let me stay."

As Bailey told Asaph afterwards, Captain Cy blushed until the ends of
the red lapped over at the nape of his neck. However, he bent and kissed
the rosy lips and then quickly brushed his own with his hand.

"Yes, yes," he stammered. "Well--er--good night. Pleasant dreams to you.
See you in the mornin'."

The girl paused at the chamber door. "You won't have to unbutton my
waist now," she said. "This is my other one and it ain't that kind."

The door closed. The captain, without looking at his friends, led the
way to the dining room.

"Come on out here," he whispered. "We can talk better here."

Naturally, they wanted to know all about the girl, who she was and where
she came from. Captain Cy told as much of the history of the affair as
he thought necessary.

"Poor young one," he concluded, "she landed on to me in the rain,
soppin' wet, and ha'f sick. I COULDN'T turn her out then--nobody could.
Course it's an everlastin' outrage on me and the cheekiest thing ever I
heard of, but what could I do? I was fixed a good deal like an English
feller by the name of Gatenby that I used to know in South America. He
woke up in the middle of the night and found a boa constrictor curled on
the foot of his bed. Next day, when a crowd of us happened in, there
was Gatenby, white as a sheet, starin' down at the snake, and it sound
asleep. 'I didn't invite him,' he says, 'but he looked so bloomin'
comf'table I 'adn't the 'eart to disturb 'im.' Same way with me;
the child seemed so comf'table here I ain't had the heart to disturb
her--yet."

"But she said she was goin' to stay," put in Bailey. "You ain't goin' to
KEEP her, are you?"

The captain's indignation was intense.

"Who--me?" he snorted. "What do you think I am? I ain't runnin' an
orphan asylum. No, sir! I'll keep the young one a day or so--or maybe a
week--and then I'll pack her off to Betsy Howes. I ain't so soft as they
think I am. I'LL show 'em!"

Mr. Tidditt looked thoughtful.

"She's a kind of cute little girl, ain't she?" he observed.

Captain Cy's frown vanished and a smile took its place.

"That's so," he chuckled. "She is, now that's a fact! I don't know's I
ever saw a cuter."

CHAPTER VII

CAPTAIN CY PROVES DELINQUENT

A week isn't a very long time even in Bayport. True, there was once a
drummer for a Boston "notion" house who sprained his ankle on the icy
sidewalk in front of Simmons's, and was therefore obliged to remain in
the