Glory of Youth | Page 5

tacked up on the
wall, tempted the appetite with its list of sea foods.
Anthony wanted nothing to eat. He ordered coffee, and went into one
of the stalls to drink it.
But a man at one of the tables in the main part of the room wanted
more than coffee. He was a little man in a blue reefer, but he had,
evidently, more than a little appetite. As Anthony sat down, he was just
finishing a bowl of chowder, and was gazing with eyes of hungry
appreciation upon various dishes of fried fish and fried potatoes, of hot
rolls and pickles which were being set before him.
"You'd better have some, doctor," was his hoarse invitation.
"Too tired," said Anthony. "I'll wait till I've had a bath and rub-down
before I eat----"
"What you need," said the little man, between large mouthfuls, "is a
good day's fishin'. You come out to-morrow morning, and we'll catch
some cod."
The doctor's tired eyes brightened. "There's nothing that I'd like better,
captain, but I've got an old man ill of pneumonia, and there's a girl with
appendicitis."
"There you go," said the little man; "if it wasn't a girl with appendicitis,
it would be a kid with the colic, or a lady with a claim to heart trouble.
What you've got to do, doctor, is to cut it all out and come with me."
Anthony shook his head. "Suppose some one had said to you when you
sailed the seas that you could leave the ship----?"
"I shouldn't have left," said the little man, "but I didn't have such a look
as you've got in your eyes. What you need is a good night's sleep, and a
day's fishin'. And you need it now."

Having eaten presently his last morsel, he ordered a piece of pie.
"There's nothing like sea air to blow your brains clear," he stated. "And
when this fog lifts, it'll be fine fishin' weather."
Again the doctor shook his head. "I'd like it, more than a little, but I've
got to stick to my post."
Captain Stubbs began on his pie, and remarked, "The trouble with you
is that you're mixed up with too many wimmen."
Anthony's head went up. "What do you mean?"
"Wimmen," said the little captain, "are bad enough anyhow. But when
you have to handle a lot of wimmen with nerves, then the Lord help
you."
He said it so solemnly that Anthony threw back his head and laughed.
"Now, up at that sannytarium of yours," said the captain, "there's about
ten of them that need to be dipped into the good salt sea and hung up in
the sun to dry, and that's all they need, no coddling and medicine and
operations--but just a cold shock and a warm-up--and a day's fishin'."
And now Anthony did not laugh. "By Jove," he said, "I believe you're
right. I'm going to try some personally conducted parties, and you shall
take them out, captain----"
"Me----?" the captain demanded, incredulously. "Me take those
wimmen out fishin'?"
Anthony nodded. "Yes, once a week. Is it a bargain?"
The captain stood up. "No, it ain't," he said, firmly. "I'll take you and
gladly. But not any of that nervous bunch."
He settled his cap firmly on his head, and went toward the door. Then
he turned. "Some day," he said, "I'm going to ask that Betty child to go
out in my boat."

"Bettina?" Anthony's mind went swiftly to the shadowed room.
"Yes. She's lonesome, and so was her mother. I used to take fish up to
them, and I showed the Betty child how to make chowder."
"She told me," said Anthony. "You're one of her best friends, captain."
"Well, goodness only knows she needs friends," said the little captain,
adding with a significant emphasis which escaped the preoccupied
Anthony, "She needs somebody to take care of her."
Receiving no response, the little man lighted his pipe, buttoned his coat,
and, remarking genially, "Well, you let me know about that day's
fishin'," he steamed out.
After his departure Anthony sat for some time in the deserted room. He
knew that rest and refreshment were waiting for him and he knew that
he needed them, but his mind was weighed down by the problem of
that helpless child in the old house. All through the night as he had
battled for the life of his patient, he had thought of her, who must battle
with the world. He could get her work, of course, but he shrank from
the thought of her pale loveliness set to sordid uses.
With a sudden gesture of resolution, he stood up and drew on his
gloves.
Ten minutes later he was climbing the winding stairway, where the iron
lantern again illumined the darkness.
There