming back, like the rest ; like the 
 rest, all creeping in under the big hushed wings at 
 night time.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 JACOB TRAWLES BREAKS AWAY 
 
 THE bleak spaces, the heights and depths, that had been 
 to Rob as an enemy when he first gazed upon them, 
 were now the strange unspoken solace of his soul. Every- 
 where he turned God smote him in the face not with 
 fear, but with that greatness which absorbed his petty 
 griefs and challenged him from his place in the arena 
 to fight the fight out and, in all simplicity, to make a 
 man of himself before he died. 
 
 The first and hardest task was to arrange for Cuby's 
 home on the hills. 
 
 " You are not even so smar-r-rt as I thought you 
 was, Rober'," she demurred ; " you been loafin' 'roun' 
 Ma'y Sting'ree ontill you are dees'greeable an' solemn 
 lak a owl lak she is." 
 
 " If I thought I was like her " 
 
 " Why don't you go to marry her then? Or has the 
 ol' doc-tor made loaf to her? Me I let you have her 
 willin'." 
 
 " Thank you, Cuby, but I'm married to you, I believe, 
 and I'm going to stand by it. A Hilton knows how to 
 support his wife, and how to treat her, too. You need 
 not be afraid. I've earned money besides my board, 
 working out, and my potato crop is as fine as any- 
 body's. I'm going over with Jim to Waldeck before 
 long to sell them." 
 
 261
 
 262 POWER LOT 
 
 " Mind you this what I tell you : I shall not go to 
 stan' any preachin' from you nor Ma'y Sting'ree. Me 
 I boss-a my own house." 
 
 " And welcome, Cuby." 
 
 " An' I lak not to live 'roun' with anybody with so 
 long a owl face on them, neither." 
 
 " I do not blame you," said Rob, smiling. " But 
 honestly, I laugh more up there on the hills. The River, 
 down here takes me down, somehow. I've got so used 
 to living up there, I suppose and I'm laughing half 
 the time, Cuby. It's m me. I couldn't help it if I 
 tried." 
 
 Cuby appeared neither flattered nor pleased by this 
 promising confession. 
 
 " I would rather me to live down here," she said ; 
 " it is not so stupeed daid an' alive. But I s'pose I 
 must to go where it laks you to live." 
 
 " Yes," said Rob quietly, " that you must do." 
 
 In spite of Cuby's reluctant and much-qualified wifely 
 admission, Rob had a thought that she in some degree, 
 with her father and Bate as principals, were in some 
 league of unappeasable resentment toward him, that 
 they were gulling him on, as their phrase was ; that they 
 would even willingly work harm to him if they could 
 do so unapprehended. 
 
 Nevertheless he believed, too, that when he brought 
 Cuby to the hills and set up his forlorn home there, like 
 the other forlorn homes at Power Lot, God Help Us, his 
 domestic affairs would run on as smoothly as familiar 
 toil and drudgery could make them. Cuby was a 
 strikingly pretty and attractive girl, and she had a 
 right, he reasoned, to hold a grudge against him, who
 
 JACOB TRAWLES BREAKS AWAY 263 
 
 had compromised her by his promises and attentions and 
 who now approached the realization of the marriage-tie 
 so half-heartedly. 
 
 Would Caroline Treat marry old man Trawles and 
 rent her house to Rob? It was the general opinion that 
 she would do so, though endowed as she was with the 
 very genius of circumlocution she had never yet com- 
 mitted herself. The pellucid river of her tongue con- 
 tinued its diversions in pleasant fields of sentiment and 
 all manner of phraseology without that definite trend 
 for which all, and especially Rob with a heavy duty on 
 his heart, waited. 
 
 " Ya-as, oh, ya-as, doctors has their place in the 
 world, an' I don't hold with them that says they despise 
 the trade. I don't consider, as some do, that doctors 
 has nothin' to do but set down in a fat butter-tub as 
 the old sayin' is and make up their charges ag'in ye. 
 I consider 't them that talks so-fashion has mighty lit- 
 tle brains in their heads." 
 
 This defense of his profession took place on the 
 porchsteps of Mrs. By jo's house, when Doctor Margate 
 had risen and urged Caroline to take his chair and she 
 had declined on the ground that " the' 's nothin' rests a 
 body when they're goin' 'round neighborly like settin' 
 down bet ween whiles on somebody's doorstep an' sprawlin' 
 out sech o' yer j'ints an' hinges as needs favorin', as 
 ye can't do in a chair." 
 
 The doctor acknowledged by a grave bow the pro- 
 priety of her statement ; he was delighted that she was 
 there, and that the fact of his being visible on the porch 
 had not deterred her from making this also an objec- 
 tive point in her neighborly dispositions and travels. If
 
 264 POWER LOT 
 
 she was making a set at him, as the continued wearing 
 of the black kid gloves seemed to indicate, he believed 
 that it was more from a harmless feminine fancy for 
 making another conquest than from any designs upon 
 him or any serious desire whatever to win him; and 
 events proved that he was right. 
 
 " Oh my, ya-as, doctors has their place. How often 
 the call comes in the middle o' the night, an* they haves 
 to git up an' hunt 'round to tackle the hoss by lantern 
 light, an' all the like o' that. The night my Dan'l was 
 born was a reg'lar line-gale, an' every time the sea 
 struck 'er she went under." 
 
 " It was a boat, and not a horse, that was going for 
 the doctor this time, I presume, Mrs. Treet? " said Doc- 
 tor Margate, whose skill in placing a lighthouse here 
 and there along the unfettered ocean of Caroline's 
 reminiscences had already won her heart. 
 
 " It was so an' him that small you could put his 
 face in a teacup, but growed up the biggest one I had, 
 an' took no sass from anybody, from Owl's Head to 
 Spry Bay, an' 'ud sail any old rotten tub they dars't 
 him to." 
 
 " Your second son, I think you told me, Mrs. Treet? " 
 
 " Oh my, ya-as, an' got a place as mate on the old 
 Noll Wimper when he wa'n't but seventeen, that was 
 of a piece with all the rest, so 's one trip no furder 
 away than Thatcher's Breakwater they laid in harbor 
 nine days stoppin' up the holes in 'er. The wind 's 
 kind o' bafflin' to-day," added Mrs. Treet, taking off 
 her soda-advertisement cap, which had been blown to 
 one ear, and smoothing it with the black gloves, which 
 had witnessed funerals and weddings, but seldom any
 
 JACOB TRAWLES BREAKS AWAY 265 
 
 other social rite, so that Doctor Margate was forced 
 to regard their recent donning in his behalf as a compli- 
 ment almost sacrificial in its essence. 
 
 " When I think," he said, with a mental eye to her 
 union with her faithful and desperate suitor, Jacob 
 Trawles, " of all that you have borne and endured as a 
 good wife and mother, Mrs. Treet, though I have only 
 so recently been honored with your acquaintance and 
 had the inestimable pleasure of conversing with you, 
 yet even I wish most earnestly that you might find a 
 safe haven of care and devotion at last in the affection 
 of a good and worthy man." 
 
 Caroline Treet blushed, and that handsomely ; and 
 as it fell out, there was no harm whatever in her taking 
 to herself the flattering conclusion that Doctor Mar- 
 gate was at this very moment proposing to her. 
 
 " Thar's some things, however, ter be said on the 
 other side," she interposed as kindly as possible, " and 
 thar's them nearer home that probably thinks they has 
 the best rights." An inadevertent snigger was heard 
 from Mrs. By jo through the open doors to the kitchen. 
 But Caroline Treet was never suspicious, and she con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " An 5 1 never was one to throw away a good fowl from 
 my own barnyard for a eagle on Moon Mountain as 
 the sayin' is that might only turn an' claw me when 
 I'd kctched him." It was the doctor's turn to blush 
 now, and Mrs. Byjo was heard retreating precipitately 
 to the woodshed. " No, oh no not as makin' any 
 likes between anybody and an eagle, for the' 's no sech 
 likes atween 'em ; but my ways has allus been here in 
 Power Lot, God Help Us, and I ain't got the 'nclinati.
 
 266 POWER LOT 
 
 at my time o* life ter start up a drill with any strange 
 sort o' folks that, like as not, in a week's time, I'd wish 
 I hadn't made no sech a contrac'." 
 
 " Probably it would not be wise," murmured Doctor 
 Margate. 
 
 " No more do I think folks needs ter be jest of an 
 age, two an' two, for sech as that. An* ef Mary 
 Sting'ree c'n make up her mind to ye, sence pore Rob 
 Hilton's out er the runnin', as the sayin' is, it's my 
 opinion she couldn't do no better, her havin' acquaint- 
 ance with them ways that I don't know nothin' about, 
 so's it ain't likely she'd go mewlin' an' squallin* around 
 like a cat in a strange garret, which I'm very sure would 
 overtake me or worse." 
 
 The doctor's altruistic match-making speculations 
 had been innocently hurled back at his own head. 
 
 " I thank you for your interest and encouragement, 
 Mrs. Treet if you mean me." 
 
 " No other is meant," replied Mrs. Treet, with almost 
 tender compunction now that the danger to herself was 
 passed. " I'm one that speaks right out what I got to 
 say; my first meanin' is my last, an' no nuts hid away 
 f'r winter in the bole o' the tree, as the sayin' is, but 
 plain an' open." 
 
 " Let me congratulate you on your engagement to 
 Mr. Trawles," said the doctor, trying bold tactics in 
 return. 
 
 " WaP, I don't know," hesitated Caroline, with the 
 dawn of prospective housekeeping for two gleaming 
 nevertheless through the discreet composure on her 
 comely face. " I'm one that alias rolls my buggy out 
 er the shed 'fore I go down to the pastur' to ketch thg
 
 JACOB TRAWLES BREAKS AWAY 267 
 
 boss, as the sayin' is. We don't make much o' ' engage- 
 ments,' here, but as soon as the word is spoke the deed 
 is done, an' a dollar to the Jestice, ef it c'n be scraped 
 up, tho' he's a pore triflin' gump anyway, that never 
 knows what o'clock it is, and had ought to be in better 
 business." 
 
 " You don't consider him really competent to marry 
 people ? " said the wily doctor. " But he married Rob, 
 I think, to Miss Cuby Tee-bo? " 
 
 " Only Stu Belcher an' the All-Seein' knows who mar- 
 ried them," replied Caroline. " I heered a whisper lately 
 that 'twas Stu himself; but even so, joke or earnest, 
 it's been gone an' done, an' no gittin' away from it." 
 
 " Surely, a marriage performed as a joke would not 
 hold." 
 
 " I don't know how it is whar' you live," replied Caro- 
 line gravely, " but, here, it don't make no difference. 
 It's a dreadful solemn yarn they reel off over ye, an' 
 when it's gone through with, why, the job's done, no 
 matter who, not even ef it was no better 'n old Tim 
 Tibbits himself done it thar' you be, an' not even the 
 angel with the Book o' gold clasps could git ye out of 
 it, or give ye a grain o' comfort but what ye'd got ter 
 take the dose." 
 
 " This is dreadful to contemplate," said the doctor. 
 "The very thought of the relentlessness of it chills 
 me." 
 
 " You an' me's been through the drill once afore," 
 said Caroline. " Stu Belcher's been through it, and it 
 ain't likely, ef he done it, that even sech a clown as 
 him done sech a piece o' work as that f'r a joke, he 
 too well the meanin* of it; but anyways, havin'
 
 268 POWER LOT 
 
 done it, it wouldn't be a joke no longer, but thar' it 
 would have ter stand." 
 
 " Are you sure of this? " 
 
 " I be." 
 
 It is strange, how, given a certain atmosphere, even 
 the imaginings and superstitions of the simplest will 
 cast a spell about a man. The expression of Caroline's 
 face constituted with the gloves on her hands a sym- 
 phony of decorous gloom. Doctor Margate, though 
 knowing better, was afflicted for the moment with a 
 sense of something uncanny, like the clanking of ghostly 
 fetters, and moved restlessly in . his chair to obtain a 
 freer breath ; when the situation was relieved by a 
 scene, familiar to Power Lot, now portraying itself to 
 the occupants of the porch though they themselves 
 remained unseen. 
 
 Old man Trawles' tall form, in silk hat and broadcloth 
 as usual, outlined a dignified progress toward that 
 bourne of his heart's desire, the home of Caroline Treet. 
 Almost simultaneously Nell and Gid approached, one on 
 each side of him. A conversation of an obviously excited 
 nature ensued, and the urbane form of the old man was 
 led back to his own house, humiliated in bearing and 
 baffled of purpose. 
 
 " Durn his old chicken-liver," exclaimed Caroline 
 Treet impulsively, the light of action and a saving 
 degree of affectionate ardor waking in her own eye; 
 " why in dough-bat don't he stand up for himself." 
 
 " Why, indeed," said the doctor, gladly echoing the 
 living realities embodied in the sudden alertness of Mrs. 
 Treet's tone. 
 
 " I'm a-goin* ter make for home," she declared, ris-
 
 JACOB TRAWLES BREAKS AWAY 269 
 
 ing, " and when he sees me makin' my passage over, ef 
 he's got any grit in 'im at all, he'll peel out o' thar', an* 
 make the kind o' tracks he wants ter make, straight 
 to'ds whar' he wants ter make 'em." 
 
 Doctor Margate watched with an interest which he 
 would not have confessed even to himself, for the reap- 
 pearance of Jacob Trawles. Within half an hour this 
 took place, but was deflected by a course in the doctor's 
 own direction. 
 
 *' A baffling wind, sir, to-day," observed Jacob 
 Trawles. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the doctor promptly. " But we 
 must not allow the wind to baffle us, sir. No." 
 
 " I'm makin' my far'well calls on my friends and 
 neighbors, all 'round my far'well calls. To-morrow's 
 sun will probably see me in etarnity." The steady brown 
 eyes of Jacob Trawles contemplated the doctor with- 
 out either expression or reserve. 
 
 " Ah, my good friend, so you thought yesterday when 
 you came to bid us farewell, but, thank heaven, you are 
 still here with us. Why, man, you ought to be all alive 
 with hope." 
 
 " Car'line is friendly with all but me. All but me 
 can get nigh her. My hour has come, sir," persisted 
 Jacob. " I have no desire to live. I am making my 
 far'well calls. Nell an' Gid have gone down to the 
 River," he remarked incidentally, though in the same 
 tone and holding the doctor with the same unrelaxing 
 eye. 
 
 "Well, we may as well be glad of that. I have 
 just had a little conversation, by the way, with Mrs. 
 Treet a charming woman. I envy those who live
 
 270 POWER LOT 
 
 constantly in her vicinity, for it strikes me she is a 
 woman of superior constancy. With her, the old friends 
 would be the valued friends, the ones she held dearest." 
 
 "I would marry her to-morrow ef Car'line would 
 speak the word ; yes, ef she would speak the word. But 
 women are bafflin' bafflin' as the wind, sir." 
 
 " For some of us, that is true; but not for you, sir 
 not for you. Do not tell her that Nell and Gid have gone 
 to the River," advised Doctor Margate clearly ; " tell 
 her that you broke away. Women adore boldness. They 
 love it. Just say that you broke away." 
 
 Jacob surveyed the medical man, the dawn of a 
 hitherto unrelated continent opening in his dun-brown 
 eyes, and was speechless. At this juncture Nell and Gid 
 advanced over the hill, having performed a sort of ruse 
 to entrap their ancient in his amorous designs. 
 
 " Go right on and make your call " the hearty 
 voice of the doctor reassured him. " Mrs. Treet is look- 
 ing out from her window yonder, and she will see for 
 herself that, for her sake, you have broken away." 
 
 Jacob Trawles set out for Mrs. Treet's house at a 
 gait unsurpassed in any recent events of his history, 
 not excepting the time when Mrs. By jo's prize steer 
 gave him chase across the fields. Nell and Gid were a 
 good half mile to the rear. The view was large at 
 Power Lot. They came up, panting, crossing the doc- 
 tor's bows, so to speak, just as Jacob stepped safe with 
 a singularly valiant mien on to Mrs. Treet's doorstep 
 and further pursuit was hopeless. 
 
 Doctor Margate, seemingly engrossed in a book, 
 glanced up pleasantly at the sound of Nell's insistent 
 loud breathing and saw her fanning her pert, insolent
 
 JACOB TRAWLES BREAKS AWAY 271 
 
 face with her hat, while Gid with affected ease of man- 
 ner stood stuffing some newly whittled tobacco into the 
 crater of his pipe. Nell was as worldly a girl as city 
 or country ever bred. She had heard that the doctor 
 was rich; and the delightful romance of elderly men 
 stepping off the stage and leaving their fortunes to 
 young wives was one of the most pleasing of her 
 occasional literary diversions. 
 
 So she smirked at the distinguished gentleman with- 
 out one saving gleam of bashfulness or timidity. 
 
 " A very breezy day," she simpered. 
 
 " Baffling extremely so," replied the doctor, gal- 
 lantly, and gave back his attention to the pages of his 
 book. 
 
 A moment later, when no human travesty was imposed 
 upon the greatness of the scene about him, he pondered 
 why, since scenery and environment were said to have 
 such a vital influence upon character, Power Lot should 
 have produced Bate Stingaree, and Nell and Gid, and 
 some others. But his heart turned to Mary Stingaree, 
 and all nature rose in confirmation of its offspring ; and 
 even of poor Rob Hilton too, city-ruined, pleasure- 
 spoiled and so late adopted, yet whom the magnitude 
 of the sea and the priestly glory of the hills and love, 
 perhaps, hopeless love of the sweet woman, for whom 
 his own. love too was hopeless had awakened to infinite 
 aspirations.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 SIDE-SADDLING THE LOG 
 
 OF the diplomacy of Captain Stu Belcher there had 
 never been any doubt. 
 
 With a hail and a roar he brought his oxen up past 
 Mrs. By jo's, and when he discovered Doctor Mar- 
 gate taking a stroll farther down the road he drove his 
 chariot of four wheels and a log in that direction with a 
 mighty rattling and a swifter advance than usually 
 appertains to such a vehicle. 
 
 " Git on, sir. Git on. Lemme give ye a lift. You're 
 young enough ter side-saddle on a log, by Humfrey, 
 an' will be f r twenty years to come. Whoa, you gol- 
 durn wireless telegrafters, you," he bellowed at his 
 oxen, who found it as difficult to stay their pace as it 
 had been in the first place to acquire it. " Git right 
 up call it side-saddlin', tho* we ain't got no saddles! 
 Jest the other side o' that knot, onless ye want ter put 
 a skylight though yer trouse's. You ain't got nobody 
 ter mend 'em for ye. I have, an* I done well, too, Doctor 
 Margerit I done d n well." 
 
 " That's good," said the doctor, riding the log skill- 
 fully, and enjoying a most unaccountable elation there- 
 fore; it may have been the atmosphere, it may have 
 been the world around him, but the cushions of his vic- 
 toria and the padding of his electric cab, as his mind 
 reverted to them, seemed base and discommodious in 
 272
 
 SIDE-SADDLING THE LOG 273 
 
 comparison. " I'm glad you found a good mate. I 
 hope you deserve her. And now look here, Captain 
 Belcher, don't you let Robert Hilton bring Cuby Tee-bo 
 up here on the hills and carry out that fr.ke marriage 
 to her. I expect you to look out for that, or there'll 
 be sad consequences for you. Mind what I say that 
 must not be done." 
 
 " Why, now, what you got ag'in that pretty little 
 Kanuck?" 
 
 " Nothing whatever ; she's a treasure, she's a beauty, 
 with the man of her heart to guide her along; but Rob 
 Hilton is not that man, and she is not the girl of his 
 heart. That was a little escapade; they have never 
 really chosen each other; the marriage was a fake, and 
 they've both got a haunting suspicion of that fact, too." 
 
 The great Belcher looked stoutly, boldly, at the doc- 
 tor ; the doctor's keen eyes did not flinch. 
 
 "Look a' what your Rob Hilton was when he come 
 here," at last spoke Belcher, in a tone of unappreciated 
 merit that could not help but thrill his li^ener with its 
 wonder and reproach, " an' then look a' what I've made 
 of him." 
 
 "Foamadeof him?" 
 
 " Sure as herrin' for breakfast. Sure. He come 
 here, out o' the booze settlements thar' to his native 
 town, a natterally struttin' Shang-hi rooster with Ban- 
 tam lightness o' dispersition an' a goose giggle. An' 
 me, or somebody else call it me tied him down to this 
 dull 'arth with a sense o' responsibilities an' duties an* 
 sorrers, an' all sech drippin's from the mother cow 
 necessary ter raise up a healthy calf. Ain't that so? v 
 The doctor bit his lip, and briefly nodded.
 
 274 POWER LOT 
 
 " He was a derelic', he was," continued Belcher, 
 " on the drift, ef ever the' was one; an* somebody call 
 it me took an' anchored of 'im so tight he's been grub- 
 bin' away contented ever sence, sweatin' all the microbes 
 an* tomfoolery out er his sestem, an' raisin' pertaters 
 three dozen to the hill. An' now you come over from 
 New York an' want ter heave over all his ballas' an* 
 lighten up on his moorin's an' send him bumpin' an 
 careenin' like a durn tramp o' the seas ag'in. My hum- 
 f rey, but you got a gall on ye." 
 
 Doctor Margate laughed hilariously, but Belcher 
 regarded him with a steady reprobation and made not 
 the slightest acknowledgment of the ring of sympathy 
 in his tones. 
 
 " The Senate misses you, Captain Belcher you don't 
 miss the Senate any. As a matter of fact, though, it 
 was I who sent Robert Hilton to grubbing in the earth, 
 and a certain Captain Jim a a Jim Turbine has 
 been a sort of hovering a decent fellow, with a 
 weather eye%ut for poor Rob and Mary in this Beulah 
 land to see that the wolves did not get them quite ; and 
 you, Captain Belcher, you, being in a humorous mood, 
 practiced some of your tremendous pleasantries on poor 
 Rob, putting him in an insufferably false position. It 
 was what I call a dastardly piece of work." 
 
 " Git out," said Belcher coolly ; " you a man o' 
 science, by Tamarack, and don't know what the ropes 
 is that fa'rly cows a man an' knocks all the gale out 
 er him so's what f riskiness he has left is no more 'n a 
 sucklin' lamp, jumpin' on all fours an' kickin' out his 
 hin' legs at nothin'. You don't know that your ken- 
 try air an' your honest t'il an' all yer cornmeal mush
 
 SIDE-SADDLING THE LOG 275 
 
 an' moonshine wouldn't V proved a rope ter holt that 
 derelic', no more 'n a strand o' knittin' cotton. No sir, 
 it was me done it. Joke or 'arnest, it was me hove out 
 the right size o' cable it was that thar' marriage-tie 
 done the job." 
 
 The broad smile on Doctor Margate's hypnotized 
 countenance again culminated in explosive laughter. 
 
 " The world of political rivalry, of commercial ac- 
 tivity, misses you, Captain Belcher but you do not 
 miss it. How admirably, for instance, you ride on a 
 log. The pounding over rocks and ruts seems to give 
 you only a firmer seat and a more graceful carriage, 
 while I joggle about like a cork, in comparison, and am 
 sometimes compelled to clutch out wildly. Well, what 
 shall we do about Rob? Will you see to it will you 
 aid Captain Jim Turbine in seeing to it (for I regret 
 to say that I am called away, and must leave Power 
 Lot to-morrow) that housekeeping for Rob and Cuby 
 on the hill shall never begin? Will you step in at the 
 needful moment and in full good season^ and deliver 
 Rob of the false burden he is bearing? I could make 
 you considerable trouble if I chose to do so. I shall 
 be proud to be your friend and act in unison with you 
 if you will engage fairly to do what I ask." 
 
 Captain Belcher glowered severely at the doctor, 
 then looked off to the fir trees and sniffed a sniff of 
 scorn. 
 
 "Ye couldn't drag Cuby Tee-bo up to the hill to 
 housekeep along o' Rob. The' ain't no kind o' hawser 
 ye could fashion 'd haul that gal i*p there ter wash out 
 'er fryin'pan an' hang out 'er clo's accordin' as Rob 
 Hilton an' Ma'y Sting'ree an' Widder Treet an* the
 
 276 POWER LOT 
 
 rest of 'em thinks fryin'pans ought ter be washed 
 an' clo's hung. No, sir. An' I don't blame 'er. She'd 
 fling 'er fryin'pan an 5 'er suds straight inter the faces 
 o' the whole caboodle of 'em. An' I'd do the same 
 ef I was her. Don't you worry. Cuby Tee-bo ain't 
 ketched yet." 
 
 "Well, well!" 
 
 " You know some things thar' whar' you come from, 
 an' you been roun' the worl' eatin' yer iysters on the 
 harf-shell an' smokin' yer Havanas down in the cabin 
 s'loon, but I been roun' the worl' watchin' out from the 
 herric'n deck, with the rain hissin' at me an' the salt 
 bitin' me, ontil I know purty well what's up in any 
 'arthly latertude whar' I happen ter be drivin' my craft 
 f'r the time bein'. That's me." 
 
 " I believe you." 
 
 " Now the' ain't no harm goin' ter happen ter Rob 
 Hilton by way of bindin' of him ter anybody 't 'tnin't 
 best p'rhaps f'r him ter be boun' to, an' that anyways 
 don't want him. Meanwhiles you let 'im dig his crap 
 o' pertaters. That's my 'dvice. F'r though he don't 
 reckon on it, mebby he's a-workin' in a holt on the 
 proud sperrit o' that ar high-toned, scholardly Ma'y 
 Sting'ree, that 'ud sure make him toe the mark to every 
 spellin' match that's comin' to him in this worl'. The' 
 ain't nothin' tunes up the melodium of love in a case 
 like hern, like a big, slow-ponderin', easy-laughin', slap- 
 the-whole-menagery-in-the-mouth and die-for-ye cuss 
 like Rob Hilton." 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 " Nothin' ain't impossible from the herric'n deck. 
 This 'ere old worl' c'n kick up more cyclones to the
 
 SIDE-SADDLING THE LOG 277 
 
 squar' inch an' s'prise more folks to the squar' minute 
 than any other worl' I ever see." 
 
