of the head in the general direction of
the Fair Harbor.

His lodger was a trifle surprised.

"Why, I understood Mrs. Berry--Cap'n Isaac Berry's widow--was manager
there," he said.

"Um-hm. So she is, the poll parrot manager. But it's that girl of hers,
that 'Lizabeth Berry, that really handles the ropes. There's a capable
little craft, if you want to know," declared Judah, with emphasis.

He whittled a pipe full of tobacco from the mutilated remnant of a plug,
and continued to expatiate on the capabilities of Miss Berry. According
to him whatever was as it should be within the Fair Harbor boundaries
was due to the young woman's efforts, not to those of her mother.

"It's kind of queer, ain't it, Cap'n Sears," he observed, "how things
average up sometimes. Seems if whoever 'tis works out the course up
aloft sort of fixed 'em that way."

"What's that got to do with the Berrys?"

"Cause it worked that way with them. _You_ knew Cap'n Ike Berry, Cap'n
Sears. Sharp, shrewd, able and all that, but rough and hard as the
broadside of a white-oak plank. Well, he married a woman from down in
the Carolinas somewhere. Her folks was well-off and she was brought up
in cotton wool, as you might say. They wouldn't have nothin' to do with
her after she married Cap'n Ike. He fell in love with her and carried
her off by main strength, as you might say. She'd been treated like a
plaything afore he got her and he treated her that way till he died. She
is soft-spoken, and kind of good-lookin', and polite and all that--but
about as much practical use for bossin' a place like the Fair Harbor as
a--well as a paper umbrella would be in a no'theaster. But 'Lizabeth
now, she's different. She's got her mother's good looks and nice manners
and--and kind of genteelness, you understand, and with 'em she's got her
dad's sense and capableness. She's all right, that girl. Don't you think
so, Cap'n Sears?"

The captain nodded.

"I never met her but that once, Judah," he replied. "She was all right
then, surely."

"I bet you! She's all right most of the time, I guess.... That young
George Kent, he thinks so, they tell me."

"Oh ... does he?"

"Um-hm! He's cruisin' up to the Fair Harbor 'bout every once or twice a
week, 'cordin' to tell. If it ain't to see 'Lizabeth I don't know what
'tis. It might be Queen Elviry he's after, but I have my doubts.... Oh,
say, Cap'n, speakin' of the Harbor reminds me of Judge Knowles. You
ain't been in to se