Captain Pott's Minister Part 35

"You should be happier than you look, then, for your singing is better than a vaudeville show."

"You ain't none too partic'lar about cla.s.sing me, be you?"

"Singing isn't in your line, and if I were you I'd not try it."

"Beth, what's wrong? You don't seem real glad to see me."

"Of course, I'm glad to see you, my dear old sailor Uncle," she said, rising and putting her arms about his neck.

"Thanks, Beth." He choked out the words, for as he looked down he saw the sign of tears in her eyes. "I've been cruising round nigh onto three days, and that's a purty long spell for the land-lubber I'm getting to be."

"Your return was as sudden as your departure, wasn't it?"

"Sudden? What do you mean by that?"

"Just what I say. I was looking for the _Jennie P._ to come into the harbor. Perhaps she came as she went, like the s.h.i.+ps that pa.s.s in the night."

"You see me go out, did you, Beth?"

She nodded. "But I did not see you return."

"I did sort of sneak out. What did you think of me for doing a thing like that?"

"I didn't think very highly of you, if you want the honest truth," she declared, releasing her arms from about his neck.

"You ain't mad, are you, Beth?"

"Don't you think I have a perfect right to get angry? It was the first time you ever left home without telling me good-bye. Should I like that?"

"I never thought of that. But this here cruise was like the proposing to the old maid: unexpected-like. For that reason I wa'n't prepared for saying good-byes." His eyes clouded as he slowly continued, "It's a fact, I never went off afore without telling you good-bye. I don't----"

He stopped and looked down at the girl. She was no longer the child who had clung to him on the eve of departures for long cruises, asking, "Take me 'long, Unca Josi?" She had grown to womanhood! He wondered that the thought had not occurred to him before. And yet, as he continued to gaze, he saw the eager child staring up into his face from the big eyes.

"I cal'late I ain't got no right to expect them partings no more," he faltered.

"Why, Uncle Josiah Pott! I don't like that one little bit."

"You seem so growed up, Beth, and I cal'late you're getting too big----"

"For you to love me?"

"No!" he said vehemently.

"Then, just what do you mean?"

"I don't know." He drew awkwardly back as she approached him, and fumbled his hat till it fell from his fingers. "You're getting to be quite a woman," he observed.

"And you're getting very foolis.h.!.+ Now, you kiss me before I get angry."

He stooped, kissed her hastily, and wiped his lips with the back of his coat-sleeve. He picked up his hat, and began to rub it vigorously with his finger-tips.

"If ever you talk like that again I'll punish you by never giving you another kiss."

"I ain't got no right to expect it, anyway, Beth."

"Uncle Josiah, don't let me hear that again. I want to hear all about your voyage," she demanded as she settled herself on the rocks, and motioned him near her.

"There wa'n't none, that is, none to speak of."

"Oh! But there was, and it must have been the most mysterious of all.

You went in the night, and you came in the night. Did you do all your trading in the night, too, slipping about through the streets in some unknown country with moccasins on your feet, like you once told me about the Chinese?"

She laughed, but the Captain did not catch the restrained note and manner.

"There, now! That's more like it!" he declared, joining in with a cracked laugh. "It seemed afore like I was talking to a young lady I'd never seen. Feel more like I'd got back home with you laughing like that."

"I haven't been indulging much since you went away."

"You ain't?"

"But tell me about your trip."

"You was right on most p'ints, excepting I didn't cruise back in the night."

"Then how did you slip into town so quietly and unseen? I've been sitting on these cold stones for two days looking for you."

"I come back by railroad, and just now was walking over from the station."

"But where did you leave the _Jennie P._? Why didn't you come back with her?"

"I run her into dry-dock down to the city for repairs," he said quietly.

The girl noticed a slight catch in his voice.

"I thought you did all your own repairing."

"I do when there ain't nothing bad wrong."

"You sailed the _Jennie P._ all the way into the city and left it there?"

"Something went wrong with the engine, and I didn't have no time to tinker with her afore I had to come back. Them there gas engines is worse than a team of mules when they get to bucking and balking.

They----"

"Captain Pott! Tell me the truth. Why did you leave your boat in the city docks?"

"For the reason I told you." He was looking away from her.

"Look at me, Uncle Josiah."