AN EVENING WITH CAP'N ABE
As Tom Petty showed more plainly his jealousy, his mother's unkindness
toward Pearl increased. That her son should display any interest in
the girl ground Sarah Petty's pride between the upper and the nether
millstone.
There was scarcely ever yet a woman's son who was not too good in the
mother's opinion for almost any woman he chose for a wife. The mother
may hide this feeling quite successfully; but secretly she feels that
the woman who has taken him away from her will not be worthy of her
trust.
In this case Sarah Petty was prepared to make life particularly
miserable for any daughter-in-law that the son might introduce into the
family. The thought that he might fall under the sway of the girl who
had drudged for her for seven years, was particularly exasperating.
Sarah had always accused Pearl of neglecting her work when Tom was
around. It was a sop to her pride to hold this belief. She considered
Pearl far beneath Tom's notice, and often scolded Orrin for "having
brought that pauper gal home" and thus thrown temptation in Tom's way.
Save for Cap'n Jonah, the Hands of Sarah's branch had died out, but
there were relatives of the Petty family who she considered were
well worth catering to. The twins, Apollo and Perseus Heath, and
their families were very well to do. There was Solon Petty and Enoch
Petty--the one in local, the other in State politics.
She had the family to think of, had Sarah Petty; and Tom "mixing
up with a pauper girl" was not at all to her liking. As a triangle
situation seemed to develop between Helmford, Pearl, and Tom, Sarah
Petty became so acrimonious and bitter to the girl that Cap'n Jonah
could scarcely hold his peace.
"Whatever!" he confided to 'Liphalet Truitt. "I'd give one of my
laigs--neither of 'em's much good when the rheumatism is in 'em--or an
arm if I could pay Sarah Petty back for some of her meanness to Pearly.
It's gettin' 'nough to sp'il the temper of a saint--and I ain't none!"
'Liphalet's heart was heavy and his face as long as the moral law, but
he still could feel sympathy for his friend, and for Pearly as well.
"I tell ye what, Cap'n Jonah," he said, "le's you an' me step down to
Cap'n Abe's this very evenin' and put it up to him. I tell ye, he's a
knowledgeable man."
"Wa-al," responded the captain, about at his wit's end and willing to
take almost any chance for advice that might aid in the situation.
Limping up and down the frozen road after supper that evening, leaning
rather heavily on his stick, and waiting for the ex-steward to put in
an appearance, Cap'n Jonah was hailed by what he had been pleased to
term "that spanking craft," Miss Sue Ambrose. She was returning from
some errand of mercy with an empty basket. For if a neighbor was ill or
poor, the doctor's sister was first with aid and comfort.
"Good evening, Cap'n Jonah," was her cheerful greeting. "Isn't it
rather raw for you to be out with your rheumatism?"
"Whatever!" exploded Cap'n Jonah. "I got to be out some, and I can't
leave the dratted rheumatics to home. Wish I could."
"Poor old Suz Montevedo is down, all alone in his cabin. He has the
inflammatory kind and unless his granddaughter runs in to see him, he
is all alone 'way over there beyond Tapp Point."
"Wal," said the captain, his eyes glowing with admiration, "I bet you
don't neglect him, Miss Sue."
"Oh, I do what I can," said the little woman, visibly blushing in the
starlight.
"And a feller laid on his beam ends ought not to want no better care
than you'd give him, ma'am," said the old mariner gallantly. "If I'm
laid by, myself, I hope I'll git ha'f as good."
"You'll have Pearly to nurse you, Captain," laughed Miss Sue. "And she
is a dear girl."
"Like enough! Like enough!" murmured Cap'n Jonah, as the little woman
went her way. "But the feller that got you--an' your forty thousand
dollars--would be mighty well off, an' no mistake. Hullo! Here's
'Liphalet at last."
The ex-steward had been halted by the doctor's sister for a moment.
When he reached Cap'n Jonah his countenance was stormy and his lips
grimly set.
"That there Miss Sue, Truitt, is a mighty sweet sailin' craft,"
observed the captain. "For a man of your age, say, she'd make a proper
mate."
