ing with an unusually high-bred woman had insensibly
raised his standards.

Why should he spend a week of his ever-shortening life with such
inferior beings, just for Abraham's sake--for Abraham's sake, and to
bear out a theory of his own, which he had already concluded a mistake?

Abe gave a snort, opened his eyes, and muttered sleepily: "This is what
I call a A No. 1 spree. Naow, ter-morrer--" But mumbling incoherently he
relapsed into slumber, puffing his lips out into a whistling sound.

Samuel reached for a newspaper on the table, folded it into a missile,
and started to fling it into the innocent face of the sleeper. But,
fortunately for Abraham, it was Captain Darby's custom to count ten
whenever seized by an exasperated impulse, and at the ninth number he
regretfully dropped the paper.

Then he began to count in another way. Using the forefinger of his right
hand as a marker, he counted under his breath, "one" on his left thumb,
then after a frowning interval, "two" on his left forefinger, "three" on
the middle digit, and so on, giving time for thought to each number,
until he had exhausted the fingers of his left hand and was ready to
start on the right.

Count, count, went Samuel, until thrice five was passed, and he began to
be confused.

Once more Abe awoke, and inquired if the other were trying to reckon the
number of new wigwags and signals which the Service had acquired since
they had worked for the government; but on being sharply told to "Shet
up!" went to sleep again.

What the projector of the trip was really trying to recall was how many
times that day he had regretted saving Abe from the devastating clutches
of the old ladies.

"Him need hardenin'?" muttered Samuel blackly. "Why, he's harder now 'n
nails an' hardtack!"

Again he ran over on his fingers the list of high crimes and
misdemeanors of which Abe had been guilty.

First,--thumb, left hand,--Abe had insisted on extending their scooter
sail until he, Samuel, had felt his toes freezing in his boots.

Second,--forefinger, left hand,--on being welcomed by the entire force
at Bleak Hill and asked how long they expected to stay, Abe had blurted
out, "A hull week," explaining that Samuel's rule requiring at least
seven days of exile from his wife every six months barred them from
returning in less time.

The keeper was a widower, all the other men bachelors. How could they
be expected to understand? They burst into a guffaw of laught