ighted to meet Captain Kendrick," he said.

The captain's stammered answer was conventional, and was not a literal
expression of his thought. The latter, put into words, would have been:

"Egbert! I might have known it."

But there was no real reason why he should have known it, for this
Egbert was not at all like the Egbert he had been expecting to see.

CHAPTER X

Sears Kendrick left the Fair Harbor, perhaps fifteen minutes later, with
that thought still uppermost in his mind. This was not at all the Egbert
Phillips he had expected. From Judge Knowles' conversation, from Judah
Cahoon's stories, from fragmentary descriptions he had picked up here
and there about Bayport, he had fashioned an Egbert who had come to be
in his mind a very real individual. This Egbert of his imagining was an
oily, rather flashily dressed adventurer, a glib talker, handsome in a
stage hero sort of way, with exaggerated politeness and a toothsome
smile. There should be about this individual a general atmosphere of
brilliantine, clothes and jewelry. On the whole he might have been
expected to look a bit like the manager the captain had seen standing
beside the ticket wagon at the circus, twirling his mustache with one
hand and his cane with the other. Not quite as showy, not quite as
picturesque, but a marked resemblance nevertheless.

And the flesh and blood Egbert Phillips was not that kind at all. One
was not conscious of his clothes, except that they were all that they
should be as to fit--and style. He wore no jewelry whatever save his
black cuff buttons and studs. His black tie was not of Bayport's
fashion, certainly. It was ample, flowing and picturesque, rather in the
foreign way. No other male in Bayport could have worn that tie and not
looked foolish, yet Mr. Phillips did not look foolish, far from it. He
did not wear a beard, another unusual bit of individuality, but his
long, drooping mustache was extraordinarily becoming and--yes,
aristocratic was the word. His smile was pleasant, his handshake was
cordial, but not overdone, and his voice low and pleasant. Above all he
had a manner, a manner which caused Sears, who had sailed pretty well
over the world and had met all sorts of people in all sorts of places,
to feel awkward and countrified. Yet one could tell that Mr. Phillips
would not have one feel that way for the world; it was his desire to put
every one at his or her ease.

He greeted the captain with charming a