," he coaxed, drawing the girl toward him by
the hand he was holding. "Ain't you got a nice kiss for me this fine
mornin'? Don't be scared. I won't bite."

Bos'n looked shrinkingly at Mr. Smith's unshaven cheeks and then at
Captain Cy. The latter's face was absolutely devoid of expression. He
merely nodded.

So Emily kissed one of the bristling cheeks. The kiss was returned full
upon the mouth. She wiped her lips and darted away to her chair by the
table.

"What's your hurry?" inquired the visitor. "Don't I do it right? Been
some time since I kissed a girl--a little one, anyhow," he added,
winking at his host. "Never mind, we'll know each other better by and
by."

He looked on in wondering disgust as Bos'n said her "grace."

"What in blazes!" he burst out when the little blessing was finished.
"Who put her up to that? A left-over from the psalm-singers, is it?"

"I don't know," answered the captain, speaking with deliberation. "I do
know that I like to have her do it and that she shall do it as long's
she's at this table."

"Oh! she shall, hey? Well, I reckon--"

"She shall--AS LONG AS SHE'S AT THIS TABLE. Is that real plain and
understandable, or shall I write it down?"

There was an icy clearness in the captain's tone which seemed to freeze
further conversation on the part of Mr. Smith. He merely grunted and ate
his breakfast in silence. He ate a great deal and ate it rapidly.

Bos'n departed for school when the meal was over. Captain Cy helped her
on with her coat and hood. Then, as he always did of late, he kissed her
good-by.

"Hi!" called Mr. Smith from the sitting room. "Ain't I in on that? If
there's any kisses goin' I want to take a hand before the deal's over."

"Must I?" whispered Bos'n pleadingly. "Must I, Uncle Cy? I don't want
to. I don't like him."

"Come on!" called Mr. Smith. "I'm gettin' over my bashfulness fast.
Hurry up!"

"Must I kiss him, Uncle Cyrus?" whispered Bos'n. "MUST I?"

"No!" snapped the captain sharply. "Trot right along now, dearie. Be a
good girl. Good-by."

He entered the sitting room. His guest had found the Sunday box and was
lighting one of his host's cigars.

"Well," he inquired easily, "what's next on the bill? Anything goin' on
in this forsaken hole?"

"There's a barber shop down the road. You might go there first, I should
say. Not that you need it, but just as a novelty like."

"Humph! I don't know. What's the matter with your razor?"

"Nothin'. At l