l you step downstairs with me for a moment?
I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise? What sort of a surprise?"

"Oh, a pleasant one. At least I think it is going to be pleasant for all
of us. But I'm not going to tell you what it is. You must come down and
see for yourself."

She led the way downstairs, the young man following her, wondering what
the surprise might be, and fairly certain it, nor anything else, could
be pleasant on that day.

He supposed, of course, that he must descend to the parlor to reach the
solution of the mystery, but he was mistaken. On the second floor Mrs.
Hepton stopped and pointed.

"It's in there," she said, pointing.

"There" was the room formerly occupied by Mr. Saks, the long-haired
artist. Since his departure it had been vacant. Pearson looked at the
closed door and then at the lady.

"A surprise for me in _there_?" he repeated. "What's the joke, Mrs.
Hepton?"

By way of answer she took him by the arm, and, leading him to the door,
threw the latter open.

"Here he is!" she said.

"Hello, Jim!" hailed Captain Elisha Warren, cheerfully. "Ship ahoy! Glad
to see you."

He was standing in the middle of the room, his hat on the table and his
hands in his pockets.

Pearson was surprised; there was no doubt of that--not so much at the
sight of his friend--he had expected to see or hear from the captain
before the day was over--as at seeing him in that room. He could not
understand what he was doing there.

Captain Elisha noted his bewildered expression, and chuckled.

"Come aboard, Jim!" he commanded. "Come in and inspect. I'll see you
later, Mrs. Hepton," he added, "and give you my final word. I want to
hold officer's council with Mr. Pearson here fust."

The landlady accepted the broad hint and turned to go.

"Very well," she said, "but I do hope for all our sakes that word will
be _yes_, Mr. Warren--Excuse me, it is Captain Warren, isn't it?"

"It used to be, yes, ma'am. And at home it is yet. 'Round here I've
learned to be like a barroom poll-parrot, ready to answer to most
everything. There!" as the door closed after her; "now we can be more
private. Set down, Jim! How are you, anyway?"

Pearson sat down mechanically. "I'm well enough--everything considered,"
he replied, slowly. "But what--what are you in here for? I don't
understand."

"You will in a minute. What do you think of this--er--saloon cabin?"
with a comprehensive sweep of his arm.

The room was of fa