he new portion."

"There!" Captain Elisha slapped his knee. "There, Jim!" he exclaimed,
"you hear that? Now you've _got_ to read it. Anchor's apeak! Heave ahead
and get under way."

So, because he could not well refuse, the author reluctantly began
to read. And, as usual, his nautical friend to interrupt and comment.
Caroline listened, her eyes twinkling. When the reading and the
arguments were at an end, she declared it was all splendid; "Just like
being at sea one's self," she said. "I positively refuse to permit
another installment to be submitted unless I am--on deck. That's the
proper phrase, isn't it, Captain?"

"Aye, aye, ma'am! Jim, we've shipped a new second mate, and she's goin'
to be wuth her salt. You hear _me_!"

She proved to be worth all of that, at least in Pearson's opinion. His
calls and the readings and discussions became more and more frequent.
Each of the trio enjoyed them greatly, Caroline quite as much as the
others. Here was something new and fresh, something to furnish a real
interest. The story advanced rapidly, the character of the nautical hero
shaped itself better and better, and the heroine, also, heretofore a
somewhat shadowy and vague young woman, began to live and breathe.
She changed surprisingly, not only in mental but in physical
characteristics.

Captain Elisha was first to notice the latter peculiarity.

"Say, Jim!" he interrupted, one afternoon, "what was that you just read
about Mary? Her hat blowin' off to leeward and her brown hair blowin'
after it? Or somethin' of that sort?"

Caroline laughed merrily. The author turned to the passage mentioned.

"Not exactly, Captain," he replied, smiling. "I said her hat had blown
away, and her brown curls tossed in the wind. What's wrong with that?
Hats do blow away in a sou'wester; I've seen them."

"Perhaps he thinks she should have been more careful in pinning it on,"
suggested the feminine member of the advisory board.

Captain Elisha shook his head. "No," he observed calmly, "but why was
she wearin' that kind of hair? She's pretty young to use a switch, ain't
she?"

"Switch?" repeated "Mary's" creator, with some indignation. "What are
you talking about? When I first described her, I said that her hair was
luxuriant and one of her chief beauties."

"That's a fact! So you did. What made her dye it?"

"Dye it? What do you think she is--a chorus girl?"

"If I remember right she's a postmaster's daughter. But why is she
wea