 "True." 
 
 "An ef the' is anythin' drorin' her to-wards him, 
 it's jest that good, set-up-straight-in-meetin', none-o'- 
 the-preserves-thank-ye, small-piece-o'-pie-f'r-me-please 
 way in which he is a-regardin' his oblegations to Cuby 
 Tee-bo. See? As f'r Cuby, she's a good gal, though 
 she's a wild one and a gay one, she is, an' her mettle 
 is up ter somethin' tough 't knows how ter sail a boat. 
 D' ye ketch on? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Wai', she wants Jim, that's who she wants." 
 
 " He seems a decent sort of fellow." 
 
 "'Decent sort o' feller?' By the Great Nor'easter, 
 what are you a-lookin' f'r? Why, Jim Turbine an' 
 me c'd run this whole conternent ef we was only giv' 
 a fa'r post o' observation an' c'd find some chairs our 
 size to set in. I reckon you don't know all the' is ter 
 be knowed about Jim Turbine an' me." 
 
 The doctor was silent. 
 
 " Jim Turbine c'n go out on a sea 't spells dead-man 
 to ary other mortal, an' beat in home through the hell- 
 racket o' the elerments smokin' his pipe at sundown, 
 wishin' 't the wind 'ud breeze so 't there 'd be somethin' 
 doin'. That's me an' Jim. He c'n make a fool o' him- 
 self ev'ry day in the week, like he's been a-doin' readin' 
 books an' drulin' at the mouth about the ' beauties o' 
 natur', an' all sech, tell he's got a notion he wants 
 somethin' high-toneder 'n what his bringin' up '11 allow 
 him; but jest wait tell the gale strikes him fa'r abeam 
 an' he'll reel 'round an' right up on an even keel ev'ry
 
 278 POWER LOT 
 
 time. Ef he ever does git drowned he won't git 
 drownded he'll show up somewhar'. An* that's me 
 an' Jim, an' be d d to ye." 
 
 Captain Belcher refilled his pipe, his cowhide boots 
 swaying freely in sympathy with the perils of his pres- 
 ent method of transit; a jolt of unusual violence, over 
 a stump, separated him for a space from his affinity 
 with the log; he descended, however, precisely in his 
 former chosen seat, uninterrupted in his attentions to 
 his pipe and wholly unperturbed. But the doctor, as 
 a result of the catastrophe, sat down abruptly in the 
 road, where he contemplated in some bewilderment for 
 the moment his unexpected change of base. 
 
 "Shall I stop 'em?" Captain Belcher called back 
 to him cheerfully, " or c'n ye jump on while the train's 
 movin'? " 
 
 " I won't board the train again, thank you. I need 
 exercise," replied Doctor Margate dryly, as he rose. 
 " I'll walk back home." 
 
 " Hold on," yelled the captain, himself descending 
 and shouting and belaboring a halt on his oxen ; " I 
 want a word with ye 'fore ye go. Ye're a man o' 
 straight good sense, an' I respec' ye. I've been hove 
 off myself by a stump lesser size 'n that." 
 
 " I haven't been in training, you see," replied the 
 doctor, with no trace of vexation in his manner or his 
 tone. 
 
 " No, ye ain't had the 'dvantages a man like you 
 ought ter had," said Belcher, standing regally thought- 
 ful, the veteran of many scars, of well-sustained ship- 
 wreck, and of a hide seemingly impregnable at last to 
 all save added windburn. " Ye'd rate along o' me an'
 
 SIDE-SADDLING THE LOG 279 
 
 Jim ef ye 'd had harf a chance in the worP." He medi- 
 tated, and in spite of the dictates of sound reason and 
 common sense against such unconscionable boasting, 
 the doctor admired him and was more than half inclined 
 to take him at his own estimation. 
 
 " The question is," said Belcher at last, withdrawin 
 his gaze from a profound contemplation of the distant 
 Bay of Fundy, " be you a-goin' ter keep yer mouth 
 shet? " 
 
 " Not in the least, if I see fit to open it," replied 
 Doctor Margate. 
 
 " That's the talk," exclaimed Belcher approvingly ; 
 " but be ye goin' ter see fit ter keep it shet that's the 
 question. Come now, as the gospil says, an' le's figger 
 this out tergether. Do ye want ter tell Rob Hilton 
 ter-morrer, f'r instance that the' 's nothin' bindin' 
 of him here? F'r Tie ain't got no notion 't thar' 's any 
 chance for him along o' Ma'y Sting'ree, no more 'n 
 / have of ailyenatin' the 'ffections o' the wife o' the Old 
 Man in the Moon." 
 
 " That settles it." 
 
 " An' I doubt ef Ma'y Sting'ree has took the idee 
 inter her head one bit yit either. No sir it's me 't 
 has figgered out this match." 
 
 "Not you and Jim?" 
 
 " Jim's sore sore as a bile. He wusships the 
 groun' Ma'y treads on. But he ain't f'r her. Jim's 
 got many a wil' sea yit ter sail afore Tie dies. Ef Jim 
 goes ter homin', it had ought ter be with some mid- 
 ocean bird o' his own breed. Jim thinks he'd like ter 
 git civerlized and live ashore, but he wouldn't them 
 ol' whitecaps out thar' 'ud call him, an* he'd ruffle
 
 280 POWER LOT 
 
 his feathers an' stretch his neck, an' off he'd go. Ho- 
 hum, it's tough on Jim ; but he won't go under ; ye 
 needn't ter werry 'bout Jim." 
 
 " I won't. I am more concerned about the match 
 you propose to make between Miss Stingaree and Rob 
 Hilton." 
 
 " Easy, easy ! Whar' thar' 's a woman in the calker- 
 lation the' 's no knowin' when ye may look out an' 
 find yer weather-vane 's clean blowed off the barn. 
 Easy now. But you let Rob bide an' keep on workin' 
 f'r a while. He couldn't git Cuby ef he tried. An' 
 he won't git put in no box, now I promise ye, ef that '11 
 do. I promise ye." 
 
 " Well." 
 
 " An' you'll keep yer mouth shet about any little 
 frolick anybody mon't 'a' played? I ain't sayin' who. 
 You'll lay low tell the storm's over, an' the flyin'jib's 
 run up, an' all's well some way 'r another, won't ye? 
 That's what I want ter know." 
 
 " Why, yes, under the circumstances, and consider- 
 ing that you promise to make it all clear as daylight 
 at the auspicious moment, I think I may safely say I 
 will leave that for the present to your judgment and 
 your conscience. But the time must come soon, Cap- 
 tain Belcher." 
 
 " Easy ! easy ! This is goin' ter be a tejus mess o' 
 ropes, mebby, an* we got ter keep both eyes shet whilst 
 we squint with one and wink with t'other. Wai', I'm 
 sorry ye ain't goin' ter stay long enough ter come 
 'round an' git acquainted with my folks, Doctor." 
 
 " But at least I congratulate myself, Captain 
 Belcher, on having become acquainted with you."
 
 SIDE-SADDLING THE LOG 281 
 
 "Wai, I won't deny that ye'll find me thirty-six 
 inches ter the yard with plenty over ter 'low f'r shrink- 
 age, ev'ry time. Come 'n see us ag'in. Do. Sorry 
 our ways in this worl' did n' lie par'lel, Doctor," con- 
 cluded Captain Belcher with a splendid, dismissing, 
 commiserating wave of the hand.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE TEST 
 
 IT had come time for Rob to sail over to Waldeck with 
 me to turn his crop of potatoes into good banknotes. 
 He was as elated as a boy not with the prospect of 
 renting a house for Cuby and laying in flour and fish 
 for the winter ; no, but with the thought of the day's 
 sail. A long day, it meant to him, a sort of epitome 
 of freedom and adventure before he put on the yoke 
 again and settled down to the drag. 
 
 "Jim," he said, as the Mary leaped through the 
 Gut at high tide, like a bird shivering to try her wings 
 over seas, " I wish we could sail her to Europe. Gad, 
 I wish we could sail her to the ends of the earth. If 
 I were rich as I was once I'd have a yacht I will, when 
 my ship comes in again; and, by Heaven, the voyages 
 we'll go, Jim." 
 
 There was the trouble. There was no meek, strug- 
 gling look in Rob's eyes, now ; there was the " keen " 
 for mad freedom. The sea does that. The hills, with 
 the sea to glimpse afar, give you steadiness, which is 
 greatest of all, I know ; but take a boat that sails true, 
 and a wind that forces the joy of health and daring 
 into your very breath, and changing shores that lure 
 you on and on, and you understand how runaways feel ; 
 you understand it well. You even feel, without God's 
 good dart of shame, the marauding heart that has its 
 282
 
 THE TEST 283 
 
 own will, in stinging air and over wild seas, and for its 
 own will would die vaingloriously, reckless and glad as 
 its brother elements. 
 
 And Rob had been prisoned away from the mighty 
 galloping horse of the deep that had so often flung out 
 a beckoning mane to him. This was his first sail since 
 I had brought him to Power Lot, God Help Us a dissi- 
 pated lordling crouched ruefully in the stern of my 
 boat; now he stood erect and fearless, as handsome a 
 fellow as ever I set eyes upon. But the spirit of the 
 salt, wide waste about him and the way my little vessel 
 ripped the foam up had entered into him. This it 
 was to be a man, to sail out thus. Not the meek bear- 
 ing of a yoke. 
 
 I had foreseen the temptation this whole day's busi- 
 ness would be to Rob. The train went from Waldeck 
 in the afternoon, at an hour when we must inevita- 
 bly be there waiting the tide. His pockets would 
 be full of money once more. I had talked it over with 
 Mary. 
 
 " Take him, Jim," she said. " He must be put to 
 the test sometime." And then, very gravely, as if 
 thinking to herself far away, she said, " He will stand." 
 But women know neither the sea nor the heart of a 
 man. 
 
 " He will stand," she had said. What did she care, I 
 wondered. The light in her eyes was no more than 
 nature often sent there to startle people with its beauty, 
 no more for him than for the rest of the universe whom 
 the imperious heart of the woman condoned with its 
 sublime faith and pity. 
 
 Rob was not going to stand I felt it in my bones
 
 *84 POWER LOT 
 
 as I regarded him now. I loved the lad. I wanted him 
 to bear the test. 
 
 " The sea, and the wide bearin's of it, has tempted 
 me lots o' times, Rob," I said. " But I've hung 'round. 
 Tell the truth, I've felt a sort of concern about Mary 
 Stingaree. Bate might strike her. Or she might be 
 left there, sick and alone. Some harm might happen 
 her; and though she's nothing to me, and never can 
 be, except the best friend I ever had, yet she kind o' 
 draws me she holds me. Many's the time she's told 
 me, sharp, meaning it for my sake, I know, to go off 
 where I could do better ; but I sort of hung 'round 
 within hailing distance, as ye might say." 
 
 " She's worthy of it," said Rob, and his flushed 
 tanned face straightened out drawn and thin as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " Jim, you understand. If it was for her, if she were 
 my wife oh, God living and digging there in Power 
 Lot anything wouldn't be hard. It would be great, 
 Jim. But I'm up against something rocky that I don't 
 clearly understand, either; and the very thought of it 
 sickens me, old man." 
 
 " Well, I've looked at it this way : if I could care for 
 her and guard her a bit, if I could only win her respect ; 
 since I could not have her love, her respect is a mighty 
 good gauge to go by when a man's tryin' to make a 
 man of himself." 
 
 " Yes," said Rob, and a tingling look of pain turned 
 his face red again. " Yes, that's true, Jim. And you 
 have been a guard and a help to her, in ways some of 
 us know, though she doesn't begin to know it all. But 
 as for me, Jim, I've been more of a worry to her than
 
 THE TEST 285 
 
 anything else; and if she does finally marry Doctor 
 Margate for he is one not to give it up and if she 
 goes away, I I don't know as I could face it out, what 
 I've undertaken to do ; I don't know as it would be of 
 any use." 
 
 " Well, if you were just doing it for her to look at, 
 and approve, and perhaps applaud ye, I don't believe 
 she would respect ye for that. But if you've made a 
 contract between yourself and the A'mighty to fight 
 this fight out, like the splendid gentleman and wrestler 
 that you are, Rob Hilton, why, of course, you wouldn't 
 give up your contract, whether Mary Stingaree was 
 looking on or not. Besides, I don't know that it's love 
 she feels for ye I don't suppose it is but it's an in- 
 terest; and I tell ye right now, it would break her 
 heart if you cut the traces or bungled your job or came 
 home stuttering and silly with drink, now." 
 
 " I reckon she would not break her heart much over 
 me," said Rob, with a smile poignant with the hopeless 
 sweetness of the thought. 
 
 " Then you don't know her." 
 
 " That isn't love," said poor Rob ; " that's philan- 
 thropy, pure and simple. I don't give a tuppence 
 for it." 
 
 " Mary makes out they're one and the same thing 
 something steadf 'st something to hold by ; and, by 
 God, I believe she's right. Look at Bate he thinks 
 sometimes he loves Cuby, but what does that kind of 
 love amount to? " 
 
 I had forgotten for the instant Rob's relation to 
 that matter. He turned cold and white. Then he 
 spoke, through set teeth.
 
 286 POWER LOT 
 
 " Jim, do you consider that I'm like Bate Stingaree? " 
 
 " No, lad not for a minute." 
 
 The slumbering storm in his blue eyes turned them 
 black; then he bit his lips and melted. 
 
 " After all," he said, " I was going to make a chum 
 of him when I first came and there's excuse for him ; 
 but I had a great chance in the world. Oh, Jim, what 
 a fool I've been ! What a fool, fool, fool ! I wish you'd 
 lose your rudder, I wish you'd lose your bearings, and 
 we could get carried where we should never hear of 
 Power Lot, nor any other day of my past life again." 
 
 " We're right there, now. You take the helm o* 
 yerself an' yer life this blessed minute, an' it'll be just 
 the same as if ye'd always steered." 
 
 "What? That isn't true." 
 
 " I'm running myself on wrong principles, then. But 
 I ain't running on wrong principles. I know what I'm 
 about. So long as Pm steering steady, so long as I'm 
 steering true, and my hand fails not and my heart 
 quails not, who's a-going to throw it up at me that I 
 been shipwrecked once on a time, or run aground on the 
 shoals somewheres? What do I care if they do? Who 
 don't get wrecked in one way 'r another? That ain't 
 the point; it's what I'm doing now concerns me; and 
 just because I had my fling on the rocks an' swallered 
 brine till I was pretty near done for, I know the sea 
 better, an' better how to sail 'er now. I know better 
 where the rocks an' shoals lays for me, Rob." 
 
 " Well, that may be true." 
 
 " I'm steerin' steadier, I'm steerin' truer 'n what I 
 was, and I shall come into port by an' by like a man 
 ought to come. Best o' all, maybe, I got a ballas' o'
 
 THE TEST 287 
 
 pity along with me now f'r all manner o' shipwrecked 
 men everywheres. I ain't lost nothin', so 's I mind my 
 helm now I got gain by it." 
 
 " Sure, it would brace a fellow up if he could look 
 at it that way." 
 
 " Rob, I kind o' wonder at the way you flat out some- 
 times, and I wish to thunder you'd get up on your hind 
 legs and stay there, and steer yourself on, with a 
 don't-give-a-d n f r everythin' 'xceptin 5 your straight 
 course, like the brave cuss you be." 
 
 Rob tried to smile, but something of this bright day 
 had turned to ashes ; he was thinking still of the woman 
 he had no hope to win, and maybe he was thinking it 
 would make no difference, therefore, if he shirked the 
 whole fight. I tried to buoy myself up to hope for 
 the best. In my soul I felt that there was trouble 
 coming. He recovered from his fit of depression, but 
 ah, the reckless, laughing wind, the tossing sea, and 
 freedom. Never siren sang to tempted man as the 
 elements sang to Rob that day. 
 
 He did not seem to crave the drink, even when he had 
 an opportunity that it was not considered one bit po- 
 lite, among the Waldeckers, to refuse. When we had 
 sold his potatoes at a fancy price at Burt's market 
 and they were fancy potatoes too, having turned out 
 extra smooth and pretty, as things sometimes do for 
 children and folks who don't understand the game 
 Burt said, friendly : 
 
 " Come on over across and take somethin' to swash 
 the mildew out o' yer throats. Come on." He was 
 putting on his coat to go out with us. I wished that 
 I'd had a chance to tip the wink to Burt beforehand
 
 288 POWER LOT 
 
 not to be offering his hospitalities. I need not have 
 had any fears on that score. 
 
 " Thank you very much," said Rob, as monotonous 
 and indifferent as you've sometimes heard a boy speak 
 his piece in school. " I don't drink. I don't care for 
 it. I'll wait for you, Jim." 
 
 " Oh, Jim ain't got into long pants yet, neither," 
 said Burt, laughing. " The invitation was to you, 
 young man. Wai', it's a fool thing, this drinkin'. 
 Give my regards to the rest o' the infant class," he 
 remarked drolly, in a low tone, as we went out. 
 
 Rob drew me out of sight with him into the lee of 
 an old shop, and counted his money again. Two hun- 
 dred dollars in banknotes. 
 
 " And not long ago I was swiping an egg to get a 
 postage stamp, Jim," he chuckled, and his white teeth 
 shone. 
 
 He took out a twenty-dollar note, put it in his 
 purse, and stowed away the rest in an inside pocket, 
 with a double row of pins which I was able to make 
 over to him from the lapel of my coat as a further 
 safeguard to his treasure. 
 
 " I am going into potato- raising," said Rob, joy- 
 ously, as we swung off. " I'm going into the business 
 on a big scale, Jim. Your Burt, there, told me he'd 
 take and export any quantity o 5 such potatoes as those 
 I brought him. I'll have more land when I rent the 
 Treet place, and another season, I'll have a thousand 
 dollars " he patted his breast, where the money lay 
 " where now I've only two hundred. I shouldn't wonder 
 if I'd rent more land, and set other people to work for 
 me. Good Lord ! " spoke this son of a speculator, " I
 
 THE TEST 289 
 
 should think you fellows would have seen there's money 
 in it, Jim. Here am I, a greenhorn at the business, and 
 there's not another man in Power Lot, bluffs or River, 
 that '11 stow away two hundred dollars in his pocket 
 this season what are you nil thinking of, I wonder." 
 
 So elated was he, he had even forgotten the vora- 
 cious hunger on which we had passed some sympathetic 
 remarks only a little while before. 
 
 " Well, Rob, I was thinking of dinner ; and there'll 
 be lots of dinners to be looked out for, if you stand as 
 the head of a family this coming winter, and possible 
 illness, and chances of poor luck, and all that. Go 
 careful on that two hundred dollars, Rob." 
 
 The sordid future rose before him again, and per- 
 haps I did unwisely to harp on that string of mean 
 necessity and hard duty. Rob's inflation as a moneyed 
 individual, and for the first time in his life a sporter 
 of banknotes earned through his own efforts, abun- 
 dantly sustained him, though. 
 
 " Come on, old man," he said, putting an arm on my 
 shoulder, " I'm starving. It's my treat this time, mind 
 you. I owe all I got to you, anyway. We'll blow out 
 for all the grub they can show up. Where are the 
 frescoed dining-halls of Waldeck, eh? " 
 
 Now, I had quite a bit of money saved in the bank 
 .not much, but more than Rob had snugged against his 
 breast. But he had all the air of a rich man. It was 
 ingrained in him, and a sort of ease and grace, born 
 to him when he was born ; it did not make any difference 
 that his hands had grown rough, and that linen collars 
 and cuffs were a dream of the past. He looked every 
 inch an easy gentleman, and as if he were sporting in
 
 290 POWER LOT 
 
 flannel shirt and the potato-business just for the lark 
 of the thing. 
 
 We had our meal together at the only restaurant in 
 Waldeck, a coarse place, where the draught sweeping 
 in from the water on one side, and the infernal suction 
 of a quarry-well on the other, was so stiff that in one 
 instance it actually took up a corner of the tablecloth 
 and with it knocked the vinegar cruet into the sugar 
 bowl and swept the pepper-box clean off on to the 
 floor. 
 
 Rob was hilarious, notwithstanding that the tea was 
 weak. The admiring waitress hovered over him as if 
 he had been a young god. 
 
 "Shall I shet the windows, sir?" she said, looking 
 exclusively at Rob. 
 
 " No," said Rob. " Great Tamarack, no ! We live 
 on wind that's where we hail from this is nothing but 
 a cooling zephyr to us. No, sweet maiden let her 
 blow." 
 
 He emptied the remainder of the vinegar into the 
 sugar-bowl and stirred it briskly. " Bring us some 
 soda, if you please, fair maiden," he observed, still 
 briskly stirring, " and we will show you some superla- 
 tive * fizz.' Hasten the compound waits only for the 
 enlivening application of saleratus." The gale blew 
 his fair hair in a tangle over his forehead, and his 
 teeth gleamed. The girl giggled ecstatically, as though 
 such wit had never before scintillated through that base 
 apartment. 
 
 " I tell you," she murmured, with an air of confid- 
 ing her very soul to Rob, " if you want that ' fizz,' as 
 you call it you can get it fine over to the hotel. This
 
 THE TEST 291 
 
 place ain't got no style to it, anyway. You can get 
 champagne, or anything you want, over to the hotel; 
 it's a lot better than this place, and stylisher." She 
 tossed her head, as one with cosmopolitan experience 
 though circumscribed in vocation by low necessity. 
 
 Rob put on a sober look. " You ought not to tell 
 that to young fellows from the country," said he whim- 
 sically. " However, I am not going to the hotel. I'm 
 a married man, I believe, and I am going down here 
 to the furniture store to get some housekeeping things 
 for my Tootsy-Wootsy. Isn't that so, Captain Tur- 
 bine? Come, Captain, however regretfully, I suppose 
 we must be on the move." 
 
 He haled me forth by my official title, leaving a fee 
 for the girl on the table. She picked it up, but did not 
 even thank him: she watched his retreat from the door 
 so sadly. 
 
 " Come on, Jim," said the light-hearted Rob, " I'm 
 going to blow out this twenty dollars in some parlor 
 knick-knacks to please Cuby." 
 
 The very fact that he urged me to go with him scat- 
 tered every lingering doubt in my mind as to his re- 
 liability and good faith. I had business of my own to 
 attend to, and we had only an hour before the tide 
 would serve for sailing back. As for the train, Rob 
 had never once looked that way, though there was a 
 great noise of loading freight from the wharf in the 
 distance, and the engine stood puffing there in the 
 yards. 
 
 I went on about my own affairs. At two o'clock I 
 went down to the boat, as agreed. There were Rob's 
 parlor gimcracks nicely stowed away, and I whistled
 
 292 POWER LOT 
 
 about, getting ready to run up sail, sure every moment 
 I'd see his bright face appearing to me. 
 
 Rob did not come. It was time for the train to pull 
 out from the yard. The lad might be watching among 
 the loafers there. He was a great hand for a laugh 
 and a joke with anybody and a bit of excitement. So 
 I marched over, but there was no handsome, stalwart 
 Rob in that slouching group. Something got a hard 
 grip at my heart. I rushed through every car on the 
 train, searching. I knew the conductor. He let me 
 work my way, tumbling and searching, through the 
 freight. 
 
 "What's up, Jim?" he called to me, and "All 
 aboard," in the same breath, and the train was moving 
 when I jumped. 
 
 Probably Rob was down in the boat waiting for me. 
 Still I did not doubt him, and I turned, shamefaced, 
 trusting that he had not seen my crazy leap from the 
 train. I could see the boat stepping idly to her anchor 
 in the harbor, but no blond head shining there. Still 
 I did not doubt. He was loitering about somewhere in 
 the dirty little town ; some tobacconist's, or candy shop 
 (with a special thought to Rhody), or some dog fight, 
 or Punch and Judy show that would be Rob, nursing 
 out his holiday to the fullest extent. 
 
 So I paced up and down the one " Main " street, 
 looking in everywhere, and making my affectedly light- 
 hearted inquiry. 
 
 " Seen a tall fellow? good-looking, light hair, blue 
 flannel shirt, sort of showy necktie ; thought you might 
 'a* seen him swaggering along somewheres fine-look- 
 ing fcllu.v, you'd 'a' noticed him."
 
 THE TEST 293 
 
 " Seen him around with you, whiles back," was the 
 invariable response ; " ain't seen him since." 
 
 Search was made at the hotel ; there too I knew the 
 proprietor. Back and forth from the town to the 
 boat I went. At dusk I entered the forlorn restaurant 
 again. 
 
 " You seen my friend anywhere? " I said carelessly, 
 to the girl. 
 
 " Te, he ! " she tittered, " I thought you'd lose him. 
 No, / ain't seen him," she added, with the regretful 
 accents of truth. 
 
 I ordered my supper as the natural excuse for my 
 entrance. 
 
 " ' Tootsy-Wootsy' '11 have to wait a while for her 
 pretty things," said Miss, knowingly, as she brought 
 me my tea. " Hubby's over to the hotel getting some 
 1 fizz,' after all, I reckon." 
 
 " No," said I, cheerily ; " he ain't that kind." 
 
 And I forced down my supper, though the food choked 
 me. 
 