'Liphalet growled something inaudible.
"And they tell me she's wuth forty thousand dollars in her own right,"
pursued the captain.
"By Hannah!" exploded the ex-steward.
"What's that?" responded Cap'n Jonah, startled.
"Hum! I forgot somethin'," was 'Liphalet's rather weak explanation.
He seemed to have no interest at all in Sue Ambrose and her reported
fortune.
"Wal," was the captain's final comment, "she does good with some of
her money, I haven't a doubt. But--for--ty--thou--sand--dol--lars!
Whatever! A sheer of that would purty near put a man on his feet,
Truitt."
'Liphalet did not utter another word until they entered Cap'n Abe's
store.
Supper time at this season of the year came early, that there might
be a long evening before nine-thirty o'clock, which was most people's
bedtime, and always Cap'n Abe's closing hour.
The lamplight bathed the crowded store and the ring of loungers about
the glowing stove with a soft radiance. This light glistened, too, on
tarpaulins and oil-skins, on varnished sea-boots and rubber "hips," all
of which garments and other gear hanging in rows looked like whispering
men jostling one another as they listened to the jest and comment that
went around the circle of which Cap'n Abe's stove was the center.
Milt Baker lounged in his favorite place at the tobacco showcase, with
simple Amiel Perdue beside him.
"I guess, Cap'n Abe, you'll haf to reach me another piece o' Brown
Mule," Milt said. "I seem to be all out."
"In more ways than one, Milt, you air out," rejoined the bewhiskered
storekeeper briskly. "You know what the motto of this store is. If you
want to _buy_ tobacco, Milt----"
"Sho, now! can't you be a good feller, Cap'n Abe? 'Mandy'll be in for
her week's buyin' by an' by and she'll pay you," said the disappointed
Milt.
"I dunno will she or not. You've got a bad mem'ry, Milt. And tobacco
ain't good for small boys, anyway----Good evening, 'Liphalet! How be
ye, Cap'n Hand?"
"Wal," said the philosophical Milt Baker, "mebbe I'll have to wait for
another chaw of tobacco till the Christmas tree's hung. 'Liphalet won't
never forgit me, I know."
Milt occupied the throne of local humorist. He thus quickly turned
attention from his own chagrin to the beclouded countenance of the
ex-steward.
"Ye-as," said Cap'n Abe. "'Liphalet ought to be right busy purty soon."
"Le's see," continued Milt, grinning knowingly, "have ye taken that
annual trip of yours to town yet to buy the stuffin' for Santa
Claus's bag on Christmas night, 'Liphalet? The kids ain't goin' to be
disappointed, be they? Ye got more children to buy presents for than
the old woman that lived in a shoe."
"Ha!" ejaculated the rather crabbed Cap'n Joab Beecher, "a man might's
well be a Mormon as to be fixed like 'Liphalet."
"Tell ye what 'tis," rose Washy Gallup's shrill voice, "I sartain sure
wouldn't let no passel of women and young'uns pull my laig for all my
spare change like 'Liphalet's done."
"And that wouldn't take no 'long pull an' a strong pull an' a pull all
together,' now, would it, Washy?" observed Milt, grinning broadly.
Mr. Truitt said not a word. Cap'n Abe, shrewd observer that he was,
shifted the topic of conversation adroitly. He saw no reason for
allowing a good customer to be bullyragged until he was run out of the
store and might be led thereby to take his trade to the Cardhaven shops.
"It does seem," the storekeeper said reflectively, "as though the
children ought to be giv all the good times we can make for 'em at
Christmas. I will allow 'Liphalet's done more than his sheer in that
way since he's lived here on the Shell Road. He's been Santa Claus
ev'ry year, as well as 'dressin' the part,' as them movie actors used
to say. Some of the rest of us might better put our hands in our
pockets an' help.
"It's a pleasure to think," went on Cap'n Abe, "of how children all
over the world 'bout this time o' year are getting ready to hang up
their stockin's for Santa Claus to stuff with goodies an' toys. I've
heard Cap'n Am'zon say----"
He halted in his speech and his jovial face fell. Cap'n Jonah Hand, who
was preparing to endure the expected yarn with such fortitude as he
could summon, was startled by the change of expression that came over
the storekeeper's visage.
