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Captain Pott's Minister.
by Francis L. Cooper.
CHAPTER I
The sound of voices suddenly arrested Captain Pott's fork in mid-air, and the morsel of untasted salt-mackerel dangled uncertainly from the points of the dingy tines as he swung about to face the open door. Fork and mackerel fell to the floor as the seaman abruptly rose and stalked outside. The stern features of the rugged old face sagged with astonishment as he blinked at the small army of men swarming over his littered yard.
"'Mornin', Cap'n," cheerily called Hank Simpson, the village storekeeper, as he approached the irate man on the stoop.
Captain Pott was so completely jarred out of his usual complacency that for once he had nothing to say. He forgot even to swear. As the significance of the movements of the intruders suddenly dawned upon him he mutely glared at Hank from beneath blackened and swollen eyelids.
"The women-folks said that you'd be wantin' to make your place look peart, bein' as the new minister is goin' to stay here with you,"
explained Hank, who was apparently the leader of the group. "When we men-folks heard that they was goin' to clean up on the inside we thought it wouldn't be no more than neighborly for us to pitch in and give you a hand with the outside."
It was evident that the Captain did not relish the explanation, for he bristled with dangerous hostility as he took a step forward. But before he could refer Hank Simpson and his entire male army to a certain warm climate where he thought they might go with mutual advantage to himself and them, the morning breeze carried within earshot another note, higher in the scale, but unmistakable in significance. Silently the old man stood and dumbly watched a procession of petticoats march up to his gate and turn into the cinder path.
The female army took possession of the house even as the men had taken possession of the yard, and he who had commanded mutinous crews on the briny deep fled and took refuge in the shade of a spreading elm near the well. Mrs. Eadie Beaver, the Captain's next-door neighbor, approached him, requested that he pitch in and help, and then as quickly beat a retreat before the fierce glare. Hank Simpson once asked where they might burn the acc.u.mulated trash. The answer was unsatisfactory though forceful. Hank declared, "Them instructions is wuth a heap, Cap'n, but unless you've got a trap-door to them parts hereabout, I reckon we'll have to do the crematin' some other way."
All the shutters on the old house were thrown wide open, and sunshine and air were allowed to penetrate corners where dust and cobwebs had held undisputed sway for years. Through the open windows came the sound of tack-hammer and puller, the moving of tables, sideboards, and chairs, and of every other article of furniture that was not actually built into the walls. From his place beneath the elm the Captain heard all these sounds, and watched his old pieces being piled in a confused ma.s.s about the front yard. He was smoking incessantly, and swearing no less frequently.
From up the road came the sharp thud of beating hoofs. As horse and rider came into view he deliberately turned in the opposite direction.
At the gate the rider drew rein and swung lithely to the ground. Many young admirers gathered quickly about the hitching-post, but the girl was too swift for them. With a friendly nod and smile she tossed her reins to a bashful youngster, and tripped up the path to where the seaman was standing.
The daughter of the senior Elder of the Little River church had always been fond of Captain Pott. When but an infant she had looked up into the clear blue eyes, adoration and love in her own. During childhood she had sat contentedly on his knee, or on a stool at his feet, listening with rapt interest to his stories of adventure by land and sea. The Captain had never been able to spin the wild yarns commonly known to be his habit when Elizabeth Fox was his only audience. This was not due to any fear that she would have detected fraud in his impossible tales, but to the fact that he could not lie when the gaze of her big blue eyes was fastened on him.
To-day she edged near and waited for recognition. Locks of her fair hair, shaken loose by her ride, went straying bewitchingly over her face and forehead. The smile in her eyes crept down to the corners of her mouth as she sought the averted face above her. But all she could glimpse were violent motions of one ragged point of his moustache as it kept imperfect time with the unseen end which was being viciously chewed.
At length, the irresistible little attraction at his side proved too strong for the Captain's stubbornness, and he looked down into her big blue eyes. At sight of his own blackened and swollen lids Elizabeth uttered a sharp cry. She took the roughened hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. But her deep concern was quickly followed by a ripple of laughter. Hers was a laugh that was as good to see as to hear. The Captain smiled a wholly unintentional smile and returned the pressure of her hand.
"Dear me, Uncle Josiah!" she exclaimed. "You look so like a terrible old storm-cloud! And those awful eyes! Where on earth did you get them?"