 Then, from Main Street to the boat, with an air of 
 loafing and sauntering, I alternated, like the pendulum 
 of a clock. I gave up the boat, and paced the street 
 till the last light went out and every shed and store was 
 black as the night staring coldly at me; and then I 
 began to curse Rob in my soul, for a weak liar and a 
 coward. 
 
 I took a room at the hotel and turned in to bed. I 
 could not sleep. My love for Rob had turned to stone. 
 I longed to see him beaten, thrashed, and I would have 
 borne a hand in doing it. But to go back without him 
 to-morrow, the cause of his ruin ; who had so trusted
 
 294 POWER LOT 
 
 him, and who would have given my lifcblood for him 
 to go back without him, and to meet Mary ! 
 
 I ground my teeth. " The cur, he is," I said, " the 
 thankless, foolish, selfish, miserable cur." And thus 
 anchored on the rock of indignation, with weariness in 
 every bone, I sank off into a troubled sleep.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 " HE WILL STAND " 
 
 IT was a drizzly, foggy morning, scarcely daylight, 
 when a repeated knocking at my door wakened me. 
 
 I cared no more than as if I had been lead my heart 
 was leaden ; my senses, numbed by chagrin and despair, 
 were leaden. It might be afternoon I might be sleep- 
 ing over still another tide for all I cared. 
 
 The knocking grew more distinct. 
 
 " Who is there and what do ye want? " I growled. 
 
 " Jim," said a voice, and I started from my bed, 
 for it was Rob's voice, only husky and weak, like the 
 ghost of Rob. 
 
 " Drunk ! " I muttered to myself. But it was he 
 Rob and I sprang to the door and opened it. 
 
 Such a sight never saw I before in the gray of the 
 morning. I drew him in, horrified, and locked the door 
 behind us. His hair was matted with blood, his face 
 bruised and caked with mire and blood, his shirt and 
 trousers were in rags, and one hand hung helpless at 
 his side. 
 
 " My God, Rob ! " said I, and began the work of bath- 
 ing and binding up his wounds without another word. 
 When I had his face recognizable again, and found 
 that his arm was not broken, only so painfully sprained 
 that it was almost worse, he lay back on the pillows, his 
 lips drawn and pinched with suffering, his eyes sunken 
 like a man's who has been to the grave itself. 
 295
 
 296 POWER LOT 
 
 " Jim," said he hoarsely, " I never touched a drop. 
 Jim I give you my word, before my Creator, there 
 was no drink in this night's business." 
 
 " I believe you, Rob. Never mind about explaining 
 now. Rest a bit." 
 
 " And they took my money every scrap of it." 
 
 "What! In God's name " 
 
 " I went after we parted there to get the things 
 for Cuby and I carried them down to the boat 
 
 " Wait a bit, wait a bit, laddie let's fix these pillows 
 here. There's time enough, wait a little, now " 
 
 " No I want to tell you. Then I went back to the 
 town and bought some little trifles for Mrs. Skipper 
 and Rhody and I bought half-a-dozen cigars. I'm 
 such a dam' fool of a young one, Jim, I'd had that pleas- 
 ing my mind and tickling my shopping-list, all the time, 
 how I'd get half-a-dozen prime cigars for you and me 
 to smoke going home." 
 
 He smiled, and I let him take his own way for reel- 
 ing off his yarn, for it was lying heavy on him till it 
 was spoken. He was there Rob, himself with truth 
 shining like sunlight on his poor, hurt face ; and if any 
 degree of the high joy and gush of love and yearning 
 that I felt for him then showed in the smile I gave him 
 back, he must have thought I was a soft one for a son 
 of Neptune. 
 
 " And I got them," he went on, " and coming out of 
 the shop you know how the quarry runs along there 
 dark back of the shops for a ways, along there 
 I thought, if I could get into an alleyway maybe 
 it would shut off the wind enough for me to strike a 
 match and light up my old pipe.
 
 "HE WILL STAND" 297 
 
 " I was holding the match protected in the scoop of 
 my hand and was leaning forward to light up when 
 a blow with a loaded club struck me terribly on the 
 head and, Jim, the last thing I saw, and all I saw in 
 that flash as I fell hush you come nearer I saw 
 Bate Stingaree's hand. I know that hand and I saw 
 it. It was there, Jim, over me as sure as judgment 
 day I know that hand and I saw it. 
 
 " The next thing I knew when I came to I was 
 lying among the rocks and mire at the bottom of that 
 quarry ; but where I was, at first, I did not know. Jim, 
 it was hell black dead o' night and one arm no 
 good only sending tortures through me. I felt the 
 mire around me and I crawled and felt the rocks each 
 side ; and it may have been I don't know how long 
 before the blow came back to me, and the sight, sure, 
 of that dreadful, familiar hand and I realized that I 
 had been thrown over into the quarry for dead ; and if 
 I'd come to half an hour later, the tide that fills up 
 everything would have covered me, too. 
 
 " I did not cry out nor call I thought they might 
 be hiding somewhere about. I tried to climb out, but 
 in the darkness I had to go by feeling, and only one 
 arm to work with and I'd fall back and have to begin 
 again. How long it seemed down there, Jim, only God 
 knows till morning came enough so I could see the 
 outline of things faint and then I managed to climb 
 up ; and I reasoned it out you would be here at the 
 hotel. My body was in agony ; but I think that 
 blow " 
 
 Rob actually laughed, and the sunken blue eyes 
 darkened wide with mirth " I think that blow has
 
 298 POWER LOT 
 
 cleared my head as nothing ever did before, Jim, and 
 knocked all fear out of me, for big things or little, 
 forevermore. I saw things clear. I limped up here 
 the janitor and his boy were pottering around gather- 
 ing some kindlings in the sheds, and the back doors 
 were open. I passed in, not caring whether they saw 
 me or not they did not see me no one else was stir- 
 ring. I went up to the slate where they register guests 
 in the office, and found your name and the number of 
 your room and here I am. God bless you, Jim, is it 
 really your face looking down at me? I thought once 
 I should die there without getting to you. And 
 I'm cleaned out a pauper again a penniless, crip- 
 pled " 
 
 " You are not going to be crippled," said I, " and 
 in a week's time you'll be as pretty as ever. But I'm 
 going out to get some liniment and bandages for 
 that arm of yours. You lie back now and take a 
 nap." 
 
 " Since you give me my choice," said Rob, still carry- 
 ing on by way of a joke, though his teeth were chatter- 
 ing with pain, " I'll wait to take my nap till you've 
 brought something to ease this arm. Say, Jim, it hurts 
 so I can fairly hear it ache. Kite out that's a good 
 fellow and hurry up." 
 
 I had a doctor there within the next fifteen minutes. 
 
 " Better give him a little nip o' something to brace 
 him up while I find out what's the matter with this arm," 
 said the doctor significantly; "he's pretty well run 
 down." 
 
 " Oh, you get to work, sir, I don't want any dose," 
 Rob replied impatiently. " I'm game this isn't a pin-
 
 "HE WILL STAND" 299 
 
 prick to what I've been through, soul and body. Only 
 hurry up, please get to work." 
 
 Sawbones looked at him curiously, and stretched the 
 poor arm, and worked it this way and that; and Rob, 
 white as death, with his teeth clenched, never uttered a 
 moan. Relief came presently, though, from the ap- 
 plications the good man put on, and Rob turned over 
 on the pillows and slept like an infant. 
 
 I locked the bedroom door behind me, and left word 
 no one was to disturb the occupant there. My purpose 
 was to get to the bank for a couple o' hundred dollars 
 that I meant should go back to Power Lot in Rob's 
 pocket, after all; and to get to the furnishing store 
 for some whole clothes for the lad. I found it was still 
 too early to get admission either to bank or shops. 
 So I crept up the hotel stairs again. I was for all the 
 world like an old bird hovering over a nest. I turned 
 the key softly and took a look at my fledgling. He was 
 sleeping so deeply, free from pain, you could almost 
 see the bliss of his rest in a halo 'round him. I drew 
 the blinds down, against the sun should rise that far, 
 for it was already making signs of burning up through 
 the fog; then I went out again on tiptoe, locking my 
 tragic young potato-farmer safe behind me. 
 
 The wind was beginning to leap up from the nor'- 
 west a bit, and my heart was taking a swing with it. 
 Rob had been true, and by the miracle of God his 
 bruised body was safe alive. I'd never cease to be 
 grateful for that to my dying day. I went down to 
 my boat and overhauled her, to have all in readiness 
 for sailing if Rob should waken fit for it later in the 
 day. As I went back along Main Street I heard the
 
 300 POWKR LOT 
 
 usual clattering in the restaurant, and the impulse took 
 me to turn in there. By the time I had discussed some 
 breakfast, and put a few observations to the table-girl, 
 the bank would be open and I could get through busi- 
 ness and make back to feed and clothe the nestling, who 
 would be eager for trying his wings again as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 " Wai'," said the girl commiseratingly, " here you 
 be again, all by your lonesome. I guess he found the 
 hotel, all right, and hasn't had to use no saleratus to 
 make his drink beady te-he ! He's takin' a good, long 
 nap this mornin', I reckon? " 
 
 " That's just where you are mistaken," said I gayly ; 
 " he hasn't touched a drop of drink of any kind. Re's 
 all right." 
 
 Her face fell, and she said insolently, " Why doesn't 
 he come and have breakfast with you, then ? " 
 
 "Oh, he's a swell; he'll take his breakfast at the 
 hotel," I made answer ; " he's something rather choice." 
 She set the remaining dishes down very noisily at my 
 plate. 
 
 " You didn't see any other friends o* mine in here 
 yesterday, did ye? " said I, with a bald attempt at 
 being genial. 
 
 " You must be a lunkhead," she rejoined, " how do I 
 know who your friends are? " 
 
 " Sure. You're right. But, for instance now, a 
 dark fellow, sort of surly acting, wonder if you saw 
 him?" 
 
 " Guess he wasn't anxious for your company. Him 
 and another man sneaked in here, soon as you and 
 your * choice ' article left."
 
 "HE WILL STAND" 301 
 
 " Him and the Frenchman? " 
 
 " French or Dutch or Portugee, what do I care? " 
 
 " Of course not." I placed a fee for her on the 
 table and spoke lightly. " They did not say among 
 themselves where they left their boat, did they? She 
 wasn't visible in harbor." 
 
 "No," said she shortly. "They acted like a pair 
 of sneaks, and gobbled their vittles, and lit out. Thank 
 ye " she picked up the silver, but hustled about as 
 though it were my business to be gone. Rob would 
 never have had such brusque treatment at her hands. 
 Little I cared. Rob's vision of the familiar hand as he 
 fell was no hallucination. If the blow had cleared his 
 head, it had mazed and staggered mine. 
 
 That Bate mingled some idiocy with his brutality, 
 I knew. But how could he follow us to Waldeck and 
 dine immediately after we did at the restaurant, and 
 expect to go undetected of those criminating circum- 
 stances? Then I remembered the slow, morbid working 
 of his mind, with hate and revenge paramount as a 
 motive; he had meant, no doubt, to " make a good job 
 of it," and by a hand's turn luck might have favored 
 him. A few moments more and the tide would have 
 sucked in over Rob. 
 
 If the lad's body had been discovered at ebb tide the 
 conclusion would have been that he had staggered along 
 the quarry edge hopelessly drunk, and had fallen over ; 
 his wounds would all have been accounted for by that 
 fact. It was that one glimmer of a marked hand before 
 Rob's reeling senses that fixed the crime at Bate's door. 
 Not only would he have thrown Rob's body to de- 
 struction, but the fair name for which the boy had
 
 802 POWER LOT 
 
 struggled so painfully and long; that would have gone 
 down, too, with the undeserved stigma of " drunkard " 
 at last and of one faithless and fallen, who had proven 
 so faithful, who, in spite of every temptation, had 
 stood erect and true. 
 
 And one complication of it was that Mary must not 
 know the details of this day's work. To shield and 
 rescue Bate she had spent life and substance. To save 
 him in the end was, after all, her chief earthly ambition. 
 She must not know. I would seek him out by himself, 
 and I would send terror through his soul. He should 
 walk straight hereafter for fear of me. But Mary 
 must not know. 
 
 So I did my errands in the town, winning out to this 
 conclusion of the matter, and with the next tide Rob 
 and I set sail for home. It was not till we had clipped 
 past Barstake Island to a fair wind that Rob, fingering 
 over his new jacket with his able hand, found the 
 pocket secured by two rows of pins, just as the old one 
 had been. Blushing and trembling, he worked in and 
 found the roll of two hundred dollars. 
 
 " D n you, Jim," said the boy, in a queer voice that 
 belied the malediction of his words ; and he put his head 
 down and sobbed before he could speak again. 
 
 " You know what I meant, Jim. You're enough to 
 make a man want to live, just because there is such a 
 one as you to be his friend. But I can't take it, Jim." 
 
 " See here," said I, reasonable, " there ain't any 
 sentiment about this. I'd give my blood for you, lad, 
 and all I have for you, for that matter. You're true. 
 But it isn't that. We've got to go on, you and I, as 
 if nothing had happened. Mary must not know about
 
 "HE WILL STAND" 303 
 
 this business of Bate's. She never would know from 
 you " 
 
 I stopped him, for the splendid loyalty and vindica- 
 tion that blazed in his eyes. 
 
 " I know that, Rob. Never would she have known 
 from you. I don't need your word. I would take my 
 dying oath on it, on the Bible, she never would know, 
 from you. But we've got to act this thing out reason- 
 able. You've got to go home to Mary's with your 
 money. And, Rob, don't you fret ; you'll pay it back to 
 me. I am thinking," I sighed, " it may be easier than 
 you think, now, for you to pay it back to me sometime. 
 That '11 be all right. Meanwhile, you and I have got 
 to work together in this business, hand in hand." 
 
 "Jim, I'm a great ass of a baby, with my cheap 
 pride, and all ; but I wanted to say that first to you 
 * Mary must not know.' I've said it over and over to 
 myself times enough. / wanted to say it to you." 
 
 " You didn't need to. I knew it of you." 
 
 " Jim, if I don't pay it back, it won't be for lack of 
 anything a man can do or bear or deny himself." 
 
 " I know, Rob. You needn't to talk." 
 
 We went up to the Stingaree house together. I 
 wanted to do that, and Rob let me Rob, with his face 
 patched up with courtplaster and his arm in a sling. 
 It was night, and for some reasons, we were glad of 
 that. 
 
 Well, if I'm anything in line of descent from a 
 wizard, I'm surely mighty soft-born of humanity, too, 
 so far as reading people's hearts from their faces go ; 
 and something got settled in my heart for good and 
 all when Mary Stingaree opened the door and met us.
 
 304 POWER LOT 
 
 Some lives seem, anyway, just to run a predestined 
 course of " giving up," " giving up," and, on any 
 occasion when they wouldn't do it voluntarily, having 
 to give up, until it turns by way of being a sort of meat 
 and drink to them ! you don't know but there's a fashion 
 of enjoyment of its own goes along with it, like you 
 can acquire a taste for bitter things, and make the 
 best of it, and reckon it's all going to sum up for 
 good, somehow, somewhere. 
 
 It was not for old Jim Turbine that look in Mary's 
 eyes ; it was not for any thought in her heart for the 
 great doctor; it was a look straight out of her soul, 
 that she could not help, for that big, winsome, tragic- 
 joy of a young man, Robert Hilton. 
 
 And the deuce of it was see what a pair of haggard 
 eyes and a score or so of bruises will do for a fellow ! 
 he was not one bit of a simpleton to her any more. I 
 believe, true, that blow and fall had sent him up instead 
 of down, after all. He was a man glorious from head 
 to foot, a sort of veteran, grave-faced, square-shoul- 
 dered, plastered up though he was, with his maimed 
 arm ; he met her look straight. 
 
 " Miss Stingaree," said he, " I met with an accident. 
 But on my word as a man, it was not drink. I never 
 touched a drop." 
 
 " I'm witness to that," said I. 
 
 " Rob's word does not need any witness," said Mary, 
 very softly, very gently, to us both. 
 
 Tears of triumph and joy sprang to Rob's eyes. 
 And I too well, I was content, as I trudged home alone 
 in the dark. She, who had been my learned lady, and 
 above all flesh, was mortal after all. How sweet to
 
 "HE WILL STAND" 305 
 
 ecstasy, that thought might be to the mortal who had 
 made her mortal, a man can imagine. But Rob was too 
 slow, and had been too deeply hurt once upon a time by 
 her incisively expressed disapproval of him. Once he 
 would have thrown himself to earth with joy, just to 
 touch the hem of her dress ; now she was too far away 
 for him to make the interpretation of her kindness one 
 of common mortal accessibility. 
 
 Moreover, he was bound, and she was the lost glory 
 of his dreams afar off in the sweet elysium of the things 
 that " cannot be." 
 
 " My lady," said I, tramping on alone, " and may it 
 all be as you wish, and it shall be, if Jim Turbine can 
 help ; but it was a proud heart you struck low in Rob 
 Hilton as proud as it was simple and humble, if I 
 may so speak. And your soulful eyes will have to tell 
 their story more than once before he'll look into them 
 with any hope to find his heaven."
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL EXPOSITION 
 
 IT was wonderful to me, how the Baptist church at 
 the River got Cuby Tee-bo to act the part of " Grief " 
 in their big Sunday-school exposition. 
 
 The girl was troubled and lonely, and they began to 
 take an interest in her to draw her in ; perhaps they 
 saw the only way was to ascribe a prominent and showy 
 part to her ; and she consented with quiet dignity, and 
 acted her part with an eclat that knocked the rest of 
 them stupid with admiration and amaze. 
 
 For me, it is all a tender memory to me now; but 
 we were a hawk-wild set all along the shore there ; and 
 it is not because I am making fun, the Lord knows, but 
 if you would relate truthfully what takes place, why, 
 you must just relate it, that is all ; and to my thinking, 
 mirth is not anything light ; it's just the fall of the rain- 
 drops where mighty clouds have rolled and lightnings 
 clashed. 
 
 Anyway, I am but relating. 
 
 Old man Trawles was the only one they considered 
 fit to act as chairman, on account of his natural dignity 
 and faithfulness in past attendance, besides having the 
 only real tall silk hat anywhere in that region ; and 
 perhaps most of all, the fact that he was going to marry 
 Caroline Treet mantled him with a sort of general in- 
 terest and sanctity. 
 
 And he consented to conduct the Sunday-school ex- 
 
 306
 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOL EXPOSITION 307 
 
 position just as readily as Cuby had to act the principal 
 part in it. 
 
 "Now, Jacob," said Mrs. Treet, with a maiden 
 blush at this use of her fiance's name, "when you 
 git up thar' to lead the meetin' don't you go to reelin' 
 off too cunnin' and long a yarn o' yer own ; but tickle 
 'em up so's they'll allus be likely to put ye at the head. 
 What will tickle 'em most is few words from you, for 
 what they'll come to see and hear is young folks play- 
 actin', and especially how that dancin' sea-squall an' 
 careenin' flyin'jib of a Cuby Tee-bo '11 look actin' out 
 a lesson in Scriptur'. Say no more, for although I 
 know the mericle o' the grain o' mustard seed, yet I 
 have to own up to you here an' now an' seek f'rgive- 
 ness ef I need ter be f 'rgiven that I could as easy cry 
 as laugh." 
 
 "The sayin' is, * Whosoever will,' Car'line," said 
 sweet little Mrs. Skipper, who was also making a call at 
 the house of the bride-elect. " I've heerd that the synod 
 refused to help keep up the meet'n-house down thar' 
 any longer ef they didn't make 't least one convart a 
 year." 
 
 " Ef they knew Cuby," said Caroline, speaking from 
 a muse of simple meditation, " they'd ought ter allow 
 a five-year lease jest on makin* a convart out o' her 
 alone, ef the' wa'n't no other dippin' in all that len'th 
 o' time, I mean. But I guess it won't git so fur as that. 
 What Cuby wants ter do is ter show off her smartness. 
 But don't speak the word; f'r I hold by the grain o' 
 mustard seed all the same, an' nobody's a-goin' ter rip 
 the mericles out o' my Bible. Whilst I hold by it all, 
 I'm plumb firmer on them than I be on ary other thing."
 
 308 POWER LOT 
 
 " It don't need any mericle to save you, Caroline," 
 said her betrothed, gazing complacently upon her. 
 
 " That's as may be," assented Caroline, with a look 
 of considerable gratification ; " though my conniptions 
 when my sin fulness first come home to me an' the 
 preacher made out his descriptions o' hell wasn't out- 
 done by any at the goslin' age I then was. Thar' was 
 some tang to that kind o' yeast, an' it has leavened 
 on me up ever sence, though my c'nvictions has learned 
 to spread themselves out in a calmer aspect, sech as is 
 more becomin' to my years." 
 
 Jacob was about to assert that her years were still 
 green and tender, but she waved him aside with a 
 communication of her own. 
 
 " Do you, Jacob, whatever the goin's-on may be 
 down 't the exp'sition, do you make quick an' haughty 
 work o' the part they've giv' you to act in it, an' then 
 lay off an' let them * salt their own meal an' chase their 
 own b'ars,' as the sayin' is." 
 
 Mrs. Skipper seemed a little shocked. 
 
 " It's a great compliment to Jacob, I'm sure," she 
 said, " f'r them to ask him ter lead off the meet'n'. 
 But it ain't hardly the place ter be haughty. The r'al 
 true way is to go by the doctrines, an' jest stand an' 
 open yer mouth and let the Lord fill it." 
 
 " I seen that tried once," said Caroline, and the retro- 
 spective seriousness of her features caused even Mrs. 
 Skipper to listen with a mouth avid for tragedy. " Oh 
 my, ya-as, I seen that tried once, an' the proudest man 
 "t ever put his foot down in leathers was made so cheap 
 by it that I don't know as he'd ever 'a' got over it to 
 this day, ef he'd lived so long.
 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOL EXPOSITION 309 
 
 " Old Bots'll Hurtle, he'd come into the church under 
 some special quickenin' that didn't seem ter stay by 
 him very long, for he got as cantaclcarous as ever, 
 an' they tryin' ter hold him down to religion ; an' the 
 minister comes an' says, ' Bots'll, you ain't led off yit 
 on neither prayer nor testermony,' says he, ( an' I expect 
 you ter lead off next Sunday evenin' meet'n',' says he ; 
 and that meant somethin' in them days, when Sunday 
 evenin' meet'n's was as well attended as a carnival or 
 a auction is now. So, Bots'll, he begun a-studyin' up 
 on somethin' tur'ble high-flown, f 'r he was a vary proud 
 man ; but Mis' Bots'll who'd allus been in grace she 
 shut him off. * The' won't no sech talk as that from a 
 new convert go down with parson,' said she ; * you got 
 ter come down about ten pegs an' a lap-over,' said 
 she. 
 
 "'What d' ye mean?' says Bots'll. 'Why,' says 
 she, ' the only thing f'r you to do, an' the only thing 
 as parson '11 let you do, is for you to stan up, contrite 
 an' humble, as ye ought ter be, an' jest open yer mouth 
 an' let it be filled,' says she. 
 
 " ' Shucks,' says he, ' I ain't one o' that kind. You 
 could do it, an' easy,' says he to Mis' Bots'll, ' but I 
 run to somethin' besides gab,' says he. ' I'd do better 
 ter steddy up my piece beforehan'. But she kep' at 
 him, an' the minister kep' at him, that the' wan't no 
 sech pompous, hifalutin' works as them goin' ter do f'r 
 anybody so recent bro't under c'nviction ; so he snagged 
 out o' the whole subjec', glad ter let it drop off his 
 mind thinkin', as I suppose we all do, that to-morrer 
 might never come, or the minister furgit ter haul him 
 up, or somethin' ; but, no.
 
 310 POWER LOT 
 
 " I c'n hear the minister speakin' them words now 
 * Brother Bots'll Hurtle, we will listen to your tester- 
 mony.' Wai*, thar' he was, an' nothin' for it but ter 
 foller their recipy now, an' see what 'ud come of it, live 
 'r die, fa'r weather 'r foul ; so up he gits, sure enough, 
 an' no sooner had he riz on his feet but what he sets his 
 mouth open." 
 
 There followed a singular and untimely pause, dur- 
 ing which Caroline's thoughts seemed to drift gently 
 away to another channel. 
 
 Mrs. Skipper at last spoke, with a soft impatience. 
 
 "Was it filled, Car'line? " 
 
 " Nary so much as a fly offered," replied that foun- 
 tain of unfailing reminiscence, " though it was the 
 wane o' July, an' the meet'n'-house buzzed with 'em. 
 No, nothin' went in," she reasserted, with grave literal- 
 ness, " not even so much 's a fly. I set in the front row 
 o* the choir whar' all was plain ter see." 
 
 " How long'd he wait? " said little Mrs. Skipper, even 
 a proper sanctimony lost in her morbid avarice for the 
 conclusion of the tale. 
 
 " Wai'," responded Caroline, obligingly searching 
 her memory for the faithful particulars connected with 
 this most extraordinary affair, " he waited tell all 
 hopes was gone, that's sartin ; but he was a proud man 
 an' 'twan't easy ter give up. So he hung on tell Bill 
 Hants that was the best bass we ever had, an' set right 
 back o' me let out one o' them snorts o' his behind his 
 handkercher ; but he might as well blowed through a 
 foghorn f'r all the good the handkercher done him 
 to'ds deadenin' the sound ; it didn't meller of it down a 
 mite."
 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOL EXPOSITION 311 
 
 We looked to see if Caroline was struggling for an 
 assuagement of any irreverent smiles that might be 
 supposed to trouble her countenance at this point, but 
 that mild and lovely face remained unruffled; though 
 " Them was my goslin' years," she elucidated further, 
 " an' maybe I wa'n't hard set to it not ter let out a 
 screech o' some sort, myself; but women c'n allus hold 
 themselves under better 'n what men can." 
 
