pose I sneaked
into this kitchen by myself to peek into that closet, and--and spy on
your mother's managin'?... You don't believe anything of that kind. You
can't."

She was more embarrassed now. "Why--why, no, I don't, Cap'n Kendrick,"
she admitted. "Of course I know you wouldn't sneak anywhere. But--but I
have been given to understand that you and--well, Mr. Bradley--have not
been--are not quite satisfied with the management--with mother's
management. And----"

"Wait! Heave to!" Sears was excited now, and, as usual when excited,
drifted into nautical phraseology. "What do you mean by sayin' I am not
satisfied? Who told you that?"

"Why--well, you are not, are you? You questioned her about the coal a
week ago, about how much she used in a week. And then you asked her
about keeping the fires overnight, if she saw how many were kept, and if
there was much waste. And two or three times you have been seen standing
by the bins--figuring."

"Good Lord!" His exclamation this time was one of sheer amazement. "Good
Lord!" he said again. "Why, I have been tryin', now winter is comin' on,
to figure out how to save coal cost for this craft--for the Fair Harbor.
You know I have. I asked your mother about the fires because I know how
much waste there is likely to be when a fire is kept carelessly. And as
for Bradley and I not bein' satisfied with your mother that is the
wildest idea of all. I never talked with Bradley about the management
here. It isn't his business, for one reason."

She was silent. Her expression had changed. Then she said, impulsively,
"I'm sorry. Please don't mind what I said, Cap'n Kendrick. I--I am
rather nervous and--and troubled just now. Of course, you are not
obliged to come over here as--as often as you used.... But things I have
heard---- Oh, I shouldn't pay attention to them, I suppose. I--I am very
sorry."

But he was not quite in the mood to forgive. And one sentence in
particular occupied his attention.

"Things you have heard," he repeated. "Yes.... I should judge you must
have heard a good deal. But who did you hear it from?... Look here,
Elizabeth; how did you know I was here in the kitchen now? Did you just
happen to come out and find me by accident?"

She reddened. "Why--why----" she stammered.

"Or did some one tell you I was out here--spyin' on the pickles?"

His tone was a most unusual one from him to her. She resented it.

"No one told me you were 'spying'," she replied; coldly