Cap'n Abe, Storekeeper Part 16

Milt Baker, like the other neighbors, was becoming familiar, if not friendly, with the subst.i.tute storekeeper and, leaning on the showcase.

Milt said:

"Leave me have a piece of Brown Mule, Cap'n Am'zon. I'm all out o'

chewin'. Put it on the book and Mandy'll pay for it."

"Avast there!" Cap'n Amazon returned. "Seems to me I got something in the bill o' ladin' 'bout that," and he drew forth the long memorandum Cap'n Abe had made to guide his subst.i.tute's treatment of certain customers. "No," the subst.i.tute storekeeper said, shaking his head negatively. "Can't do it."

"Why not, I want to know?" bl.u.s.tered Milt. "I guess my credit's good."

He already had the Brown Mule in his hand.

"Your wife's credit seems to be good," Cap'n Amazon returned firmly.

"But here's what I find here: 'Don't trust Milt Baker for Brown Mule 'cause Mandy makes him pay cash for his tobacker and rum. We don't sell no rum.' That's enough, young man."

Milt might have tried to argue the case with Cap'n Abe; but not with Cap'n Amazon. There was something in the steady look of the latter that caused the shiftless clam digger to dig down into his pocket for the nickel, pay it over, and walk grumblingly out of the store.

"Does beat all what a fool a woman will be," commented Cap'n Amazon, rather enigmatically; only Louise, who heard him, realized fully what his thought was. Jealous and hard-working Mandy Baker had chosen for herself a handicap in the marriage game.

CHAPTER X

WHAT LOUISE THINKS

Sunday morning such a hush pervaded the store on the Sh.e.l.l Road, and brooded over its surroundings, as Lou Grayling had seldom experienced save in the depths of the wilderness.

She beheld a breeze-swept sea from her window with no fishing boats going out. There was n.o.body on the clam flats, although the tide was just right at dawn. The surfman from the patrol station beyond The Beaches paced to the end of his beat dressed in his best, like a man merely taking a Sunday morning stroll.

The people she saw seemed to be changed out of their everyday selves.

Not only were they in Sabbath garb, but they had on their Sabbath manner. Even to Milt Baker, the men were cleanly shaven and wore fresh cotton shirts of their wives' laundering.

Cap'n Amazon appeared from his "cabin" when the first church bells began to ring, arrayed in a much wrinkled but very good suit of "go ash.o.r.e" clothes of blue, which were possibly those he had worn when he arrived at the store on the Sh.e.l.l Road. He wore a hard, glazed hat of an old-fashioned naval shape and, instead of the usual red bandana, he wore a black silk handkerchief tied about his head.

Just why he always kept his crown thus swathed, Louise was very desirous of knowing. Yet she did not feel like asking him such a very personal question. Had it been Cap'n Abe she would not for a moment have hesitated. Louise had heard of men being scalped by savages and she was almost tempted to believe that this had happened to Cap'n Amazon in one of his wild encounters.

"We'll go to the First Church, Niece Louise," he said firmly. "Abe always did. These small-fry craft, like the Mariner's Chapel, are all right, I don't dispute; but they are lacking in ballast. It's in my mind to attend the church that's the most like a well-founded, deep-sea craft."

Louise was more impressed than amused by this philosophy. The captain seemed to have put on his "Sunday face" like everybody else. As they came out of the yard old Washington Gallup hobbled by, but instead of stopping to chatter inconsequently, for he was an inveterate gossip, he saluted the captain respectfully and hobbled on.

Indeed, the captain was a figure on this day to command profound respect. It is no trick at all for a big man to look dignified and impressive; but Cap'n Amazon was not a big man. However, in his blue pilot-cloth suit, cut severely plain, and with his hard black hat on his head he made a veritable picture of what a master-mariner should be.

On his quarter-deck, in fair or foul weather, Louise was sure that he had never lacked the respect of his crew or their confidence. He was distinctly a man to command--a leader and director by nature. He was, indeed, different from the seemingly easy-going, gentle-spoken Cap'n Abe, the storekeeper.

They had scarcely started up the Sh.e.l.l Road when the whir of a fast-running automobile sounded behind them and the mellow hoot of a horn. Louise turned to see a great touring car take the curve from the direction of The Beaches and glide swiftly toward them. Lawford Tapp was guiding the car.

"Then he's a chauffeur as well as fisherman and boatman," she thought.

She could not see how he was dressed under the coat he wore; but he touched his cap to her and Cap'n Amazon as he drove by.

Beside Lawford on the driving seat was a plump little man who seemed to be violently quarreling with the chauffeur. In the tonneau was a matronly woman and three girls including "L'Enfant Terrible," all, Louise thought, rather overdressed.

