Cy Whittaker's Place Part 15

Naturally, they wanted to know all about the girl, who she was and where she came from. Captain Cy told as much of the history of the affair as he thought necessary.

"Poor young one," he concluded, "she landed on to me in the rain, soppin' wet, and ha'f sick. I COULDN'T turn her out then--n.o.body could.

Course it's an everlastin' outrage on me and the cheekiest thing ever I heard of, but what could I do? I was fixed a good deal like an English feller by the name of Gatenby that I used to know in South America. He woke up in the middle of the night and found a boa constrictor curled on the foot of his bed. Next day, when a crowd of us happened in, there was Gatenby, white as a sheet, starin' down at the snake, and it sound asleep. 'I didn't invite him,' he says, 'but he looked so bloomin'

comf'table I 'adn't the 'eart to disturb 'im.' Same way with me; the child seemed so comf'table here I ain't had the heart to disturb her--yet."

"But she said she was goin' to stay," put in Bailey. "You ain't goin' to KEEP her, are you?"

The captain's indignation was intense.

"Who--me?" he snorted. "What do you think I am? I ain't runnin' an orphan asylum. No, sir! I'll keep the young one a day or so--or maybe a week--and then I'll pack her off to Betsy Howes. I ain't so soft as they think I am. I'LL show 'em!"

Mr. Tidditt looked thoughtful.

"She's a kind of cute little girl, ain't she?" he observed.

Captain Cy's frown vanished and a smile took its place.

"That's so," he chuckled. "She is, now that's a fact! I don't know's I ever saw a cuter."

CHAPTER VII

CAPTAIN CY PROVES DELINQUENT

A week isn't a very long time even in Bayport. True, there was once a drummer for a Boston "notion" house who sprained his ankle on the icy sidewalk in front of Simmons's, and was therefore obliged to remain in the front bedroom of the perfect boarding house for seven whole days. He is quoted as saying that next time he hoped he might break his neck.

"Brother," asked the shocked Rev. Mr. Daniels, who was calling upon the stranger, "are you prepared to face eternity?"

"What?" was the energetic reply. "After a week in this town, and in this bedroom? Look here, Mister, if you want to scare me about the future you just hint that they'll put me on a straw tick in an ice chest. Anything hot and lively 'll only be tempting after this."

But to us, who live here throughout the year, a week soon pa.s.ses. And the end of the week following Emily Thomas's arrival at the Cy Whittaker place found the little girl still there and apparently no nearer being shipped to Indiana than when she came. Not so near, if Mr. Tidditt's opinion counts for anything.

"Gone?" he repeated scoffingly in reply to Bailey Bangs's question.

"Course she ain't gone! And, what's more, she ain't goin' to go. Whit's got so already that he wouldn't part with her no more'n he'd cut off his hand."

"But he keeps SAYIN' she's got to go. Only yesterday he was tellin' how Betsy'd feel when the girl landed on her with his letter in her pocket."

"Sayin' don't count for nothin'. Zoeth Cahoon keeps SAYIN' he's goin' to stop drinkin', but he only stops long enough to catch his breath. Cy's tellin' himself fairy yarns and he hopes he believes 'em. Man alive!

can't you SEE? Ain't he gettin' more foolish over the young one every day? Don't she boss him round like the overseer on a cranberry swamp?

Don't he look more contented than he has sence he got off the cars? I tell you, Bailey, that child fills a place in Whit's life that's been runnin' to seed and needed weedin'. Nothin' could fill it better--unless 'twas a nice wife."

"WIFE! Oh, DO be still! I believe you're woman-struck and at an age when it hadn't ought to be catchin' no more'n whoopin' cough."

Mr. Bangs and the town clerk were the only ones, except Captain Cy, who knew the whole truth concerning the little girl. Not that the child's arrival wasn't noted and vigorously discussed by a large portion of the townspeople. Emily had not been in the Whittaker house two days before Angeline Phinney called, hot on the trail of gossip and sensation. But, persistent as Angeline was, she departed knowing not quite as much as when she came. The interview between Miss Phinney and the captain must have been interesting, judging by the lady's account of it.

"I never see such a man in my born days," declared Angie disgustedly.

"You couldn't get nothin' out of him. Not that he wan't pleasant and sociable; land sakes! he acted as glad to see me as if I was his rich aunt come on a visit. And he was willin' to talk, too. That's the trouble; he done ALL the talkin'. I happened to mention, just as a sort of starter, you know, somethin' about the cranb'ry crop this fall; and after that all he could say was 'cranb'ries, cranb'ries, cranb'ries!'

