"'Not so busy it'll wreck my nerves keepin' up with my dates,'
says I.'Why?'
"'Can you spare a half-hour or so to come 'round to my office at--well, say two tomorrow afternoon? I've got a little business of my own and I'd like to have you there.Will you come?'
"'Sartin,' I told him.
"'Of course, if you're afraid of the moral leprosy--'
"'I ain't.'
"'Then I'll look for you,' says he, and off he went.I ain't seen him since.He come down along of Winnie S.and I had one of Chris Badger's teams.Now WHAT do you cal'late it all means?""I don't know.I don't know.But I can't think Emily-- Hush!
she's comin'."
Emily entered the room and Captain Obed began philosophically concerning the storm, which he declared was "liable to be a hooter."He went away soon after.At the door, when he and Mrs.Barnes were alone, he whispered, "Ain't changed your mind, have you, Thankful?
About--about what I said to you that day?""Obed, please! You said you wouldn't."
"All right, all right.Well, good night.I'll be around tomorrow to wish you and Emily and the second mate a merry Christmas.Good night, Thankful."After he had gone Thankful and Emily assisted Georgie in hanging up his stocking and preparing for bed.The boy seemed willing to retire, a most unusual willingness for him.His only worry appeared to be concerning Santa Claus, whom he feared might be delayed in his rounds by the storm.
"He'll be soaked, soppin' wet, won't he?" he asked anxiously.
"Oh, he won't mind.Santa Claus don't mind this kind of weather.
He lives up at the North Pole, so folks say.""Yes.Won't the chimney soot all stick to him when he's wet?
He'll be a sight, won't he?"
"Perhaps so, but he won't mind that, either.Now, you go to bed, Georgie, like a good boy.""I'm a-goin'.Say, Aunt Thankful, will the soot come all off on my presents?"They got him into bed at last and descended to the living-room.
The storm was worse than ever.The wind howled and the rain beat.
Emily shivered.
"Mercy! What a night!" she exclaimed."It reminds me of our first night in this house, Auntie.""Does; that's a fact.Well, I hope there's nobody prowlin' around lookin' for a place to put their head in, the way we were then.
I--what's that?"
"What? What, Auntie? I didn't hear anything.""I thought I did.Sounded as if somebody was--and they are!
Listen!"
Emily listened.From without, above the noise of the wind and rain and surf, came a shout.
"Hi!" screamed a high-pitched voice."Hi! Let me in.I--I'm drownin'."Thankful rushed to the door and, exerting all her strength, pushed it open against the raging storm.
"There's nobody here," she faltered.
"But--but there is, Auntie.I heard someone.I--"She stopped, for, out of the drenched darkness staggered a figure, the figure of a man.He plunged across the threshold, tripped over the mat and fell in a heap upon the floor.
Emily shrieked.Mrs.Barnes pulled the door shut and ran to the prostrate figure.
"Who is it?" she asked."Who IS it? Are you hurt?"The figure raised its head.
"Hurt!" it panted."It's a wonder I ain't dead.What's the matter with ye? Didn't you hear me yellin' for you to open that door?"Thankful drew a long breath.
"For mercy sakes!" she cried."Solomon Cobb! WHAT are you doin'
over here a night like this?"
