Captain Pott's Minister Part 9

"Oh, Josiah! I hope he won't blame me for what's happened."

"Cal'late he won't blame you," said the seaman sympathetically.

"Why are things so upset in town against him?"

"I ain't able to answer that, Eadie. It does seem that the old ark is going through quite a squall, don't it?"

"Has Harry said anything to you?"

"Not yet, he ain't, and if I sight him fust he ain't going to say anything. I ain't got time for him to get his pumps working on me."

"You mark my word, he will say something, and don't you believe one word when he does. I don't see what's got into him. Somebody has bewitched him."

The Captain stared at her. Here were signs of a new kind of microbe, and he could make neither head nor tail of it. It was next to the miraculous for Mrs. Beaver to espouse an unpopular cause when there was interesting gossip to repeat.

"You don't say!" exclaimed the seaman.

"I do say. Hank Simpson is the only man in this town beside you who's got back-bone enough to stand by himself! He'd struck Harry last night if that Hicks hadn't held him off. I wish he had hit him hard, maybe it would have brought him to his senses."

"Are you trying to tell me that Harry's got the gossiping fever?"

"Not only that, but what he's saying is pure lies. I can't see why he wants to do other people's dirty work," complained the unhappy woman.

"I cal'late you'd best give me some idea about this here yarn he's spinning, so's I can lay for him with a spike."

"It's about Mr. McGowan, and what he's telling ain't true, and I know it!" Her voice broke into short dry sobs. "He says our minister is doing things down to the Inn that ain't right. And, then, that Reverend Mr.

Means was up again the other day, and told Mr. Fox something. Harry won't tell me what it was, but he keeps saying it's awful scandalous."

"Well, Eadie, if I was you I'd quit spilling all that brine, for it ain't wuth it."

"But, Josiah, it is worth it. They're trying to ruin Mr. McGowan, and he's such a fine man. Won't you stop Harry's talking in some way? Won't you go to Mr. Fox?"

"Me go to Jim? What in tarnation would you have me say to him?"

"I don't care what you say, but make him understand that he's to leave Harry alone, and stop him telling what ain't so."

"Maybe he's the one who has made Harry believe it is so. In that case, I'm 'feared my views on the subject might set off some real fireworks."

"But you must make him believe you! Can't you say something?"

"I ain't sartin but I might say a thing or two, and they won't be words fit for a prayer-meeting, either."

"Then, you will speak to him?" she asked eagerly.

"We'll see, Eadie. Maybe I'll do something, too. But I cal'late we'd best begin as Scripture says, right here at home."

"You mean you'll speak to Harry? What will you say?"

"I ain't got it all figured out yet being as we're camped on this here sand-heap. If I was aboard ship I'd kick him down the deck and up again, then into the hatches for a little tonic for disobeying orders. Beyond that, I ain't able to say right offhand."

Mrs. Beaver clutched the back of a chair. "Oh, don't hurt my Harry! He's all I've got!"

"He ain't wuth boasting about, Eadie. But being as he is all you've got in the way of earthly possession, and being as we're on land, I cal'late I won't do harm. But if I was you I'd steer him clear of these channels for a spell till I calm down a mite."

"O dear! I've made a mistake coming to you, and I hoped you'd help me. I shouldn't have told you!"

"We won't argue that p'int."

"Whatever shall I do!"

"The fust thing I'd do,"--suggested the Captain, slowly nodding his head for emphasis,--"would be to use a little discipline on your fust mate."

"But I can't make Harry mind any more!"

The pitiful figure gave the Captain an uneasy feeling as he tried to return her pathetic gaze. He replied kindly:

"Eadie, you've always held a purty tight rein over that husband of yours, about the best I ever see drawn over a prancing colt. You'd best tighten up a mite on them reins, right sudden-like."

"But I haven't any power over him now. He's that worked up that I can't even talk to him. He shuts me right up."

"What's that? You can't handle that little shrimp?"

She uttered a cry, and looked past the Captain, through the dining-room door, into the hall. The seaman turned in the direction of her wild and distracted gaze. Mr. Beaver, more wild and distracted than his spouse, stood in the door, the incarnation of burning pa.s.sion and pent up fury.

"W-What are you d-doing in this m-man's house?" he shouted, his shrill voice breaking into a ferocious shriek, as he blinked and pointed at his frightened wife.

Captain Pott was so surprised that he merely gaped at the infuriated little man.

"Harry, please don't!" pleaded Mrs. Beaver, drawing back against the wainscoting.

"C-Come out of h-here!" hissed her husband. He brought his heel down with such vehemence that he chipped off a splinter from the threshold.

"Best stand back, Eadie, and be careful not to touch him," advised the Captain, eyeing the human cyclone with amus.e.m.e.nt and amazement. "Looks mighty dangerous, and sort as if he might go off."

Harry met these words with a blazing glare.

"Cal'late you'd best come in and cool off a mite, Harry. You seem sort of het up."

"W-Woman, c-come w-with m-me!" spluttered Mr. Beaver.

He strutted round the room, well out of the Captain's reach, and back again toward the door, looking for the world like a young barnyard fowl.

But his wife did not follow.

"She ain't going just yet. We was having a quiet-like chat when you busted in here, and I cal'late we'd best make it three-sided, that is, if you ain't got no reasonable objection to raise. Come, you ain't in that rush."

Harry bounded toward the door. So, also, did the Captain. A heavy hand fell on the shoulder of the little man and spun him about.

"It's real nice of you to come in like this for a friendly conflab,"