d. It washed everything that
wasn't lashed into the scuppers and took one of our smartest men
overboard with it. But there, floatin' in the wash it left behind, was
the dead albatross!"

"Oh, how terrible!" murmured Mrs. Conroth, watching Cap'n Amazon much
as a charmed bird is said to watch a snake.

"Yes, ma'am; tough to lose a shipmate like that, I agree. But that was
only the beginning. Cap'n Hicks pitched the thing overboard himself.
Couldn't ha' got one of the men, mebbe, to touch it. Jim Ledward says:
'Skipper, ye make nothin' by that. It's too late. Bad luck's boarded
us.'

"And sure 'nough it had," sighed Cap'n Amazon, as though reflecting.
"You never did see such a time as we had in gettin' round the Cape.
And we got it good in the roarin' forties, too--hail, sleet, snow,
rain, and lightnin' all mixed, and the sea a reg'lar hell's broth all
the time."

"I beg of you, sir," breathed the lady, shuddering again. Cap'n
Amazon, enthralled by his own narrative, steamed ahead without noticing
her shocked expression.

"One hurricane on top of another--that's what we got. We lost four men
overboard, includin' the third officer, one time and another. I was
knocked down myself and got a broken arm--had it in a sling nine weeks.
We got fever in a port that hadn't had such an epidemic in six months,
and seven of the crew had to be took ashore.

"Bad luck dogged us and the ship. Only, it never touched the skipper
or Tony Spadello--the only two that had handled the albatross. That
is, not as far as I know. Last time I see Cappy Hicks he was carryin'
his cane with the albatross beak for a handle; and Tony Spadello has
made a barrel of money keeping shop on the Bedford docks.

"But birds have an influence in the world, I take it, like other folks.
You wouldn't think, ma'am, how much store my brother Abe sets by old
Jerry yonder."

Aunt Euphemia jumped up with an exclamation of relief. "Louise!" she
uttered as she saw the girl, amusement in her eyes, standing in the
doorway.

CHAPTER XIII

WASHY GALLUP'S CURIOSITY

"I do not see how you can endure it, Louise! He is impossible--quite
impossible! I never knew your tastes were low!"

Critical to the tips of her trembling fingers, Aunt Euphemia sat stiffly
upright in Louise's bedroom rocking chair and uttered this harsh
reflection upon her niece's good taste. Louise never remembered having
seen her aunt so angry before. But she was provoked h