Capn Abe, Storekeeper | Page 3

them, were the very salt
of the earth. Our wanderings were all that kept you from knowing the
old folk before they passed away."
"You tempt me," was all Louise said. Then the conversation lapsed.
It was the day following that the professor was to go to Boston
preparatory to sailing. At the moment of departure his daughter,
smiling, tucked a sealed note into his pocket.
"Don't open it, daddy-prof, till you are out of sight of Cohasset Rocks,"
she said. "Then you will not know where I am going to spend the time
of your absence until it is too late--either to oppose or to advise."
"You can't worry me," he told her, with admiration in his glance. "I've
every confidence in you, my dear. Have a good time if you can."
She watched him down the long platform between the trains. When she
saw him assisted into the Pullman by the porter she turned with a little
sigh, and walked up the rise toward Forty-second Street. She could
almost wish she were going with him, although seaweed and mollusk
gathering was a messy business, and the vessel he sailed in was an
ancient converted coaster with few comforts for womenkind. Louise
Grayling had been hobbled by city life for nearly a year now and she
began to crave new scenes.
There were some last things to do at the furnished apartment they were
giving up. Some trunks were to go to the storehouse. Her own baggage
was to be tagged and sent to the Fall River boat.
For, spurred by curiosity as well as urged by a desire to escape Aunt
Euphemia for a season, Louise was bent upon a visit to Cape Cod. At
least, she would learn what manner of person her only other living

relative was--her mother's half-brother, Captain Abram Silt.
In the train the next day, which wandered like an erratic caterpillar
along the backbone of the Cape, she began to wonder if, after all, she
was displaying that judgment which daddy-professor praised so highly.
It was too early in the season for the "millionaire's special" to be
scheduled, in which those wealthy summer folk who have "discovered"
the Cape travel to and from Boston. Lou was on a local from Fall River
that stopped at every pair of bars and even hesitated at the pigpens
along the right of way.
Getting aboard and getting off again at the innumerable little stations,
were people whose like she had never before seen. And their speech,
plentifully sprinkled with colloquialisms of a salt flavor, amused her,
and sometimes puzzled her. Some of the men who rode short distances
in the car wore fishermen's boots and jerseys. They called the
conductor "skipper," and hailed each other in familiar idioms.
The women were not uncomely, nor did they dress in outlandish
manner. Great is the sway of the modern Catalogue House! But their
speech was blunt and the three topics of conversation most popular
were the fish harvest, clamming, and summer boarders.
"Land sakes! is that you, Em'line Scudder? What sent you cruisin' in
these waters? I thought you never got away from the Haven."
"Good-day, Mrs. Eldredge. You're fairin' well? I just had to come over
to Littlebridge for some fixin's. My boarders will be 'long and I got to
freshen the house up a little."
"You goin' to have the same folks you had last year, Em'line?"
"Oh, yes. They're real nice---for city people. I tell Barzillai----"
"How is Barzillai?"
"Middlin'. His leg ain't never been just right since he was helpin' ice the
Tryout, come two summers ago. You know, one o' them big cakes from

the ice fact'ry fell on him. . . . I tell Barzillai the city folks are a
godsend to us Cape Codders in summer time, now that sea-goin' don't
seem so pop'lar with the men as it useter be."
"I dunno. Some of these city folks don't seem to be sent by the Lord,
but by the other feller!" was the grim rejoinder. "I had tryin' times with
my crowd last summer; and the children with 'em was a visitation--like
the plagues of Egypt!"
Louise was an amused yet observant listener. She began thus early to
gain what these good people themselves would call a "slant" upon their
characters and their outlook on life.
Aside from her interest in her fellow-travelers, there were other things
to engage the girl's attention. New places always appealed to her more
than unfamiliar human beings; perhaps because she had seen so many
of the latter in all quarters of the globe and found so little variety in
their characters. There were good people and bad people everywhere,
Louise had found. Greedy, generous, morose, and laughing; faithful
and treacherous, the quick and the stupid; those likable