co-executor's for Lobelia Phillips, having been duly named
by Lobelia on her last visit to Bayport. So, presumably, both wills were
in Bradley's possession. But why had they not been probated?

Bradley himself made the explanation.

"The judge had a nephew in California," he said. "He was the nearest
relative--although that isn't very near. Of course he couldn't get on
for the funeral, but he is coming pretty soon. I thought I would wait
until he came before I opened the will. As for Mrs. Phillips' will, I
expect that her husband must be on his way here now. I haven't heard
from him, but I take it for granted he is coming. I shall wait a while
for him, too. There is no pressing hurry in either case."

So Bayport talked about the wills and the expected arrival of the heirs,
but as time passed and neither nephew nor husband arrived, began to lose
interest and to talk of other things. Sears Kendrick, remembering his
last conversation with Judge Knowles, was curious to learn exactly what
the latter meant by his hints concerning "fixing things" for the Fair
Harbor and Elizabeth having "money of her own," but he was busy and did
not allow his curiosity to interfere with his schemes and improvements.
He and Miss Berry saw each other every day, worked together and planned
together, and the captain's fits of despondency and discouragement grew
less and less frequent. He had an odd feeling at times, a feeling as if,
instead of growing older daily, he was growing younger. He mentioned it
to Elizabeth on one occasion and she did not laugh, but seemed to
understand.

"It is true," she said. "I have noticed it. You _are_ getting younger,
Cap'n Kendrick."

"Am I? That's good. Be better yet if I didn't have such a tremendous
long way to go."

"Nonsense! You aren't old. When I first met you I thought--it sounds
dreadful when I say it--I thought you were fifty, at least. Now I don't
believe you are more than--well, thirty-five."

"Oh, yes, I am. I am--humph!--let's see, I am--er--thirty-eight my next
birthday. And I suppose that sounds pretty ancient to you."

"No, indeed it doesn't. Why, thirty-eight isn't old at all!"

The interesting discussion of ages was interrupted just then, but Sears
found pleasure in the thought that she, too, had noticed that he looked
and acted younger. It was being at work again, he believed, which was
responsible for the rejuvenation; this and the now unmistakable fact
that, although the improvemen