"Cal'late I feel a heap sight worse than I look, Beth. That set of females----"
"But your black eyes!" she interrupted. "Who made them like that? Has some one been fighting you?"
"A feller handed 'em out to me last night, and I didn't happen to be in a position to refuse 'em," he replied, his grisly weather-browned features lighting up with a wry smile.
"Who dared strike you like that!"
"Now, don't you worry, Beth. It ain't as bad as it looks. You see, I was on my way over from the station last night from the late city train.
When I got to the top of the hill I sot down for a spell, and while I was thinking, I looked down on my place. I see a light in the pantry window flicker up, die down, and then settle into a steady glow. I cal'lated it must be pirates aboard the old craft, so I tore down the hill like blazes and busted into the house. Something struck me like a ton of brick, and I went down. I never see so many stars in all my life.
The next thing I heard was a voice asking if I was hurt, and saying, 'You'll pardon me, sir.'" He chuckled with his first sign of mirth.
"When I got my senses back there was a big feller sitting on me, nearly choking off my wind. He brung out one of them lightning-bug flashlights and turned it full on me, and then shouted like a maniac, 'Why, it's Cap'n Pott!' 'That's me, but who in h.e.l.l be you?' I'm telling you just as I said it. He told me his name was Mack McGowan. Well, I was real glad to see him till he told me he was the new preacher and was going to live with me. Eadie Beaver had put him up in my house a week ago. I was mad as hops when he told me that, and I was going to throw him out, but,"--again he chuckled,--"well, I didn't."
"You thought caution was the better part of valor, is that it?"
questioned Elizabeth.
"Something like that, Beth. I cal'late we'd best say nothing to a soul about this. There'd be some who wouldn't understand the details of the transaction. It was sort of confidential, as you might say, and there'd be them who'd blame Mr. McGowan for what he wa'n't exactly responsible for."
"Oh! Can't I tell it? It's really too good to keep. And then," she added seriously, "people might think you have been really fighting. Don't you think it would be best to tell what actually happened?"
"Mighty little any of them would care how I got my shine. But I cal'late it would be best for the parson if we'd keep it quiet."
"Very well, Uncle Josiah. He is really going to live with you, isn't he?"
"Don't that look like it?" he asked, pointing his pipe-stem toward the house.
"But that is for you, too."
"For me? You'd see that set of females getting down on their prayer-bones for an old sinner like me, except to ask G.o.d A'mighty to strike me dead. I ain't that popular, not yet."
"Captain Pott, I don't like that one bit! I canceled all my engagements in the city when Father told me the other day what the ladies of the church were planning to do for you. I did it just to help you, and now----"
"There, there, Beth." The old man reached out and touched her arm.
"Excuse me, Beth. I feel like a cantankerous old sore-headed bear this morning. Of course, you come home to help me. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
"They mean well, too," she loyally defended her neighbors.
"It was awful nice of you," he replied, ignoring her reference to those at work in the house. "It's worth it to put up with that whole pack inside just to have you come."
"There, now, I have my good old Uncle back again." She had always called him Uncle. "But tell me, why do you feel so badly?"
"About them in there?" He jerked his thumb toward the house.
"No-o. I think I can understand your feelings about them. I feel the same way sometimes. If I were the minister it would take all of my religion during the week so I'd have nothing to preach on Sunday. But, there! Father must never hear of my saying that."
"He ain't likely to hear it from me."
"Have you quarreled with Father again?" She stared apprehensively.
Denial sprang to the Captain's lips, but when he looked into her eyes and saw there the expression of eagerness, he turned away.
"You have!" she averred. "I thought so! And after Father was so kind as to let you have the money to repair and paint your house!"
"Beth, we ain't exactly quarreled. Leastwise, he ain't," he finished lamely.
"Uncle Josiah, why will you and Father never understand each other?
Father is so kind and good, and so are you, and yet you are never able to agree. Why is it?" she implored.
"Too much alike, I cal'late. But honest, Beth, I ain't got nothing particular against your father, and if I had I'd sink my feelings to Davy's locker for your sake. The trouble is, I've been expecting too much, and I ain't got any right to ask your father to put himself out for an old hulk like me."
"What sheer nonsense! I've half a mind to scold you. Of course, Father is willing to put himself out for you. Only this morning he said he would do all in his power to get a ship for you to command."
"He's said something like that to me, too, several times."
"Then he'll do it, if you will only be patient. Father always keeps his word."