would you?"

"No," with a laugh; "no, _I_ shouldn't, but my ideas of economy
are--well, different. They have to be. Are you ecomomizing, Captain?"

Captain Elisha laughed and rubbed his knee.

"No," he chuckled, "_I_ ain't, but my nephew and niece are. These are
their rooms."

"Oh, you're visiting?"

"No, I don't know's you'd call it visitin'. I don't know what you would
call it. I'm here, that's about all you can say."

He paused and remained silent. His friend was silent, also, not knowing
exactly what remark to make.

"How's the novel comin' on?" asked the captain, a minute later.

"Oh, slowly. I'm not at all sure it will ever be finished. I get
discouraged sometimes."

"No use in doin' that. What sort of a yarn is it goin' to be? Give me a
gen'ral idea of the course you're tryin' to steer. That is, if it ain't
a secret."

"It isn't. But there's mighty little worth telling. When I began I
thought I had a good scheme, but it seems pretty weak and dish-watery
now."

"Most things do while their bein' done, if you really care about doin'
'em well. Heave ahead! You said 'twas a sea yarn, and I'm a sort of
specialist when it comes to salt water. Maybe I might prescribe just the
right tonic, though 'tain't very likely."

Pearson began to outline the plot of his novel, speaking slowly at
first, but becoming more interested as he continued. Captain Elisha
listened meditatively, puffing solemnly at his cigar, and interrupting
but seldom.

"I think that's a pretty good idea," he observed, at length. "Yes,
sir, that sounds promisin', to me. This cap'n of yours now, he's a good
feller. Don't get him too good, though; that wouldn't be natural. And
don't get him too bad, neither. I know it's the fashion, judgin' by the
sea yarns I've read lately, to have a Yankee skipper sort of a cross
between a prize fighter and a murderer. Fust day out of port he begins
by pickin' out the most sickly fo'mast hand aboard, mashes him up, and
then takes the next invalid. I got a book about that kind of a skipper
out of our library down home a spell ago, and the librarian said 'twas
awful popular. A strong story, she said, and true to life. Well, 'twas
strong--you could pretty nigh smell it--but as for bein' true to life,
I had my doubts. I've been to sea, command of a vessel, for a good many
years, and sometimes I'd go weeks, whole weeks, without jumpin' up and
down on a single sailor. Fact! Got my exercise other ways, I presume