"Wal," sighed Cap'n Abe, at last, "we won't talk 'bout that. But it
allus did puzzle me what them poor naked children of 'India's coral
strand,' that they tell about, hang up to get presents in on Christmas
Eve."
"Whatever!" ejaculated Cap'n Hand under his breath. Cap'n Abe's flights
of imagination were mysterious to him.
The conversational tide in the store ebbed and flowed. Mr. Truitt
seized an opportunity to tell the storekeeper quietly that he and Cap'n
Jonah had occasion to confer with him privately. The Shell Road oracle
nodded that he understood, and proceeded to get rid of customers and
loiterers alike at an early hour.
He locked the store door behind Washy Gallup's hooped back, and snuffed
out the window lights. He returned to the counter and held up the flap
of it, motioning Mr. Truitt and Cap'n Jonah to pass through.
"Go right back to the livin' room, 'Liphalet, you an' Cap'n Hand. You
know the way. I'll be right with ye soon's I bank the fire here for the
night. I calc'late we'll have consider'ble of a frost before morning."
The big argand burner over the table filled the comfortable room with
mellow light. The tortoise-shell cat sleeping on a turkey-red cushion
in one of the wide rockers, opened his eyes lazily and yawned at the
visitors.
"Find yourselves cheers, boys, and sit down," called Cap'n Abe's voice
from the store. "Slap Diddimus off'n that cushion, 'Liphalet. He's got
so he thinks he purty nigh owns this craft."
But the ex-steward had a liking for cats. As he had told Cap'n Jonah, a
cat was often his only company. He scooped Diddimus into his arms and,
sitting down in the rocker, held the big, purring, furry animal in his
lap while he swung back and forth.
Cap'n Abe bustled through the living room to the kitchen in the rear,
and they heard him shaking the grate of the range to liven the fire.
A moment later the harsh jangle of the coffee grinder announced his
hospitable intent.
"A mug o' hot coffee won't go bad to-night, boys, afore you go out into
the cold again," said the storekeeper, returning after putting the
coffee-pot on the stove. He settled into his own creaking chair and
reached for the ever-ready knitting on the stand by the window, over
which hung an empty bird cage. The sock he was fashioning could be for
none but his own generous-sized foot. "Wal," he said, smiling broadly
on the other two men, "I can see there's somethin' on both your minds.
Le's have it."
'Liphalet's glum visage lightened with sympathy as he turned to Cap'n
Jonah. "Do you want me, Cap'n Hand, to put this here difficulty o'
yourn before Cap'n Abe?" he asked gently.
"Steam ahead, Truitt," said the captain gruffly. "You've the gift of
gab, and you're a friend."
"The Cap'n," said 'Liphalet, to the storekeeper, "needs advice. I told
him you was the man to come to for it, Cap'n Abe."
The storekeeper, knitting briskly, made a clucking sound with his
tongue to notify his visitors that he modestly disclaimed any desire to
pose as an oracle. Yet his attitude was one of willingness to help if
he could.
"You've lived in this neighborhood longer than I have, Cap'n Abe,"
pursued Mr. Truitt, "although I was born in Cardhaven. You have been
here on the Shell Road for more than twenty years. And endurin' that
time I wouldn't wonder if you had got purty close to an opinion on
Orrin Petty and his wife."
"Hi mighty!" ejaculated Cap'n Abe, "I sh'd say I had," and glanced with
compassion at Cap'n Jonah.
"Cap'n Hand," went on Mr. Truitt, "had good and sufficient reason, so
he says, to expect a welcome and kindness, from Sarah Petty when he
came to live with her. Her father, and naturally Sarah herself, was
under obligation to Cap'n Hand----"
"Belay all that!" interrupted Cap'n Hand. "'Twas a family matter.
Nothin' but what I should have done for John Hand, my own brother, as
I had neither chick nor child myself."
"In the same spirit," Mr. Truitt insisted, "Sarah Petty should have
been willing to help you. Ain't that a fac'?"
