Captain Pott's Minister Part 13

"Mack, this here place ain't your house. Cal'late I'll do about as I please on that p'int."

"If I can't stand the expense with part salary, you certainly can't stand it with none," persisted the minister.

"I ain't sartin it would cost anything. Leastwise, it won't cost much. I ain't sartin,"--repeated the Captain as though in meditation,--"but I think she'll come."

"Who?"

"Don't let your cur'osity get away with you, young feller. I ain't promising nothing, but I'm just thinking, that's all. How'd you like to cruise round the P'int to-morrow, Mack?"

"You have a delightful way of changing the subject when it gets too hot. But I'd certainly like the cruise and the air."

"I cal'late I ain't changed no subject. We'll go over Riverhead way.

It'll be sort of a vacation from all this mess, and give me a chance to see about this puzzling woman question."

With this declaration, the Captain retreated into a silence which all of Mr. McGowan's questions failed to penetrate. The old man was thinking of Clemmie Pipkin!

Clemmie had been the object of his boyhood ardor till the day when his dashing half-brother had kidnapped her affections. But no sooner had he won her from the Captain than he disappeared, leaving the faithful Miss Pipkin, never to return. She had remained unmarried all these years, in spite of the oft-repeated attempt on the part of Captain Pott to rekindle her love. He wondered now, as he sat before the dying fire, if her presence in his home would change her att.i.tude toward him. This question wakened anew the desire of his youth, and after he had retired it kept sleep from his eyes through the long hours of the night. He must have Clemmie Pipkin to take care of his house.

Daylight had barely kindled her fires over the eastern waters when the two men boarded the _Jennie P._ Mr. McGowan noticed that the Captain took particular pains in cleaning and polishing the few bra.s.s tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs.

They both worked hard till the sun appeared, and then hastily ate a lunch which they had brought aboard with them. After finishing the sandwiches, the Captain went forward and dropped a measuring-stick into the gasoline tank.

"I'll swan!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "There ain't a drop of 'ile in that there tank. And I left the cans ash.o.r.e."

"I'll go for them."

"No, you don't, young feller! You stay right aboard here," ordered the skipper. "You can be working on the engine, or something. I'll get that 'ile myself."

Surprised at the seaman's earnestness, the minister obeyed. He was working over the engine, his hands covered with grease, when the dory sc.r.a.ped the side of the boat. He came out of the c.o.c.kpit, and, to his amazement, saw the Captain a.s.sisting two young ladies into the _Jennie P._ Each carried a large basket. They were no less surprised than he.

"Why, Mr. McGowan!" exclaimed Elizabeth, the color flooding her already rosy cheeks.

"Captain Pott!" cried Miss Splinter.

Mr. McGowan said nothing. He folded his hands behind him and looked foolish.

"I thought maybe a little company might liven up the trip," observed the seaman, looking like a schoolboy who had sprung a surprise on his teacher. "Ain't you going to welcome 'em? You'll find their name on the roster, and they brought their grub with 'em."

"This is a very delightful surprise," faintly declared the minister.

Elizabeth looked troubled, and her discomfort did not add to the minister's ease. She had been anything but cordial since the incident at her home when Mr. Fox had taken ill. He had not seen her since the fight. He feared that the interpretation placed on that by her father had not bettered his standing.

"I didn't go to bed last night right off, Mack, when I said I was going," explained the Captain. "I went out and fixed up this little party for a sort of surprise to all hands. I stowed that 'ile in the boat-house on purpose so as I could get ash.o.r.e without too many questions."

"I trust that our going will make no difference."

The minister's embarra.s.sment had grown painful. With a hopeless gesture he brought out a pair of black grimy hands. "Indeed, it will make a difference, Miss Fox, all the difference in the world. If the Captain had kept his engine cleaner I'd have been able to give you a more hearty welcome."

The sight of the greasy hands broke the tension, and although Mr.

McGowan cordially extended them neither young lady offered hers in return.

The cruise was a great success, if we take the Captain's word for it, which word was given to Mrs. Beaver on their return to Little River.

"Them young folks had the time of their lives, and I never see a more likely pair than that little Beth and the minister as they stood by the wheel together steering the _Jennie P._ through them rollers. Beth takes to water just the same way she takes to everything, with her whole soul."

It was noon when they cast anchor in the Riverhead Inlet. The men prepared to go ash.o.r.e while the girls took out the lunches. As the baskets were opened, and bundles untied, Mr. McGowan suggested that they make for sh.o.r.e before their appet.i.tes demanded otherwise.

At the landing the men parted, for the Captain had expressed the desire to make his visit alone. He did not tell the minister that his destination was the County Farm for fear that he, Mr. McGowan, would not understand that Clemmie Pipkin was the matron, and not an inmate.

Captain Pott found Miss Pipkin without difficulty. During the past ten years, he had been a frequent visitor at the Farm, and many knew him. He went at once to the bare little reception-room and made known his presence. As Miss Pipkin entered a slight tinge crept into the hollow of her sallow cheeks. She extended a bony hand.

"I'm real glad to see you, Josiah. It's been a long time since you called."

"Howdy, Clemmie. It has been a mite long, but I've been purty busy of late trying to keep people out of trouble."

"Then you must have changed a lot."

"You ain't looking well," he observed solicitously. "Ain't sick, be you?"

"No," she answered with a deep sigh. "That is, I ain't real sick. I ain't been feeling quite myself for a spell, but I reckon it will wear off."

"You'll wear off if you don't get out of this place," replied the Captain.

Miss Pipkin was far from being a beautiful woman. From all appearances she had never been pretty, or even good-looking. Her form had a few too many sharp angles where it should have been curved. Her face was long and thin, and now age and worry had dug deeply into the homely features, obliterating the last trace of middle life. She always dressed in black, and to-day the Captain saw that her clothes were worn and faded.

He moved uneasily as his quick eye took in the meaning of these signs.

"I cal'late they're working you too hard here, Clemmie," he said tenderly. "You'd best get away for a spell."

"I'd like to have a rest, but I can't leave. There's no one to take my place."

"Pshaw! There's plenty who'd be glad for the place."

"Anyhow, I ain't got no place to go."

"That's what I've come to see you about, Clemmie."

Miss Pipkin straightened with cold dignity, and her eyes flashed fires of warning.

"Josiah Pott! Be you proposing to me _again_?"

"Now, don't get mad, Clemmie. I ain't proposing to you," he explained as calmly as possible. "But as I've said afore----"

"I know what you've said, learnt it like a book. And you know what I've said, too. My no means NO."

"I cal'late you ain't left no room for me to doubt that. You've made that purty tolerable plain. I reckon we're getting too old for that now, anyway. Leastwise, I be," he finished hurriedly, noting a rising color in her thin cheeks.

"Huh!" she grunted indignantly. "A body'd think you was the grandfather of Methuselah to hear you talk."

"I am getting on purty well, Clemmie."