n't be profane."

"Profane! Pup-pup-profane! You set there and--and--Oh, jumpin', creepin'
Judas! I--I--" Language--even his language--failed to express his
feelings and he waved his fists and sputtered. Baxter seized the
opportunity.

"Before you make your decision, gentlemen," he said, "I hope you will
consider the situation carefully. The girl is only seven years old; she
has no relations anywhere, so far as we know. If you decline the trust
a guardian will have to be appointed by the courts, I suppose. Who that
guardian will be, or what will become of the poor child I'm sure I don't
know. And Captain Marcellus was perfectly sane; he knew what he was
doing."

Shadrach interrupted.

"He did!" he shouted. "Well, then, I must say--"

"Just a minute, please, I have a letter here which he wrote at the time
he made his will. It is addressed to both of you. Here it is. Shall I
read it to you, or had you rather read it yourselves?"

Zoeth answered. "I guess maybe you'd better read it, Judge," he said. "I
don't cal'late Shadrach nor me are capable of readin' much of anything
just this minute. You read it. Shadrach, you be still now and listen."

The Captain opened his mouth and raised a hand. "Be still, Shadrach,"
repeated Zoeth. The hand fell. Captain Gould sighed.

"All right, Zoeth," he said. "I'll keep my batch closed long's I can.
Heave ahead, Judge."

The letter was a long one, covering several sheets of foolscap. It
began:

To Shadrach, Gould and Zoeth Hamilton, my old partners and friends.

DEAR SHAD AND ZOETH:

I am writing this to you because I have known you pretty much all my
life and you are the only real friends I have got in this world.

"I was his friend, or I tried to be," commented Baxter, interrupting
his reading; "but he considered you two, and always spoke of you, as his
oldest and nearest friends. He has often told me that he knew he could
depend on you. Now listen."

The letter went on to state that the writer realized his health was
no longer good, that he was likely to die at any time and was quite
reconciled.

I should be glad to go [Captain Hall had written], if it was not for one
thing. Since my wife was took from me I care precious little for life
and the sooner it ends the better. That is the way I look at it. But I
have a stepdaughter, Mary Augusta Lathrop, and for her sake I must stick
to the ship as long as I can. I have not been the right kind of father
to her. I h