 " They can so, Car'line," said old man Trawles, re- 
 garding her adoringly. 
 
 But Mrs. Skipper sighed, still absorbed in Bost'll 
 Hurtle's speechless predicament. 
 
 " He didn't have the sperrit, ye see," said she. 
 
 " He had sperrit enough," affirmed our faithful nar- 
 rator ; " as soon as he got out o' that meet'n'-house 
 you could 'a' heard him from Shag's Point to the Bay 
 o' Fundy. But he laid it out in sw'arin' at his old 
 flock o' sheep, that jes' as though he hadn't enough 
 already ter tanterlize him jumped fence that very 
 evenin' an' come caperin' down the road under a full 
 moon ter meet him an' conduc' him home from meet'n'. 
 Ef he was glad ter see 'em, ye'd never 'a' known it from 
 the tune he let fly at 'em. 
 
 " But," concluded Caroline, " all this misery, 
 strange ter say, only brung him an' Mis' Hurtle closer 
 tergether in the end, f'r they both laid it onto the 
 minister, an' stopped goin' ter meet'n', an' practiced 
 good works amongst their neighbors that was needy or 
 sick f'r the Hurtles was very forehanded folks an' 
 spoke mild ter each other, an' stuck clost tergether as 
 thieves all the rest o' their mortal lives." 
 
 " Poor creeturs," said Mrs. Skipper, with a hope
 
 312 POWER LOT 
 
 that she seemed to trust might not prove as illusory 
 as it appeared to her to be unorthodox. 
 
 Jacob Trawles, duly impressed by Caroline's warn- 
 ings, opened the Sunday-school exposition in due time 
 with a few extremely brief and dignified remarks. The 
 felicitations of a widely discursive mental ramble on 
 the part of the old lover had no doubt been reckoned on 
 by his audience ; but any such small matter of disap- 
 pointment was forgotten in the abundant wonder and 
 entertainment afforded by Cuby Tee-bo's acting. 
 
 She was to impersonate " Grief," and the young fry 
 of the Sunday-school were to mount the platform to 
 her, one by one, and try to solace her by handing her 
 each a bouquet and at the same time repeating a Scrip- 
 ture quotation to her, that was the whole scheme; but 
 Cuby made it sufficient in composition, ana thrilling 
 and ornate in practice. 
 
 She sailed on to the platform with a sweep and a 
 trailing of old sable-hued garments, lent from may 
 sources for the occasion. It was supposed that she 
 would stand up and declaim her part, I understood 
 it was so done in the rehearsals but having got 
 the whole ship under her command now, as it were, 
 she seemed to consider that it might take a tedious long 
 while for the children to get posted up fresh on their 
 recitations, and be made to hold their nosegays prop- 
 erly, and prodded up to mounting the stage before so 
 many people; so, what does she do, as soon as she'd 
 sailed on to the boards herself, but wave her hand with 
 all the hauteur and majesty of an accomplished tragedy 
 queen, and says she, in a deep contralto that filled every 
 part of the room:
 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOL EXPOSITION 313 
 
 " A chair. Bring to me a chair, and queeckly." 
 
 It wasn't long before she was provided with a chair, 
 and she sat down and arranged her draperies so they'd 
 give the most imposing effect all 'round her, then she 
 crossed her little feet, in some new boots, and stuck 'em 
 out where they'd show to the best advantage; and so, 
 being fixed all right " Grief " began her lingo in ex- 
 pectation of the advance of some young one or other 
 with a posy bunch and a Scripture passage. 
 
 " I am alone, alone," declaimed Cuby, in that splen- 
 did, pervading contralto, and with a self-possession 
 upon her beyond all words of mine to describe ; " alone 
 with my gret sorrow. The deep-a-ness of my woe and 
 dess-pair no mortal may know-a, or pour an a oint-a- 
 ment on the tears that weep of my bleeting, all-broken 
 hairt ; " and she took out a handkerchief and gave a 
 dab at her brown eyes, that were bright and gay as 
 jewels. 
 
 "What is there before me," she trained on, "but 
 the dar-r-rk entrance to the tomb where lays all the 
 daid folks." 
 
 Cuby's piece, at this point, was all spoken up ; it was 
 time for a kid to appear with a bouquet, which part of 
 the programme being still unaccountably delayed, the 
 leading lady proceeded to improvise without hesitation 
 or embarrassment. 
 
 " Where lays all the daid folks. Oh, my griff is so 
 drate-ful it is tuff tuff tuff " 
 
 At this crisis a small boy mercifully appeared on the 
 scene, his cheeks still wet with rebellious tears, and his 
 flowers of consolation trailing rudely at his side like 
 a string of mackerel.
 
 J3H POWER LOT 
 
 Cuby sighted him with what must have been relief, 
 though her manner recognized no possibility of failure 
 at any odds. 
 
 " Who are you ? " she demanded, according to rote 
 now, " who are you, that thus intrude upon the 
 s-s-sacr-r-red domen of my griff? Come you to mek 
 a mock at me? Depairt for me, I would fen be left 
 alone with my so drate-ful sorrow." 
 
 The solemnly enunciated words, the forbidding 
 hauteur in Cuby's stunning, bright eyes bewildered 
 the boy's progress beyond all hope. With a scream 
 he threw the bouquet in a passion of terror at her head, 
 and forgetting utterly the preconcerted text with which 
 he had come to assuage her grief, he fled from the 
 scene. 
 
 Cuby bit her lip contemptuously, but swung on, 
 undismayed, supplying the missing link in the ac- 
 tion of the piece by her own inventiveness and sang 
 froid. 
 
 "The Bible talks, w'at they bring at me," she 
 averred, " meks no deeference on my griff. It is con- 
 tinue on me all the sem. I theenk it grows worser on 
 me every meenute. Oh, it is tuff " 
 
 The flow of Cuby's improvisation was opportunely 
 interrupted by the approach this time of a little girl 
 in a starched white skirt and hair that had palpably 
 but just been released from a night's seclusion in curl 
 papers. She was a nervous little creature, and she 
 advanced rapidly, as one urged to keen endeavor by a 
 comparison of her case with that of the futile little 
 boy who had bawled stupidly and thrown his nosegay 
 at Cuby's head. She should have repeated first her
 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOL EXPOSITION 315 
 
 text of consolation, but in her wild haste she thrust 
 the bouquet instantly into Cuby's hand with a curtsy 
 done by lightning. 
 
 " Ezeekiel, first chapter, third verse," she threw out, 
 briskly enough, but there memory failed her. 
 
 "Ezekiel, first chapter, third verse," she shrieked 
 out once more desperately. 
 
 Cuby's proper proceeding was still to bewail her 
 woes, and to bid this new comforter also to " Begone." 
 But Cuby's heart was moved by the little girl's distress, 
 and originality and good sense triumphed over the 
 cold dictates of preconceived art. 
 
 " Do not you cry, Minnee," she said blandly, sooth- 
 ingly, and unspeakably at her ease. " Was you over 
 to the cove this mornin', Minnee? The leetle halibuts 
 is comin' in there fine. I seen a leetle girl no beeger 'n 
 as you ketch-a them off the w'arf. Ef you come to- 
 morrow, me, I tek care of you." 
 
 The familiar face and pleasant voice quite reassured 
 Minnie. She sucked down her expiring sobs by apply- 
 ing the hem of her skirt to her mouth. 
 
 " All right. I'll ask mamma I'll come, anyway," 
 she added hastily, "'cause mamma likes me to ketch 
 halibuts." 
 
 The play by this time varied so widely from its orig- 
 inal method, Cuby set it back into the channel with a 
 dash of her own. 
 
 " Go you down," she exhorted her latest comforter, 
 kindly and firmly, and as the sprite vanished Cuby 
 recollected her woes magnificently. 
 
 "Is there none, none," she cried, "that may halp 
 me in my so deso-olate'? Ah, woe iss to me; naught
 
 316 POWER LOT 
 
 naught can assweg' my griff but the dar-r-k passage 
 to the tomb." 
 
 Cuby was tremendous, her voice and manner wonder- 
 ful. I admired her without question, where I sat; 
 and as her eyes, after a fresh dab from her hand- 
 kerchief, glanced my way, I smiled my marveling ap- 
 plause. 
 
 " Grief " gave me a composed, almost undiscoverable 
 wink, clear to me alone; such was her art, it affected 
 not at all the tragic melodrama of her features; and 
 she continued superbly: 
 
 " C'iss, c'iss, to pile upon me the v'en and goddy 
 masses of your floral off'rings," she admonished the 
 empty stage. " C'iss to mek trouble me with your 
 v'en words of console'," she said, throwing up her 
 hands in piteous appeal against the tidy lot of com- 
 forters that were failing altogether to put in an ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 But Rhody Ditmarse had a part to do. She had been 
 supplied with a hat from some source I suspected her 
 adorer, Rob fit to make her eligible for select and 
 solemn occasions like the present; and her little soul 
 was full of business. For a week past she had been 
 curing up the warts on her tough little hands by the 
 approved methods known to Power Lot: that is, she 
 had split a bean and rubbed it over the afflicted mem- 
 bers and then buried it safe away under a rock. Some, 
 less conscientious, did the infected bean up in a neat 
 package and left it by the roadside, whereupon the one 
 who innocently picked it up transferred the wart to 
 his own person. Rhody's tried and stout little heart re- 
 volted at the thought of bringing any fresh calamity
 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOL EXPOSITION 317 
 
 upon the already overburdened and suffering human 
 race. Her bean was immune from working further ill. 
 
 So here she was, with a Sunday equipment by way of 
 raiment, and receding warts; one of the epitomes of 
 consolation who in due course was to approach " Grief," 
 erstwhile known as Cuby Tee-bo, with flowers and a 
 text. 
 
 It was not properly Rhody's turn, but the flag of 
 distress having been hoisted in behalf of the other com- 
 forters, she accepted without question the duty devolv- 
 ing prematurely upon her. Being sharp and quick of 
 memory, she had also assimilated as many of the lost 
 texts as possible with their accompanying bouquets; 
 and thus with intellect and body both weighted after 
 the similitude of a packhorse, she stepped sturdily up 
 on to the platform. Her dress, demurely long for a 
 child of her years, revealed only the strong founda- 
 tions of some cowhide shoes, which tramped across the 
 stage toward Cuby with the fearless and unrelenting 
 tread of Retribution itself. 
 
 " ' Thessalony ' ' Psa'ms ' * Coronations,' " grimly 
 did Rhody, with a citation of the proper authority in 
 every instance, deliver one text after another into the 
 light and inattentive ear of " Grief." " Grief " wearied 
 of the monologue. A speech of her own had been for 
 some time due, and she now interpolated the same 
 without hesitation. 
 
 " Biggone," said the sorrow-enthroned lady, fixing 
 upon Rhody a look of weary disgust. " Biggone. Thou 
 who would-est assweg' my griff, you mek me worser 
 you mek me seeck," she added daringly on her own 
 account, and she yawned for Cuby was healthy and
 
 318 POWER LOT 
 
 a regular sleeper, and the steady drone of Rhody's voice 
 was soporific. 
 
 "You are not to Biggone ' me, Cuby Tec-bo," 
 answered Rhody sternly. " Them that you was to say 
 * Biggone ' to has all giv' out. They won't come up, 
 and I'm a-doin' of it all ; and you got ter get com- 
 forted on me, an' boo-hoo an' repent, the way it is in 
 the book." 
 
 Cuby stared blankly at the unalterable severity 
 from what strain of Puritan ancestry, who knows? 
 cast upon little Rhody's features. But with a flash 
 of Latin adaptability, " Grief " triumphed, and still car- 
 ried off the situation at last with glory. 
 
 " So they come no more, Rhode' ? " she said gently, 
 with a soft sigh of satisfaction. 
 
 " You got ter git comforted on me," repeated 
 Rhody. 
 
 " My griff," now readily assented Cuby sweetly and 
 clearly, with splendid action, " my griff is all assweg'. 
 Your floral off'rings, your so swi't words from the 
 Holee Babble have lift' me up to mek of me a joy so 
 beeg as once was my so gre't griff. I bless-a an' 
 cariss-a you all, and will now retire to my apart-a-mong 
 to give t'anks for all w'at is on me." 
 
 Cuby rose, and sailed with a chastened, though 
 supreme, majesty from the stage. 
 
 Her performance was regarded as something tran- 
 scendent throughout. Other numbers of the evening's 
 programme, assumed by some of the maturer members 
 of the Sunday-school, followed; but they appeared 
 trite, they lacked salt and savor altogether, after what 
 had been.
 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOL EXPOSITION 319 
 
 When a little girl, whom you have seen wading 
 barefoot among the clam flats, or halloing like a boy 
 at you from some perch in the tree branches, suddenly 
 sails superbly before you, long and willowy in black 
 robes, a Madonna sweetness upon her features, a fault- 
 less self-possession in her bearing it sets you to won- 
 dering how it all came about. The toss of Cuby's head 
 at the congratulations she received, as she reappeared 
 brilliant in her accustomed beribboned garb among the 
 audience, did not detract from this marvel. 
 
 As for Rhody, she was accepted by the whole Sunday- 
 school, youth and eld, as a stalwart and promising 
 pillar miraculously supplied to a decaying tabernacle. 
 She went back to the bench where Rob sat with Mrs. 
 Skipper and Caroline. Rob's welcoming smile was 
 genial as the sun at noonday and expressed so much 
 pride of Rhody that she blushed slightly herself for 
 vanity of her performance for the first and only time 
 that evening. 
 
 But I was watching closely another face that had 
 but just entered, in a dim corner of the hall; a face 
 that was staring at Rob Hilton with a sort of fixed 
 horror. 
 
 On that night when I brought Rob home from Wai- 
 deck I had asked Mary if Bate was in the house. 
 " No," she said ; " Bate has not been here for two 
 nights, Jim." 
 
 Rob and I had landed late at night. No one had 
 seen us, and Rob with his inflamed arm had not been out 
 since until this evening. So I doubted if any word of 
 Rob, living, had reached Bate. 
 
 I made my way quietly down to where he stood.
 
 320 POWER LOT 
 
 " Come on out, Bate," I said. " I want a word with 
 you." 
 
 My voice seemed to rouse him from the shackles of 
 a nightmare. He followed me out stupidly. He had 
 on a new suit of clothes, with a fine linen shirt, and a 
 watch and chain, and new boots to match, and he was 
 holding a big cigar in his terror-palsied hand. 
 
 I believe I have never seen anything so pathetic 
 under heaven as the new clothes on that shivering, con- 
 victed wretch. Innocence and martyrdom are not so 
 pathetic to me; they have strong white wings that 
 earthly mischance only set free for the upper king- 
 doms and an incontrovertible estate but the idiocy of 
 evil, sucking still rapaciously from the dregs of a 
 poisoned glass, God must mend that, as there are some 
 bodies beyond the skill of earthly physicians to set 
 straight. God, He will mend all; that I believe. You 
 have your notion of pathos, I have mine; and to me 
 Bate Stingaree was pathetic, beyond tears, to what 
 wrings a man's very soul. 
 
 But I had to look out for his not following and perse- 
 cuting Rob any further. I had to put chain and muzzle 
 on him, so to speak, and I went straight to my job. 
 
 " Bate," I said, " you and Gar' Tee-bo sailed over 
 to Waldeck after us. I know just where you got your 
 boat, I know just the spot where you anchored out of 
 sight; and you sneaked in your dory off the ledges 
 and went ashore, and watched your chance. You felled 
 Rob Hilton in a flash, creeping up behind him like a 
 snake, in a dark alleyway. You took his money and 
 threw him over for dead into the quarry." 
 
 Bate gave me a demented grin ; then, as if my words
 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOL EXPOSITION 321 
 
 had roused him to some force for self-defense in the 
 living world again, his eyes glared at me like those of 
 a beast, his hands twitched as though he could not 
 withhold a blow. 
 
 " You," he cried, " mind your business, or I'll " 
 
 " Hand me over what you have left of Rob's money," 
 said I, still even and low, " unless you want to serve 
 out a sentence in prison. I've got to keep an eye on 
 you hereafter, and I shan't fail to do it. It is ' toe- 
 the-mark ' or prison for you, Bate. And be quick 
 about what I tell you to do. You don't want to get 
 a crowd out here." 
 
 " It's a lie, Jim," said he desperately ; " somebody 's 
 been tellin' you a lie. Daisy got drunk as a fool, and 
 fell over of his own accord. Tee-bo and me went over 
 on business, and we can prove it; and we happened 
 to see him stumblin' and reelin' along the quarryside, 
 drunk ; we said then he'd likely fall over. That's all 
 we got to do with it." 
 
 "Rob Hilton saw the hand that dealt the blow," I 
 informed him, rather impatiently. " And what if I, 
 being an old stager and knowing the ways of a few 
 o' the folks thank Heaven, there's only a few o' that 
 sort 'round here what if I arranged to have some 
 of those bills marked that went into Rob's pocket, and 
 that you've got now in your own ? " 
 
 " D n it," said the craven fellow, " I never had no 
 luck. Everything and everybody's down on me." 
 
 " Hand me over the money," said I. 
 
 " I didn't have but half of it," he whined. 
 
 " I know where to get the other half." 
 
 Bate, without further parley, handed to me the fifty
 
 322 POWER LOT 
 
 dollars he had left. " You're goin' to let this thing 
 drop, now, Jim? " he was trembling, and actually tried 
 to work up an ingratiating smile on his pallid face. 
 
 " That's just the trouble," I said. " Somehow 
 everything has to be let drop with you. As you say, 
 you ain't been kindly treated, but it ain't in the way you 
 think. Punishment has been warded off o' you when 
 it might 'a' saved your soul alive to let the chastise- 
 ment fall hard on your back. You've been shielded 
 when you ought to been made to face the light. I'm 
 a-doin' you and all humanity 'round ye another wrong 
 now, by lettin' ye go. But I can't stand letting such 
 a blow fall on that sister o' yours on Mary." 
 
 His face fixed for a sneer from very habit, but he 
 hastened to draw it out respectfully. 
 
 " She's a good girl, Mary is," he whined. " I reckon 
 as how some things might kill her. All right, we'll let 
 it drop. You needn't be afraid I'll trouble any of 
 ye any more." 
 
 My next business was with Tee-bo. I recovered a 
 full hundred there, and obsequious treatment. 
 
 " Bate he nevaire tell-a me what for he sail to 
 Waldeck. No. I des-spise heem, an' I keel-a. heem, eef 
 you weesh. Bate he mek his invite' to go sail with 
 heem. So I go. I know not'ings. He say * Man owe 
 me money, w'at he pe'd me I giv' you hunder' dollar, 
 Gar', 'cause I loaf Cuby, eef you git her to mek marry 
 with me.' I know not'ings, Capataine Jeem. I loaf 
 you. I do w'at you say, only don't you come to mek 
 troubles on me. I tell you, I know not'ings."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 SEA GULLS EMBRACE 
 
 I TOOK the story of the refunded money up to Rob 
 next morning. " You owe me only ' fifty ' now," I 
 said. 
 
 "I owe you " said the lad; well, I won't tell 
 
 what he said. Rut it isn't so hard giving up, and 
 piloting your chickens along to pick up the fattest of 
 the corn, when they turn a face and a spirit toward you 
 like Rob's. 
 
 I was willing to make my faith in Gar' Tee-bo's pro- 
 testations of innocence discretionary, but I was deter- 
 mined to find out whether " Grief " knew anything of 
 the dastardly plot against Rob. I meant to search 
 that maiden's soul for lurking crime. On my return 
 to the River settlement I came easily upon Cuby, fresh 
 and handsome, doing the week's washing in the shed of 
 the Tee-bo cabin. 
 
 "How d' do, Cuby?" 
 
 " Halloo, Jeem." 
 
 " You did your part mighty fine last night, Cuby 
 wonderful. You are an actress and no mistake." 
 
 " Wai'," said Cuby, deftly wringing out one of Tee- 
 bo's flannel shirts, a deep blush on her downcast face, 
 " I'm vary glad you lak' how I done it." 
 
 " By the way, Cuby," I continued bluntly, " did you 
 know that your father and Bate sailed over to Wai- 
 deck just after Rob and I did the other day? "
 
 324 POWER LOT 
 
 " So? Jeem," she said, lifting to me a pale face 
 that I knew on the spot and the instant to be an honest 
 face. " They mek to me as how they go feeshin'." 
 
 " Do you honest care anything about Rob Hil- 
 ton, Cuby? Tell me now." 
 
 " Me I want them not to hurt heem. I am good, 
 Jeem Tur-ban, though always you hate me and mek 
 a mock at me." She shook out the wrung garment 
 viciously, as though she would have liked to slap me 
 in the face with it. But her voice and eyes carried a 
 suspicion of dammed-up tears. 
 
 " I see you do care for him, after all," said I. 
 
 " Heem ! " She threw the wrung and shaken gar- 
 ment to a near-by line; it snapped my ear stingingly 
 in passing, but it landed on the line as smartly as if 
 a boy had thrown it. " Heem, the gre't stupeed lunk-a- 
 head. Heem ! Loaf heem ! " She laughed, and her 
 perfect teeth glittered in a way that actually suggested 
 to me that their bite might not be pleasant. 
 
 " Who do you love, then ? " I said. 
 
 " Who ? Oh, you, mebbee," she retorted, her eyes 
 burning annihilation of me, her passionate face white 
 with wrath. "You! That is it! It must be. How 
 could it be halp'? You air so han'some, so genteel, so 
 loafly an* you mek so to mind your own beezness! 
 Oh, vary sure it must-a be you ! " She laughed, and 
 her laugh was musical even when she was in a spasm of 
 scorn and rage. 
 
 " That is not polite," I answered, as if I had been 
 deeply hurt, "to remind me of my misfortunes. I 
 did not think you would be so unkind to a man who 
 was created plain and rough ; to throw his ugliness
 
 SEA GULLS EMBRACE 325 
 
 back in his face, and laugh at it. I did not think it of 
 you, Cuby." 
 
 She burst into tears. 
 
 " Oh, Jeem, it is not me w'at laugh at you. It is 
 you mek-a laugh on me." 
 
 She bent over her tub again, and her tears mingled 
 with the suds, falling over cheeks dewy as a baby's 
 and from long, dark lashes that hid sedulously the 
 storm of shame and sorrow in her eyes. Now was she 
 indeed " Grief " ; and still the actress was mounting in 
 her, her lip began to curl and the clothes in the tub 
 to dance a jig suggestive of rising passion. 
 
 "Well, who do you hate, Cuby?" I made haste 
 to say, by way of deflecting her emotion into some 
 safe and congenial outlet. 
 
 " Jeem, I cross-a my heart " she performed that 
 action solemnly, her bright, wet eyes meeting mine 
 steadily " I am getting hate of them two." 
 
 " Ah, your father and Bate? " 
 
 " Hush ! yes. I am getting hate to be 'round here. 
 They dreenk awful. They fetch home a lot of the 
 dreenk, that tarn' they mek' to go feeshin'. Jeem, tell-a 
 me, where was it they go? an' they fight on Rob? An' 
 heem one poor lunk-a-head." 
 
 " Rob Hilton is brave enough to distinguish himself 
 in any war men ever fought, Cuby. Rob is more of a 
 soldier than you think." 
 
 " Keep you heem, then. I want heem not. I want 
 nevaire to go up on that hill an* have that Ma'y 
 Sting'ree runnin' in and makin' a preach at me. Me 
 I rather to die." 
 
 " Then, maybe you love Bate? "
 
 1'WVKK LOT 
 
 " Mebbec you are a fool," she retorted, the stout 
 pillow case she had been wringing clearing my head by 
 the fraction of an inch on its impetuous way to the 
 line. " Bet' Sting' ree ! be tarn to heem ! w'at have 
 the audass' to knock me 'gin the side o' my house, till 
 I draw the gun on heem, an' he run. Would I shoot, 
 look you ! By tam, I would shoot heem ! " 
 
 The tears were decidedly exhaling in the bright flame 
 of Cuby's eyes. 
 
 " Well, now, look here," I said, unable to keep back 
 a smile, her oaths were so incongruous with her baby- 
 sweet lips ; " look here, Cuby, you and me are old 
 friends and you know who's to be trusted. Old Jim 
 Turbine will keep your secret. You are afraid to stay 
 here " 
 
 " I did not say I was af re'd." 
 
 " True, but you hate the atmosphere round your 
 home here. You hate them, and you'd be glad to get 
 away and get quit of it all. And so many of the 
 boys round here have been trying to pay court to you. 
 Sure, you love someone. Who is it, Cuby ? " 
 
 " Whan I tell heem," she replied, with bitter empha- 
 sis, " his old greezle-top '11 be layin' more years than 
 as one in the tomb o' the daid folks," and the mate 
 to the pillow case took me a clean swat across the 
 eyes, and there stayed, wet and heavy. 
 
 I laughed as I disentangled myself. Cuby laughed, 
 giving me a sidelong glance from her viciously re- 
 newed exercises over the washtub. 
 
 " I thought you could throw," I reproached her ; 
 " but you are like all girls, silly and weak." I sighed 
 and took the doughty pillow-case over to the line, where
 
 SEA GULLS EMBRACE 327 
 
 I hung it up neatly with clothespins ; in the same manner 
 I suspended all the articles that had been hurled thither- 
 ward with such force by Cuby, not omitting the kitchen 
 towel, which took me ferociously in the neck while I 
 was in the very midst of these travails. 
 
