ached, told Jed he
might use his eighteen foot power dory for a day, the only cost
being that entailed by purchase of the necessary oil and gasoline.

It was a beautiful morning when they started on their six mile
sail, or "chug," as Jed called it. Mrs. Armstrong had put up a
lunch for them, and Jed had a bucket of clams, a kettle, a pail of
milk, some crackers, onions and salt pork, the ingredients of a
possible chowder.

"Little mite late for 'longshore chowder picnics, ma'am," he said,
"but it's a westerly wind and I cal'late 'twill be pretty balmy in
the lee of the pines. Soon's it gets any ways chilly we'll be
startin' home. Wish you were goin' along, too."

Mrs. Armstrong smiled and said she wished it had been possible for
her to go, but it was not. She looked pale that morning, so it
seemed to Jed, and when she smiled it was with an obvious effort.

"You're not going without locking your kitchen door, are you, Mr.
Jed?" she asked.

Jed looked at her and at the door.

"Why," he observed, "I ain't locked that door, have I! I locked
the front one, the one to the shop, though. Did you see the sign I
tacked on the outside of it?"

"No, I didn't."

"I didn't know but you might have. I put on it: 'Closed for the
day. Inquire at Abijah Thompson's.' You see," he added, his eye
twinkling ever so little, "'Bije Thompson lives in the last house
in the village, two mile or more over to the west'ard."

"He does! Then why in the world did you tell people to inquire
there?"

"Oh, if I didn't they'd be botherin' you, probably, and I didn't
want 'em doin' that. If they want me enough to travel way over to
'Bije's they'll come back here to-morrow, I shouldn't wonder. I
guess likely they'd have to; 'Bije don't know anything about me."

He rubbed his chin and then added:

"Maybe 'twould be a good notion to lock that kitchen door."

They were standing at the edge of the bluff. He sauntered over to
the kitchen, closed the door, and then, opening the window beside
it, reached in through that window and turned the key in the lock
of the door. Leaving the key in that lock and the window still
open, he came sauntering back again.

"There," he drawled, "I guess everything's safe enough now."

Mrs. Armstrong regarded him in amused wonder. "Do you usually lock
your door on the inside in that way?" she asked.

"Eh? . . . Oh, yes'm. If I locked it on the outside I'd have to
take the key with me, and I'm su