night, all hands."

All the way back across the fields and through the grove the Captain was
silent. Mary-'Gusta clinging to his hand was silent too, dreading what
she knew was sure to follow. When they entered the kitchen Shadrach
turned to her:

"Well, Mary-'Gusta," he said, "I'm glad your cat's turned out to be no
chicken thief, but--but that don't alter what you did, does it?"

"No, sir," stammered the girl.

"No, I'm afraid it don't. I told you what would happen if you went into
that parlor, and you went just the same. I cal'late you know what to
expect, don't you?"

"Ye-yes, sir," in a low tone. "You mean I can't go to the Sunday school
picnic."

Shadrach cleared his throat. He was not enjoying this episode, as a
matter of fact his unhappiness was almost as keen as the child's. But as
a boy he had been reared in the old-fashioned way, and he felt that he
had a duty to perform.

"I'm afraid that's what I mean," he said, gravely. "Now set down and
have your supper."

Mary-'Gusta tried hard to be brave, but the disappointment was too
great. The tears streamed down her cheeks and she ran from the room.
Shadrach strode after her.

"Here!" he called. "Mary-'Gusta, where are you goin'? Come back and have
your supper."

But Mary-'Gusta did not come back. She was already on the stairs.

"I--I don't want any supper," she sobbed. "Please, oh, PLEASE don't make
me eat it."

The Captain hesitated, turned back, and jerked his own chair to the
table.

"Well," he demanded brusquely, "the supper's here and somebody's got to
eat it, I cal'late. Fetch it on, Isaiah! What are you starin' at me like
that for, you dumbhead?"

Isaiah brought in the supper. Then he demanded to know what the fuss was
all about. Shadrach told him. Isaiah's chief interest seemed to center
on the attempted shooting.

"Why the son of a swab!" he cried, excitedly. "Of all the cheek I ever
heard of in my life that Abner Bacheldor's got the heft! To borrer a
man's own gun--yes, and cartridges, too--to kill that man's own cat
with! Of all the solid brass! He never told me 'twas our cat. All he
wanted to know was could he borrer your gun and somethin' to load it
with. If I'd known--"

His employer interrupted him. "WHAT?" he roared. "Do you mean to say
that Ab Bacheldor came here and borrowed MY gun to--to do what he done
with?"

"Sartin sure he did. And only this very afternoon, too."

"And did he know whose cat 'twas?"

"He said he d