ted comment. "He
don't generally forget. He's a mighty likely youngster, that boy!"

"An' friendly too, ain't he?" put in Captain Benjamin. "There's
nothin' he wouldn't do for you."

"He's the nicest chap ever I see!" Captain Phineas echoed. "Don't you
think so, Zenas Henry?"

The answer was some time in coming, and when it did it was deliberate
and was weighted with telling impressiveness:

"There's few young fry can boast Bob Morton's common sense," he said.
"His headpiece is on frontside-to, an' the brains inside it are tickin'
strong an' steady."

Abbie failed to join in the laugh that followed this announcement.
Either she did not catch the remark, or she was too deeply engrossed
with her own thoughts to heed it. Her eyes were fixed wistfully on the
two figures that were approaching,--the girl exquisite with youth and
happiness and the man who leaned protectingly over her. Yet whatever
the reveries that clouded her pensive face, she kept them to herself,
and if a shadow of dread mingled with her scrutiny no one noticed it.

Perhaps it was only Willie Spence who actually guessed the great
secret,--Willie, who having been starved for romance of his own, was
all the quicker to hear the heart-throbs of others. It chanced that
just now he was deeply involved in several amorous affairs and because
of them was experiencing no small degree of worry. The tangle between
Bob, Delight, and Cynthia Galbraith kept him in a state of constant
speculation and disquietude; then Bart Coffin and Minnie were
perilously near a rupture because of another rejuvenation of the
time-honored black satin; and although weeks had passed, Jack Nickerson
had not yet mustered up nerve enough to offer his heart and hand to
Sarah Libbie Lewis.

"Next you know, both you an' Sarah Libbie will be under the sod,"
Willie had tauntingly called after the lagging swain, as he passed the
house one afternoon on his way from the village. "What on earth you're
waitin' for is mor'n I can see."

The discomfited coast guard hung his head sheepishly.

"It's all right for you to talk, Willie Spence," he replied over his
shoulder. "You ain't got the speakin' to do. It's I that's got to ask
her."

Then as he sped out of sight, he added as an afterthought:

"By the way, Bart an' Minnie Coffin have come to a split at last over
that 'ere dress. After gettin' it fixed, an' promisin' him 'twas fur
the last time, she's ripped it all up again 'cause