id not answer immediately. The pair looked each other
straight in the eye.

Then Seth yawned and turned toward the bedroom.

"I'll risk it," he said, curtly. "If I ain't awake by six o'clock I
wish you'd call me. You'll find some spare clay pipes and tobacco on the
mantelpiece by the clock. So long."

He entered the bedroom and closed the door. Mr. Brown stepped over to
the mantel and helped himself to a pipe.

CHAPTER III

MR. BROWN PUTS IN AN APPLICATION

At half past five the lightkeeper opened the bedroom door and peeped
out. The kitchen was empty. There was no sign of Mr. Brown. It took Seth
just four minutes to climb into the garments he had discarded and reach
the open air. His guest was seated on the bench beside the house, one of
the clay pipes in his hand. He was looking out to sea. He spoke first:

"Hello!" he said. "You're up ahead of time, aren't you? It isn't six
yet."

Atkins grinned. "No," he answered, "'tain't! not quite. But sence Ezry
cleared out I've been a kind of human alarm clock, as you might say.
Feelin' all right, are you?"

"Yes, thank you. I say," holding up the pipe and regarding it
respectfully, "is this tobacco of yours furnished by the government?"

"No. Some I bought myself last time I was over to the Center. Why,
what's the matter with it? Ain't it good?"

"Perhaps so."

"Then what made you ask? Ain't it strong enough?"

"Strong enough! You're disposed to be sarcastic. It's stronger than I
am. What do they flavor it with--tar?"

"Say, let's see that plug. THAT ain't smokin' tobacco."

"What is it, then--asphalt?"

"Why, haw! haw! That's a piece of Ezry's chewin'. Some he left when he
went away. It's 'Honest Friend.' 'TIS flavored up consider'ble. And you
tried to smoke it! Ho! ho!"

The young man joined in the laugh.

"That explains why it bubbled so," he said. "I used twenty-two matches,
by actual count, and then gave it up. Bah!" he smacked his lips
disgustedly and made a face: "'Honest Friend'--is that the name of it?
Meaning that it'll stick to you through life, I presume. Water has no
effect on the taste; I've tried it."

"Maybe some supper might help. I'll wash the dinner dishes and start
gettin' it. All there seems to be to this job of mine just now is
washin' dishes. And how I hate it!"

He reentered the kitchen. Then he uttered an exclamation:

"Why, what's become of the dishes?" he demanded. "I left 'em here on the
table."

Brown arose fro