ang from
the truck and held out his hand.

"Johnnie Kendrick!" he shouted. "It's Johnnie Kendrick, I do believe!
Well, I swan to man!"

The young man laughed, and, seizing the captain's hand, shook it
heartily.

"I am glad you do," he said. "If you hadn't swanned to man I should have
been afraid there was more change in Captain Obed Bangs than I cared to
see. Captain Obed, how are you?"

Captain Obed shook his head. "I--I--" he stammered. "Well, I cal'late my
timbers are fairly strong if they can stand a shock like this. Johnnie
Kendrick, of all folks in the world!"

"The very same, Captain."

"And you knew me right off! Well done for you, John! Why, it's all of
twenty odd year since you used to set on a nail keg in my boathouse
and tease me into singing the Dreadnought chanty. I remember that. Good
land! I ought to remember the only critter on earth that ever ASKED me
to sing. Ho! ho! but you was a little towheaded shaver then; and now
look at you! What are you doin' away down here?"

John Kendrick shook his head. "I don't know that I'm quite sure myself,
Captain," he said. "I have some suspicions, of course, but they may not
be confirmed. First of all I'm going over to East Wellmouth; so just
excuse me a minute while I speak to the driver of the bus."

He was hurrying away, but his companion caught his arm.

"Heave to, John!" he ordered. "I've got a horse and a buggy here myself,
such as they are, and unless you're dead sot on bookin' passage in
Winnie S.'s--what did you call it?--bust--I'd be mighty glad to have you
make the trip along with me. No, no. 'Twon't be any trouble. Come on!"

Five minutes later they were seated in the buggy and George Washington
was jogging with dignified deliberation along the road toward East
Wellmouth.

"And why," demanded Captain Obed, "have you come to Wellmouth again,
after all these years?"

Mr. Kendrick smiled.

"Well, Captain Bangs," he said, "it is barely possible that I've come
here to stay."

"To stay! You don't mean to stay for good?"

"Well, that, too, is possible. Being more or less optimistic, we'll hope
that if I do stay it will be for good. I'm thinking of living here."

His companion turned around on the seat to stare at him.

"Livin' here!" he repeated. "You? What on earth--? What are you goin' to
do?"

The passenger's eyes twinkled, but his tone was solemn enough.

"Nothing, very likely," he replied. "That's what I've been doing for
some time.