ll perfectly distinct.

There was a large building standing on posts fixed in the sand, and
beyond it were wharves and a glimpse of schooners and the sea. Barrels,
a good many barrels, were piled upon the wharves and at the end of the
building. Over the door was the sign, "Hall and Company, Wholesale Fish
Dealers."

This sign of itself was interesting enough. Evidently here was the
place where her stepfather and Captain Gould and Mr. Hamilton had done
business years before. But more interesting still was the group of men
standing on the platform under the sign. There were four of these men,
dressed in clothes and hats which--especially the hats--looked queer and
old-fashioned now. Two of the men Mary-'Gusta recognized, or thought
she did. They were Captain Shadrach and Mr. Hamilton. Much younger they
looked, of course; their hair was not gray and Zoeth wore a beard, while
Shadrach had only a mustache. But, in spite of these things and the
odd clothes they wore, she was sure she recognized them. And, having
recognized them, she also recognized the man in the center of the group
as her stepfather, Captain Marcellus Hall. The fourth man, evidently
younger than the others, a handsome, square-shouldered chap in his
shirtsleeves, she did not know.

She turned the photograph over. On its back was written:

Firm of Hall and Company. Taken August 19th, 1877.
Marcellus Hall
Zoeth J. Hamilton
Edgar S. Farmer
Shadrach B. Gould.

The names were in differing handwritings. Evidently each man had signed
the photograph.

Mary-'Gusta scrutinized the photograph again. Then, with it in her hand,
she descended to the kitchen. Isaiah was sitting in a chair by the stove
reading a newspaper.

"Mr. Chase," said Mary-'Gusta, "who was Edgar S. Farmer?"

If that kitchen chair had been the never-to-be-forgotten piece of
furniture with the music box beneath it and that box had started to
play, Isaiah could not have risen more promptly. He literally jumped
to his feet and the paper flew from his hands. He whirled upon the
questioner.

"What?" he demanded. "What's that you said?"

He was pale, actually pale. Mary-'Gusta was frightened.

"Why--why, I just asked--" she faltered, "I just asked who--who--What
CAN be the matter, Mr. Chase?"

Isaiah waved his hand. "WHAT did you ask?" he demanded.

"I asked--I asked who Edgar S. Farmer was, that's all. I didn't mean--I
didn't know-