THE SHADOW OF COMING EVENTS
Cap'n Abe reached for his spectacles and pulled them down upon his nose
to look at his guest through the lenses. Not that they aided his sight
in the least; but the act helped to cover the fact that he was startled.
"Stop here?" he repeated. "Where's your father? Ain't he with you up
to the Inn?"
"No, Cap'n Abe. He is in Boston to-day. But he will sail to-morrow
for a summer cruise with a party for scientific research. I am all
alone. So I came down here to Cape Cod."
Louise said it directly and as simply as the storekeeper himself might
have spoken. Yet it seemed really difficult for Cap'n Abe to get her
meaning into his head.
"You mean you was intendin' to cast anchor here--with _me_?"
"If it is agreeable. Of course I'll pay my board if you'll let me.
You have a room to spare, haven't you?"
"Land sakes, yes!"
"And I am not afraid to use my hands. I might even be of some slight
use," and she smiled at him till his own slow smile responded, troubled
and amazed though he evidently was by her determination. "I've roughed
it a good deal with daddy-prof. I can cook--some things. And I can do
housework----"
"Bet Gallup does that," interposed Cap'n Abe, finally getting his
bearings. "Hi-mighty, ye did take me aback all standin', Niece Louise!
Ye did, for a fac'. But why not? Land sakes, there's room enough,
an' to spare! Ye don't hafter put them pretty han's to housework.
Betty Gallup'll do all that. An' you don't have to pay no board money.
As for cookin'----That remin's me. I'd better git to work on our
supper. We'll be sharp for it 'fore long."
"And--and I may stay?" asked Louise, with some little embarrassment
now. "You are sure it won't inconvenience you?"
"Bless you, no! I cal'late it's more likely to inconvenience _you_,"
and Cap'n Abe chuckled mellowly. "I don't know what sort o' 'roughin'
it' you've done with your pa; but if there's anything much rougher than
an ol' man's housekeepin' down here on the Cape, it must be pretty
average rough!"
She laughed gayly. "You can't scare me!"
"Ain't a-tryin' to," he responded, eying her admiringly. "You're an
able seaman, I don't dispute. An' we'll git along fine. Hi-mighty!
there's Am'zon!"
Louise actually turned around this time to look at the door, expecting
to see the mariner in question enter. Then she said, half doubtfully:
"Do you suppose your brother will object if he does come, Cap'n Abe?"
"Land sakes, no!" the storekeeper quickly assured her. "'Tain't that.
But I cal'lated 'bout soon's Am'zon anchored here I'd cast off moorin's
myself."
"Go away?" Louise demanded.
"Yes. Like poor old Jerry, mebbe," said Cap'n Abe, looking at the
caged bird. "Mebbe I'll be glad to come back again--and in a hurry.
But while Cap'n Am'zon is here I can take a vacation that I've long
hankered for, Niece Louise. I--I got my plans all made."
"Don't for one moment think of changing them on my account," Louise
said briskly. "I shall like Uncle Amazon immensely if he's anything
like you, Cap'n Abe."
"He--he ain't so _much_ like me," confessed the storekeeper. "Not in
looks he ain't. But hi-mighty! I know he'll be as pleased as Punch to
see ye."
"Are you sure of that?"
"Wait till you see how he takes to ye," declared her reassuring uncle.
"Now, lemme git my apern on and set to work on supper."
"Can't I help, Cap'n Abe?"
"In them things?" the storekeeper objected.
"Well--I'll have plenty of house dresses when my trunks come. I left
my checks at the station for a man named Perry Baker. They said he'd
bring them over to-night."
"He will," Cap'n Abe assured her. But he stopped a moment, stock-still
in the middle of the room, and stared at her unseeingly. Evidently his
mind was fixed upon an idea suddenly suggested by her speech. "He
will," he repeated. Then:
"I'll get the fat kettle over an' the fry-cage ready. Amiel brought me
a likely cod. 'Tain't been out o' the water two hours."
