p's a-waiting for you, _that's_ the
way out," said Cap'n Amazon coolly, pointing with his pipestem to the
door. "Come again--when you want to buy anything in Abe's stock. Good
day!"

Lawford halted a moment at the door to look back at the bizarre figure
behind the counter, leaning on the scarred brown plank just as Cap'n
Abe so often did. The amazing difference between the storekeeper's
well remembered appearance and that of his substitute grew more
startling.

As Cap'n Amazon stood there half stooping, leaning on his hairy fists,
the picture rose in Lawford Tapp's mind of a pirate, cutlass in teeth
and his sash full of pistols, swarming over the rail of a doomed ship.
The young man had it in his mind to ask a question about that
wonderfully pretty girl above. But, somehow, Cap'n Amazon did not
appear to be the sort of person to whom one could put even a mildly
impudent question.

The young man walked slowly down the road toward the shore where his
boat was beached. He had no idea that a pair of gray eyes watched him
from that window where he had glimpsed the vision of girlish beauty
only a few minutes before.

The neighborhood was stirring now and Louise had not gone back to bed.
Instead, she dressed as simply as she could until it would be possible
to get at her trunks.

While thus engaged she observed the neighborhood as well as she could
see it from the windows of her chamber. Down the Shell Road, in the
direction of the sea, there were but two or three houses--small
dwellings in wind-swept yards where beach grass was about all the
verdure that would grow.

Across the road from the store, however, and as far as she could see
toward Cardhaven, were better homes, some standing in the midst of
tilled fields and orchards. Sandy lanes led to these homesteads from
the highway. She could see the blunt spire of the Mariner's Chapel.
Yet Cap'n Abe's house and store stood quite alone, for none of the
other dwellings were close to the road.

She set her chamber door ajar and suddenly heard the clash of voices.
The one that seemed nearest to the stair was gruff, but feminine.

"That must be Betty Gallup," thought Louise. "It is nearly six. I'll
go down and interview the lady who Cap'n Abe said ought to sail before
the mast."

The foot of the stairway was in the back entry which itself opened upon
the rear porch. As she came lightly down the stairs Louise saw a
squat, square figure standing in the open do