"
"Um-hm. . . . Well, I tried on his boots and started to walk
across the wharf in em. . . ."
"Well, what of it? Gracious king! hurry up. What happened?"
"Eh? . . . Oh, nothin' much, only seemed to me I'd had half of my
walk afore those boots began to move."
Captain Hunniwell enjoyed the story hugely. It was not until his
laugh had died away to a chuckle that its application to the bank
situation dawned upon him.
"Umph!" he grunted. "I see. You cal'late that Lute Small will
fill Gus Howes' job about the way you filled those boots, eh? You
may be right, shouldn't wonder if you was, but we've got to have
somebody and we've got to have him now. So I guess likely we'll
let Lute sign on and wait till later to find out whether he's an
able seaman or a--a--"
He hesitated, groping for a simile. Mr. Winslow supplied one.
"Or a leak," he suggested.
"Yes, that's it. Say, have you heard anything from Leander Babbitt
lately?"
"No, nothin' more than Gab Bearse was reelin' off last time he was
in here. How is Phin Babbitt? Does he speak to you yet?"
"Not a word. But the looks he gives me when we meet would sour
milk. He's dead sartin that I had somethin' to do with his boy's
volunteerin' and he'll never forgive me for it. He's the best hand
at unforgivin' I ever saw. No, no! Wonder what he'd say if he
knew 'twas you, Jed, that was really responsible?"
Jed shook his head, but made no reply.
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