"'Twould seem so," admitted Cap'n Jonah.
The storekeeper listened and clicked his needles. "What air you drivin'
at, 'Liphalet? Is it that Orrin and Sarah's made it onpleasant for
Cap'n Hand up there at their house?"
"Whatever!" ejaculated Cap'n Jonah. "And the way they treat that gal,
Pearly, is a sin and shame. I can't stand it!"
"Why don't you get a place of your own, Cap'n Hand, and take Pearly
with you?" asked the storekeeper bluntly. "I guess we could fix it with
the town selectmen. Ev'rybody knows what a tongue Sarah Petty's got and
how parsimonious Orrin is. And Pearly is a good little thing and always
was."
"Why, Mr. Silt," said Cap'n Jonah desperately, and cutting out
'Liphalet as intermediary, "I'll tell you the truth. When I first come
here Sarah and Orrin treated me fair enough. They thought, you see, I
had a fortune."
"Hi-mighty!" exclaimed the storekeeper, a great light dawning on his
face. "Ye don't mean to say----Why! Orrin told us ye had money to burn."
"'Twouldn't make much of a smoke if I burned it all," said Cap'n Jonah
dryly. "No, sir! What little tad I had when I landed here will soon be
gone if I let Sarah Petty take it away from me at the rate she has been
doin'. They're purty nigh convinced now, Sarah and Orrin, that I ain't
a millionaire. Sarah ain't been able to find even a bankbook in my
chist. And the way that woman treats Pearly----"
He went on to tell of how the young girl was made to suffer, as well as
of the indignities heaped upon himself of late, and of the unpleasant
quarters he was made to occupy in a house where there were plenty of
well furnished bedrooms.
Cap'n Abe listened with full appreciation and sympathy. 'Liphalet broke
in to say: "I tell him if he could make them Pettys jest _think_ he was
rich--as they first thought--he could carry things with a high hand.
Make 'em treat Pearly better, too."
"Hi-mighty!" agreed Cap'n Abe. "It's a good p'int an' well taken. Might
be done. Is that what ye want my advice on?"
"Wal," said Cap'n Jonah, "Truitt said you was a great feller for
schemin' out things." But he did not say it very hopefully.
Cap'n Abe smiled broadly. "How fur would you be willin' to go, Cap'n
Hand?" he asked. "I mean how close't could you trim your sails to the
bare bones of truth. Ordinarily I don't believe in lyin'. But if folks
want to fool themselves----"
"That's it!" ejaculated 'Liphalet, eagerly.
"I'd be willin' to go purty far," growled Cap'n Jonah. "Whatever!"
Cap'n Abe had put aside his knitting. He slapped his knee smartly.
"'Nough said!" he ejaculated. "You lemme think it over--_di_-gest it,
as ye might say. I sartain am sorry for your situation, Cap'n Hand, and
I want you to believe that, if wust comes to wust, us fellers along
the Shell Road that's been able to put by a little won't see you lack
none for comforts. Eh, 'Liphalet? Not as long as there's a shot in the
locker."
"That's mighty kind of you," said Cap'n Jonah. "But Sarah Petty an' her
folks, I feel sure, wouldn't ha' been near so well off as they be if
it wasn't for what I done once for her father. And for that reason she
should be decent to me."
"Humph! I allow you air right," said the reflective storekeeper. "Ye
mean to say ye ain't got _nothin'_ but the money ye speak of?"
"Nothin' but some ile sheers--two thousand dollars they cost me--that
a feller bunkoed me with some years ago," replied Cap'n Jonah. "An' I
believe I could have sold them to Orrin Petty when I first come."
"Ye better had," said the ex-steward, darkly. "'Twould ha' sarved him
right."
"No," said Cap'n Jonah. "I'll raise the wind in some other way."
"First of all we'll see if we can't make the Pettys believe you have
got a fortune," Cap'n Abe said, more briskly. "Leave it to me, Cap'n
Hand. I guess we can find some way of overreaching them that tries to
overreach. You come in again soon. I'll have somethin' cooked up for
ye, I don't doubt."