er," to Angy and after she had said
"Good-night, Father," to him, and that they might wake somewhere,
somehow, together with God, saying, "Good-morning, Mother,"
"Good-morning, Father!" And "Fair is the day!"

XVII

THE DESERTER

At dawn the Station was wide-awake and everybody out of bed. Samuel
crept down-stairs in his stocking-feet, his boots in his hand, his eyes
heavy with sleeplessness, and his wig awry. He shivered as he drew close
to the fire, and asked in one breath for a prescription for chilblains
and where might Abe be. Abe's lounge was empty and his blankets neatly
folded upon it.

The sunrise patrol from the east, who had just returned, made reply
that he had met Captain Abe walking along the surf to get up an
appetite for his griddle-cakes and salt pork. Samuel sat down suddenly
on the lounge and opened his mouth.

"Didn't he have enough exercise yist'day, for marcy's sake! Put' nigh
killed me. I was that tired las' night I couldn't sleep a wink. I
declar', ef 't wa'n't fer that fool newspaper a-comin' out ter-night,
I'd go home ter-day. Yer a-gwine acrost, hain't yer, Havens?"

Havens laughed in response. Samuel glowered at him.

"I want home comforts back," he vowed sullenly. "The Beach hain't what
it used ter be. Goin' on a picnic with Abe Rose is like settin' yer
teeth into a cast-iron stove lid covered with a thin layer o' puddin'.
I'm a-goin' home."

The keeper assured him that no one would attempt to detain him if he
found the Station uncomfortable, and that if he preferred to leave
Abraham behind, the whole force would take pleasure in entertaining the
more active old man.

"That old feller bates a phonograph," affirmed the Irishman. "It's good
ter hear that he'll be left anyhow for comp'ny with this storm a-comin'
up."

Samuel rushed to the window, for up-stairs the panes had been too frosty
for him to see out. A storm coming up? The beach did look gray and
desolate, dun-colored in the dull light of the early day, with the
winter-killed grass and the stunted green growth of cedar and holly and
pine only making splotches of darkness under a gray sky which was filled
with scurrying clouds. The wind, too, had risen during the night, and
the increased roar of the surf was telling of foul weather at sea.

A storm threatening! And the pleasant prospect of being shut in at the
beach with the cast-iron Abraham and these husky life-savers for the
remainder of the winter! No doubt Ab