lly," continued the Captain.
"Anyhow, Perez's niece's husband died, and the boy sort of run loose,
as yer might say. Went to school when he had to, and raised Ned when
he didn't, near's I can find out. 'Lizabeth, that's his ma, died last
spring, and she made Perez promise--he being the only relation the
youngster had--to fetch the boy down here and sort of bring him up.
Perez knows as much about bringing up a boy as a hen does about the Ten
Commandments, and 'Lizabeth made him promise not to lick the youngster
and a whole lot more foolishness. School don't commence here till
October, so we got him a job with Lem Mullett at the liv'ry stable. He's
boardin' with Lem till school opens. He ain't a reel bad boy, but he
knows too much 'bout some things and not ha'f enough 'bout others.
You've seen fellers like that, maybe?"

Hazeltine nodded. "There are a good many of that kind in New York, I'm
afraid," he said.

Captain Eri smiled. "I shouldn't wonder," he observed. "The boys down
here think Josiah's the whole crew, and the girls ain't fur behind.
There's been more deviltry in this village sence he landed than there
ever was afore. He needs somethin', and needs it bad, but I ain't
decided jest what it is yit. Are you a married man?"

"No."

"Same here. Never had the disease. Perez, he's had symptoms every once
in a while, but nothin' lastin'. Jerry's the only one of us three that's
been through the mill. His wife died twenty year ago. I don't know as
I told you, but Jerry and Perez and me are keepin' house down by the
shore. That is, we call it keepin' house, but--"

Here the Captain broke off and seemed to meditate.

Ralph Hazeltine forbore to interrupt, and occupied himself by
scrutinizing the buildings that they were passing. They were nearing the
center of the town now, and the houses were closer together than they
had been on the "depot road," but never so close as to be in the least
crowded. Each house had its ample front yard, and the new arrival
could smell the box hedges and see, now and then, the whiteness of the
kalsomined stones that bordered a driveway. It was too dark for the big
seashells at the front steps to be visible, but they were there, all the
same; every third house of respectability in Orham has them. There was
an occasional shop, too, with signs like "Cape Cod Variety Store," or
"The Boston Dry Goods Emporium," over their doors. On the platform of
one a small crowd was gathered, and from the i