ick was most thoroughly angry with him and most
completely convinced that he was responsible for all his own troubles,
including the loss of Elizabeth Berry's friendship--even then he found
it hard to sit down and deliberately plan a campaign against him. It
seemed like campaigning against a butterfly. The captain disliked him
extremely, but he never felt a desire to knock him down. To kick
him--yes. Perhaps to thump the beaver hat over his eyes and help him
down the brick path of the Harbor with the judicious application of a
boot, grinning broadly during the process--that was Sears Kendrick's
idea of a fitting treatment for King Egbert the Great.

The captain had done his share of fighting during an adventurous
lifetime, but his opponents had always been men. Somehow Phillips did
not seem to him like a man. A creature so very ornamental, with so much
flourish, so superlatively elegant, so overwhelmingly correct, so
altogether and all the time the teacher of singing school or dancing
school--how could one seriously set about fighting such a bundle of
fluff? A feather-duster seemed a more fitting weapon than a shotgun.

But the fluff was flying high and in the sunshine and was already far
out of reach of the duster. Soon it would be out of reach of the
shotgun. Unless the fight was made serious and deadly at once there
would be none at all. Unless having already lost about all that made
life worth living, Sears Kendrick wished to be driven from Bayport in
inglorious rout, he had better campaign in earnest. Passive resistance
must end.

As a beginning he questioned Judah once more concerning Phillips'
standing in the community. It was unchanged, so Judah said. He was quite
as popular, still the brave and uncomplaining martyr, always the idol of
the women and a large proportion of the men.

"Did you hear about him down to the Orthodox church fair last week?"
asked Mr. Cahoon. "You didn't! Creepin'! I thought everybody aboard had
heard about that. Seems they'd sold about everything there was to sell,
but of course there was a few things left, same as there always is, and
amongst 'em was a patchwork comforter that old Mrs. Jarvis--Capn'
Azariah Jarvis's second wife she was--you remember Cap'n Azariah, don't
ye, Cap'n Sears? He was the one that used to swear so like fury. Didn't
mean nothin' by it, just a habit 'twas, same as usin' tobacco or rum is
with some folks. Didn't know when---- Eh? Oh, yes, about that comforter.