born gumps not so far from here as her house,"
interjected Phinney. "You remember that next time you look in the glass,
Ed Crocker. And--and--well, there's no better friend of Sol Berry's on
earth than I am, but, so fur as their quarrel was concerned, if you ask
me I'd have to say Olive was pretty nigh right."

"Maybe--maybe," declared the allwise Cornelius, "but just the same if I
was Sol Berry, and knew my old girl was likely to go to the poorhouse,
I'll bet my conscience--"

"S-ssh!" hissed Crocker, frantically. Cornelius stopped in the middle
of his sentence, whirled in his chair, and looked up. Behind him in the
doorway of the station stood Captain Sol himself. The blue cap he always
wore was set back on his head, a cigar tipped upward from the corner
of his mouth, and there was a grim look in his eye and about the smooth
shaven lips above the short, grayish-brown beard.

"Issy" sprang from his settee and jammed the paper novel into his
pocket. Ed Crocker's sunburned face turned redder yet. Sim Phinney
grinned at Mr. Rowe, who was very much embarrassed.

"Er--er--evenin', Cap'n Sol," he stammered. "Nice, seasonable weather,
ain't it? Been a nice day."

"Um," grunted the depot master, knocking the ashes from his cigar.

"Just right for workin' outdoor," continued Cornelius.

"I guess it must be. I saw your wife rakin' the yard this mornin'."

Phinney doubled up with a chuckle. Mr. Rowe swallowed hard. "I--I TOLD
her I'd rake it myself soon's I got time," he sputtered.

"Um. Well, I s'pose she realized your time was precious. Evenin', Sim,
glad to see you."

He held out his hand and Phinney grasped it.

"Issy," said Captain Sol, "you'd better get busy with the broom, hadn't
you. It's standin' over in that corner and I wouldn't wonder if it
needed exercise. Sim, the train ain't due for twenty minutes yet. That
gives us at least three quarters of an hour afore it gets here. Come
outside a spell. I want to talk to you."

He led the way to the platform, around the corner of the station, and
seated himself on the baggage truck. That side of the building, being
furthest from the street, was out of view from the post office and
"general store."

"What was it you wanted to talk about, Sol?" asked Simeon, sitting down
beside his friend on the truck.

The Captain smoked in silence for a moment. Then he asked a question in
return.

"Sim," he said, "have you heard anything about Williams buying the
Smalley ho