elt she must turn out the blaze
or ruin all. Covering the pan to keep its contents hot as long as might
be, she sat down on the threshold to wait; and, presently, was asleep.

It had grown quite dark before the touch of a cold wet nose upon the
palm of her hand aroused her, and there was Bo'sn, rubbing his side
against her knee and uttering a dismal sort of sound that was neither
bark nor howl, but a cross between both and full of painful meaning.

"Bo'sn! You? Then grandpa--oh, grandpa, darlin', darlin', why didn't you
wake me? I've got the nicest supper----Smell?"

With that she sprang up and darted within, over the few feet of space
there was, but nobody was in sight; then out again, to call the captain
from some spot where he had doubtless paused to exchange a bit of
neighborly gossip. To him the night was the same as the day, the child
remembered, and though it wasn't often he overstayed his regular hour,
or forgot his meal-time, he might have done so now. Oh, yes, he might
easily have done so, she assured herself. But why should Bo'sn forsake
his master and come home alone? He had never done that before, never.
And why, oh, why, did he make that strange wailing noise? He frightened
her and must stop it.

"Quiet, boy, quiet!" she ordered, clasping the animal's head so that he
was forced to look up into her face. "Quiet, and tell me--where is
grandpa? Where did you leave grandpa?"

Of course, he could not answer, save by ceasing to whine and by gazing
at her with his loving brown eyes as if they must tell for him that
which he had seen.

Then, seized by an overwhelming anxiety, which she would not permit
herself to put into a definite fear, she shook the dog impatiently and
started down the Lane. It was full of shadows now, which the one gas
street lamp deepened rather than dispersed, and she did not see a woman
approaching until she had run against her. Then she looked up and
exclaimed, "Oh, Posy Jane! You just gettin' home? Have you seen my
grandpa?"

"The cap'n? Bless you, child, how should I, seein' he don't sing on the
bridge. Ain't he come in yet?"

"No, and oh, Jane, dear Jane, I'm afraid somethin' 's happened to him.
He never, never stayed away so late before an' Bo'sn came alone. What
s'pose?"

The flower-seller had slipped an arm about the child's shoulders and
felt them trembling, and though an instant alarm had filled her own
heart, she made light of the matter to give her favorite comfort.