"I love fish," confessed Louise, following him to the kitchen door.
"Lucky you do, if you're going to stay a spell on Cape Cod. For that's
what you'll eat mornin', noon, and night. Fish and clams, an' mebbe a
pot o' baked beans on a Saturday, or a chicken for Sunday's dinner. I
don't git much time to cook fancy."
"But can't this woman who comes to do the work cook for you?"
"She can't cook for me," snorted Cap'n Abe. "I respect my stomach too
much to eat after Bet Gallup. She's as good a man afore the mast as
airy feller in Cardhaven. An' that's where she'd oughter be. But
never let her in the galley."
"Oh, well," Louise said cheerfully. "I'm a dab at camp cooking myself,
as I told you. Uncle Amazon and I will make out--if he comes."
"Oh! Ah! 'Hem!" said Cap'n Abe, clearing his throat. He stooped to
pick up a dropped potlid and came up very red in the face. "You
needn't borrow any trouble on that score, Cap'n Am'zon's as good a cook
as I be."
Only twice did Cap'n Abe make forced trips into the shop. The supper
hour of Cardhaven was well established and the thoughtful housewives
did not seek to make purchases while the fat was hot in Cap'n Abe's
skillet. One of these untimely customers was a wandering child with a
penny. "I might have waited on him, Cap'n Abe," Louise declared.
"Land sakes! so you might," the storekeeper agreed. "Though if he'd
seen you behind my counter I reckon that young 'un of 'Liathel
Grummet's would have been struck dumber than nature made him in the
fust place."
The other customer was a gangling, half-grown youth after a ball of
seine twine and the girl heard him say in a shocked whisper to Cap'n
Abe:
"Say! is it true there's one o' them movin' picture actresses goin' to
stop here with you, Cap'n Abe? Ma heard so."
"You tell your ma," Cap'n Abe said sternly, "that if she keeps on
stretchin' her ears that a-way, she'll hear the kambuoy over Bartell
Shoals in a dead calm!"
Cap'n Abe's bald poll began to shine with minute beads of perspiration.
He looked over the bib of his voluminous apron like a bewhiskered gnome
very busy at some mysterious task. Louise noticed that his movements
about the kitchen were remarkably deft.
"All hands called!" he called out at length. "I'm about to dish up."
"Shall I put on another plate, Cap'n Abe? You expected somebody else
to supper?"
"Nope. All set. I'm always ready for a messmate; but 'tain't often
one boards me 'cept Cap'n Joab now and then. His woman likes to git
him out from under foot. You see, when a woman's been useter seein'
her husband only 'twixt v'y'ges for forty year, I 'spect 'tis something
of a cross to have him litterin' up the house ev'ry day," he confessed.
"But as I can't leave the shop myself to go visitin' much in return,
Joab acks offish. We Silts was always bred to be hospitable. Poor or
rich, we could share what we had with another. So I keep an extry
plate on the table.
"I've had occasion," pursued the philosophical storekeeper, drawing up
his own chair across the table from the girl, "to be at some folks'
houses at meal time and had 'em ask me to set up and have a bite. But
it never looked to me as if they meant it 'nless there was already an
extry plate there.
"Just like having a spare bedroom. If you can say: 'Stay all night, we
got a room for ye,' then that's what I call hospitality. I wouldn't
live in a house that warn't big enough to have at least one spare room."
"I believe I must be very welcome here, Cap'n Abe," Louise said,
smiling at the kindly old man.
"Land sakes, I sh'd hope ye felt so!" ejaculated Cap'n Abe. "Now, if
you don't mind, Niece Louise." He dropped his head suddenly and closed
his eyes in reverence. "For what we are about to partake of, Lord,
make us duly thankful. Amen!" His countenance became animated again.
"Try them biscuit. I made 'em this morning 'twixt Marcy Coe selectin'
that piece of gingham for a new dress and John Peckham buying cordage
for his smack. But they warmed up right nice in the oven."
