Part 29 (2/2)
”I'll fetch the Foam Flake around to the platform, Cap'n,” he said.
”You'll want to wait for 'Liz'beth, I presume likely, so take your time navigatin' them stairs. No, no, I'll walk. I won't get wet. _I_ knew what was comin'. Aye, aye, sir. I'll fetch the horse. Cal'late the critter has gnawed off and swallowed two fathoms of fence by this time.”
The Foam Flake and the buggy were made fast by the platform when Sears reached that point. It was raining hard. The greater part of the audience had already started on their homeward journey, but a few still lingered, some lamenting the absence of umbrellas and rubbers, others awaiting the arrival of messengers who had been sent home to procure those protections. The captain, of course, was awaiting Elizabeth, and she having to change costume and get rid of make-up, he knew his wait was likely to be rather lengthy. He did not mind that so much, but he did not desire to talk or be talked to, so he walked to the dark end of the platform--the same end, by the way, where George Kent had stood when pondering his problem before asking advice--and stood there, staring into the splashy blackness.
The last group left the lighted portals of the hall and started homeward, exclamations and little screams denoting spots where progress had been delayed by puddles or mud holes. Mrs. Eldridge, in the ticket office, packed up her takings, pennies and ”s.h.i.+n-plasters,” in a pasteboard box and departed for home. Mr. Tidditt accompanying her as guard and umbrella holder.
”I'll be back to lock up, Cap'n Sears,” called Asaph, rea.s.suringly.
”Stay right where you be. You won't be in my way at all.”
For some minutes longer Sears stood there alone on the platform, facing the dismal darkness and his own dismal thoughts. They were dismal, and no less so because his common-sense kept prodding him with the certainty that there was no more reason for discouragement now than there had been two hours before. The obvious offset to this was the equal certainty that there had been no more reason for optimism two hours before than at present. So he stared into the darkness, listened to the splas.h.i.+ng waterspouts, and, for the millionth time at least, eternally condemned the Old Colony railroad and his luck.
A springy, buoyant step came down the stairs. A voice called from the doorway:
”Cap'n Kendrick! Cap'n, are you there?”
Sears turned.
”Right here, George,” he said.
Kent hastened toward him. His hand was outstretched and his face was beaming.
”It worked,” he exclaimed, eagerly. ”It worked in great shape. Cap'n, you're a brick.”
His friend did not, momentarily, catch his meaning.
”Glad you think so, George,” he said; ”but why are you so sure of it just now?”
”Why, because if it hadn't been for you I should have, more than likely, not tried to chop the ice at all.”
”Chop the---- Oh, yes, yes; I remember. So you and Elizabeth have made up, eh?”
”Yes, I.... How on earth did you know she was the one? I didn't tell you, did I?”
”No. It's just another proof of my tremendous wisdom. Well, I'm glad, George.”
”I knew you would be. Mind you, I'm not sure yet I was wrong, but I---- Good Lord, look at the rain! I had no idea!... Well, at any rate, Elizabeth will be all right. She's going with you in the buggy.”
There was a slight, a very slight note of regret, almost of envy, in the young fellow's tone. The captain noticed it.
”No, she isn't, George,” he said, quietly.
”What! She isn't?”
”No, she's goin' with you. You take the horse and buggy and drive her up to the Harbor. Then you can send Judah back with it after me, if you will.”
”But, Cap'n, I wouldn't think of it. Why----”
”No need to think. Do it. Look here, George, you know perfectly well you haven't finished that ice-choppin' business. There are lots of things you want to tell her yet, I know. Come now, aren't there?”
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