shall change my mind. I believe I
will stay to dinner after all. I'm EVER so much interested in Arizona."

Bailey and the teacher began their long drive home about four o'clock.
The buggy axle had been fixed, and the wind was less violent. Mr. Bangs
was glum and moody. He seemed to be thinking.

"Say, teacher," he said at length, "I'd like to ask a favor of you. If
it ain't necessary, I wish you wouldn't say nothin' about that upsettin'
business to the folks to home. It does sound so dum foolish! I'll never
hear the last of it."

Miss Dawes, who had been in high spirits, now took a moment for
reflection.

"All right!" she said, nodding vigorously. "We won't mention it, then.
We won't tell a soul. You can say that I called at the Atwoods', if you
want to; that will be true, because I did. And we'll have Mrs. Beasley
for our secret--yours and mine--until we decide to tell. It's a bargain,
Mr. Bangs. We must shake hands on it."

They shook hands, and Bailey, looking in her face, thought he never
saw her look so well or as young. She was pretty, he decided. Then he
thought of his own choice of a wife, and--well, if he had any regrets,
he hasn't mentioned them, not even to his fellow-member of the Board of
Strategy.

CHAPTER XVII

THE CAPTAIN REMEMBERS HIS AGE

December was nearly over. Christmas had come. Bos'n had hung up her
stocking by the base-burner stove, and found it warty and dropsical
the next morning, with a generous overflow of gifts piled on the floor
beneath it. The Board of Strategy sent presents; so did Miss Dawes and
Georgianna. As for Captain Cy he spent many evening hours, after the
rest of his household was in bed, poring over catalogues of toys and
books, and the orders he sent to the big shops in Boston were lengthy
and costly. The little girl's eyes opened wide when she saw the stocking
and the treasures heaped on the floor. She sat in her "nighty" amidst
the wonders, books, and playthings in a circle about her, and the
biggest doll of all hugged close in her arms. Captain Cy, who had arisen
at half past five in order to be with her on the great occasion, was at
least as happy as she.

"Like 'em, do you?" he asked, smiling.

"like 'em! O Uncle Cy! What makes everybody so good to me?"

"I don't know. Strange thing, ain't it--considerin' what a hard little
ticket you are."

Bos'n laughed. She understood her "Uncle Cy," and didn't mind being
called a "hard ticket" by him.

"I-