Meanwhile he heaped her plate with codfish and fried potatoes cooked to
a delicate brown. There was good butter, fat doughnuts, and beach-plum
preserve. It was a homely meal but Louise ate it graciously. Already
the air of Cardhaven had sharpened her appetite.
"Lend me your apron," insisted the girl when they had finished, "and I
will wash these dishes."
"I us'ally let them go till Betty Gallup comes in the morning," the
storekeeper said rather ruefully. "It don't look right to me that you
should mess with these greasy dishes jest as we get under way, as ye
might say."
"You must not make company of me, Cap'n Abe," Louise declared. "There,
I hear a customer in the store," and she gave him a little pat on the
shoulder as he delivered the huge apron into her hand.
"I dunno," he said, smiling upon her quizzically, "as I shall really
want to cast off if Cap'n Am'zon _does_ come. Seems to me 'twould be
hi-mighty nice to have a girl like you around the place, Louise."
"Then don't go," she said, briskly beginning to clear off. "_I_
sha'n't mind having two of you for me to boss. Two captains! Think of
it."
"Yes. I know. But I got all my plans laid," he murmured, and then
went slowly into the store.
There seemed to be some briskness in the after-supper trade, and Louise
suspected that it was founded upon the news of her arrival at Cap'n
Abe's store. Several of his rather tart rejoinders reached her ears as
she went from kitchen to livingroom and back again. Finally removing
the apron, her task done, she seated herself with Diddimus in her lap
within the radiance of the lamp and within hearing of all that was said
in the store.
"No. I dunno's I ever did tell ye quite all my business, Joab. Some
things I missed, includin' the list of my relations."
"Yes, I hear tell most of these movin' picture actresses are pretty,
Miz' Peckham. They pick 'em for that puppose, I shouldn't wonder. I
didn't ask her what part she was goin' to play--_if_ any."
"Land sakes, Mandy, she's just got here! I ain't no idee how long
she'll stay. If you think there's any danger of Milt not tendin' to
his clammin' proper whilst she's here you'd better send him on a cruise
with Cap'n Durgin. The _Tryout_ sails for the Banks to-morrow, I
understand."
"No, Washy. That was my A'nt Matildy I went away to help bury ten
years ago. She's still dead--an' this ain't her daughter. This is my
ha'f sister's child, she that was Miriam Card. She got married to a
scientific chap that works for the government, I guess when you write
to Washington for your garden seeds next spring, you better ask about
him, if ye want to know more'n _I_ can tell ye."
"You got it right for once't, Joab. I do expect Cap'n Am'zon. Mebbe
to-night. He may come over from the depot with Perry Baker--I can't
tell. What'll I do with the girl? Land sakes! ain't Cap'n Am'zon just
as much her uncle as _I_ be? Some o' you fellers better stow your
jaw-tackle if Cap'n Am'zon does heave to here. For he ain't no tame
cat, like I told you."
"You back again, Lawford Tapp? Hi-mighty! what you forgot this time?
Fishhooks? Goin' fishin', be you? Wal, in my 'pinion you're throwin'
your hook into unproductive waters around here, as ye might say. Even
chummin' won't sarve ye. _Good_-night!"
After getting rid of this importunate customer, Cap'n Abe closed his
door and put out his store lights--an hour earlier than usual--and came
back to sit down with Louise. His visage was red and determination sat
on his brow.
"I snum!" he emphatically observed. "Cardhaven folks seem bit with
some kind o' bug. Talk 'bout curiosity! 'Hem! I dunno what Cap'n
Am'zon'll think of 'em."
"_I_ think they are funny," Louise retorted, her laughter bubbling up
again.
"Likely it looks so to you," said Cap'n Abe. "They're pretty average
funny I do guess to a stranger, as ye might say. But after you've
summered 'em and wintered 'em for twenty-odd years like I have, land
sakes! the humor's worn hi-mighty thin!"