ther anxious look. She did
not question him, however, but Rachel was not so reticent.

"Mercy on us, Cap'n Lote," she demanded, "what IS the matter? You're as
dumb as a mouthful of mush. I don't believe you've said ay, yes or no
since we sat down to table. Are you sick?"

Her employer's calm was unruffled.

"No-o," he answered, with deliberation.

"That's a comfort. What's the matter, then; don't you WANT to talk?"

"No-o."

"Oh," with a toss of the head, "well, I'm glad I know. I was beginnin'
to be afraid you'd forgotten how."

The captain helped himself to another fried "tinker" mackerel.

"No danger of that around here, Rachel," he said serenely. "So long as
my hearin's good I couldn't forget--not in this house."

Olive detained her grandson as he was following Captain Zelotes from the
dining room.

"What's wrong with him, Albert?" she whispered. "Do you know?"

"No, I don't, Grandmother. Do you think there is anything wrong?"

"I know there's somethin' troublin' him. I've lived with him too many
years not to know the signs. Oh, Albert--you haven't done anything to
displease him, have you?"

"No, indeed, Grandmother. Whatever it is, it isn't that."

When they reached the office, the captain spoke to Mr. Keeler.

"Had your dinner, Labe?" he asked.

"Yes--yes, indeed. Don't take me long to eat--not at my boardin' house.
A feller'd have to have paralysis to make eatin' one of Lindy Dadgett's
meals take more'n a half hour. Um-hm--yes."

Despite his preoccupation, Captain Zelotes could not help smiling.

"To make it take an hour he'd have to be ossified, wouldn't he, like the
feller in the circus sideshow?" he observed.

Laban nodded. "That--or dead," he replied. "Yes--just about--just so,
Cap'n."

"Where's Issachar?"

"He's eatin' yet, I cal'late. He don't board at Lindy's."

"When he gets back set him to pilin' that new carload of spruce under
Number Three shed. Keep him at it."

"Yes, sir. Um-hm. All right."

Captain Zelotes turned to his grandson. "Come in here, Al," he said. "I
want to see you for a few minutes."

Albert followed him into the inner office. He wondered what in the world
his grandfather wished to see him about, in this very private fashion.

"Sit down, Al," said the captain, taking his own chair and pointing to
another. "Oh, wait a minute, though! Maybe you'd better shut that hatch
first."

The "hatch" was the transom over the door between the offices. Albert,
rememb