or just your fillum name?"

"My 'honest to goodness,'" the visitor confessed, bubbling with laughter.

"Land sakes! I should have to change mine all right. The kids at school
useter call me 'Dusty Gudgeon.' Course, my right name's Augusta; but
nobody ever remembers down here on the Cape to call anybody by such a
long name. Useter be a boy in our school who was named 'Christopher
Columbus George Washington Marquis de Lafayette Gallup.' His mother
named him that. But everybody called him 'Lafe'--after Lafayette, ye see.

"Land sakes! I should just have to change my name if I acted in the
pictures. Your complexion's real, too, ain't it?" pursued this waitress
with histrionic ambitions. "Real pretty, too, if 'tis high colored. I
expect you have to make up for the pictures, just the same."

"I suppose I should. I believe it is always necessary to accentuate the
lights and shadows for the camera."

"'Accentuate'--yep. That's a good word. I'll remember that," said
Gusty. "You goin' to stay down to The Beaches long---and will you like
it?"

"The Beaches?"

"That's where you'll work. At the Bozewell house. Swell bungalow. All
the big bugs live along The Beaches."

"I am not sure just how long I shall stay," confessed Louise Grayling;
"but I know I am going to like it."

CHAPTER II

CAP'N ABE

"I see by the _Globe_ paper," Cap'n Abe observed, pushing up from his
bewhiskered visage the silver-bowed spectacles he really did not need,
"that them fellers saved from the wreck of the _Gilbert Gaunt_ cal'late
they went through something of an adventure."

"And they did," rejoined Cap'n Joab Beecher, "if they seen ha'f what they
tell about."

"I dunno," the storekeeper went on reflectively, staring at a huge
fishfly booming against one of the dusty window panes. "I dunno. Cap'n
Am'zon was tellin' me once't about what he and two others went through
with after the _Posy Lass,_ out o' Bangor, was smashed up in a big blow
off Hat'ras. What them fellers in the _Globe_ paper tell about ain't a
patch on what Cap'n Am'zon suffered."

There was an uncertain, troubled movement among Cap'n Abe's hearers.
Even the fishfly stopped droning. Cap'n Beecher looked longingly through
the doorway from which the sea could be observed as well as a strip of
that natural breakwater called "The Neck," a barrier between the tumbling
Atlantic and the quiet bay around which the main village of Cardhaven was
set.

All