of the tug, or
perched on its rail, wondered at the vehemence of the captain's attack,
"Moon-faced Baxter," as he was called, having a fair reputation as a
seaman. They knew, too, that Captain Joe was aware of the condition of
Marrows's affairs, for it had been common talk that the bank had loaned
Abram several hundred dollars with the sloop as security on the
captain's own personal inspection. Some of them had even been present
when Mrs. Marrows,--a faded old woman with bleached eyes and a
pursed-up mouth, her shawl hooding her head and pinned close under her
chin with her thumb and forefinger,--had begged Captain Joe to try the
Susie Ann for a few loads until Abram could "ketch up," and had heard
his promise to help her.

But they made no protest. Such outbursts on the captain's part were but
the escaping steam from the overcharged boiler of his indignation.
Underneath lay the firebox of his heart, chock full of red-hot coals
glowing with sympathy for every soul who needed his help. If his safety
valve let go once in a while it was to escape from greater danger.

His long range ammunition exhausted, Captain Joe turned on his heel and
walked aft to where his diving gear was piled, venting his indignation
at every step. This time the outburst was directed to me,--(it was my
weekly inspection at the Ledge).

"Can't jam nothin' into his head, sir. Stubbornest mule 'round this
harbor. Warn't for that wife o' his Abe Marrows would a-been high and
dry long ago. Every time he gits something purty good he goes and fools
it away;--sold his farm and bought that sloop; then he clapped a
plaster on it in the bank to start a cook shop. But the wife's all
right;--only last week she come to me lookin' like she'd bu'st out
cryin',--sayin' the sloop was all they had, and I promised her then I'd
use the Susie, but she never said nothin' 'bout Baxter being in charge,
or I'd stopped him 'fore he loaded her. Well, there ain't no tellin'
what nat'ral born fools like Abe Marrows'll do, but it's something
ornery and criss-cross if Abe Marrows does it. That woman's worked her
fingers off for him, but he'll git her in the poor-house yit,--see if
he don't."

Marrows had heard every word of Captain Joe's outburst, but he made no
answer except to lift his thin elbows and spread his fingers in a
deprecatory way, as if in protest. Baxter maintained a dogged
silence;--the least said in answer the better. Captain Joe Bell was not
a man either to