 " Do you know what ' spunk ' means ? " I said, com- 
 ing back to Cuby. 
 
 " It means," she answered promptly, " that I am 
 brev'." 
 
 " It does so. All of that. You can go right up to 
 the head." 
 
 " Ah no, Jeem, I go furder 'n as that. My mother, 
 she went an' drown herself long tarn' ago biffore I 
 rimmember, but they tell-a me. She was brev'. Whan 
 she lak' it not to leeve any longer, she go sweern out 
 vary far where there is no trouble to her any more. 
 Ah, she was brev', an* me I care not. I am brev' 
 also ; an' I loaf-a the water. It mak' me happy to 
 sweem out vary, vary far, an' nevaire come back where 
 it is all trouble to me, an' some that I did once lak' 
 come an' mek' a laugh at me." 
 
 " You love the water? So do I. You ought to 
 marry one of the sailor lads, Cuby." 
 
 " I shall nevaire marry," replied Cuby. " I use to 
 theenk eef I did to marry it mus' be a man w'at has 
 a boat an' goes a-feeshin'. I could not loaf any other 
 me. But I shall nevaire marry." 
 
 " There's Bingham Teazler, for one, says he asked 
 ye twice over last time his boat was in," said I rather 
 harshly ; for I resented the look of composed martyr- 
 dom that had suddenly spread itself over Cuby's ca- 
 pricious and beautiful features.
 
 328 POWER LOT 
 
 " Is it your beezness, Jeem," inquired Cuby sweetly, 
 " to go aroun' tellin' folks who they shall to marry ? 
 I thought you had a boat and went a-feeshin'. I did 
 not know you had change' your beezness. Me I 
 should theenk you would be a-shem' of yourself to go 
 aroun' on such beezness, lak' a ol' hen, fooss, fooss, 
 fooss 
 
 " My business is sailing and fishing still. Only once 
 in a while there's a little devil of a wildcat ashore that 
 is more than old hens can manage ; she needs a big man 
 to train her. She's a vixen and a torment, and a whole 
 handful. I've got more folks to look after and more 
 things on my hands now than I know what to do with. 
 But here's another a ' married ' woman, too that 
 ought to be behaving herself respectably." 
 
 Cuby laughed. 
 
 "Married! I would tell anybody go mind their 
 beezness eef I was married to tham only so leetle as I 
 am married to Rob Heelton. Get away, you, from my 
 father's house. You are stupeed. You have no bre'ns. 
 It is a peety, for somtam' I theenk I lak' you it is 
 a peety God have giv' you no bre'ns." 
 
 " Well, you have got to promise me one thing before 
 I leave here; you won't go drowning yourself or swim- 
 ming out too far, you little she-devil? I know you 
 will keep it if you promise. Now look me straight in 
 the eyes will you promise? " 
 
 " Get away from my father's house, and go you mind 
 your beezness. For I will not promise you not'ing 
 no, I will not." 
 
 " Promise," I said, striding toward her, and I took
 
 PROMISE," I SAID, STRIDING TOWARD HER.
 
 SEA GULLS EMBRACE 329 
 
 both her hands, holding her at arm's length. The 
 little hands were helpless in mine. 
 
 Her fearless, wild eyes smiled at me. 
 
 I never knew just how it was done, but in that 
 instant I held her at arm's length no longer. I held 
 her in mj arms, and I kissed her with a fierce will on 
 her sweet, rebellious lips. 
 
 " Promise me, Cuby." 
 
 " Jeem, I promise-a you," she said.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 SCARECROW AS COMFORTER 
 
 WHEN a man starts out to take more interest in other 
 folks than he does in himself, he's got business before 
 him, and plenty of it; orders to fill by day and by 
 night, and no dull times in his profession. 
 
 It's a profession for a particular kind of fool, that's 
 built that way, and it's never overcrowded; the air 
 is fresh all 'round ye, and nothing to obstruct the 
 view when ye take to running the universe for the 
 sake of other folks. 
 
 Mary, on her part, was running the universe to try 
 to save Bate, and she wondered and worried over his 
 continued absence from home. 
 
 " But he has done better of late, Jim. Much of the 
 time he has worked faithfully on the place. His crop 
 of corn is the best anywhere about so they say. Per- 
 haps he has gone so long without this will be his 
 last ' spree.' If I could only get him home again. 
 Don't you think that he has done better for a good 
 while past?" 
 
 "Well, yes," I answered desperately, "I think he 
 has done more." 
 
 " You won't give him up, Jim ? I could not work 
 still to redeem him without your help." 
 
 Now, I had kissed Cuby as a gull in gay and chatty 
 flight leans to his companion on the wing. But Mary 
 330
 
 SCARECROW AS COMFORTER 331 
 
 that adoration of her was a life-long habit I should 
 never kiss her; that I knew, though she lifted to me 
 the soul in her dark eyes with a trust that rived me, 
 for the love I had for her, and had nurtured for her, 
 against hope, this many a year. Verily, there are 
 some seas a woman like that does not sail, or she would 
 not have lifted to me a look like that, who must only 
 suffer through my love for her. 
 
 " I'll never give up aught that I can do to help you. 
 Did you need to ask me that? " I smiled at her. 
 
 Rob, with his able arm, was rigging up a scarecrow 
 over in the corn field where I went to work to keep 
 the crows away from Bate's corn. He arranged a de- 
 cayed hat at a defiant angle on the head of the dreadful 
 creation he was producing. " This is just fit business 
 for me," he declared, " some one-handed fool job like 
 this." 
 
 " It's not so bad, considering," said I, " trying to 
 keep the crows off the corn of a man that tried to 
 murder you." 
 
 " I've got the habit of working at something all 
 the time, Jim," he went on seriously, " and it is all 
 I'm fit for. I'd better be working than making an ass 
 of myself on high lines, like trying to read Shakespeare 
 and Browning aloud to a woman college president. 
 Did you hear me trying to read aloud to Mary? I 
 wish I had at least a little decent fear, but I'm such 
 a d d fool I don't stick at anything." 
 
 '* Rob," I suggested, to turn his thoughts, " you 
 ought to put the hat that Caroline Treet gave you 
 on that scarecrow. It would not be matched then for 
 a success, of its kind, in any kingdom. The crows
 
 832 POWER LOT 
 
 wouldn't so much as flutter anywheres near all 
 summer." 
 
 Rob's shoulders shrugged with a laugh. I saw, 
 though his back was turned. Then he faced me, and 
 there was the queer spirit that I liked so, and that al- 
 ways floored me, in his blue eyes. You couldn't con- 
 trovert it or touch it anywhere, it was that steady and 
 deep, though it was only over a little thing that it 
 showed, now. 
 
 " Jim, I wouldn't put that hat on a scarecrow for 
 any money, or anything on God's earth. I wouldn't 
 make game of that hat though it was worn to shreds 
 and I know some 'round here do put Caroline's hats on 
 their scarecrows. I wear it often when she's looking 
 and I shall as long as I'm at Power Lot, God Help Us. 
 It's a nice hat, and I like it. You keep quiet about that 
 hat, old man, or you and I'll have a quarrel." 
 
 " You've got a good many girls on your string," 
 I adjured him solemnly. 
 
 The smile grew broad on his face. Then he sobered. 
 
 " Ah, Jim," he said, arranging some straw under 
 the tattered vest of his dreadful piece of sculpture in 
 order to give it the similitude of a mortal stomach 
 and some proper pride of bearing ; " ah, Jim, you 
 ought to have been in my shoes at birth, I mean 
 you would have plodded into the advantages that I 
 tossed in air ; you would have used them like an ex- 
 pert, and made a great man of yourself, and married 
 Mary Stingaree." 
 
 He became intensely interested in the processes of 
 the art he was pursuing, and stood off to view his 
 uncanny work.
 
 SCARECROW AS COMFORTER 333 
 
 " Mary Stingaree is for neither you nor me," I 
 said. " It would be a shame for her to marry either 
 of us, after all. We both know she is spoken for from 
 a high source, and where she will probably make up 
 her mind to go in the end. We'd better put her out 
 of our minds as far as that is concerned." 
 
 " Doctor Margate is too old for her," Rob replied, 
 giving an English cant to the trousers set up on 
 two old broom handles which constituted the legs of 
 his masterpiece. " Too old for her. Perhaps you 
 think she's sort of prim and schoolteachery, Jim, but 
 she isn't. She's great! She's jolly and full of ' go ' 
 didn't you know that? Why, Mary Stingaree is 
 a society woman more than anything else, and a bril- 
 liant one, too. She has had a hard, uncongenial life 
 of it, but the music and the dash are all there. She 
 ought to marry a young man, and travel, and enter- 
 tain at her own house, and all that sort of thing. How 
 she would shine ! " 
 
 " Doctor Margate is not too old to travel, and by all 
 accounts his house is big enough for even her to shine 
 in. You and I are poor devils with our own work cut 
 out before us, and we've got to stand up to it without 
 frittering our thoughts away in hopeless moonshine. 
 We can be men she can respect, anyway." 
 
 " Yes," said Rob, his face settling again to severer 
 lines, with a sharp pallor round the lips. " I can't 
 hang 'round there so much with her, though. I I 
 like it too much, Jim. I I wouldn't have dreamed, 
 when I first came to Power Lot, God Help Us, that a 
 man could ever love a woman as I love her now. When 
 she does up my arm I don't dare breathe, for fear she'd
 
 334 POWER LOT 
 
 know how I wish that I could die when she touches 
 me, and go off that way, happy, in the bliss of it; 
 quit it all, that way all this mess that I've got into, 
 that I don't rightly know how to manage. I'm not 
 afraid, old man. I could stand up to anything, if 
 I saw my way clear. Once or twice I've thought 
 she Mary well, I could not believe it, of course 
 but I've thought just for a moment, you know I've 
 thought " 
 
 " Don't think it any more that's only just her 
 way. You get to thinking that, too hard, and you fall 
 on your head every time, and find you're badly cracked. 
 Stand on your own feet, Rob. Good Lord! stand up 
 independent, and steer." 
 
 " You couldn't talk just like that, if you cared for 
 anybody as I care for her." 
 
 " No? but it's a safe rule to go by. It's the only 
 way she'd ever care for you" 
 
 I pitied the lad's working face. But he climbed out 
 of this quarry before my very eyes. You can tell 
 by the look on a man's face when he has given up his 
 own way and settled down again to sail as true to chart 
 and compass as he knows. 
 
 I left him smoking his pipe beside his scarecrow, 
 friendly, and human-close, as though the communion 
 lay deep between him and that uncanny offspring of 
 his genius. I stopped at the house on my way home 
 for a word with Mary. There are lots of ends to pick 
 up when you are running the universe for the sake 
 of a lot of eccentric individuals such as I had to 
 manage. 
 
 " This is just between you and me as old friends,
 
 SCARECROW AS COMFORTER 335 
 
 Mary," said I. " You might go kind of careful with 
 Rob Hilton, if you don't really care anything about 
 him. He he's very fond of you, Mary." 
 
 " Is he? " said she, meeting me very frankly, and 
 with great quietness of demeanor. " Well I am fond 
 of him." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I know. But that is not the way Rob 
 feels it. He is deeper than you think. He he it 
 is tough for Rob, Mary. It's hard it's vital hard 
 for him." 
 
 "And how do you suppose I care for him? Am 
 I incapable of affection for any sort except drunkards 
 and the superannuated and all the curious of creation? 
 Is it not possible that I could love someone young and 
 straight and tall and pleasant to look upon, and joy- 
 ful to hear? Someone who has erred, possibly like 
 the rest of us; for we are none of us quite perfect, 
 Jim." 
 
 She flashed that at me as though I'd been sizing up 
 poor human flesh and condemning it altogether because 
 it didn't touch ideal attainment; that is the kind of 
 justice you get meted out to you when you're running 
 the universe your little part of it for the sake of a 
 lot of hotheads. 
 
 " Is it not possible that I might care for someone 
 who is admirably, simply normal in his nature and in 
 his craving for happiness ? " 
 
 She was up and speaking at last. Not so much her 
 words as her manner glued my tongue in my mouth. 
 
 " It was a shame," she went one, in a flame of indig- 
 nation, " a shame for Rob Hilton to be entrapped into 
 that dreadful, false marriage down there. He was
 
 336 POWER LOT 
 
 not married," she believed. " He was not of their sort, 
 and he could never become so through any amount of 
 degradation. It was wicked. If there had been anyone 
 to take any interest in him " 
 
 " A woman," she continued, " could not go rummag- 
 ing about in the purlieus of that dreadful River down 
 there to see what was going on, or to protect the de- 
 fenseless ; but it really seemed as though a man could 
 have protected his friend." 
 
 My tongue still stuck tight on unmoving hinges. 
 
 " I said Rob Hilton was charmingly normal," said 
 she. " He is not, he is superior. Why, he has a heart 
 like a lion. He would do and dare anything for anyone 
 he loved." 
 
 " Mary," said my creaking tongue at last, and I 
 climbed a tough pitch in the waves then, and swal- 
 lowed injustice, and threw back magnanimity and pa- 
 tience at her for her wild, cruel handling of me, God 
 knows that ; " Mary, if I have not been all the friend 
 I ought to be to you and Rob Hilton, why, I shall have 
 a chance to make up for it later on." 
 
 She hesitated, and gave me a bit of attention, just 
 a bit. I reckon my face was screwed up in some dis- 
 torted shape. 
 
 "Jim," said she softer, "I did not mean that. 
 There was never anyone like you. I did not mean to 
 hurt you." 
 
 " Never mind," said I, " I'm one of the ' curious ' 
 one of the freaks. But now, I want to know one 
 thing, if an old life-long friendship may put the ques- 
 tion to ye,. Mary. If Rob Hilton were proven to be 
 free, would you marry him ? "
 
 SCARECROW AS COMFORTER 337 
 
 " You seem to cast some reflection upon him," she 
 answered ; " and the question you ask me would be 
 impertinent did it come from anyone but you. But 
 you seem to cast some reflection upon Rob," she said, 
 very gently now. " Did you never think, Jim, it is 
 greater to win a battle over self and temptation than 
 to sit at ease with those who have not been tempted? " 
 
 " I have thought a good deal, Mary," I said. 
 
 " I know you have. But you seem not to have 
 thought of that. No woman of character could de- 
 spise Rob Hilton and his splendid fight." 
 
 " I believe that you would marry him," I murmured 
 aloud, a sort of helpless incredulity in my tone. 
 
 " I do not know," she said. " This much is certain " 
 she punished me with the new light that shone wide 
 and soft in her glorious eyes " I do not believe that I 
 could bear to marry anyone else." 
 
 So the die was cast, the song was sung, the word 
 was said. I retreated, I do not know how, except that 
 I stalked away automatically, as a man whose life- 
 springs are dead. 
 
 Rob had finished his pipe, and left the scarecrow 
 standing solitary. The gatepost was conveniently near. 
 I leaned against it for support, and as I did so I could 
 feel the rags of the crow-frightener's right arm flut- 
 tering caressingly against my cheek. 
 
 Some things rose very clearly before me then: 
 how Mary had chosen Power Lot, God Help Us, up 
 here with the wind for a watchdog, had accepted it de- 
 liberately, rather than a softer life, for Duty's sake. 
 How barren a life it had been for her, into which Rob 
 had come with his brightness and theatrical position
 
 338 POWER LOT 
 
 of dependence, with his qualities of eternal youth and 
 his spectacular fight against temptation. 
 
 " But she was all the world to me," I blurted out, 
 clenching my hard fists in a kind of agony, being alone 
 with the scarecrow. " Deep down in my heart I was 
 always thinking that perhaps somehow, sometime 
 
 " But she loves him she loves Rob Hilton." I 
 brought myself up standing. " The story's told, the 
 dream's over. There's nothing left but to ' Steer right 
 on.' That is all the story now." 
 
 " There's a storm brewing in the east," shivered 
 Scarecrow. 
 
 " The more storm the better," said I. " I like storms. 
 When a poor devil's stripped of everything else in the 
 world he's got the storms left, anyway. Give me a 
 storm and a boat and I'm all right." 
 
 "Other folks? Other folks?" screeched Scarecrow, 
 the wind wrenching the hat clean off his head. 
 
 " Oh, all right," said I, capping him again. " Yes, 
 other folks. Well, I'll do my best. If that's the way 
 to ride the gale out, I'll go that way." My own 
 words came back to me, spoken though they had been 
 with a gush of blood at the heart * Mary, if I have 
 not been all the friend I ought to be to you and Rob 
 Hilton, why, I shall have a chance to make up for it 
 later on.' Aye, and so I will. I'll clear a way for 
 them somehow. That's settled." 
 
 I saw old man Trawles coming home along the lane, 
 driving his cow, and I, not being in the mood to be 
 seen or to chat with him, jumped over into the tall 
 corn so that he might not discover me. 
 
 Jacob Trawles wore his tall hat, as usual, and swung 

 
 SCARECROW AS COMFORTER 339 
 
 his cane. The cow stopped and gazed fearfully at 
 Scarecrow standing crazily bold in his rags by the 
 gatepost. 
 
 " Sir," said Jacob Trawles in his best urban style 
 to Scarecrow, whose features and tatters he discerned 
 but vaguely from where he stood ; " sir, will you kindly 
 step aside till I have passed with my cow? " 
 
 Poor Scarecrow whistled through all his shackling 
 constitution, and twirled his own rakish hat with his 
 hidden brows in sniggering contempt of Jacob's sup- 
 plication. 
 
 " Sir," said Jacob to Scarecrow with severe dignity, 
 " step aside at once, sir; you are frightening my 
 cow." 
 
 I held my breath in a spasm of interest and atten- 
 tion, lest I should shriek aloud even as the gay wind 
 shrieked. Scarecrow rattled, waved, and whistled in 
 jaunty defiance, and the cow turned and plunged in 
 frenzied retreat. 
 
 " Sir," Jacob sternly accused the insensate tatter- 
 demalion by the gatepost, " sir, I requested you, with 
 courtesy, to step aside. No gentleman, no decent per- 
 son, sir, would conduct himself as you are doing." 
 
 Poor Scarecrow shook his hoe-handle right arm in 
 a tiltish way, as full of glad menace and challenge to 
 approach. 
 
 Now I saw that Jacob Trawles did not essentially 
 lack for courage. 
 
 " D n your imperdence ! " cried the insulted old 
 man, advancing upon Scarecrow with upraised cane 
 and whirling it over that unshrinking creature's hat, 
 scathless, for he had no mind to commit murder. It
 
 840 POWER LOT 
 
 was when he had cooled down enough to prod his un- 
 speakable enemy persistently in the stomach with his 
 cane that Scarecrow yielded up, unregretfully, his brief 
 reign on earth, and fell in astonishing distintegration 
 at his assailant's feet. 
 
 " What in the devil's almanack ! " cried the startled 
 old man an excessive oath which he used only on 
 state occasions like the present. " What in the ' 
 
 In the general collapse of material before him, the 
 familiar aspect of old broom and rake handles, laths, 
 straw, old garments, and a battered hat sped from 
 a headless trunk, reassured him and advised him of the 
 nature of the opponent whom he had so valiantly at- 
 tacked. 
 
 " Now who played that trick, I wonder," he com- 
 mented aloud, with a bitter inflection of contempt for 
 the wit of the perpetrator; "some lorn shif'less fool 
 't didn't know no more *n to rig up a scarecrow right 
 here where everybody's cows is passin'. If I ketch 
 him, I'll " 
 
 He wiped his brow, looked long and cautiously about 
 him to make sure that no one had witnessed the re- 
 markable scene, and then started back down the lane 
 in pursuit of his cow. 
 
 I collected the shattered framework and constitu- 
 tion of what had been so late my companion in misery, 
 picked up his forlorn garments, transported him a 
 piece, and set him up to what I trusted might be a long 
 and useful existence in the center of the field. By 
 chance, as I was making my exit from the tall and 
 tangled corn, I came face to face with Jacob Trawlcs 
 returning with his cow.
 
 SCARECROW AS COMFORTER 341 
 
 I was conscious on the instant that I colored high 
 and leered guiltily in his face. 
 
 " Jim Turbine," said he, relapsing wholly into the 
 vernacular, " ain't you gittin' to be purty old to be 
 playin' that kind o' harf-witted, dodderin', aimless, 
 shif 'less tricks on folks? " 
 
 I felt that I was leering only the more broadly into 
 his questioning face. 
 
 " Wai', wal'," said he, fixing me with his dun-brown 
 e y e " yu keep your mouth shet, Jim, and I'll keep 
 mine. Ha, ha ! " he laughed with an artificiality in 
 which the effort involved was something painful to 
 hear, " boys will be boys, Jim. Yes, boys will be boys. 
 I ahem I shall invite you to my wedding, Jim." 
 
 I accepted his cajolery without resentment. " Aim- 
 less, shif 'less," he had called me; and, faith, but I had 
 been hoeing out the corn of my enemy, for charity's 
 sake, till every bone in my body ached. 
 
 Sure, a man gathers up sweet plums of appreciation 
 and reward when he's running his little universe for 
 the sake of other folks. 
 
 " Did ye hear, Jim? You keep your mouth shet, and 
 I'll keep mine. I'm a-goin' to invite ye to my weddin', 
 Jim," Old man Trawles beamed on me. 
 
 " Thank ye, I'll come, sure, if I'm ashore, Jacob. 
 I'm a master hand at going to other folks' weddings." 
 
 Maybe too much storm and wind and general catas- 
 trophe was mingled with my appointed voyage through 
 life for grief to stay me long at any one point. There 
 was always the next wave to face.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 " AS FAR AS HEAVEN " 
 
 A WEEK had passed and Bate had not yet returned. 
 Mary's forebodings, if the truth were known, were 
 not only for him, but also for fear of tidings of some 
 criminal misdoing of his, or lest he should come home 
 drunk and violent by night with she knew not what 
 evil companions. Mrs. Byjo stepped out strong as 
 ever in this emergency. 
 
 " I'm coming over to bunk on the lounge alongside 
 your bed, Mary. When they was mixin' the mortar to 
 make me up, they hadn't a drop o' * Fear ' to put in, 
 by Jo ! Fear's a mighty good thing, but they was out 
 of it; so, while the devil was gone to town to git 
 some, they finished the job o' making me without any. 
 It ain't a safe way to be constituted, I suppose, but it's 
 mighty comfortable." She swaggered cheerily about 
 the kitchen and set her constant friend, the oxwhip, 
 staunchly in a corner. 
 
 Mary laughed in sympathy with the broad kindli- 
 ness and courage on Mrs. By jo's face. It was plain 
 to see the relief on Mary's own face, that had been 
 growing darkly haggard of late more irresistibly 
 beautiful than ever to poor Rob. 
 
 " Rob ain't got but one arm at present," continued 
 Mrs. Byjo; "so me and my old oxwhip will stand 
 guard, too." 
 
 She took a big pair of spectacles out of her pocket 
 342
 
 "AS FAR AS HEAVEN" 343 
 
 and sat down by the kitchen lamp with one of Mary's 
 books. " You two young people can have the sitting- 
 room table for your reading," she said, " and clear 
 out o* here. When I read I don't want anybody in- 
 terruptin' me with talk, or jogglin' my elbows; I want 
 the whole world to myself when I read, same as when 
 I'm enjoyin' my first mess o' greens in the spring, only 
 more so." 
 
 Mary's face was brighter than it had been for days. 
 She felt freer to converse with Rob of what was on her 
 heart, and she spoke to him in the adjoining room. 
 
 " I want you to be frank with me, if there is anything 
 concealed about that day at Waldeck, Rob. Did- 
 did Bate sail over there too? I have been thinking 
 lately he was not at home that day." 
 
 " Miss Stingaree," said Rob, smiling in his ingenuous 
 way, " it isn't hardly fair, is it, to ask me about Bate? 
 He sails and he tramps so many ways how should I 
 know?" 
 
 " I've had a horrid suspicion haunting me, until Vir- 
 ginia came in and dispelled all suspicions with her 
 brave good-cheer, that that, possibly, it was Bate who 
 was the means of your falling into the quarry? " She 
 was looking at Rob more keenly than he realized. 
 
 He laughed, and laughed again, with the humor of 
 the idea. 
 
 " Miss Stingaree, I have been able to defend myself 
 against Bate for some time. You know that. You 
 are not very flattering. It was the turn of my foot on 
 a miserable stone sent me slipping down there. The 
 fall was unexpectedly abrupt, and there were jagged 
 rocks below."
 
 344 POWER LOT 
 
 " Rob, I believe that is the first lie you ever told me. 
 You and Jim might have agreed on the same story, at 
 least. He said the bank caved in. What did happen? 
 I want to know the truth." 
 
 Rob's smiling features were expressive of the utmost 
 bewilderment and confusion. " If Jim said the bank 
 caved, why then, that was it. I was so stunned, you 
 know." 
 
 " You weren't stunned before the bank caved in, were 
 you? " 
 
 " No, oh no, not at all ; but the things that hap- 
 pened just before did not make so much impression 
 on me, or rather, the impression was sort of lost, you 
 understand I think it is usual in such cases. But I 
 can tell you this, truly if Bate Stingaree pushed me 
 over into the quarry, then I wasn't alive and knowing 
 when he did it, that's all!" 
 
 Rob's forehead bloomed with frankness. Mary 
 caught at his words eagerly with a sudden revulsion 
 of feeling, believing what she was agonizingly anxious 
 to believe that her brother had not taken that das- 
 tardly attempt at crime upon his soul. 
 
