But the court's action, expected though it was, made the captain very
blue and downcast. He could see no hope. He felt certain that he should
lose the little girl in the end, in spite of the long succession of
appeals which his lawyer contemplated. And what would become of her
then? What sort of training would she be likely to have? Who would her
associates be, under the authority of a father such as hers? And what
would he do, alone in the old house, when she had gone for good? He
could not bear to think of it, and yet he thought of little else.

The evenings, after Bos'n had gone to bed, were the worst. During the
day he tried his best to be busy at something or other. The doll
house was finished, and he had begun to fashion a full-rigged ship in
miniature. In reality Emily, being a normal little girl, was not greatly
interested in ships, but, because Uncle Cy was making it, she pretended
to be vastly concerned about this one. On Saturdays and after school
hours she sat on a box in the wood shed, where the captain had put up
a small stove, and watched him work. The taboo which so many of our
righteous and Atkins-worshiping townspeople had put upon the Whittaker
place and its occupants included her, and a number of children had
been forbidden to play with her. This, however, did not prevent their
tormenting her about her father and her disreputable guardian.

But the captain's evenings were miserable. He no longer went to
Simmons's. He didn't care for the crowd there, and knew they were all
"down" on him. Josiah Dimick called occasionally, and the Board of
Strategy often, but their conversation was rather tiresome. There were
times when Captain Cy hated Bayport, the house he had "fixed up" with
such interest and pride, and the old sitting room in particular. The
mental picture of comfort and contentment which had been his dream
through so many years of struggle and wandering, looked farther off than
ever. Sometimes he was tempted to run away, taking Bos'n with him. But
the captain had never run away from a fight yet; he had never abandoned
a ship while there was a chance of keeping her afloat. And, besides,
there was another reason.

Phoebe Dawes had come to be his chief reliance. He saw a great deal of
her. Often when she walked home from school, she found him hanging over
the front gate, and they talked of various things--of Bos'n's progress
with her studies, of the school work, and similar topics. He called her