"Those folks, so I'm told," said Cap'n Amazon placidly, "come from that big house on the p'int--as far as you can see from our windows. More money than good sense, I guess. Though the man, he comes of good old Cape stock. But I guess that blood can de-te-ri-orate, as the feller said. Ain't much of it left in the young folks, pretty likely. They just laze around and play all the time. If 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,' you can take it from me, Niece Louise, that all play and no work makes Jill a pretty average useless girl. Yes, sir!"

To the First Church it was quite a walk, up Main Street beyond the Inn and the post-office. There was some little bustle on Main Street at church-going time for some of the vacation visitors--those of more modest pretensions than the occupants of the cottages at The Beaches--had already arrived.

At the head of the church aisle Cap'n Amazon spoke apologetically to the usher:

"Young man, my brother, Mr. Abram Silt, hires a pew here; but I don't rightly know its bearings. Would you mind showin' me and my niece the course?"

They were accommodated. After service several shook hands with them; but Louise noticed that many cast curious glances at the black silk handkerchief on Cap'n Amazon's head and did not come near. Despite his dignity and the reverence of his bearing, he did look peculiar with that 'kerchief swathing his crown.

Gusty Durgin, the waitress at the Cardhaven Inn, claimed acquaintanceship after church with Louise.

"There's goin' to be more of your crowd come to-morrow, Miss Grayling,"

she said. "Some of 'em's goin' to stop with us at the Inn. How you makin' out down there to Cap'n Abe's? Land sakes! _that_ ain't Cap'n Abe!"

"It is his brother, Cap'n Amazon Silt," explained Louise.

"I want to know! He looks amazin' funny, don't he? Not much like Cap'n Abe. You see, my folks live down the Sh.e.l.l Road. My ma married again. D'rius Vleet. Nice man, but a Dutchman. I don't take up much with these furiners.

"Now! what was I sayin'? Oh! The boss tells me there's a Mr. Judson Bane of your crowd goin' to stop with us. Sent a telegraph dispatch for a room to be saved for him. With bath! Land sakes! ain't the whole ocean big enough for him to take a bath in? We ain't got nothing like that. And two ladies--I forget their names. You know Mr. Bane?".

"I have met him--once," confessed Louise.

"Some swell he is, I bet," Gusty declared. "I'm goin' to speak to him.

Mebbe he can get me into the company. I ain't so _aw_-ful fat. I seen a picture over to Paulmouth last night where there was a girl bigger'n I am, and she took a re'l sad part.

"She cried re'l tears. _I_ can do that. All I got to do is to think of something re'l mis'rable--like the time our old brahma hen, Beauty, got bit by Esek Coe's dog, and ma had to saw her up. Then the tears'll squeeze right out, _just as ea'sy_!"

Louise thought laughter would overcome her "just as easy" despite the day and place. She knew a hearty burst of laughter in the church edifice would amaze and shock the lingering congregation.

Seeing that Cap'n Amazon was busy with some men he had met, the girl walked out to the little vestibule of the church. Here a number of women and men were discussing various matters--the sermon, the weather, clamming, boating, and the colony at The Beaches. Two women stood apart from the others and presently Louise was attracted to them by the sound of Lawford Tapp's name.

"I dunno who he is exactly, bein' somethin' o' a stranger here," one of the women said. "But I was told he was some poor relation who allers lived among the fisher folk. But he does seem to know how to run thet autermobile, don't he?"

"I should say!" returned the other woman. "An' he's well spoken, too--from what I heard him say down to the store."

"Yes, I know that too. Well, I hope he buys the outfit--Jimmy wants to sell it bad enough--an' needs the money, believe me!" And thereupon the two women took their departure.

The conversation hung in Louisa's mind and she looked exceedingly thoughtful when Cap'n Amazon broke away from those with whom he had been talking and joined her.

"Nice man, that Reverend Jimson, I guess," the captain said, as they wended their way homeward; "but he's got as many ways of holdin' a feller as an octopus. And lemme tell you, that's a plenty! Arms seem to grow on devilfish 'while you wait' as the feller said.

"I sha'n't ever forget the time I was a boy in the old _Mary Bedloe_ brig, out o' Boston, loaded with sundries for Jamaica, to bring back mola.s.ses--and something a leetle mite stronger. That's 'bout as near as I ever got to having traffic with liquor--and 'twas an unlucky v'y'ge all the way through.

"Before we ever got the rum aboard," pursued Cap'n Amazon, "on our way down there, our water went bad. Yes, sir! Water does get stringy sometimes on long v'y'ges. It useter on whalin' cruises--get all stringy and bad; but after she'd worked clear she'd be fit to drink again.

"But this time in the _Mary Bedloe_ it was something mysterious happened to the drinking water. Made the hull crew sick. Cap'n Jim Braman was master. He was a good navigator, but an awful profane man.

Swore without no reason to it.