hink. I
don't know WHAT to do."

The minister declined to wait for breakfast. He said he was not hungry.
Leaving Ebenezer to put on the coffeepot and take up his duties as day
nurse, Ellery walked off along the beach. The "dead line" prevented his
going very far, but he sat down in the lee of a high dune and thought
until his head ached. What should he do? What was best for him to do?

He heard the rattle of the doctor's chaise and the voices of Ebenezer
and Parker in conversation. He did not move, but remained where he was,
thinking, thinking. By and by he heard Capen calling his name.

"Mr. Ellery!" shouted Ebenezer. "Mr. Ellery, where be you?"

"Here!" replied the minister.

The old man came scrambling over the sand. He was panting and much
excited.

"Mr. Ellery!" he cried, "Mr. Ellery! it's settled for us--one part of
it, anyhow. He's slipped his cable."

"What?" The minister sprang up.

"Yup. He must have died just a little while after you left and after I
gave him his medicine. I thought he looked kind of queer then. And when
the doctor came we went in together and he was dead. Yes, sir, dead."

"Dead!"

"Um--hm. No doubt of it; it's for good this time. Mr. Ellery, what shall
we do? Shall I tell Dr. Parker?"

Ellery considered for a moment. "No," he said slowly. "No, Capen, don't
tell anyone. I can't see why they need ever know that he hasn't been
dead for years, as they supposed. Promise me to keep it a secret. I'll
tell--her--myself, later on. Now promise me; I trust you."

"Land sakes, yes! I'll promise, if you want me to. I'm a widower man, so
there'll be nobody to coax it out of me. I guess you're right, cal'late
you be. What folks don't know they can't lie about, can they? and that's
good for your business--meanin' nothin' disreverent. I'll promise, Mr.
Ellery; I'll swear to it. Now come on back to the shanty. The doctor
wants you."

The next day the body of "Murphy," foremast hand on the San Jose, was
buried in the corner of the Regular graveyard, near those who were
drowned in the wreck of that winter. There was no funeral, of course.
The minister said a prayer at the shanty, and that was all. Ebenezer
drove the wagon which was used as hearse for the occasion, and filled in
the grave himself. So great was the fear of the terrible smallpox that
the sexton would not perform even that service for its victim.

Capen remained at the shanty another week. Then, as the minister showed
no symptoms