want to stay a spell, until an
assistant's app'inted, I'll undertake to be responsible for your keep.
And if you need some new shoes or stockin's or a cap, or the like of
that, I'll see you get 'em. Further'n that I can't go yet. It's a pretty
poor job for a fellow like you, and if I was you I wouldn't take it."

"Oh, yes, you would," replied Brown, with conviction. "If you were I,
you would take it with bells on. Others may yearn for the strenuous
life, but not your humble servant. As for me, I stay here and 'clean up
around.'"

And stay he did, performing the cleaning up and other duties with
unexpected success and zeal. Atkins, for the first day or two, watched
him intently, being still a trifle suspicious and fearful of his
"substitute assistant." But as time passed and the latter asked no more
questions, seemed not in the least curious concerning his superior, and
remained the same cool, easy-going, cheerful individual whom Seth had
found asleep on the beach, the lightkeeper's suspicions were ended. It
was true that Brown was as mysterious and secretive as ever concerning
his own past, but that had been a part of their bargain. Atkins, who
prided himself on being a judge of human nature, decided that his helper
was a young gentleman in trouble, but that the trouble, whatever
it might be, involved nothing criminal or dishonest. That he was a
gentleman, he was sure--his bearing and manner proved that; but he was
a gentleman who did not "put on airs." Not that there was any reason why
he should put on airs, but, so far as that was concerned, there was no
apparent reason for the monumental conceit and condescension of some
of the inflated city boarders in the village. Brown was not like those
people at all.

Seth had taken a fancy to him at their first meeting. Now his liking
steadily increased. Companionship in a lonely spot like Eastboro
Twin-Lights is a test of a man's temper. Brown stood the test well. If
he made mistakes in the work--and he did make some ridiculous ones--he
cheerfully undid them when they were pointed out to him. He was, for the
most part, good-natured and willing to talk, though there were periods
when he seemed depressed and wandered off by himself along the beach or
sat by the edge of the bluff, staring out to sea. The lightkeeper made
no comment on this trait in his character. It helped to confirm his own
judgment concerning the young fellow's trouble. People in trouble were
subject to fit