that he'll forget to stop and finish what he was saying here."

Which may or may not have been true, but the fact remains that the light
keeper did not entirely forget what he and the cashier said concerning
Martha Phipps' surprising bank deposit. And the next morning, as Martha
was walking up the lane from the village, where she had been on a
supply-purchasing excursion, she heard heavy footsteps and, turning,
saw her neighbor tramping toward her, his massive figure rolling, as it
always did when in motion, from side to side like a ship in a seaway.

"Why, hello, Jethro!" she exclaimed. Captain Jethro merely nodded. His
first remark was a question, and very much to the point.

"Look here, Martha," he demanded. "Have you sold that Development stock
of yours?"

Martha stared at him. For a moment she was inclined to believe in the
truth of the light keeper's "spirit revelations."

"Why--why, Jethro!" she gasped. The captain, gazing at her keenly
beneath his shaggy brows, seemed to find his answer in her face.

"Humph!" he observed. "You have sold it, ain't you? Well, by the
everlastin'!"

"Why--why, Jethro! What are you talkin' about?"

"About that two hundred and fifty shares of Wellmouth Development of
yours. You've sold it, ain't you, Martha? And you must have got par for
it, too. Did the Trumet Trust Company folks buy it?"

But Miss Phipps was recovering from her surprise. She waited a moment
before replying and, when she did reply, her tone was as crisp, if not
as domineering, as her interrogator's.

"See here, Jethro," she said; "you're takin' a good many things for
granted, aren't you?"

"No, I don't cal'late I am. I know you've sold somethin' and got five
thousand dollars for it. I see you deposit the five thousand, myself,
and Ed Thacher told me, after I pumped it out of him, that you said
you'd sold somethin' you owned and got a good price when you didn't know
as you'd ever get a cent. Now, you ain't sold your place because I'd
know if you had, and it ain't worth five thousand, anyway. The other
stocks and bonds you've got ain't--"

But Martha interrupted.

"Jethro," she said, sharply, "I just said that you were takin' a good
many things for granted. You are. One of 'em is that you can talk to
me as if I was Zach Bloomer or a fo'masthand on your old schooner. I'm
neither of those and I don't care to be talked to in that way. Another
is that what I chose to do with my property is your business. It