He pulled off the coat, threw it over
a pile of boards and sat down.

"Whew!" he exclaimed. "It's blowing hard enough to start the bark
on a log."

Jed looked up.

"Did you say log or dog?" he asked, solemnly.

The captain grinned. "I said log," he answered. "This gale of
wind would blow a dog away, bark and all. Whew! I'm all out of
breath. It's some consider'ble of a drive over from Wapatomac.
Comin' across that stretch of marsh road by West Ostable I didn't
know but the little flivver would turn herself into a flyin'-
machine and go up."

Jed stopped in the middle of the first note of a hymn.

"What in the world sent you autoin' way over to Wapatomac and back
this day?" he asked.

His friend bit the end from a cigar. "Oh, diggin' up the root of
all evil," he said. "I had to collect a note that was due over
there."

"Humph! I don't know much about such things, but I never
mistrusted 'twas necessary for you to go cruisin' like that to
collect notes. Seems consider'ble like sendin' the skipper up town
to buy onions for the cook. Couldn't the--the feller that owed the
money send you a check?"

Captain Sam chuckled. "He could, I cal'late, but he wouldn't," he
observed. "'Twas old Sylvester Sage, up to South Wapatomac, the
'cranberry king' they call him up there. He owns cranberry bogs
from one end of the Cape to the other. You've heard of him, of
course."

Jed rubbed his chin. "Maybe so," he drawled, "but if I have I've
forgot him. The only sage I recollect is the sage tea Mother used
to make me take when I had a cold sometimes. I COULDN'T forget
that."

"Well, everybody but you has heard of old Sylvester. He's the
biggest crank on earth."

"Hum-m. Seems 's if he and I ought to know each other. . . . But
maybe he's a different kind of crank; eh?"

"He's all kinds. One of his notions is that he won't pay bills by
check, if he can possibly help it. He'll travel fifty miles to pay
money for a thing sooner than send a check for it. He had this
note--fourteen hundred dollars 'twas--comin' due at our bank to-day
and he'd sent word if we wanted the cash we must send for it 'cause
his lumbago was too bad for him to travel. I wanted to see him
anyhow, about a little matter of a political appointment up his
way, so I decided to take the car and go myself. Well, I've just
got back and I had a windy v'yage, too. And cold, don't talk!"

"Um . . . yes. . . . Get your money, did you?"