ld have remained of all the crowd of idlers, gaping
oilily at the visitor across the top of the rusty stove, had not a shrill
feminine voice been heard outside the store,

"Is Milt Baker there? Ain't none o' you men seen him? Land sakes! he's
as hard to hold as the greased pig on Fourth o' July--an' jest 'bout as
useful."

"Milt," said Cap'n Abe suggestively, "I b'lieve I hear Mandy callin' you."

"I'm a-comin'!--I'm a-comin', Mandy!" gurgled Milt, cognizant of the
girl's gay countenance turned upon him.

"What did you want, miss?" asked Cap'n Abe, as the recreant husband of
the militant Mandy stumbled over his own feet getting out of the store.

Louise bubbled over with laughter; she could not help it. Cap'n Abe's
bearded countenance broke slowly into an appreciative grin.

"Yes," he said, "she does have him on a leadin' string. I do admit
Mandy's a card."

The girl, quick-witted as she was bright looking, got his point almost at
once. "You mean she was a Card before she married him?"

"And she's a Card yet," Cap'n Abe said, nodding. "Guess you know a thing
or two, yourself. What can I do for you?"

"You can say: 'Good-evening, Niece Louise,'" laughed the girl, coming
closer to the counter upon which the storekeeper still leaned.

"Land sakes!"

"My mother was a Card. That is how I came to see your joke, Uncle Abram."

"Land sakes!"

"Don't you believe me?"

"I--I ain't got but one niece in the world," mumbled Cap'n Abe.
"An'--an' I never expected to see _her_."

"Louise Grayling, daughter of Professor Ernest Grayling and Miriam
Card--your half-sister's child. See here--and here." She snapped open
her bag, resting it on the counter, and produced an old-fashioned
photograph of her mother, a letter, yellowed by time, that Cap'n Abe had
written Professor Grayling long before, and her own accident policy
identification card which she always carried.

Cap'n Abe stretched forth a hairy hand, and it closed on Lou's as a
sunfish absorbs its prey. The girl's hand to her wrist was completely
lost in the grip; but despite its firmness Cap'n Abe's handclasp was by
no means painful. He released her and, leaning back, smiled benignly.

"Land sakes!" he said again. "I'm glad to see little Mirry's girl. An'
you do favor her a mite. But I guess you take mostly after the
Graylings."

"People say I am like my father."

"An' a mighty nice lookin' man--an' a pleasant--as I remember him," Cap'n
Abe dec