farious work by
the boys from the station. Hitherto, he had been let off with a
reprimand. He was sure that such would now be the case. Nevertheless,
his heart was sore within him, for he knew that the coming of these
servants of Uncle Sam must prevent him from taking away in his sharpie a
whole winter's supply, and more, of fine old Porto Rico molasses--a
treasure trove indeed. For the dwellers on the banks have little butter,
and molasses, when it is to be had, serves in a measure as a substitute,
at every meal.

There was only a short struggle, for the beach-combers offered no
resistance, except at being separated from the precious barrel. The
capture was chiefly an affair for merriment to the men of the coast
guard, and, when they finally loosened their hold of Sandy and the lad,
his son, they were laughing boisterously at the despair on the
countenance of the father and the youngster's look of chagrin.

Then, before a word was spoken and while the men were still roaring with
mirth, Captain Ichabod stepped forth from the shelter of the haw tree.
He seemed to stand a little more erect than was his wont. There was a
twinkle of delight in those kindly eyes, a little dimmed by age. He bore
himself with an air of impressive manliness, despite the burden of his
years. He passed around the group until he stood directly in front of
the beach-comber with the gray hair. For a moment he did not speak, but
stood motionless, gazing steadily at the fellow before him. But,
presently, he raised his hand in a gesture commanding silence. The
laughter of the coast guard ceased on the instant, and the fisherman
spoke:

"Men," he said in a steady voice, evidently weighing each word, "as I
clim over the top o' yonder dune an' come down the slope to the shore I
saw that sharpie with her nose snug-up to the shore. As I came on
further I saw an' read aloud her name--_Roxana Lee_. Right then was the
fust time that name had passed my lips in twenty year. It hurt me to
speak it, fer 'twas that o' the only woman I have ever loved--or ever
lost until just lately. The words was on my lips afore I knowed it. That
woman did not die, pass away like an honest woman, but she ran off with
a low-down beach-comber, whose thieving face I hain't looked upon--like
the name on the stern rail o' yonder boat--fer twenty year, until
to-day. Neither have I spoke his name. Seein' as how so many things has
been a-happenin' here lately that is a-changin' things