 " If Bate had only would only put himself in 
 training as you have done," she said. " Your ab- 
 stinence, I mean, and and perfectly marvelous faith- 
 fulness of application. Rob, do you know of any way 
 one could get hold of Bate really to influence him? 
 You are ' intuitive.' " She smiled. " Now I have been 
 called * scholarly,' here and there. I have a fair idea 
 of perspective and logical sequences and values, to * see 
 all 'round a thing,' as they say here; but you 
 occasion you see as far as heaven, Rob. You
 
 "AS FAR AS HEAVEN" 345 
 
 my mother go. I shall never forget that. / should 
 never have seen her go." 
 
 The woman's words were soft as music, the trembling 
 of her lips inexpressibly tender. Rob realized of a 
 sudden that Mary did not wholly disapprove of him, 
 that she had even entertained a thought of him in the 
 sanctuary of her tenderest emotions ; he drank some 
 of the astounding flattery of her words. His weary, 
 hopeless heart proceeded to make eternity of this mo- 
 ment. Past and future were void; his senses swam 
 in poignant ecstasy. He felt that he must say some- 
 thing to keep her still near him, not to appear as 
 vacuous before her, however deliciously light his head 
 was perched upon his neck, so airy and fine that it 
 was no more trouble to him than the head of a sparrow. 
 
 " That was a great dream," he said, " that about 
 your mother ; and I'm not usually much of a dreamer, 
 either." 
 
 "Rob, how can I get hold of Bate? Can you tell 
 me? " 
 
 She followed one hope persistently, but there was 
 the trace of girlish emotion still trembling on her lips ; 
 and there were her wonderful witch-dark eyes asking 
 him for advice and aid. 
 
 " Perhaps," he said with absolute honesty, the mo- 
 ment was so transcendent, " if he cared enough for 
 someone to want to win their respect though he died 
 doing it I believe I'll tell you something, Miss Stinga- 
 ree; since it is all a hopeless business for me, you 
 won't mind now, I believe, if I tell you. You must 
 not feel that you are unkind. It was a good thing, 
 so don't you worry; but it hit hard as death."
 
 346 POWER LOT 
 
 " Do go on, Rob," said Mary, much wondering. 
 
 " Since it is all a hopeless business for me, and I 
 have not even any right, I suppose, to tell you how 
 much I began to think about you at one time; in fact, 
 I thought about you every blessed minute of the time. 
 A fellow could not help it, you know. Well, I wandered 
 up to the old church one evening what they call 
 * Spook House ' and lo and behold ! you and Jim were 
 standing over in front of it talking together, and it 
 came back through the old broken windows to me 
 where I stood, and before I could turn away you were 
 speaking of me and you said : * He is not a man at 
 all ! ' That is what you said," concluded Rob with half- 
 averted face, on which strength and dignity mingled 
 with a world of ardent adoration, not to speak of for- 
 giveness, if forgiveness were required for those soul- 
 biting words. 
 
 Mary's cheek was streaked with so dark a red as 
 though a sudden arrow had been sent to her heart. 
 
 " After that," Rob went on, " I did not care about 
 drink, or pleasure, or anything ; at first, I did not even 
 care about you. It stopped every hope of the living 
 in me. It killed me. It drove me " Rob's face settled 
 to its sterner lines, and his voice grew tense and deep 
 " it drove me, when I was able to pick myself up on to 
 my feet once more, to a resolution that was bigger 
 than all things else in my eyes. I vowed that I would 
 stand alone, and do the right thing, whether anybody 
 knew it or not, or loved me or not; that I'd be a man 
 to suit my own ideals on the subject, which are as 
 high as yours, perhaps ; though I haven't got far on 
 the road yet, but, God knows, I've been trying some."
 
 "AS FAR AS HEAVEN" 347 
 
 Mary's voice was like the soft, clear tone of a flute ; 
 it seemed angelic, but heartless, to Rob. 
 
 " You think, if Bate could care really to win some- 
 one's respect, or hear some very harsh words about 
 himself it might redeem him? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Rob drearily. Then he lifted 
 his head again. " I'll do all in mortal power to help 
 you with your brother, Miss Stingaree." 
 
 " How would it be, generally speaking, in a case like 
 that you have described to me," Mary's clear, flute-like, 
 impersonal tone went on, " after hearing so unkind, 
 thoughtless, and exaggerated a criticism of himself; 
 though entirely forgiving, perhaps, out of a great 
 nature, a person would never care as before for one 
 who had uttered such unfortunate words ? " 
 
 " They were not unfortunate, after all, perhaps," ex- 
 claimed Rob generously, quite off his guard ; " though 
 they knocked a fellow down, when he got on his feet he 
 had his jaws set for good, you know; he had his mind 
 made up, and he wouldn't have stuck at going through 
 hell itself to carry out his resolution. Don't you 
 see?" 
 
 " Yes, I see," Mary smiled with composure, " but 
 there could never be the same regard for her who had 
 spoken them." 
 
 That honeyed, reed-like voice would have deceived a 
 wiser head than Rob's that swam so high and airily, as 
 light as a humming bird's in Mary's dear presence, and 
 under the spell of her eyes, though he was sadly re- 
 solved that she was altogether heartless. 
 
 " Perhaps not in some instances," he replied, utterly 
 tactless, supremely fatuous. " But for me, in less
 
 348 POWER LOT 
 
 than a day, I only grew to to love you more, though 
 it was hopeless, and more and more, God help me, every 
 day of my life." 
 
 " So many days," sighed the sweet and heartless 
 voice ; " but I shall always have to remember there was 
 one day, Rob, when you did not love me." 
 
 He thought she was going to laugh. He looked up 
 curiously, and saw only a very grave and beautiful 
 profile contemplating spaces and infinitudes that had no 
 connection with his poor story. 
 
 " Well, I don't know," he murmured despairingly ; 
 " probably I did that day too, although I did not 
 know it." 
 
 She did laugh, softly, but to his astonishment there 
 were tears in the eyes that turned to meet his. 
 
 " Then, since you include that day too, and there is 
 no omission, I think I have something to tell you, too, 
 Rob." The bright wave of crimson that swept over her 
 face changed to a divine pallor, as she made thus her 
 great amends to him. " Though it is all hopeless, as you 
 say, yet I should always want to remember that I told 
 you this. If it is any comfort to you, to hear it from 
 me, why, then, I want you to know, Rob, that you are 
 more of a man in my eyes than any other I have ever 
 met on earth; and that I love you, Robert lad, I love 
 you with all my heart. Now, go. We must bear our 
 lives, and God help us to bear them." 
 
 " Mary ! Mary ! " gasped Rob, his beatific face 
 confirming her recent statement that he could " see as 
 far as heaven," " do you mean that you care for me 
 a man you could have married? " 
 
 " A man whom I did not consider worthy of that
 
 "AS FAR AS HEAVEN" 349 
 
 honor " the flute-voice renewed its smooth and even 
 music " would not be the one I have just described 
 to your humble sense as the strongest, noblest, and 
 bravest that it has ever been my lot to meet. Now, mad 
 though you are for flattery, Robert, I have said those 
 words for the last time. We must meet the future 
 bravely. In a sense, this must be our farewell: it is 
 ' hail and farewell,' for us, Robert lad." 
 
 " No never, never ! " said Rob breathlessly, as 
 though he actually, plunged through the pearly gates 
 of bliss ; " there'll be a way ! There must be a way ! 
 I'll make a way ! I was not worthy but I've won you ! 
 Say I've won you, since you care for me. Oh, God! 
 I thought the way was hard, and all the time I was 
 climbing up a hill that led to glory and the joy of life." 
 He rose and strode once back and forth across the 
 room, his humming-bird lightness of head carrying 
 him altogether into the realms of bliss. 
 
 " I'll make a way, my beautiful, my dearest " 
 
 " Virginia is stirring," said the flute-voice, low. 
 " You are behaving insanely. She will come in here 
 presently." 
 
 " She will only think you have refused me," bending 
 the ecstasy of his smile on Mary. " I am going out to 
 tell her. Come with me, or I shall think I am dreaming. 
 Come with me, dearest. You owe me this much. Re- 
 member the unkind ' exaggerated ' speech you made 
 about me." 
 
 " I remember," said Mary sadly ; " but we must re- 
 member other things as well. We are not free, neither 
 you nor I." 
 
 " What binds you? " said Rob, in a flash, gritting
 
 350 POWER LOT 
 
 his teeth in her very face, like a lion about to start out 
 on the devouring path. Mary smiled. 
 
 "Not a lover," she made haste to say, "but I 
 shall not leave Bate; no one else would make a home 
 for him, or have two days' patience with him. No one. 
 Even if you were free," she reminded him, very gently, 
 for his joy was sweet to her. 
 
 Hob's " intuitive " eyes, scorning all barriers, took 
 infinite largess of the future. He shrugged his broad 
 shoulders as though the world of sot-did entanglement, 
 j:rivation, and doubt fell from them lightly. 
 
 " Besides," she said, " remember it was your faith- 
 fulness to what you believed to be your duty that won 
 i::c to you, made me trust you. It would be a poor re- 
 ward if your love for me made you give up the fight, 
 Hob."
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE tremendous gorge of the River seemed to miss 
 half the tides. It filled, of course, regularly; but to 
 me, in memory, it seems ever to lie there, bare, eating its 
 heart out in smiting sun and shrieking wind, ragged 
 with bowlders, its few harbored vessels lying in the ways 
 exposed like ghosts without an element. 
 
 Well, the tide had gone out of my soul, too, and left 
 it stony and dry, only the ghosts of dead hopes 
 stranded bleak along its channel. 
 
 Captain Belcher, shouting cheerfully along the high- 
 way with his oxen, seemed a denizen of another world. 
 But I had business with him. 
 
 " Stu," said I, " you got to speak up. I'm boss. 
 It's my turn. I'm running the thing now. Here's a 
 paper ready made. Read it, and put your fist to it, or 
 we'll see which is the best man, you or me. We'll settle 
 it within this very identical ten minutes right here on 
 the ground. Here's pen and ink. I brought 'em in my 
 pocket a purpose." 
 
 WITNESSETH, Stuyvesant Belcher and James 
 Turbine: I, Stuyvesant Belcher do hereby say 
 and acknowledge, that, the justice of the peace 
 being at the time incapacitated, I myself did by 
 way of a jest perform a ceremony purporting and 
 351
 
 352 POWER LOT 
 
 pretending to be a marriage ceremony uniting 
 Cuby Tee-bo and Robert Hilton. But, having no 
 license or authority to perform any such ceremony, 
 I do hereby declare and confess the same to be null 
 and void, and in no way binding upon the said 
 Cuby Tee-bo and Robert Hilton. 
 
 And I, James Turbine, whose name is also affixed 
 hereto, do say and covenant, that no persecution 
 by law or otherwise shall be instituted or carried 
 on against the said Stuyvesant Belcher. 
 
 Signed, 
 
 Signed, JAMES TURBINE. 
 
 " Jim, you're a scholar," said Belcher reflectively, 
 looking long and keenly at me ; " you got it bad. Now, 
 Jim, the 'arth is all 'iled and runnin' smooth. Why 
 don't ye let her be till she begins ter creak? Then I'd 
 see what I c'd do." 
 
 I laughed. " Sign here, Stu," I said. 
 
 " Whar'd ye steal this pen, Jim? Which end d' ye 
 dip in the fluid? Mix a pint bottle o' ink next time, 
 'stead o' a quart, an' put in more bootblack, an' less 
 dough an' hens'-ile, Jim; add a leetle molasses soon as 
 ye git home, and a tetch o' new milk and cinnamon 
 somethin' soothin*. I better sign my own copy, 
 too? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Jim, see here ; I can't git this signature ter look 
 like the other. First time I signed my name there was 
 a ham-rind stickin' to the point o' the pen, and now 
 I'm workin' around here with a griddle-cake that 
 fastened onto the nib second time I dipped her into the
 
 THE "WRASTLE" BY THE RIVER 353 
 
 bottle. The' ain't no manner o' resemblance between 
 them two signatures. I sh'll be held up for forgery." 
 
 " No, I'll look out for that." 
 
 " You'll pertect me, Jim ? " said Belcher, with a great 
 affectation of maiden simplicity. 
 
 " I'll stand by ye to the last ditch, Stu." 
 
 " Because, ef ye couldn't, I'm perfectly competent 
 ter look out f'r myself. So you're runnin' things now, 
 are ye, Jim? I thought the sun was risin' kind o' dif- 
 ferent this mornin', and the tides hove in as ef some- 
 thin' was werryin' 'em. Wai', don't be too brash, Jim. 
 Handle 'em easy. How do ye like yer position? Does 
 the highmightiness of it pay ye for the pains ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Never mind. Somebody's got ter do it, an' Fm 
 glad o' a rest, tell you work up a herric'n an* I have 
 ter step in an* put things ter rights again. Wai', can 
 I move on now, or is thar' any more writin' ter do? 
 Good-by, Jim. Remember what I told ye about puttin' 
 some fresh-laid eggs, well beaten, and a tablespoonful 
 o' vanilla extrac' inter that ink." 
 
 I put Rob's release safe in my inner pocket. When 
 you are clearing the way for other people's bliss, and 
 the woman in it has grown into your life till you don't 
 hardly know lif e without her, you see blank for a while ; 
 that is, if you're not a better man than ever I was. 
 
 As I stood staring a bit toward the hill, meditating 
 whether it was better to climb it at once and deliver 
 over the paper to Rob, or sail direct over to Waldeck 
 and telegraph Doctor Margate to come on and re- 
 establish his charge financially, and take him and Mary 
 away out of harm, not knowing what might befall them
 
 354 POWER LOT 
 
 from the Gar' Tce-bo and Bate source, especially now 
 if the altered conditions of Rob's life were known ; so, 
 as I stood, Cuby herself came running to me from her 
 cabin door, all excitement, the brown hair on her fore- 
 head waving, hatless. 
 
 " Oh, Jeem, the bears is comin' ! The bears is comin' ! 
 Look you ! " 
 
 I looked, and saw a recurrent yearly event in this 
 region three tawny bears of huge dimensions led by 
 their keepers, approaching along the bluffs, creeping 
 mightily and cumbrously along; resigned and hopeless 
 travelers, soon to go through a forced dance and pass 
 the obsequious hat before us. 
 
 " Sure enough," I said. " Lord pity them." 
 
 " Come along, Jim," cried Cuby, her bright face 
 glowing, her eyes shining a rebuke at my indifference; 
 " come you down to be near them when they dance." 
 
 She caught my hand, and I followed. Mysteriously 
 arising from all quarters boys and girls, men and 
 women, began to dot the face of nature ; from Joggins 
 and the steep way and the lanes in all directions, the 
 groups began to gather in a nucleus at the River set- 
 tlement. 
 
 I saw Rob, one arm upheld in a sling, little Rhody 
 Ditmarse drawing him eagerly by the other hand. He 
 smiled when he saw us and came instantly over to us. 
 
 Rhody's small and wise countenance was abeam with 
 the general excitement and satisfaction. 
 
 " Me an' Rob cut a great pace hyperin' down here 
 to the f rolick, soon as ever we see the bears a-comin'," 
 she said, and added, in explanation of the green apples 
 she was heartily devouring, ' pf course, seein' as I was
 
 THE "WRASTLE" BY THE RIVER 355 
 
 off on a good time, I had to ketch off a few. cholerj- 
 balls to chew on the way." 
 
 Rob gave his familiar laugh of supreme enjoyment 
 and marveling admiration of Rhody. I can see that 
 genial face, to this day; no covert ridicule there, but 
 only as if he said, "Was there ever such a brilliant 
 little girl as this? " She made a hopeful diversion, for 
 though Rob and Cuby made some talk together, they; 
 were not at ease in each other's company. 
 
 " My, but I admire your cap w'at you wear, little 
 Rhode'," said Cuby, as if making friends on the whole 
 with this small and competent being who had once so 
 emphatically relieved her from the situation of " Grief " 
 on the Sunday-school stage ; " it mus' make-a you 
 proud, that cap." 
 
 " Oh no," said Rhody gravely ; " they come free. 
 But, o' course, I couldn't wear my Sunday hat to the 
 bear-frolick. A man goes around givin' these away, 
 an' you wear it all around so as to make known the 
 goods what's wrote on it." There was an illustration 
 of a table on Rhody's cap, surrounded by a family 
 group, from aged grandparent to infant in highchair, 
 and above the festive scene shone in clear type the 
 words, " Home Circle Tea." 
 
 " Car'line Treet," continued Rhody, " keeps wearin' 
 her old * sody ' cap. She says, * A dog 't ye know, 
 with its fur droopin', is better 'n a strange cat with 
 a ribbond 'round its neck.' Mebby she's right, but 
 anyway, Home Circle Tea's cap is the very last one 
 they've been 'round with, and all the children's 
 a-wearin' 'em " a statement confirmed on the spot by 
 the moving panorama of caps bearing that legend.
 
 356 POWER LOT 
 
 Rhody put up her hard little fist to grasp Rob's 
 hand in ecstasy as the bears came lunging down the 
 steeps, and Rob held her hand, smiling. 
 
 I knew not whether to slip the paper, then, into his 
 possession. While at sight of his face, I found my- 
 self willing enough, and eager, to do that, yet the look 
 of Bate's face and Gar' Tee-bo's glooming on the far 
 edge of the group bade me restrain the impulse yet 
 a while. I was thinking it might be better first to make 
 my sail to Waldeck and send my message to the doctor, 
 and to have another talk with Cuby. 
 
 " Forward-a-march-a ! " commanded the keepers of 
 their bears, in stentorian Italian mingled with evidences 
 of a bad cold in the head. The three great beasts stood 
 erect, and marched in time to an execrable tune sniffled 
 wearily and perfunctorily through the noses of the 
 three showmen ; marched and counter-marched, gigantic 
 creatures, offspring of the wilds about them, who could 
 have annihilated their keepers by a stroke of the paw 
 and scattered the multitude like chaff before the wind. 
 
 Their eyes were sodden, dull. The mighty wilder- 
 ness that had been theirs by right lay all about them ; 
 and they, tamed to earn their masters' bread and to 
 forego their very nature the epitome of awful pa- 
 tience and of all-crushed desire they danced and 
 climbed the swaying flagpole and " said their prayers " 
 amid the jibes of the crowd with the huge compliance 
 of painfully uplifted paws. 
 
 The tide was creeping in apace ; with it came the wind 
 of all bold adventure and triumph over adversity and 
 pain. 
 
 " Now wrastle-a-wrastle-a for the people."
 
 THE "WRASTLE" BY THE RIVER 357 
 
 They clinched and struggled in forced combat, growl- 
 ing angrily, so well trained, indeed, to simulated wrath 
 that their huge embrace showed intensely dramatic 
 against the background of the sea and hills. There 
 was a strange majesty about them; the wilderness was 
 still in them, and imperial strength. In my heart I 
 commended them to break away and make for the lair 
 of the forests that was waiting to receive them, but 
 they struggled on with sovereign obedience. 
 
 " No man is my keeper," I muttered. " I do so 
 because I will and I'll do it with joy, by God, because 
 I am a man." 
 
 " What? " said Cuby. "You make-a talk to your- 
 self, Jeem? " and she laughed. 
 
 The crowd was dispersing; the keepers, with the hat 
 of coppers collected through the incongruous whining 
 and scraping of the mighty bears, had tied the beasts 
 to a meal in the shed while they entered the " boarding- 
 house " for refreshment. Rob and Rhody were begin- 
 ning the ascent of the hill. The release paper was still 
 in my pocket, and there was much to do. 
 
 "No, I don't want to talk to myself, Cuby," I 
 answered. " I want to talk with you. It's in dead 
 earnest, too." We turned, walking slowly toward her 
 cabin together. 
 
 " You know, Cuby, I've always loved Mary Stin- 
 garee. I love her still, but that's over." 
 
 " God is good to you, Jeem," declared Cuby, with a 
 brave toss of the head. 
 
 " Now, you like to flirt with about everybody, Cuby, 
 and you've tried it a little on me, when there was no 
 better subject, I'm a rough old fellow. I don't expect
 
 358 POWER LOT 
 
 or reckon you could love me. But I've been thinking ; 
 and it seems to me, when we've got things settled, you 
 and I had better make out to sea together, and try 
 some new port for setting up a shanty. What do you 
 say, little girl? " 
 
 " Me," said Cuby in pale earnest. " I care not who 
 you loaf, so you let me mek' sail with you, Jeem." 
 
 " Do you care so much about sailing as that? " 
 
 " Look you," she said, her eyes very wide on mine. 
 " I care for sailing, yes ; but I loaf-a you, Jeem." 
 
 " So you told Rob, once? " 
 
 " But he no ! I play with heem. I mek' b'lieve. 
 See, I cross-a my heart ; it was you always I loaf. Now, 
 I have said, an' I am not ashem'." 
 
 The stars of her eyes looked boldly, yet with a certain 
 flower-like womanly sweetness, at me, out of her pale 
 face ; but above all things I saw, to my sudden enlight- 
 enment and amaze, that they were full of truth. 
 
 " Nothin' can mek' to scare you an' me, Jeem," she 
 laughed with a catch in her breath. " We go very good 
 together." 
 
 " But I am frightened to have you stay here, Cuby. 
 Your father and Bate are running down hill; they are 
 making their spree permanent; they are drinking so 
 much rum these days they are hardly responsible 
 beings." 
 
 " Look you, Jeem." Cuby glanced all about her, her 
 little forefinger lifted hushingly and warningly at me. 
 " Jeem," she whispered, " I know very much. Eef you 
 let me not to go with you, I have med my mind I shall 
 run away by myself. Hush they are weecked ! They 
 mek' talk by themselves when they have drink too much*
 
 THE "WRASTLE" BY THE RIVER 359 
 
 They theenk I am frien's to them. I am not frien's 
 to them but I tell no one but you hush." 
 
 " What is it, little girl? You can trust me. As you 
 say, you and I ' go together ' henceforth. What are 
 they planning? There's no one about. Do not be 
 afraid. In a few days' time, I will have you out of this 
 for good. Tell me all, Cuby." 
 
 " They plan a harm to you and Rob both. Bot 
 Marsy, w'at come in shore two days ago he halp them 
 in it. I was happen* to be the other side the wall, 
 pickin' chips. They was drunk. I hear them. They say 
 Rob has money, an' purty soon they say you shall 
 sail to Waldeck and get your money an' mek' away out 
 o' here." 
 
 " Now, how did they know that, the devils. I had 
 not told even you. I had not made up my mind until 
 to-day." 
 
 " My father gets a scare of them. They dreenk, 
 an' mek' a gre't laugh, an' say they shall nip thdfmonies 
 off you an' Rob biffore you mek' away. They say they 
 shall with the monies mek' away themselves, an' carry 
 me with them. But they shall not. I med' my mind. 
 I shall more rather die. My father gets a scare at 
 them. When they was seelly with the dreenk he turn-a 
 them out of his house. Hush, Jeem, eef they know I 
 tell-a you they keell me. They sleep at the Spook 
 House.' They have much dreenk there. Only me an' 
 my father know. Eef we tell, they keell us ; eef I tell, 
 my father keell me. They said it is comin' a full 
 moon, an' they see all over the worl' up at the Spook 
 House, so, whan it is good tarn' they nip the monies 
 off you an' Rob, an' mek' away."
 
 360 POWER LOT 
 
 " Is that all? " I said cheerfully. " I could defend 
 myself against half-a-dozen such fellows, little girl. 
 They will not molest you till they get the moneys ; and 
 as for Rob I'll not tell him, never fear but I'll see 
 that he stays safe indoors o' nights, and that a strong 
 man sleeps in the shed for guard. I know just the 
 man." 
 
 " Oh, but Jeem Jeem eef they come behind you 
 in the night, eef they strak' you on a sudden. Ah 
 they say you an' Rob weesh to parsacute them an' put 
 them in a preeson they say they got a right for to 
 do you." 
 
 " Have patience just a little while longer, Cuby, and 
 trust me. I must see some things settled before we go. 
 Your marriage to Rob was no marriage. It was a 
 farce. You knew that? " 
 
 She smiled intelligently. " Nem' it not to me," she 
 said. " Nem' that to me no more. It was stupeed. I 
 mek' a laugh at myself." 
 
 " And you are ready at any time to say that it 
 was Belcher and not Dessup who performed that 
 ceremony? " 
 
 " Sart'nlee," smiled Cuby. " It is but to amuse. 
 But, Jeem, say you not'ings until you an' me go away to- 
 gether. My father keel me. Ah, Jeem," she continued, 
 her face unclouded by the former sinister reflection, 
 " I weell-a mek' you 'appy. I am good sailor. I work 
 for you. I mek' all clean. I cook ah, Jeem, I am one 
 cook celebrate'." 
 
 " That is good. I am tired of my old frying-pan. 
 For years I've been contented over in my cabin or on 
 cruise, making my bread, frying my fish, and hashing
 
 THE "WRASTLE" BY THE RIVER 361 
 
 my potatoes in that old pan ; but we want all things new, 
 don't we, Cuby, when we go out with the tide some day 
 soon, and forage around for a home in some new 
 quarter of the earth? We'll begin all new, my girl; 
 and when I come back from Waldeck we must go to 
 old Dessup and get married." 
 
 " What-a. You marry me, Jeem? " cried Cuby, as 
 loud as she dared whisper. " You mek'-a to marry me 
 forever an* ever your wife? Jeem, I leef for you. I 
 die for you. See, I fall on my knee " 
 
 " No, no," I said, holding her, " my little girl. What 
 did you think " the pathos of it melted me to a sense 
 of eternal loyalty. "My wife? of course. Forever? 
 yes. And I'll be true and good to you, Cuby." 
 
