,
present and, more particularly, my future.

CHAPTER II

Which Repeats, for the Most Part, What Jim Campbell Said to Me and What
I Said to Him

"Jim," said I, "what is the matter with me?"

Jim, who was seated in the ancient and dilapidated arm-chair which
was the finest piece of furniture in the boathouse and which I always
offered to visitors, looked at me over the collar of my sweater. I used
the sweater as I did the arm-chair when I did not have visitors. He was
using it then because, like an idiot, he had come to Cape Cod in April
with nothing warmer than a very natty suit and a light overcoat. Of
course one may go clamming and fishing in a light overcoat, but--one
doesn't.

Jim looked at me over the collar of my sweater. Then he crossed
his oilskinned and rubber-booted legs--they were my oilskins and my
boots--and answered promptly.

"Indigestion," he said. "You ate nine of those biscuits this morning; I
saw you."

"I did not," I retorted, "because you saw them first. MY interior is in
its normal condition. As for yours--"

"Mine," he interrupted, filling his pipe from my tobacco pouch, "being
accustomed to a breakfast, not a gorge, is abnormal but satisfactory,
thank you--quite satisfactory."

"That," said I, "we will discuss later, when I have you out back of the
bar in my catboat. Judging from present indications there will be some
sea-running. The 'Hephzy' is a good, capable craft, but a bit cranky,
like the lady she is named for. I imagine she will roll."

He didn't like that. You see, I had sailed with him before and I
remembered.

"Ho-se-a," he drawled, "you have a vivid imagination. It is a pity you
don't use more of it in those stories of yours."

"Humph! I am obliged to use the most of it on the royalty statements you
send me. If you call me 'Hosea' again I will take the 'Hephzy' across
the Point Rip. The waves there are fifteen feet high at low tide. See
here, I asked you a serious question and I should like a serious answer.
Jim, what IS the matter with me? Have I written out or what is the
trouble?"

He looked at me again.

"Are you in earnest?" he asked.

"I am, very much in earnest."

"And you really want to talk shop after a breakfast like that and on a
morning like this?"

"I do."

"Was that why you asked me to come to Bayport and spend the week-end?"

"No-o. No, of course not."

"You're another; it was. When you met me at the railroad station
yesterday I could