before dinner time he sat
there, smoking his pipe, and speaking to no one unless spoken to. The
office force noticed his preoccupation and commented upon it.

"What ails the old man, Al?" whispered Issachar, peering in around the
corner of the door at the silent figure tilted back in the revolving
chair, its feet upon the corner of the desk. "Ain't said so much as
'Boo' for up'ards of twenty minutes, has he? I was in there just now
fillin' up his ink-stand and, by crimus, I let a great big gob of ink
come down ker-souse right in the middle of the nice, clean blottin'
paper in front of him. I held my breath, cal'latin' to catch what
Stephen Peter used to say he caught when he went fishin' Sundays. Stevey
said he generally caught cold when he went and always caught the Old
Harry when he got back. I cal'lated to catch the Old Harry part sure,
'cause Captain Lote is always neat and fussy 'bout his desk. But no, the
old man never said a word. I don't believe he knew the ink was spilled
at all. What's on his mind, Al; do you know?"

Albert did not know, so he asked Laban. Laban shook his head.

"Give it up, Al," he whispered. "Somethin's happened to bother him,
that's sartin'. When Cap'n Lote gets his feet propped up and his head
tilted back that way I can 'most generally cal'late he's doin' some real
thinkin'. Real thinkin'--yes, sir-ee--um-hm--yes--yes. When he h'ists
his boots up to the masthead that way it's safe to figger his brains
have got steam up. Um-hm--yes indeed."

"But what is he thinking about? And why is he so quiet?"

"I give up both riddles, Al. He's the only one's got the answers and
when he gets ready enough maybe he'll tell 'em. Until then it'll pay us
fo'mast hands to make believe we're busy, even if we ain't. Hear that,
do you, Is?"

"Hear what?" demanded Issachar, who was gazing out of the window, his
hands in his pockets.

"I say it will pay us--you and Al and me--to make believe we're workin'
even if we ain't."

"'Workin'!" indignantly. "By crimus, I AM workin'! I don't have to make
believe."

"That so? Well, then, I'd pick up that coal-hod and make believe
play for a spell. The fire's 'most out. Almost--um-hm--pretty
nigh--yes--yes."

Albert and his grandfather walked home to dinner together, as was their
custom, but still the captain remained silent. During dinner he spoke
not more than a dozen words and Albert several times caught Mrs. Snow
regarding her husband intently and with a ra