 With her hand trembling in mine I looked at the 
 bleak gorge where the incoming tide would make a 
 sweet, full river by and by, and I thought not too 
 sadly now of the hour when we should make out to 
 where the ocean, too, is eternal. A hand that^ confides 
 in you is a hand that supports you most of all> A little 
 touch like that is beyond the fire and challenge of love ; 
 the charge is inalienable. 
 
 And I should prove myself Rob's friend, and Mary's. 
 Mary the courting of her would be a high office for 
 any man, meeting proud self-respect, lofty intelligence, 
 angelic condescension ; but there came to me the shadow 
 of a thought, that perhaps Cuby's giving of herself 
 held in it something a bit more by way of grandeur, 
 after all.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE STEEP WAY 
 
 So much more did I demand of Belcher, that I en- 
 listed his services to sleep for one night, unknown to 
 the family within, and on oath of secrecy, in the shed 
 of the Stingaree house. 
 
 Thereafter I could guard the house myself; but I 
 was for sailing to Waldeck that very night so as to 
 make the return trip on the morrow. The message 
 must be sent at once. 
 
 Belcher spent a night of much humor in the shed, 
 according to his relation to me of those circumstances 
 afterwards. 
 
 " I've suffered for ye, Jim," said he. " What are 
 ye so scart about Ma'y Stingaree for? The's nothin' 
 around to harm her. She's mittened ye anyway, eh? 
 You're a durn crank, Jim. You been a partly sup- 
 portin' her an' Bate unbeknownst to 'em this long while, 
 like a chapter outer the gospil. You ain't no gospil. 
 You're a durn tuff, two-lcggid crank, that's what you 
 be. Why don't ye haul yerself tergether and act like 
 a Christian? " 
 
 " I'm aiming for that, Stu." 
 
 " Wai', ye won't aim through me ag'in. I've spent 
 my last night in that hell-racket. I'd ruther make ray 
 piller on the flats 'long o' the clams. They're quiet. 
 I'd no sunner wrinch a rat off 'n my ear an' throw him 
 agin the side o* the shed, than I'd have ter pull one off
 
 THE STEEP WAY 363 
 
 my nose. Ef I opened my mouth, they'd begin ter 
 draw my teeth. Then when I'd slew so many of J em 
 that I was wore out and kind o' dozed off, ef three 
 Toms an' harf-a-dozen Betty cats f ollerin' didn't make 
 a dash at that little eight-by-ten-inch winderpane in the 
 rear o' the shed ter git in outer the rain; they lep so 
 husky, an' so fur, they landed clean acrost the shed 
 on my sleepin' mouth, every durn one of 'em. Wai', 
 don't say nothin'," sighed Belcher ; " Jim, I've suffered 
 for ye." 
 
 " I'll never forget it, Stu." 
 
 " Ye better not, ye blame ol' cabinet-size fool," re- 
 sponded Belcher, with a wink of such cheerful confidence 
 it almost took on the hue of affection. 
 
 If Belcher passed a night which he was able to con- 
 strue afterwards into so jocose an epic, I managed to 
 make a joy as well of that dark long sail to Waldeck. 
 It came on to rain, and the wind blew. But I knew my 
 course. I liked that night ! I loved it ! By Heaven, I 
 had joy! The storm and I fought it out alone in the 
 darkness. I tried my boat and sped her on. I knew 
 we should not fail. 
 
 It was too early for business in the town when I tied 
 to the wharf off Waldeck ; so I lay down to take a nap 
 in the cuddy of my own boat. When I woke the day 
 had dawned soft and warm. I missed the cold wind 
 and the storm, and went languidly in the sunshine, a 
 sort of ghost, preoccupied, amid the crude and noisy 
 traffic round about me ; and I sent my message. I drew 
 my money from the bank, for I had a longer voyage in 
 mind, and I should not touch at Waldeck again. 
 
 The wind was faint and baffling when I set sail for
 
 364 POWER LOT 
 
 home, but it breezed handsomely to a flying gale with 
 the high tide, and I made port before sunset. 
 
 Then for the next few days came the waiting for 
 the boat I had engaged to bring the doctor over from 
 Waldeck to show in the offing; that, and the necessary 
 precautions for Mary and Rob and Cuby. I could 
 have broken up the nest at Spook House, but that would 
 have brought Bate's recent history to light, and he was 
 Mary's brother; his crime had been against Rob, whom 
 she loved; and I, with heart and soul, was all for bind- 
 ing their romance now, not destroying it. And to 
 spirit Mary and Rob away, and to take Cuby away, be- 
 fore harm befell them, that was my work. 
 
 Some labor I did in the cornfield too, where my 
 scarecrow stood true. Mrs. Byjo was true. She slept 
 for defense on the lounge in the house, while I slept 
 in the shed, unknown to them within. 
 
 " What ailed Stu Belcher t'other night? " Mrs. Byjo 
 inquired, passing sturdily through the field on her way 
 home. " Queerest ructions I ever knew concerning 
 Stu. I knew he took a little once in a while, but I 
 thought he always kept his head." 
 
 "Why, what now?" 
 
 " Why, about ten o'clock o' night, I was reading, I 
 heard the steadiest snoring out in the shed good, 
 peaceable, honest, thundering snoring. There wasn't 
 any villainy to that snore, and it was dead heavy; no 
 timber that snored like that would work ye any harm. 
 And I went and looked, and there lay Stu Belcher. 
 I shut the door and went back to consider of it. If 
 you'll believe me, he lay there and kept his exhaust pipe 
 going at that same pace, without any break, till morn-
 
 THE STEEP WAY 365 
 
 ing; for I lay awake a long time, listening, and every 
 time I woke afterwards, I heard him, drawing his coal 
 and freight cars up grade, all the night through." 
 
 44 Funny. Nothing disturbed him no mice? No 
 cats?" 
 
 " The cat was inside under the stove, and I cleaned 
 all the rodents out o' there long ago. But the question 
 is, what was he there for? I said nothing to Mary. 
 Thought I'd ask you first." Her eye twinkled. 
 
 " Good old Stu," I said ; " he's sort of eccentric, you 
 know. Don't give him away." 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Byjo, her commonplace eyes flash- 
 ing intelligence at me, and with an approving tremble 
 in her voice, " * good old ' Jim, nor I won't give you 
 away, neither." 
 
 Before noon I went down to the River again, where 
 Cuby was on the lookout continually for the sail that 
 should bring deliverance in the person of the great 
 doctor. 
 
 It was yet hardly time for it, we considered, when 
 after a day's work, as I stood looking off at the grand 
 desolate gorge of the river with the lead of suspense 
 on my heart, Cuby, from her cabin door, called to me 
 excitedly, but softly: 
 
 " Jeem, thes'el! It is come! Itisheem!" The tide 
 was low, and the boat anchored far out. Two men 
 boarded the little punt; one landed and the other re- 
 turned to the boat. By that time I had raced to the 
 shore. Doctor Margate approached me, his usually 
 ruddy face as pale as death. 
 
 "Is she very ill, Jim?" he said. "What is the 
 matter?"
 
 366 POWER LOT 
 
 "Mary he is well," I said. 
 
 A great light came over his face suddenly. 
 
 " Does she want me? " he asked. " Does she want 
 me to take her away? " 
 
 " Sit down here a minute first, sit down here on the 
 bowlder," I said. " Mary Stingaree's a wonderful 
 woman, a sublime woman, but she seems to mix up the 
 ideas in a fellow's head sometimes. I know how that is. 
 Let's sit down here now, and see straight. I I've got 
 a story to tell ye; but before I begin it I want to say 
 that Rob he's done well." 
 
 " Right ! Jim Turbine," said the doctor. " I'm afraid 
 that I know your story," he added. "Rob has done 
 well marvelously well, I'm afraid? " 
 
 I chuckled the same despairing chuckle that he did. 
 
 " You're a big man, I know," I said, " but you ain't 
 left anything more important back there in the States 
 than what you've come to here." 
 
 His look dwelt on me kindly, without words, singu- 
 larly long. 
 
 " Look here," I braced up to say, laughing, for I 
 did not understand his look ; " me and some other 
 tremendous old hulks o' bears, that might 'a' torn 
 everything to pieces if they'd been a mind to we've 
 marched and we've wrastled and climbed and made our 
 prayers even. I reckon you've done some wrastlin' 
 and climbing on your own account, doctor." 
 
 " Yes, Jim, you and I have climbed, but I think you 
 have done, impetuously and fearlessly, and wholly and 
 decisively you have attained something of a peak be- 
 yond my reach, my good fellow." 
 
 Educated people have a way of making you think
 
 THE STEEP WAY 367 
 
 that they're smiling at you inside. Mary had it. But 
 I did not heed it. I had more to say. 
 
 " You will father that union between Rob and Mary, 
 doctor? They will be rich, I know. You will do all 
 that mortal can do to make them happy ? " 
 
 He seemed to be overinterested in studying my 
 gnarled visage. 
 
 " You are not old, Jim," he said. " I've been told 
 something about you. You have stood back of Mary 
 Stingaree always when she was here, protecting her, 
 looking out for her, without her full knowledge." 
 
 " I could not do much," I said impatiently, for he 
 would not come to the point. 
 
 " You loved her best of all, Jim! " 
 
 " Me ! " I turned and laughed. " Her for me ! 
 What is loving? " I said. " Say, I been through some 
 storms I've clambered up the steeps yonder many a 
 wild night, alone. There's a view when ye git up there. 
 Love is pretty much carin' for them that needs care, 
 ain't it? " 
 
 His face flushed with a color that was not angry. 
 
 " People cfo not usually act thus, and with the im- 
 pulse of a dart from the sky, Jim." 
 
 " I haven't done it very well, I know," I answered 
 him; "but I done it." 
 
 " Give me your hand," said he, in a quiet, off-hand 
 way. "We've got nothing better back there in the 
 great city of advantages to give Rob than he has 
 found here, Jim." 
 
 " That's true, too," I answered. " The work was 
 wonderful good for the lad ; and he caught on to the 
 idea of foregoing what he just wanted for what he
 
 368 POWER LOT 
 
 ought to do. He caught on to that, wonderful. Shall 
 we climb the steep way, doctor? It's the shortest. Let 
 me carry your bag." 
 
 He handed me his burden. Where the hill-lane 
 turns off to the hamlet of Power Lot, God Help Us, I 
 stood a moment before I left him. There was a strug- 
 gle. I had reckoned on handing the release to Rob 
 myself. I'd sort of pictured it; but the doctor looked 
 so forlorn and courageous standing there, with the 
 steady light of duty in his eyes, it came easy after all, at 
 the wrench. 
 
 " Oh, by the way," I says, " will you give this paper 
 to Rob and Mary? I can't go there just now, I got 
 so much to do." 
 
 He smiled long at me. 
 
 " No, Jim Turbine," he said, " I'll have nothing to 
 do with it. You must bring that yourself later on." 
 
 I thrust it in his hand and fled. I had joy of it. No 
 man ruled me. I did what I would. 

 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 MRS. BYJO KISSES HEE BOARDER 
 
 As the doctor approached the house the sordid poverty 
 of its surroundings struck him as it had not done be- 
 fore, when he had a blissful hope in his heart. 
 
 The romance was not for him. The fences were no 
 longer picturesque ; they were distressful .and broken 
 down ; the attitude of the little porch and of the whole 
 house breathed destitution and decay. Pausing for a 
 moment, he heard steps behind him, and turned to see 
 Mrs. By jo. 
 
 " What ! " said she, grasping his hand in cordial sur- 
 prise, .and holding it with fraternal loyalty. " What ! 
 By Jo my boarder ! " 
 
 " So you did not know that I was expected? " he 
 answered, acknowledging with a genial smile the wel- 
 come beaming upon him through her spectacles, while 
 she seemed manly unconscious that his hand was still 
 clasped in her own hard palm. 
 
 "I sighted the event, yes," said Mrs. Byjo; "but 
 not quite so near. The Lord has sent ye in the nick o' 
 time. Doctor, I've got a story to tell ye. Rob's done 
 well." 
 
 " So I have heard." 
 
 "Who told ye?" 
 
 " Jim Turbine. In fact, he sent for me." 
 
 "He did, did he?" She dropped his hand in her 
 disinterested joy. " By Jo, Jim's done well."
 
 370 POWER LOT 
 
 " Who is doing well by me? " the doctor blurted out 
 whimsically. 
 
 Mrs. Byjo studied him without comprehension. Her 
 own life of complete self-sacrifice had not acquainted 
 her with many habits of personal choice or ambition. 
 The simple bewilderment on her face cut the doctor's 
 spirit of badinage to the quick. 
 
 " No wonder Rob has done well," he subjoined; " no 
 wonder Jim has done well. If you would only have 
 adopted me at Power Lot I might have done well, too. 
 You were always kind to me, but you would not make 
 me one of your own, you know." 
 
 " No," said she, " you never asked me, and I shouldn't 
 if ye had. My family was such next thing to royal 
 there was very few fit for me to mate with, even if I'd 
 had the mind." 
 
 Her eyes twinkled humorously behind her glasses. 
 Nevertheless her straight little figure was as actually 
 commanding as it was grotesque. 
 
 " Well," he sighed, following her lead with interest, 
 " that is a pity. I can assure you the magnet that drew 
 me back here was strong." 
 
 " I know it was," she declared seriously ; and her 
 round face sobered. " I know that. The magnet that 
 drew ye was the hope of freeing Rob and Mary and 
 starting 'em off happy together; and I bet on ye, 
 doctor. I bet on ye, by Jo ! I bet my cattle and cart 
 on ye! I bet my house and barn on ye! I bet my 
 potato crop, and my livin' soul on ye ! Your name may 
 not be in the heraldry, or it may be I don't know as to 
 that but for honest, straightforward doing of your 
 part in the sight of God, you come next to the Staf-
 
 MRS. BYJO KISSES HER BOARDER 371 
 
 fords. Well," she added blithely, " your old room 
 facin' to the Bay is all ready for ye, doctor and the 
 fish '11 be fried just to suit ye after ye've been over to 
 see the folks. Quit 'em as soon as ye can, and come 
 'round where things are sensible." 
 
 She turned toward her own house. The doctor 
 watched her. Never between heaven and earth had he 
 seen so assertive and self-confident a gait. 
 
 " There's a thorough antidote for all self-commu- 
 nings," he commented admiringly on her retreating 
 figure. He rather hoped not to meet Rob just yet, 
 when he entered the Stingaree house. The young man 
 whom he had saved had, though innocently, defrauded 
 him in return of something dearer than his possessions, 
 dearer almost than life itself; and, for a weak instant 
 only, he dreaded to meet that engaging sunny face. 
 He had his wish. Rob was farther down the bluffs, 
 pasturing half-a-dozen sheep which, while his arm was 
 still in sling, he had purchased as a humble accessory to 
 his dreams of accumulating wealth. 
 
 Mary, alone, too full of anxiety to be able to con- 
 centrate hej* unoccupied moments on a book, had been 
 rummaging about the old house, dusting and rearrang- 
 ing, looking over the few remaining possessions of her 
 own from a wardrobe that had once been dainty and 
 complete. 
 
 Her constant thought was that Bate might come in, 
 surly and ashamed ; so she conceived the idea of dress- 
 ing girlishly in white, with ribbons at waist and throat ; 
 taking him off guard and keeping him by a manner of 
 assumed festivity and utter oblivion to his past; meet- 
 ing him with smiles and cheer and welcome.
 
 372 POWER LOT 
 
 " So that he will not feel that there is any reproach 
 toward him, nor be afraid and not think me old and 
 sad. For I am young, really," she murmured. " If I 
 could only move him if I could get him to take me 
 away before Rob brings her to the hill to live; for I 
 cannot bear that. If I could go away with Bate, and 
 save him, and care for him. He may come to-night." 
 
 As a sudden fulfillment to her hope and purpose she 
 heard a man's step on the porch ; and it was not Rob's, 
 she knew therefore, it must be Bate's. She went to 
 meet him with an eager smile. 
 
 Doctor Margate was well convinced in that instant 
 that Mary Stingaree, at least, had not expected him. 
 She stood as though some blow had smitten her, as 
 frightened and appealing as any sweet human lass clad 
 all in white. 
 
 " Doctor Margate what is the matter? " she cried, 
 and then, "Where is Rob?" 
 
 " Yonder," replied the doctor, pointing to where in 
 the distance Rob had just stopped at the affianced Mrs. 
 Treet's door for a chat on his way home. He drew her 
 to a chair. Her weakness seemed the greater for the 
 years wherein she had stood so firmly to her ideals of 
 duty and devotion. Her girlish faintness and silence, 
 the dark, troubled eyes lifted to him with question and 
 appeal, bade him still again the tumult in his own heart. 
 
 " My dear," said he, strangely, guardedly, not touch- 
 ing her ; " Rob has won your heart, and, since he has 
 done that, the days of poverty and struggle and social 
 ostracism are over for you both. You shall take your 
 proper place. That is why I. have come. To take you 
 and Rob away."
 
 MRS. BYJO KISSES HER BOARDER 373 
 
 " Rob is bound," said Mary, the old purpose and 
 resolve showing bleakly, but true, in her beautiful eyes. 
 " Rob is bound. You do not remember." 
 
 " He is bound home, with you. The marriage be- 
 tween him and Cuby Tee-bo was simply a farce. 
 Neither legally nor morally is it binding. Moreover, 
 James Turbine is going to marry the girl and take 
 her away out of harm's way." 
 
 "Jim!" 
 
 " Let me tell you. I am going to tell you all. It is 
 best. Your brother is insane in his excesses. He 
 attempted to kill Rob at some quarry. He stole his 
 money, though compelled afterwards to return that. 
 He is hanging about now, with someone to share his 
 orgy, at the old ' Spook House,' with the intention of 
 doing further harm. Put him into my hands. If 
 aught in this world can help him he will be helped. 
 Let me have that in charge. Some part of your life 
 I crave ; dear girl, let that be my portion of your 
 family life." 
 
 There was no scorn on the great man's lips. Mary 
 stretched out her hands as one falling clutches at some 
 support. The doctor did not take her hands, though 
 his words were inexpressibly tender in tone. 
 
 " You must bear bravely still the trial of this 
 brother's life," he said. " But you must be true to 
 others as well. You must be true to Rob. If you or 
 he still have any doubt as to your duty or your abso- 
 lute freedom, why, I understand " the doctor smiled 
 " that the fact that the marriage was a farce is so 
 admitted and set down in black and white in a paper 
 which James Turbine obtained and secured, and gave
 
 374 POWER LOT 
 
 me to hand to Rob. I have it safe. But I shall see 
 that Captain Turbine gives it to the joyful Rob, him- 
 self; for I fancy that he took heroic measures to 
 obtain it." 
 
 "Jim!" 
 
 When they were in stress of thought, or had nothing 
 else to say, they put the burden of speech off on to that 
 easy-spoken, brief name they just said " Jim." 
 
 " For no other woman " the tender smile on the 
 doctor's face grew whimsical " could I have returned 
 that fine young rascal so quickly to his inheritance. 
 With you, I am not afraid. He did well for himself, 
 indeed, when he won your heart. He will be here soon. 
 You are very sweet to-night, and beautiful, troubled, 
 glad, helpless, soft, and young. You would rive the 
 heart of any man who loved you. Do not tease Rob. 
 Your eyes melt the soul of a man, and bewilder him 
 any man who loved you. And as for Rob, they say 
 he worships you." 
 
 He did not turn to her again. " I am going to my 
 good friend Mrs. By jo," he said. " When I see you 
 again you and Rob must have your plans made, or I 
 shall have to carry you both away by force." 
 
 Mrs. Byjo, her evening work done, was waiting for 
 her " boarder." 
 
 "Well," said the doctor cheerfully, in straight- 
 forward Power Lot, God Help Us, fashion, " Mary and 
 Rob are going away with me, to be married. They 
 will have the means to live in royal style, my good 
 friend. Captain James Turbine will be marrying Cuby 
 and roaming away with her." 
 
 Mrs. Byjo suddenly sprang forward and kissed the
 
 MRS. BYJO KISSES HER BOARDER 375 
 
 gentle though distinguished gentleman. Her spectacles 
 were scattered with the impetuosity of the impact, and 
 she searched for them without embarrassment, and with 
 joyful tears in her eyes, the doctor aiding her. 
 
 " I thank you for that mark of your approval and 
 condescension, Mrs. Stafford," he said very gravely; 
 and added gently, " I hold that kiss as sacred." 
 
 " If I was young and handsome and rich, which I 
 never was," said Mrs. Byjo, settling her restored 
 glasses on her pathetic little snub nose, " you'd seem 
 like a brother to me; for being of the family I am, 
 and not knowing yours, I don't know as I could con- 
 sider any closer tie; but the poor old woman couldn't 
 help giving ye a smack." 
 
 " I shall never forget that I have a royal sister," 
 replied the doctor, " who has given me a token of 
 esteem which I hold forever sacred."
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 ALL IN WHITE 
 
 CUBY could tie her clothes in a bundle. She could wear 
 her Sunday hat till the sea winds tore and the fogs 
 wilted it. That would be part of her honeymoon. Then 
 she would go cheerfully back to the old felt headgear. 
 Life was plain and easy for us to sail forth unhampered. 
 
 " You are bold," my bride-elect commended me, with 
 a vain toss of the head ; " you wait not, you go sweef t 
 as the wind. But Ma'y Sting'ree and Rob, they go 
 not so much even as a leetle way with us? " she asked, 
 anxious to be assured on that point. 
 
 " No, another boat is engaged to take them to Wai- 
 deck, and then they will go by the railroad ; they will 
 go back to a life you and I know nothing about. But 
 you and I will sail where we will, Cuby, and anchor 
 where we will; and when we find the right place the 
 place that suits us we'll settle down there and live by 
 the fishing." 
 
 " You will be 'appy if you are on the water every 
 day, Jeem ? " she said wistfully. 
 
 That went to my heart. 
 
 " We will be happy on the water or on shore at 
 home ; never fear, girl," said I. And now that my worl 
 was about done, I was as eager as she to get out to sea. 
 I had one more night to sleep as guard in the shed of 
 the Stingaree house. When their lights went out up 
 
 376
 
 ALL IN WHITE 377 
 
 yonder on the hill, then I made my stealthy way thither, 
 knowing that Cuby was safe by the River. Bate and 
 his crony would not trouble her until they had secured 
 the booty they were reckoning on. 
 
 There was a patient show that last evening, as 
 patient as the bears. After an un-theatered hiatus of 
 months, the traveling shows were making a record of 
 unprecedented frequency along the River. It was a 
 ventriloquist this time a ventriloquist and sleight-of- 
 hand performer in one; and so satanic and diabolical 
 were his occult powers believed to be, he was relegated 
 to the basement of the schoolhouse, the only cover 
 large enough to hold his ready audience. Belcher was 
 there. % 
 
 The patient little showman waited long after the hour 
 advertised for the initial dish of the dark feast he was 
 to give, in order to see whether some of the many faces 
 leering in from the outside of the uncurtained windows 
 would pay the necessary fee for an entrance. 
 
 " See here," Belcher's voice broke the silence, " you 
 got a good-sized audience inside here all the chairs '11 
 hold. Go ahead with your fork-lightning and salt- 
 peter." 
 
 With a consenting sigh our entertainer seated him- 
 self on a deal chair in the center of the platform, a 
 caricature of the Irish race represented in the doll 
 which he held on his right knee, while on the other knee 
 he supported an equally exaggerated type of dark and 
 unkempt Africa. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen," he said, " let me introduce 
 to you Mr. Maguire and Mr. Johnsing, who will now 
 carry on a mysterious conversation together without the
 
 378 POWER LOT 
 
 aid of human instruments. As you observe and listen, 
 you will wonder how these little mechanical devices 
 for I assure you these are nothing but ordinary dolls 
 can open and shut their mouths, and converse in in- 
 telligent sounds plainly issuing from their own insides. 
 If anyone in my audience doubts that these are simply 
 ordinary dolls, I invite him to come to the platform 
 and examine them now, for they have sometimes been 
 interrupted in the midst of an interesting conversation 
 by clamors on the part of the audience maintaining 
 that they were not dolls at all, but human midgets that 
 I was palming off upon them as miraculous talkers. 
 Would anyone like to come up and examine the 
 dolls?" 
 
 A crude and credulous being from the rear of the 
 house wended his way to the platform and inspected 
 carefully the objects on the performer's lap. 
 
 " Them's dolls," he reassured the audience with a 
 grin, and went lumberingly back to his seat by the 
 water pail. 
 
 " You hear," said the showman, " these are none 
 other than ordinary dolls. Now 
 
 " * The tap o' the day to yez, Sambo. W'ot's afther 
 puttin* the kink in yer hair, eh? ' " the mouth of the 
 Irish doll, as presumable authority for this rude speech, 
 opened and shut with the automatic regularity of a 
 piston rod; and a shout of glee went up from some 
 small untraveled boys, for whom the present occasion 
 contained every element of vivid excitement. 
 
 "'Min' yo' business, Paddy. My haVs all right. 
 Say, do every'body in Cork have ears de size o* 
 yourn?'"
 
 ALL IN WHITE 379 
 
 " The nigger-doll's mouth ain't workin'," protested 
 one of the small boys, in a loud cry of bitter chagrin. 
 
 The magician blushed with an active emotion, as of 
 an old pain revived, and, working vigorously at the 
 crank concealed in Sambo's back, he bent his head to 
 observe whether the lips of the recalcitrant one moved 
 in becoming accord; but that thick orifice remained 
 obstinately shut. With a deep sigh he laid the Irish 
 orator on the floor, and placing Africa face downwards 
 across his knees he gave his entire attention to read- 
 justing the springs which so fatally controlled the 
 vocal organs of this dark subject. Again and again 
 he essayed to compel issuance of speech, but though 
 bold verbal assault and caustic ribaldry possessed the 
 African from head to toe, the mouth necessary to con- 
 firm these emotions remained shut with the tenacity of a 
 sprung trap. 
 
