Cap'n Abe, Storekeeper Part 9

A footstep on the Sh.e.l.l Road announced the approach of somebody from The Beaches. Louise yawned again and was on the point of creeping into bed once more when she descried the figure coming through the fog. She saw only the boots and legs of the person at first; but the fog was fast separating into wreaths which the rising breeze hurried away, and the girl at the window soon saw the full figure of the approaching man--and recognized him.

At almost the same moment Lawford Tapp raised his eyes and saw her; and his heart immediately beat the call to arms. Louise Grayling's morning face, framed by the sash and sill of her bedroom window, was quite the sweetest picture he had ever seen.

It was only for a moment he saw her, her bare and rounded forearm on the sill, the frilly negligee so loosened that he could see the column of her throat. Her gray eyes looked straight into his--then she was gone.

"Actress, or not," muttered the son of the Salt Water Taffy King, "there's nothing artificial about her. And she's Cap'n Abe's niece.

Well!"

He saw the figure on the porch, smoking, and hailed it:

"Hey, Cap'n Abe! Those fishhooks you sold me last evening aren't what I wanted--and there's the _Merry Andrew_ waiting out there for me now.

I want----"

The figure in the armchair turned its head. It was not Cap'n Abe at all!

"Mornin', young feller," said the stranger cordially. "You'll have to explain a leetle about them hooks. I ain't had a chance to overhaul much of Abe's cargo yet. I don't even know where he stows his small tackle. Do you?"

Fully a minute did Lawford Tapp keep him waiting for an answer while he stared at the stranger. He was not a big man, but he somehow gave the impression of muscular power. He was dressed in shabby clothing--s.h.i.+rt, dungaree trousers, and canvas shoes such as sailors work and go aloft in. The pipe he smoked was Cap'n Abe's--Lawford recognized it.

There was not, however, another thing about this man to remind one of the old storekeeper. This stranger was burned to a rich mahogany hue.

Not alone his shaven face, but his bared forearms and his chest where the s.h.i.+rt was left unb.u.t.toned seemed stained by the tropical sun.

Under jet-black brows the eyes that gazed upon Lawford Tapp seemed dark.

His sweeping mustache was black; and such hair as was visible showed none of the iron gray of advancing age in it. He wore gold rings in his ears and to cap his piratical-looking figure was a red bandana worn turbanwise upon his head.

"What's the matter with you, young feller? Cat got your tongue?"

demanded the stranger.

"Well, of all things!" finally gasped Lawford. "I thought you were Cap'n Abe. But you're not. You must be Cap'n Amazon Silt."

"That's who I be," agreed the other.

"His brother!"

"Ain't much like Abe, eh?" and Cap'n Amazon smiled widely.

"Only your voice. That is a little like Cap'n Abe's. Well, I declare!" repeated Lawford, coming deliberately up the steps.

Cap'n Amazon rose briskly and led the way into the store. The fog was clearing with swiftness and a ray of sunlight slanted through a dusty window with sufficient strength to illumine the shelves behind the counter.

"Those boxes yonder are where Cap'n Abe keeps his fishhooks. But isn't he here?"

"He's off," Cap'n Amazon replied. "Up anchor'd and sailed 'bout soon's I come. Been ready to go quite a spell, I shouldn't wonder. Had his chest all packed and sent it to the depot by a wagon. Walked over himself airly to ketch the train. These the hooks, son?"

"But where's he _gone_?"

"On a v'y'ge," replied Cap'n Amazon. "Why shouldn't he? Seems he's been lashed here, tight and fast, for c'nsider'ble of a spell. He and this store of hisn was nigh 'bout spliced. I don't see how he _has_ weathered it so long."

"Gone away!" murmured Lawford.

Cap'n Amazon eyed him with a tilt to his head and possibly a twinkle of amus.e.m.e.nt in his eye. "Young man, what's your name?" he asked bluntly.

Lawford told him. "Wal, it strikes me," Cap'n Amazon said, "that your tops'ls air slattin' a good deal. You ain't on the wind."

"I am upset, I declare!"

"Sure you got the right hooks this time?"

"Yes. I believe so."

"Then if your _Merry Andrew_--what is she, cat-rigged or----"

"Sloop."

"Then if your _Merry Andrew_ sloop'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 subst.i.tute 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, cutla.s.s in teeth and his sash full of pistols, swarming over the rail of a doomed s.h.i.+p.

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 sh.o.r.e 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 Sh.e.l.l Road, in the direction of the sea, there were but two or three houses--small dwellings in wind-swept yards where beach gra.s.s 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 doorway. It was topped by a man's felt hat and was dressed in a loose, shapeless coat and a scant skirt down to the tops of a pair of men's shoes.

Over the shoulder of this queer looking person--of whose s.e.x it was hard to be sure--Louise could see an open letter that was evidently being perused not for the first time.

The hands that held the letter were red and hard and blunt-fingered, but not large. They did not look feminine, however; not in the least.

The light tap of the girl's heels as she stepped on the bare floor at the foot of the stairway aroused this person, who turned, revealing a rather grim, weather-beaten face, lit by little sharp brown eyes that proceeded to stare at Louise Grayling with frank curiosity.

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the woman.

Oh, it was a woman, Louise could now see, although Betty Gallup boasted a p.r.o.nounced mustache and a voice both deep and hoa.r.s.e, while she looked every inch the able seaman she was.

"Humph!" she exclaimed again. "You don't look much like a pirate, that's one comfort!"