en you git to your moorin's?"

As his boarder took his lamp from the kitchen table, preparatory to
going to his room, Mr. Cahoon spoke again.

"George Kent was over there, wan't he?" he observed.

"Eh? Oh ... yes."

"Um-hm. I cal-lated he would be. This is his night--one of 'em. Comes
twice a week, Tuesdays and Fridays, they tell me, and then heaves in a
Sunday every little spell, for good measure. Gettin' to be kind of
settled thing between them two, so all hands are cal'latin'.... Hey?
Turnin' in already, be you, Cap'n? Well, good night."

Sears Kendrick found it hard to fall asleep that night. He tossed and
tumbled and thought and thought and thought. At intervals he cursed
himself for a fool and resolved to think no more, along those lines at
least, but to forget the foolishness and get the rest he needed. And
each time he was snatched back from the brink of that rest by a vision
of George Kent, tall, young, good-looking, vigorous, with all the world,
its opportunities and rewards, before him, and of himself almost on the
verge of middle age, a legless, worthless, hopeless piece of wreckage.
He liked Kent, George was a fine young fellow, he had fancied him when
they first met. Every one liked him and prophesied his success in life
and in the legal profession. Then why in heaven's name shouldn't he call
twice a week at the Fair Harbor if he wished to? He should, of course.
That was logic, but logic has so little to do with these matters, and,
having arrived at the logical conclusion, Captain Sears Kendrick found
himself still fiercely resenting that conclusion, envying young Kent his
youth and his hopes and his future, and as stubbornly rebellious against
destiny as at the beginning.

Nevertheless--and he swore it more than once before that wretched night
was over--no one but he should know of that envy and rebellion, least
of all the cause of it. From then on he would, he vowed, take especial
pains to be nice to George Kent and to help or befriend him in every
possible way.

CHAPTER VIII

It was Kent himself who put this vow to the test. He called at the Minot
place the very next evening. It was early, only seven o'clock; Judah,
having begged permission to serve an early supper because it was "lodge
night," had departed for Liberty Hall, where the local branch of the Odd
Fellows met; and Sears Kendrick was sitting on the settee in the back
yard, beneath the locust tree, smoking. Kent came swinging i