AND DUST

Captain Cy did not reply to the request for the box. It is doubtful if
he even heard it. Mrs. Oliver's astonishing letter had, as he afterwards
said, left him "high and dry with no tug in sight." Mary Thomas was
dead, and her daughter, her DAUGHTER! of whose very existence he had
been ignorant, had suddenly appeared from nowhere and been dropped at
his door, like an out-of-season May basket, accompanied by the modest
suggestion that he assume responsibility for her thereafter. No wonder
the captain wiped his forehead in utter bewilderment.

"Don't you think you'd better send for the box?" repeated the child,
shivering a little under the big coat.

"Hey? What say? Never mind, though. Just keep quiet for a spell, won't
you. I want to let this soak in. By the big dipper! Of all the solid
brass cheek that ever I run across, this beats the whole cargo! And
Betsy Howes never hinted! 'Probably you would be glad to take--' Be
GLAD! Why, blast their miserable, stingy--What do they take me for? I'LL
show 'em! Indiana ain't so fur that I can't--Hey? Did you say anything,
sis?"

The girl had shivered again. "No, sir," she replied. "It was my teeth, I
guess. They kind of rattled."

"What? You ain't cold, are you? With all that round you and in front of
that fire?"

"No, sir, I guess not. Only my back feels sort of funny, as if somebody
kept dropping icicles down it. Those bushes and vines were so wet that
when I tumbled down 'twas most like being in a pond."

"Sho! sho! That won't do. Can't have you laid up on my hands. That would
be worse than--Humph! Tut, tut! Somethin' ought to be done, and I'm
blessed if I know what. And not a woman round the place--not even that
Debby. Say, look here, what's your name--er--Emmie, hadn't I better get
the doctor?"

The child looked frightened.

"Why?" she cried, her big eyes opening. "I'm not sick, am I?"

"Sick? No, no! Course not, course not. What would you want to be sick
for? But you ought to get warm and dry right off, I s'pose, and your
duds are all up to the depot. Say, what does--what did your ma used to
do when you felt--er--them icicles and things?"

"She changed my clothes and rubbed me. And, if I was VERY wet she put me
to bed sometimes."

"Bed? Sure! why, yes, indeed. Bed's a good place to keep off icicles.
There's my bedroom right in there. You could turn in just as well
as not. Bunk ain't made yet, but I can shake it up in no time.
Say--er--er--you can