'Hear you've got comp'ny,' says I. 'Did you?' says he. 'Now ain't it strange how things'll get spread around? Only yesterday I heard that Joe Dimick's swamp was just loaded down with "early blacks." And yet when I went over to look at it there didn't seem to be so many. There ain't much better cranb'ries anywhere than our early blacks,' he says. 'You take 'em--' And so on, and so on, and so on. _I_ didn't care nothin'

about the dratted early blacks, but he didn't seem to care for nothin'

else. He talked cranb'ries steady for an hour and a half and I left that house with my mouth all puckered up; it's tasted sour ever sence. I never see such a man!"

When Captain Cy was questioned by Asaph concerning the acid conversation, he grinned.

"I didn't know you was so interested in cranb'ries," observed Tidditt.

"I ain't," was the reply; "but I'm more interested in 'em than I am in Angie. I see she was sufferin' from a rush of curiosity to the head and I cured her by homeopath doses. Every time she opened her mouth I dropped an 'early black' into it. It's a good receipt; you tell Bailey to try it on Ketury some time."

To his chums the captain was emphatic in his orders that secrecy be preserved. No one was to be told who the child was or where she came from. "What they don't know won't hurt 'em any," declared Captain Cy.

And Emily's answer to inquiring souls who would fain have delved into her past was to the effect that "Uncle Cyrus" didn't like to have her talk about herself.

"I don't know's I'm ashamed of anything I've done so far," said the captain; "but I ain't braggin', either. Time enough to talk when I send her back to Betsy."

That time, apparently, was not in the near future. The girl stayed on at the Whittaker place and grew to be more and more a part of it. At the end of the second week Captain Cy began calling her "Bos'n."

"A bos'n's a mighty handy man aboard ship," he explained, "and you're so handy here that it fits in first rate. And, besides, it sounds so natural. My dad called me 'Bos'n' when I was little."

Emily accepted the t.i.tle complacently. She was quite contented to be called almost anything, so long as she was permitted to stay with her new friend. Already the bos'n had taken charge of the deck and the rest of the ship's company; Captain Cy and "Lonesome," the cat, obeyed her orders.

On the second Sunday morning after her arrival "Bos'n" suggested that she and Captain Cy go to church.

"Mother and I always went at home," she said. "And Auntie Oliver used to say meeting was a good thing for those that needed it."

"Think I need it, do you?" asked the captain, who, in shirt sleeves and slippers, had prepared for a quiet forenoon with his pipe and the Boston Transcript.

"I don't know, sir. I heard what you said when Lonesome ate up the steak, and I thought maybe you hadn't been for a long time. I guess churches are different in South America."

So they went to church and sat in the old Whittaker pew. The captain had been there once before when he first returned to Bayport, but the sermon was more somnolent than edifying, and he hadn't repeated the experiment.

The pair attracted much attention. Fragments of a conversation, heard by Captain Cy as they emerged into the vestibule, had momentous consequences.

"Kind of a pretty child, ain't she?" commented Mrs. Eben Salters, patting her false front into place under the eaves of her Sunday bonnet.

"Pretty enough in the face," sniffed Mrs. "Tad" Simpson, who was wearing her black silk for the first time since its third making-over. "Pretty enough that way, I s'pose. But, my land! look at the way she's rigged. Old dress, darned and patched up and all outgrown! If I had Cy Whittaker's money I'd be ashamed to have a relation of mine come to meetin' that way. Even if her folks was poorer'n Job's off ox I'd spend a little on my own account and trust to getting it back some time. I'd have more care for my own self-respect. Look at Alicia Atkins. See how nice she looks. Them feathers on her hat must have cost somethin', I bet you. Howdy do, 'Licia, dear? When's your pa comin' home?"

The Honorable Heman had left town on a business trip to the South.

Alicia was accompanied by the Atkins housekeeper and, as usual, was garbed regardless of expense.

Mrs. Salters smiled sweetly upon the Atkins heir and then added, in a church whisper: "Don't she look sweet? I agree with you, Sarah; it is strange how Captain Whittaker lets his little niece go. And him rich!"

"Niece?" repeated Mrs. Simpson eagerly. "Who said 'twas his niece? I heard 'twas a child he'd adopted out of a home. There's all sorts of queer yarns about. I--Oh, good mornin', Cap'n Cyrus! How DO you do?"

The captain grunted an answer to the effect that he was bearing up pretty well, considering. There was a scowl on his face, and he spoke little as, holding Emily by the hand, he led the way home. That evening he dropped in at the perfect boarding house and begged to know if Mrs.

Bangs had any "fashion books" around that she didn't want.

"I mean--er--er--magazines with pictures of women's duds in 'em," he stammered, in explanation. "Bos'n likes to look at 'em. She's great on fashion books, Bos'n is."

Keturah got together a half dozen numbers of the Home Dressmaker and other periodicals of a similar nature. The captain took them under his arm and departed, whispering to Mr. Tidditt, as he pa.s.sed the latter in the hall: