Part 23 (2/2)

”I don't know. And what I don't know a whole lot more is how I'm goin'

to be paid fifteen hundred a year. Where's that comin' from; can you tell me?”

From the bed--the invalid was in bed most of the time now--came a characteristic chuckle. ”He, he, he,” laughed the judge. ”So you've got on far enough to wonder about that, eh?”

”I certainly have. And I want to say right here that----”

”Hold on! Hold on, Kendrick! Don't be a fool. And don't make the mistake of thinkin' I'm one, either. I may have let you guess that the Fair Harbor was to pay your salary. It isn't because it can't. _I'm_ paying it and I'm going to pay it--while I'm alive and after I'm dead.

You're my subst.i.tute and so long as you keep that job you'll get your pay. It's all arranged for, so don't argue.”

”But, Judge, why----”

”Shut up. I want to do it and I can afford to do it. Let a dead man have a little fun, can't you. You'll earn your money, I tell you. And when that Egbert comes I'll get the worth of mine--dead or alive, I'll get it. Now go home and let me alone, I'm tired.”

But Sears still hesitated.

”That's all right, Judge,” he said. ”You've got the right to spend your own money, I presume likely, so I won't say a word; although I may have my own opinion as to your judgment in spendin' it. But there's one more thing I can't quite get over. Here am I, about third mate's helper aboard that Harbor craft, bein' paid fifteen hundred a year, and that girl--as fine, capable, sensible--er--er--nice girl as ever lived, I do believe--workin' her head off and runnin' the whole s.h.i.+p, as you might say, and bein' paid nothin' at all. It isn't right. It isn't square. I won't stand it. I'll heave up my commission and you pay her the fifteen hundred. _She_ earns it.”

Silence. Then another slow chuckle from the bed.

”Humph!” grunted Judge Knowles. ”'Fine, capable, sensible, nice--'

Getting pretty enthusiastic, aren't you, Kendrick? He, he, he!”

Taken by surprise, and suddenly aware that he had spoken very emphatically, the captain blushed, and felt, himself a fool for so doing.

”Why--I--I--” he stammered, then laughed, and declared stoutly, ”I don't care if I am. That girl deserves all the praise anybody's got aboard.

She's a wonder, that's what she is. And she isn't bein' treated right.”

The answer was of a kind quite unexpected.

”Well,” rasped the judge, ”who said she was?”

”Eh? What----”

”Who said she was? Not I. Don't you suppose I know what Elizabeth Berry is worth to Lobelia Seymour's idiot shop over yonder? And what she gets--or doesn't get? And didn't I tell you that her father was my best friend? Then.... Oh, well! Kendrick, you go back to your job. And don't you fret about that girl. What she doesn't get now she.... Humph! Clear out, and don't worry me any more. Good night.”

So the captain departed. In a way his mind was more at rest. He was nearer to being reconciled to the fifteen hundred a year now that he knew it was not to come from the funds of the Fair Harbor. Judge Knowles was reputed to be rich. If he chose to pay a salary to gratify a whim--why, let him. He, Kendrick, would do his best to earn that salary.

But, nevertheless, he did not intend to let Elizabeth Berry remain under any misapprehension as to where the salary was coming from. He would tell her the next time they met. A new thought occurred to him. Why not tell her then--that very evening? It was not late, only about nine o'clock.

”Judah,” he said, ”I've got to run in to the Harbor a minute. Drive me around to the side door, will you? And then wait there for me, that's a good fellow.”

So, leaving the Foam Flake and its pilot to doze comfortably in the soft silence of the summer evening, Sears--after Judah had, as was his custom, lifted him down from the wagon seat and handed him his cane--plodded to the side door of the Harbor and knocked. Mrs. Brackett answered the knock.

”Why, how d'ye do, Cap'n Kendrick?” she said, graciously. ”Come right in. We wasn't expectin' you. You don't very often call evenin's. Come right in. I guess you know everybody here.”

He did, of course, for the group in the back sitting room was made up of the regular guests. He shook hands with them all, including Miss Snowden, who greeted him with queenly condescension, and little Mrs.

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