d dropped in regard
to Rowley's state of mind worried Mayo. His little edifice of hope was
tottering to a fall, but the loss of the _Ethel and May_ meant the last
push and utter ruin. He decided that he was in honor bound to preserve
the schooner for the uses of the men of Hue and Cry, even if it meant
abandonment of the _Conomo_ and going back to fishing. Without that
craft they would be paupers once more.

The _Ethel and May_ sneaked her way into Maquoit harbor--if a schooner
can be said to sneak. A breeze at nightfall fanned her along, and when
her killick went down, the rusty chain groaned querulously from her
hawse-hole.

Mayo rowed ashore and toiled his way up the little street to the widow's
cottage. He was ashamed to meet Polly Candage--ashamed with the feelings
of a strong man who has put out every effort and has failed. But,
somehow, he wanted to feel that sisterly grip of her hand and look down
into those encouraging gray eyes. He remembered that in times past
she had soothed and stimulated him. This time he did not come to her
expecting to get new courage for further effort; he had exhausted all
resources, he told himself. But in his bitter humiliation he needed the
companionship of a true friend--yes, he felt, almost, that she was now
the only friend he had left. His experiences with those whom he had
before looked on as friends had made him feel that he stood alone.

She came running to him in the little parlor, her hands outstretched and
her face alight.

He felt at first sight of her, and his face flushed at thought of his
weakness, that he wanted to put his head on her shoulder and weep.

"You poor boy, things have not been going well!"

He choked, for the caress in her tones touched his heart. He patted her
hands, and she sat down beside him on the old haircloth sofa.

"I've had a terrible week of it, Polly."

Her sweet smile did not waver. The gray eyes stared straight into his.

"I have talked to 'em till my mouth has been parched and my tongue sore,
and God knows my heart is sore. All they do is look at me and shake
their heads. I thought I had friends alongshore--men who believed in
me--men who would take my word and help me. I'll never be fooled again
by the fellows who pat you on the back in sunny weather, and won't lend
you an umbrella when it rains unless you'll leave your watch with 'em
for security. And speaking of the watch," he went on, smiling wistfully,
for her mere presence and