erviewing Miss Snowden, however, she was greatly
surprised and said so. "You want to speak with Elvira, Cap'n Kendrick?"
she repeated. "You do, really? Do you--of course I am not interfering,
please don't think I am--but do you think it a--a wise thing to do, just
now?"

The captain nodded. "Why, yes, I do," he said. "Oh, it's all right, Miss
Elizabeth, I'm not goin' to start any rows. You wouldn't think it to
look at me, probably, but I've got an idea in my head and I'm goin' to
try it out on this Elvira."

It was some time before he was able to catch Miss Snowden alone, but at
last he did and, as it happened, in that same summer-house, the Eyrie,
where he had first seen her. The interview began, on her part, as
frostily as a February morning in Greenland, but ended like a balmy
evening in Florida. The day following he laid his plans to meet and
speak with Mrs. Brackett and the militant Susanna thereafter became as
peaceful, so far as he was concerned, as a dovecote in spring. Elizabeth
Berry, noticing these changes, and surmising their cause, regarded him
with something like awe.

"Really, Cap'n Kendrick," she said, "I'm beginning to be a little afraid
of you. When you first spoke of interviewing Elvira Snowden alone
I--well, I was strongly tempted to send for the constable. I didn't know
what might happen. She was saying--so Esther Tidditt told me--the most
dreadful things about you and I was frightened for your safety. And Mrs.
Brackett was just as savage. And now--why, Elvira this very morning told
me, herself, that she considered your taking the management here a
blessing. I believe she did call it a blessing in disguise, but that
doesn't make any real difference. And Susanna--three days ago--was
calling upon all our--guests here to threaten to leave in a body, as a
protest against the giving over of the management of their own Harbor to
a--excuse me--man like you. I don't know she meant by that, but it is
what she said. And now----"

"Just a minute, Miss Elizabeth. Called me a man, did she? Well, comin'
from her that's a compliment, in a way. She ought to know she's the
nearest thing, herself, to a man that I've about ever seen in skirts.
But that's nothin'. What interests me is that idea of all the crew
aboard here threatenin' to leave. They could, I suppose, if they wanted
to same as anybody aboard a ship could jump overboard. But in both cases
the question would be the same, wouldn't it? Where would they g