h the fact
that Peters and the minister were calling upon Melissa together
could mean but one thing. Hours and years of the captain's life
seemed to pass, as he watched the two men go slowly up Melissa's
gravel walk. When the door closed behind them, he turned about,
dazed and trembling. He was breathing hard like a man at the end of
a race. Half an hour later he had packed his bag and paid his board
bill, leaving Mrs. Crowell in a state of bewilderment and curiosity
that was sufficient to disturb her peace of mind for many a day.

From Boston the tramp had wallowed her way around the Horn to San
Francisco and back again as far as Rio Janiero when Captain Enoch
received his first mail from home. A travel-stained letter, bearing
Abner Crowell's cramped handwriting, threw the captain into a sudden
panic.

"I don't know whether to open it, or not," he debated nervously.
"I want to know what's in it, an' I'm scared to find out. I'm a good
mind to throw it overboard and forget I ever got it."

Curiosity finally overcame his dread. The letter was encouragingly
brief.

"'Dere Enoch,'" he read. "'I'd like to know what you blowed up an'
went off the way you did for. Abner Crowell." "P.S. Mrs. Crowell
sends her respecks, and Miss Melissa Macy her regards, if you want
'em. A.C." "P.S. Number two. All you need, Enoch Burgess, is about
ten inches more on your ears. A.C.'"

"'Miss Melissa Macy,'" repeated Captain Enoch. "He would have said
Mrs. Peters, if she was married."

The captain leaped to his feet and rushed on deck. A boat was just
leaving the steamer's side, the mate sitting placidly under an awning.

"Hey, wait," roared the captain wildly. "I'm goin' to git our
clearance papers," he shouted, as the astonished mate ordered the
boat back. "I ain't goin' to hang around here waitin' for a lazy
planter to git a cargo of coffee aboard. I don't care if there ain't
any more coffee in the world; folks can drink tea. I'm goin' home as
quick as steam can take me."

Lights were beginning to shine in the homes of Mapleville when the
captain came to the end of his long journey. A shining path
stretched temptingly from Melissa's windows to the gate and the
captain followed it eagerly.

Back of the crimson geraniums and the canary's cage he could see
Melissa sitting at a low table. The yellow cat occupied the big
rocker. It was all so pleasant and home-like a lump rose in the
captain's throat. He decided to steal quietly in an