but an old woodboat, an' not
much of a place fer receivin' the likes of you."

"But I think it's fine," the girl replied, "and I know you will let me
stay here for a while. You need a woman to look after this cabin, and
I will wash and cook for you."

"Ye will!"

"Certainly. If you will only let me stay, I think you will find me
quite useful."

"H'm, queer work you'd do in them dandy togs. An' besides, this craft
can't afford to keep up much style. I s'pose ye'd want clean linen on
the table every day, to say nuthin' of napkins, an' sich gear. No, I'm
afraid ye'd prove too expensive fer the 'Eb an' Flo.' I've been cook
here fer so long that I wouldn't know what to do with a woman around.
Martha tried it once, but a week was enough fer her, so she got out.
Said she couldn't stand me housekeepin' methods."

"Who is Martha?" the girl asked.

"Oh, she's me wife, an' runs things ashore. Her an' Flo do all right
thar, but me an' Eb feel more at home on the water, with no women
buttin' in."

"Is Flo your daughter?"

"Sure. An' Eb's me son. Jist the two, so I named this craft after
'em, ye see, Eb an' Flo sounds about right to my way of thinkin'. When
yer boatin' on this river ye have to be allus considerin' the ebb an'
flow of the tide, so the name is quite handy."

"It certainly is," and the girl smiled. "I am sure I shall like it.
Where is your son now?"

"Oh, he's ashore gittin' some molasses an' other stuff from the store.
He should be back soon, Miss, so I think ye'd better leave before he
comes. Thar might be trouble. He's dead set aginst strange women,
Eben is."

"Will you start as soon as your son returns?" the girl asked, unheeding
the captain's warning.

"Start! Start where?"

"Sailing, of course."

"Not until the wind springs up. Thar's a dead calm now, an' the tide's
aginst us."

"Oh, I wish it would blow a gale," and the girl looked anxiously
around. "I want to get away from this place as soon as possible."

"Well, I think the best thing then fer you to do is to go ashore an'
light out. Ye kin do it quicker thar than here."

"But I can't get ashore, Captain."

"Ye can't! An' why not, I'd like to know?"

"Because my boat has gone adrift. I let it go on purpose."

"Good Lord!" Samuel sat down upon a biscuit box and eyed his visitor
curiously. "Say, are you crazy, or a fool, or what are ye, anyway?" he
asked.

"I'm just a poor unfortunate girl, that's who I am," was