it. I may as well fish for the rest of this season!" He regarded Captain
Mayo with eyes in which query was almost wistftul. "Of course, you can
depend on me to see to it that you get your share, sir, just as if you
were aboard."

"I'm going aboard, Captain Candage."

The old man stopped stock still and stared.

"I haven't anything in sight just now. You need help in getting the
thing started right. I'm not going away and leave that gang on your
hands until I can see how the plan works out. I'll go as mate with you."

"Not by a blame sight you won't go as no mate with me," objected
Candage. "You'll go as skipper and I'll be proud to take orders from
you, sir."

They were wrangling amiably on that point when they returned to the
widow's cottage. Polly Candage broke the deadlock.

"Why not have two captains? That will be something brand new along the
coast!"

"The rest of it is brand new enough without that," blurted her father.
"But considering what kind of a crew we've got I guess two captains
ain't any too much! I'll be captain number two and I know enough to keep
my place."

"I do not think you and I will ever do much quarreling again!" smiled
Captain Mayo, extending his hand and receiving Candage's mighty grip.
"I am going to start out a few letters, and I'll go now and write them.
Until those letters bring me something in the way of a job I am with
you, sir."

Captain Candage walked down toward the fish-house with his daughter.
"Polly," he declared, after an embarrassed silence, "I have been all
wrong in your case, girl. Here and now I give you clearance papers. Sail
for home just as soon as you want to. I'm asking no questions! It's none
of my business!"

"My little affairs must always be business of yours, father," she
returned.. "I love you. I will obey you."

"But I ain't giving off no more orders. I ain't fit to command in the
waters where you are sailing, Polly dear. So run along home and be my
good girl! I know you will be!"

"I have changed my mind about going home--just now!" Her eyes met his
frankly. "I have written to Aunt Zilpah to send me some of my clothes.
Father," there was feminine, rather indignant amazement in her tones,
"do you know that there isn't a single woman from Hue and Cry who knows
how to use a needle?"

"I might have guessed it, judging from the way their young ones and men
folk go looking!"

"Do you realize that those children don't even know their A-B-C's?"

"Never