he dumped out a pipe full of good tobacco.
"Why, what could I do?"

"Does any one take care of her? Has she any friends?" inquired Helen
kindly.

"Too many. That's just the trouble," and he filled his pipe with new
tobacco. "You know that nobody's business is everybody's business, and
that's what's the matter with poor little Kitty."

The girls did not quite understand the description, but the captain
seemed troubled, so they hesitated about pressing more pointed
questions.

"She is not half as wild as she seems," said Julia after a time. "We had
quite a jolly little chat with her one day."

"You did now? That's fine!" he answered heartily. "I wish you could see
her once in a while. She needs the right sort of friends. What's a girl
to do when every other girl in the village shuns her?"

"We would all be very glad to talk to her and make real friends with
her," insisted Helen.

"I'm sure you would, for you're girls brought up to be kind and
friendly," said Captain Dave. "I've heard how you befriended old Peter."

"Oh, that wasn't anything," Julia interrupted. "We only took him in from
the storm."

"Queer thing none of our firemen happened to see him! And old Pete out
there fishin'! Why, he was so stunned, Kitty told me next day he
couldn't move," said Captain Dave.

"We thought we would have lots wilder experiences down here than just
driving nice old men home, Captain," complained Grace.

"Aren't you ever going to let us try your breeches buoy?"

"Try it? What would you do with a breeches buoy?" he asked.

"Have a lovely ride in it, wouldn't we?" said Grace.

"I hope not," replied the captain seriously. "That's not a thing to play
with."

"And Kitty is the little girl you told us about? She whom you took from
the wreck of the Alameda?" asked Louise.

"Yes, she is Kitty Schulkill, but they've nicknamed her Kitty Scuttle,
'count of the way she scuttles about so. But I thought when she was
taken over to the Point she might quiet down some, but Kitty is Kitty
just the same," he concluded rather gloomily.

"Has she any relatives?" inquired Julia.

"Claims to be, one woman there, a high falootin dame, claims to be her
guardeen," he said, using the quaint old way of pronouncing the last
word. "But I'm not sure. Don't know as I just like her any too--well."
And again the pipe suffered from suppressed emotion.

They were making some progress--all the girls felt keenly interested,
and even a little bit