 "Want a screwdriver?" volunteered Belcher, oblig- 
 ingly making his way to the platform. " I always 
 carry one in my pocket, and I worked in a machine-shop 
 a spell, once. We'll make Sambo open his mouth, *r 
 know the reason why. Nobody ain't got no right ter 
 deliver themselves o' sech a mess o' sass as that with 
 their mouth shet." 
 
 While Belcher, with the sweat streaming from his 
 brow for the room was close and hot was thus 
 studiously repairing the first number of the perform- 
 er's subtle programme, the flock who had been gaping 
 in through the windows flowed noiselessly in and dis- 
 posed themselves in good form among the worthier and 
 legitimately registered guests. 
 
 But though his back was turned in anxious con-
 
 380 POWER LOT 
 
 templation of Belcher's skill, the showman was entirely 
 conscious of this act of piracy. He took his collect- 
 ing-dish from among the other resources and para- 
 phernalia of his inscrutable art, and proceeded to pass 
 it among the newcomers. 
 
 " No, thank ye," politely observed the first pirate 
 into whose face the dish was suggestively thrust. " I 
 won't take anything. I had my supper jest before I 
 left home." 
 
 " This," explained the magician, " is my dish for 
 collecting entrance fees." 
 
 The courteous pirate put his hand to his ear and 
 leaned forward smilingly. " Thank ye, jest the same," 
 he repeated. " I won't take anything. I had my 
 supper." 
 
 The faint artist continued to wander, holding out 
 his dish in the hope of finding truth and some more 
 substantial spoils, until interrupted by Belcher, under 
 whose manipulation Sambo's mouth was now opening 
 to the utmost limit and shutting regularly with the loud 
 precision of a corn-sheller. 
 
 " Oh, let 'em alone, and come up here and play out 
 some more o' yer bill," said the good-natured Belcher, 
 resuming his unofficial seat among the audience. " All 
 on us that paid could git our money back ef we wanted 
 to, 'cause you advertised them dolls ter talk without 
 aid o' human instruments. A screw-driver's a human 
 instrument, ain't it? An' it's me an* my screw-driver 
 has geared up Sambo, thar', into yawpin' trim agin. 
 But we don't want our money back. Ye're a-doin' well. 
 Ye're a-doin' first-rate. The show ain't what it ad- 
 vertised ter be, but it's a durn sight better. 'Xceptin'
 
 ALL IN WHITE 381 
 
 when some special number like Sambo thar' needs 
 regulatin', it's the restfullest thing I ever went to. 
 Let the boys alone, Beelzebub; git up onto the plat- 
 form ; turn on yer fireworks agin ; make yer dynamite 
 rattle now." 
 
 Inspired by this pyrotechnic utterance, the disheart- 
 ened craftsman reseated himself and worked Sambo and 
 Paddy to such facetious measures, including several 
 songs, that a round of applause followed. Misled by 
 this generous encouragement, the dialogue stretched 
 on and on into such overbearing proportions of time 
 that the pirates rose wearily at last and stalked boldly 
 forth into the outer elements, where they languidly re- 
 sumed their old post of observation at the windows. 
 They were joined by a number, who, though legiti- 
 mately entitled to the luxury of the interior, were will- 
 ing to forego their privilege for the sake of the clearer 
 atmosphere outside ; among these Cuby and I stood 
 near a window which had been opened several inches by 
 an unscrupulous pirate resolved to hear as well as see. 
 
 Our cheeks were wet with tears of laughter; and 
 we were to sail next day, the Lord knew where; 
 and there was a suspicion of tragedy in the air. And 
 what there had been to laugh at, I could not have told 
 if brought to any analysis of it, but we had laughed 
 the very richness of spontaneous mirth. Maybe it 
 was Belcher's face, magisterially grave and observant 
 of proceedings on the stage, or it may have been the 
 many unrelated incidents among the audience, which 
 made that body a far livelier theater of action than the 
 recognized platform. 
 
 I sobered, as the free wind struck my face again, and
 
 382 POWER LOT 
 
 looked off toward the hill. The lights were still burn- 
 ing brightly there. 
 
 " When the lights go out I must see you home and 
 then go up yonder to my watch, Cuby," I said. 
 
 " All right, Jeem," replied my fearless little maiden. 
 The unknown future held only the joy of release and 
 of all possible adventure to her. 
 
 We heard Belcher's voice, so dominant that it pealed 
 out roundly through the open window : 
 
 " It's wonderful, Beelzebub. The way you make 
 them dolls talk without no human agency is a mystery 
 to me, anyhow. But now the hour is waxin' kind o' 
 late, suppose you pass on to the next figger in the pro- 
 gramme. Put in some sulphur this time, Beelzebub ; we're 
 gittin' a mite sleepy." 
 
 The showman rose obediently, laid aside his dolls, 
 and advanced to the front of the platform with a bow, 
 as a preface to the next act. 
 
 ** I will now," he said, " to your astonishment, take 
 from the neck of anyone in the audience whom you 
 may name and choose to point out to me for the act, a 
 live goose. Positively, a live goose. You will be at 
 liberty to inspect and handle the same after I have 
 brought it to light, in order to assure yourselves that 
 it is indeed' an ordinary bird of the species known to 
 man, such as we are all accustomed to, though its 
 mysterious and unaccountable appearance from the 
 neck of anyone you may mention in the audience has 
 never yet been explained by any known laws of science." 
 
 With another bow he retreated to the dim corner 
 near a loose-geared end window where his few stage 
 trappings lay piled. He was evidently rummaging,
 
 ALL IN WHITE 883 
 
 and as the search continued, it was felt that some blight 
 had already fallen upon the proposed miracle. The 
 magician suddenly rushed to the front of the stage in 
 a panic. 
 
 " My goose is gone," he cried accusingly. " Who 
 has stolen my goose? " 
 
 " Where'd you keep him ? " inquired Belcher. 
 
 " In a cratebox under my table. A blanket lay on 
 top of the box, and my accordion was on top of the 
 blanket." 
 
 "Is yer accordian gone?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Wai', you play something for the folks on yer ac- 
 cordian, and I'll find yer goose for ye," said Belcher, 
 rising. He strolled out among the pirates familiarly. 
 
 " Look-a here, you cubs," he accosted them, " you 
 hand over poor Beelzebub's goose. Poor leetle creetur', 
 he only charged five cents admission, an' it's a durn 
 sight funnier 'n the real thing. An' you didn't pay 
 nothin'. Poor leetle cuss, he ain't got no gift for 
 what he's undertook ter do, but I'm goin' ter advise 
 him kind and gentle by 'n by ter quit jugglery, an' 
 steal a hymnbook off somebody when they ain't lookin', 
 an' go off 's one o' these 'ere furrin missionaries. Now 
 you hand me over that goose, an' watch through the 
 winders an' see Beelzebub haul him outer Towse Dud- 
 frey's coat collar. Sport's been kind o' mild so fur, 
 but the wind's go'n' ter breeze afore we git through. 
 Gi' me that goose." 
 
 A torpid bird of that description was held out to 
 Belcher, who seized it and returned to the scene of 
 troubled legerdemain. As the showman saw him ap-
 
 384 POWER LOT 
 
 preaching with the prize he changed a plaintive render- 
 ing of " Annie Laurie " into the jubilant strains of 
 " Marching Through Georgia." 
 
 But we did not stay to witness the fulfillment of 
 Belcher's prophecy; the night had worn on, the lights 
 were out away off on the hill. 
 
 " It was a patient show," I observed to Cuby, con- 
 ducting her home ; " the poor fellow was patient, and 
 he had a gift of language." 
 
 " Capataine Belcher could do a more bettaire show 
 than heem," said Cuby. She would have regretted 
 deeply leaving the sprightly scene at this inconclusive 
 hour, had not her mind been full of the supreme ad- 
 venture on which we were to embark on the morrow. 
 
 I kissed her good-night, and turned to my long 
 tramp towards the steeps, and up them, to fulfill my last 
 watch in Power Lot, God Help Us. The moon was 
 almost at its full, and the brooding of it over ocean, 
 hill and plain was like a voice falling infinitely peace- 
 ful and tender one knew not from where. It was 
 more than moonlight on the quiet earth; it was a 
 plain speaking, though I knew not the language of it. 
 
 Down below, they opened all the windows where 
 the show was in progress, therefore I heard; the ma- 
 gician had struck up an air, the sweet old melody of 
 which reached me faintly in the distance, " Nearer, 
 My God, to Thee." The faint, far echo of that strain 
 was like a pervading spirit, consonant with the moon- 
 light, flooding with compassion all poor human jug- 
 glery and endeavor, even as the moon flooded the earth 
 with tender glory. 
 
 I don't know what God has got for a man up yonder
 
 ALL IN WHITE 385 
 
 that, through a thought or a strain of music some 
 times, the sense comes to him that nothing matters very 
 much, that there's nothing on earth but what is easy 
 to put by, since the voice that he hears, less than a 
 whisper now, may speak to him at last in full tones 
 that he understands. 
 
 I had forgotten the habit of caution and watchful- 
 ness to which I had been schooling myself of late, so ab- 
 sorbed was I in the wonder that fell on my heart; 
 when, from over on the summit, by the old church 
 " Spook House " a scream of terror and agony came 
 to me, piercing my very soul. I knew it for Mary's 
 voice. 
 
 I ran madly. I saw the figure of a man flying across 
 to the bluffs. Retribution, swift and sure, should find 
 him out, but now my one purpose was to reach her, 
 I leaped all obstacles and rushed up the hill, a horrible 
 fear possessing me. The door of the church was open 
 and I sprang in. 
 
 Bate Stingaree lay on the floor, gibbering and writh- 
 ing. Mary had slipped, fainting, by the window from 
 which she had screamed for aid. 
 
 " Jim's dead, too," raved Bate, shriveling white be- 
 fore my eyes. " Mary's dead all come to torment 
 me." The room reeked with vile odors and with the 
 fumes of alcohol. " Why, ain't you got white clothes 
 on, Jim? For you're dead, you and Ma'y are dead, I 
 know it. Come, somebody that's alive. Help ! Help ! 
 Where's the stuff? Give me something that '11 shut 
 my eyes. I can't stand this." With oaths and cries 
 of terror, his ghastly hand crept over the floor, seeking 
 for his bottle.
 
 386 POWER LOT 
 
 I lifted Mary. It wrung my heart to see the poor 
 white dress, in which she had been so happy and girlish 
 a little while before she, to whom so little happiness 
 had come, whose cup had ever been turned to bitterness. 
 I lifted her and carried her outside ; and as the strong 
 wind smote her face, she gasped once and again, and 
 opened her great, desolate, dark eyes and knew me. 
 
 " Jim," she said, and seized my hand convulsively, 
 as though she feared that I would move from her side. 
 
 "Why, yes, it's old Jim," I soothed her. "It's 
 old Jim, sure, in the flesh." 
 
 Leaning heavily on my arm, so that I almost carried 
 her, as soon as she was able she drew me back into the 
 church. 
 
 " Bate," she gasped ; " Bate," and pointed pitifully 
 to where he lay. Bate's writhing had ceased. 
 
 " It was I frightened him," she gasped. " I never 
 dreamed I wanted to see him I never dreamed he 
 was so ill I never thought of the white dress. Look, 
 he is not dead ? My poor brother ! My poor brother ! " 
 
 I did not know. " He is asleep," I said ; " in a 
 drunken sleep. Come! I must take you home, and 
 bring help." 
 
 On the way, still hanging weakly, faintly, to my arm, 
 she told me: 
 
 "I put the lights out in the house when Virginia 
 had gone to sleep. Rob was asleep upstairs. I crept 
 out. I, to be so happy and my brother wretched and 
 forsaken. I meant to find him to plead with him 
 once more to talk over with him what he should do. 
 I was not afraid. I did not think about my white dress 
 nor the strangeness of my going in the night, alone
 
 ALL IN WHITE 387 
 
 nor the name of the old church, that it was haunted. 
 I only felt that I must see him. 
 
 " Once before, he had hid there. I knew that he was 
 there and I went. There was another man with him. 
 The door was not locked. I opened it and went in. 
 They were leaning together at the window toward 
 the steep road, watching. Bate turned and saw me, 
 and threw up his arms and fell. The other leaped from 
 the window and ran. When I saw Bate's face and 
 his groveling and writhing as if he were hurt and 
 gone insane I screamed." 
 
 I left Mary at the house with Mrs. Stafford, awak- 
 ened, and I roused Rob. Together we went back to 
 the church. Bate lay quiet on the floor. 
 
 That desperate, wild, sodden heart was steeped at 
 last in the rest that waketh not to earth. Together 
 we carried him home Rob and I. 
 
 Mary lay on the couch with Mrs. Stafford's friendly 
 arm about her. Her eyes questioned me with only 
 fear and horror in their depths. 
 
 " We have brought him home," I said, " and God 
 has brought him home. What do you think," I said 
 sharply and sternly, for she would have fainted again, 
 " have you lived up here, looking off on the sea from 
 Power Lot, God Help Us, so long, not to remember 
 ever that the Great Deep is infinite? " 
 
 Her eyes, fastened upon me, besought me. 
 
 " He was born," I said, " weak and infirm of nature 
 with what defects God knows who has taken him 
 has taken him home, I say. And it is well. You are 
 no true hearts that would say otherwise. By the look 
 on his poor face, he too was born again even in the
 
 388 POWER LOT 
 
 moment of his passing. Why not? Do not wail and 
 weep, as if you and we alone had the insight of God's 
 long plans and the monopoly of His mercy." 
 
 " Jim," she gasped, appealing, " I blame myself." 
 
 " You are weak then, Mary. You went to him as a 
 last brave impulse in a long drill of unrequited for- 
 bearance and devotion. It would have been the same. 
 He would only have worked further ill here. It is 
 well. But you are only faithless and unloving, weak 
 and frightened, in the thoughts you have toward him 
 now and that is not like you." 
 
 The hope and color of the living had come back a 
 little faintly to her face, and she was resting now 
 upon Rob's strong arm; but her hand she lifted up 
 and placed in mine. 
 
 " You are very sure, Jim ? You believe those words 
 you said? " 
 
 " Aye, I believe them with all my soul." 
 
 " No, but hold my hand a little, Jim," she said, al- 
 most fretfully. " I am so tired." 
 
 Rob did not begrudge me that. She closed her poor, 
 fear-tortured eyes, and sank at last into a blessed 
 sleep. Slowly then not to waken her, though I knew 
 that never on earth should I look into the depths of 
 her eyes again I unloosed the thin, sweet hand, the 
 dear, dear hand that clung to mine. 
 
 " I am making away to-morrow, Rob," I said. " It 
 is clear sailing for you now. You will delay your 
 going a day or two, but not longer. It is all arranged 
 about the boat that will take you over. Let Belcher 
 know for what day and tide you will need it, that is 
 all. So good-by, old man."
 
 ALL IN WHITE 389 
 
 " But, Jim," he said, following me to the door ; 
 " Jim." Except for my name, which he could speak, 
 his mouth made soundless motions like a stutterer's. 
 
 I laughed as I grasped his hand. Someone must 
 stand firm. " Wish me joy, old fellow. I'm off to sea 
 before you." 
 
 " But Jim " He put his arm around my neck. 
 
 I caught the sound of a sob that seemed to tear the 
 strong fellow's heart, and I tore myself from him and 
 dashed away to the River.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 POWER LOT, GOD HELP US 
 
 CUBY had not made too sanguine a promise; she was 
 a good sailor, indeed. So we cruised far, making a 
 strange port now and then, until at last we anchored 
 by the little fishing hamlet which we have known for 
 home ever since, and which we knew for home as soon 
 as ever we had entered it. 
 
 In certain storms, in certain great winds, the surf 
 knocks even at our door. If we are content with our 
 nest by the cliffs still, we know the way of the voy- 
 ager that reckons on no long abiding. It is his call- 
 ing, never forgotten of his soul the calling of the 
 voyager. Though he was content in his dwelling by the 
 shore, and cruised not far any more as once he did 
 but watched the tides and hauled his nets, and dwelt 
 at peace with children and wife, and all the souls about 
 him; still, ever the calling of the sea is upon him, and 
 them. 
 
 It is but nature, and nature is but God; and none 
 shall lose his way in the wildest night, clinging by 
 wreck or spar none shall lose his way. This is the 
 knowledge of the voyager. 
 
 It was five years after Cuby and I had sailed away 
 from Power Lot, God Help Us, and the River. It 
 happened strangely. Two miles farther down the shore 
 there is a little colony of " summer cottages " and a 
 
 390
 
 POWER LOT, GOD HELP US 391 
 
 fine inn for travelers, whose life is as remote from ours 
 as though we and they inhabited different continents. 
 
 It happened one day when I had delivered some fish, 
 by order, at the inn; and a waiter of finer manners 
 and clothes than any I had ever dreamed of wearing 
 had brought the money to me in the kitchen. I heard, 
 thrashing and slewing 'round to the porch, one of those 
 fiend carriages that fly over country without horses. 
 It was a very large and splendid contraption of its 
 kind, and in it sat Rob Hilton. 
 
 " Who is that? " I said sharply to the waiter in 
 broadcloth, not knowing what I said. 
 
 " Swell by the name of Hilton," he replied. " Him 
 and his wife came last night with their shofer. Big 
 swells. Engaged the most desirable rooms in the house 
 for three days. Touring the country. Fine people. 
 Grand style." 
 
 I made my way home. I said nothing to Cuby, who 
 slept as soundly as our boys even before the darkness 
 had well settled down. But when I thought that Rob 
 would have finished his dinner and might possibly go 
 strolling about the shore near the inn with his cigar, 
 I made my way over there again. I stood out of sight 
 in the lee of an old black hulk that had been wrecked 
 and thrown up there long ago, watching. 
 
 There were many people on the piazzas of the inn. 
 Rob was not among those people, nor Mary. 
 
 I waited, moistening my parched lips, and with 
 straining eyes as the shadows grew heavier; and, in 
 spite of hope, could hardly believe my senses when at 
 last a big figure, emerging from the door, loomed up 
 and sauntered slowly down along the shore toward
 
 392 POWER LOT 
 
 the old vessel's hulk. I saw the glowing spark of his 
 cigar drawing near and nearer. 
 
 " Rob," I said softly and gladly ; " hello, Rob ! " 
 
 The cigar fell from his lips, scattering its sparks 
 upon the beach. " Jim ! " he cried, and rushed toward 
 me. If he had thrown his arm around me condescend- 
 ingly, if he had reeled off glibly any words of aston- 
 ishment and delight at the meeting, I should have hated 
 him. But he was always Rob. 
 
 " Jim," said he of the child-heart, standing pale and 
 trembling with a visible joy before me; and this was 
 the way he spoke to me, the fisherman, putting me above 
 him, as it were, and not beneath, for the greatness of 
 his heart ; " Jim," he said, smiling the old smile in my 
 face, " I've never touched a drop." 
 
 I laughed. The breezes of the corn fields at Power 
 Lot, God Help Us, seemed to blow again in my face, 
 and there again Rob leaned on his hoe, in faded flannel 
 shirt, responding eagerly if any poor denizen of the 
 place paused to talk with him as a brother. I drew him 
 to one of the benches where the idle summer people sat 
 by day. The hour I was to have with him seemed like 
 an eternity of joy. 
 
 "Jim is it really you? We tried and tried to find 
 trace of you, Mary and I. We wanted to make you 
 rich. We are going to do it now. Why, it just belongs 
 to you, that's all ! " 
 
 " Ah no ! No ! I prefer to stand where I do, lad, 
 by the work of my own hands ; friendly, on the same 
 level and as well off in the world as you; for it is all 
 well with you ; you were born to it and know how 
 to carry it. But for me, I think a man may have too
 
 POWER LOT, GOD HELP US 393 
 
 much to carry, so that he cannot sail free, or fears to 
 sail at all. I was never one that wished to be much 
 hampered." 
 
 Rob's blue eyes caught fire in the night as he looked 
 into mine. 
 
 "Well, we are sailing free too Mary and I. You 
 thought the money would swallow us ! " he went on. 
 "We are not keeping it, Jim not using it for our- 
 selves. We've started colonies we're starting one 
 in this territory homes for people to work the land 
 and live as God meant people to live. We make their 
 homes easy to earn. And in the city " he plucked 
 me by the arm his words came fast " in the city, 
 Jim, we work there too for people. We work all the 
 time. You ought to see our tenements. Jim, we work 
 we work." 
 
 " Glory be to God !" I said, my arm on his shoulder. 
 The soul of the voyager was his. He had not settled 
 down in a prison of gold on a bed of down. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " I said, " we are voyagers still together." 
 
 " Did you think," he said, " I would go back to 
 any sty, after my view off Power Lot? It would be 
 but a sty, though with a dozen servants to order it. 
 It would be but a selfish sty ! " His eyes shone oh, but 
 he was a lusty voyager, ready for the storm, ready for 
 the next call he ! I thought we stood on the mountains 
 again together and it was he that had lifted me. 
 
 "But come," he said. "Mary will be wild to see 
 you." 
 
 "Wait," I answered him; "what matter? Let this 
 be our meeting, this between you and me; it is all 
 one. No, I won't go in ! Don't bother me with ques-
 
 394 POWER LOT 
 
 tions, lad. It is better so. Say nothing to her. We 
 have hailed and met and shall hail and meet again ; 
 but now the time is short. It is all one." 
 
 " Jim, we have one child, one little boy, at home. 
 His name is Jim." 
 
 " Honest? " 
 
 " He is James Turbine Hilton." 
 
 My rough hand was laid on his. The tears sprang 
 to my eyes. 
 
 " God bless you, Rob! " We thought alike. " One of 
 my three little fellows is named Robert Hilton Turbine." 
 
 " Heaven help him." Rob shed on me the peculiar, 
 familiar radiance of his smile. " Make him work for 
 a living, Jim." 
 
 " Aye." 
 
 We made no phrases. We talked as travelers, meet- 
 ing and parting, and the words grew tense and so 
 prescient of this near and last farewell that they bab- 
 bled over at last into pleasant dreamings, like those 
 that come frequently to ' cast to the winds the stilted 
 awe with which humanity surrounds the dying. 
 
 So I told him what I had picked up in chance voyages 
 of the people of Power Lot. " And little Rhody has 
 passed on," I said. " Bert, who hung off here for a 
 day or two in his schooner, told me. Queer, too ; she 
 seemed built for a long trip, didn't she? Sturdy as 
 a little oak." 
 
 " She and I made many a vow. We made many a 
 promise to each other," Rob said. 
 
 " Her father ran away to another woman," I went 
 on, " and Rhody got ill-treated not beaten, as I heard 
 but neglected and put upon worse than ever. They
 
 POWER LOT, GOD HELP US 395 
 
 took her into the ' church,' you know, and she had a 
 great notion of being faithful. She got kind of run 
 down and disconsolate with all that was put upon her; 
 and she took a hard cold that turned into a fever, and 
 she died. She was a stout little lass, stout in spirit as 
 well as body." 
 
 " Well," said Rob, " we raced each other to Pompey 
 Rock and home again, many and many a time. We 
 made more vpws to each other, she and I." 
 
 He laughed, but the tears stood in his eyes as he 
 spoke : 
 
 " One was, that if she went first, she'd get things 
 all cleared up for me over yonder establish a sort of 
 prestige of good-will for me, so to speak, and answer 
 my trembling knock at the gate. If I went first, I'd 
 do it for her if I was so lucky as to get in there. 
 That was the vow. Well, I shall keep my vow. Per- 
 haps children know the way, after all. Whoever passes 
 in at that dim gate before me, even though it might 
 be wife or child, I'll look for Rhody first. The rest 
 might wait. It should be Rhody first of all. Poor 
 little lass ! Dear little lass ! " 
 
 He had remembered Power Lot well. 
 
 He turned to me and smiled ; and on the sweet faces 
 of womankind and children I never saw so beautiful 
 a smile as was on Rob's face then. 
 
 "After all, it's only one brief strait at last," he 
 said ; " the same short strait for all." 
 
 " Aye, only just the Gut no more." 
 
 " One saw it all at Power Lot the dark little Gut 
 and the shining infinite each side. One saw so clearly 
 there. But I remember."
 
 96 POWER LOT 
 
 " Aye, lad, we remember. And may the tide set 
 strong and the wind breeze high when we make out 
 through that last strait into the open ! So we shall 
 hail each other there again, and never fear, my lad 
 
 " I'll have no fear, my brother Jim," said Rob. The 
 grasp of his hand on mine, I feel it still. And so I 
 turned and left him. 
 
 TH3 END
 
 K A T R IN A 
 
 BY 
 
 ROY ROLFE GILSON 
 
 Author of "In the Morning Glow " 
 
 With Illustrations in color by Alice Barber 
 Stephens. Crown, 8vo. $1.50 
 
 The subtlety and charm of Mr. Gilson's 
 stories reach their highest point in this 
 book. Larry, the newspaper man, hu- 
 morous, kindly, homely, lives over again 
 the romance of his younger days in the 
 little daughter of the woman he lost. 
 Upon this slightly suggested theme Mr. 
 Gilson builds one of his most charming 
 stories, full of the humor and the ten- 
 derness which mark all of his work. 
 The illustrations by Mrs. Stephens deserve 
 an especial word, for the extraordinary 
 sympathy with which they depict the 
 charm of Mr. Gilson's characters. 
 
 THE BAKER & TAYLOR CO. 
 
 33-37 East 17th Street, New York
 
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