The network of fine wrinkles at the outer corners of his eyes was scarcely distinguishable. That there was a faint dust of powder upon his face she noted, too.

Judson Bane was far, however, from giving the impression of effeminacy.

Quite the contrary. He looked able to do heroic things in real life as well as in the drama. And as their walk and conversation developed, Louise Grayling found the actor to be an interesting person.

He spoke well and without bombast upon any subject she ventured on.

His vocabulary was good and his speaking voice one of the most pleasing she had ever heard.

So interested was Louise in what Mr. Bane said that she scarcely noticed Lawford Tapp who pa.s.sed and bowed to her, only inclining her head in return. Therefore she did not catch the expression on Lawford's face.

"A fine-looking young fisherman," observed Mr. Bane patronizingly.

"Yes. Some of them are good-looking and more intelligent than you would believe," Louise rejoined carelessly. She had put Lawford Tapp aside as inconsequential.

CHAPTER XII

THE DESCENT OF AUNT EUPHEMIA

It was mid forenoon the following day, and quite a week after Louise Grayling's arrival at Cap'n Abe's store on the Sh.e.l.l Road, that the stage was set for a most surprising climax.

The spirit of gloom still hovered over Betty Gallup in the rear premises where she was sweeping and dusting and scrubbing. Her idea of cleanliness indoors was about the same as that of a smart skipper of an old-time clipper ship.

"If that woman ain't holystonin' the deck ev'ry day she thinks we're wadin' in dirt, boot-laig high," growled Cap'n Amazon.

"Cleanliness is next to G.o.dliness!" quoted Louise, who was in the store at the moment.

"Land sakes!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the captain. "It's next door to a lot of other things, seems like, too. I shouldn't say that Bet Gallup was spillin' over with piety."

Louise, laughing softly, went to the door. There was a cloud of dust up the road and ahead of it came a small automobile. Cap'n Amazon was singing, in a rather cracked voice:

"'_The Boundin' Biller, Captain Hanks, She was hove flat down on the Western Banks_;------"

With a saucy blast of its horn the automobile flashed past the store.

There were two young women in it, one driving. Louise felt sure they were Miss Louder and Miss Noyes, mentioned by Gusty Durgin the day before, and their frocks and hats were all that their names suggested.

"Them contraptions," Cap'n Amazon broke off in his ditty to say, "go past so swift that you can't tell rightly whether they got anybody to the helm or not. Land sakes, here comes another! They're getting as common as sandfleas on Horseneck Bar, and Washy Gallup says that's a-plenty."

He did not need to come to the door to make this discovery of the approach of the second machine. There sounded another blast from an auto horn and a considerable racket of clashing gears.

"Land sakes!" Cap'n Amazon added. "Is it going to heave to here?"

Louise had already entered the living-room, bound for her chamber to see if, by chance, Betty had finished dusting there. She did not hear the second automobile stop nor the cheerful voice of its gawky driver as he said to his fare:

"This is the place, ma'am. This is Cap'n Abe's."

His was the only car in public service at the Paulmouth railroad station and w.i.l.l.y Peebles seldom had a fare to Cardhaven. Noah Coffin's ark was good enough for most Cardhaven folk if they did not own equipages of their own.

When w.i.l.l.y reached around and snapped open the door of the covered car a lady stepped out and, like a Newfoundland after a plunge into the sea, shook herself. The car was a cramped vehicle and the ride had been dusty. Her clothing was plentifully powdered; but her face was not. That was heated, perspiring, and expressed a mixture of indignation and disapproval.

"Are you sure this is the place, young man?" she demanded.

"This is Cap'n Abe Silt's," repeated w.i.l.l.y.

"Why--it doesn't look------"

"Want your suitcase, ma'am?" asked w.i.l.l.y.

"Wait. I am not sure. I--I must see if I----. I may not stay.

Wait," she repeated, still staring about the neighborhood.

As a usual thing, she was not a person given to uncertainty, in either manner or speech. Her somewhat haughty glance, her high-arched nose, her thin lips, all showed decision and a scorn of other people's opinions and wishes. But at this moment she was plainly nonplused.

"There--there doesn't seem to be anybody about," she faltered.

"Oh, go right into the store, ma'am. Cap'n Abe's somewheres around.

He always is."

Thus encouraged by the driver the woman stalked up the store steps.

She was not a ponderous woman, but she was tall and carried considerable flesh. She could carry this well, however, and did. Her traveling dress and hat were just fashionable enough to be in the mode, but in no extreme. This well-bred, haughty, but perspiring woman approached the entrance to Cap'n Abe's store in a spirit of frank disapproval.

On the threshold she halted with an audible gasp, indicating amazement.

Her glance swept the interior of the store with its strange conglomeration of goods for sale--on the shelves the rows of glowingly labeled canned goods, the blue papers of macaroni, the little green cartons of fishhooks; the clothing hanging in groves, the rows and rows of red mittens; tiers of kegs of red lead, barrels of flour, boxes of hardtack; hanks of tarred ground-line, coils of several sizes of cordage, with a small kedge anchor here and there. It was not so much a store as it was a warehouse displaying many articles the names and uses for which the lady did not even know.

The wondrous array of goods in Cap'n Abe's store did not so much startle the visitor, as the figure that rose from behind the counter, where he was stooping at some task.

She might be excused her sudden cry, for Cap'n Amazon was an apparition to shock any nervous person. The bandana he wore seemed, if possible, redder than usual this morning; his earrings glistened; his long mustache seemed blacker and glossier than ever. As he leaned characteristically upon the counter, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, the throat-latch of his shirt open, he did not give one impression of a peaceful storekeeper, to say the least.

"Mornin', ma'am," said Cap'n Amazon, not at all embarra.s.sed. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"You--you are not Captain Silt?" the visitor almost whispered in her agitation.

"Yes, ma'am; I am."

"Captain Abram Silt?"

"No, ma'am; I ain't. I'm Cap'n Am'zon, his brother. What can I do for you?" he repeated. The explanation of his ident.i.ty may have been becoming tedious; at least, Cap'n Amazon gave it grimly.

"Is--is my niece, Louise Grayling, here?" queried the lady, her voice actually trembling, her gaze glued to the figure behind the counter.

"'Hem!" said the captain, clearing his throat. "Who did you say you was, ma'am?"

"I did not say," the visitor answered stiffly enough now. "I asked you a question."

"Likely--likely," agreed Cap'n Amazon. "But you intimated that you was the a'nt of a party by the name of Grayling. I happen to be her uncle myself. Her mother was my ha'f-sister. I don't remember--jest _who'd_ you say you was, ma'am?"

"I am her father's own sister," cried the lady in desperation.