“There's a reward for good deeds, Captain Mayo, when you help those who cannot help themselves. I believe what the Bible says about casting bread on the waters. It will return to you some day!” He smiled down on her enthusiasm tolerantly, but he was far from realizing then that this pretty girl, whose eyes were so bright behind her tears, and whose cheeks were flushed with the ardor of her admiration, was speaking to him with the tongue of a sibyl. XIII ~ A CAPTAIN OP HUMAN FLOTSAM O what is that which smells so tarry? I've nothing in the house that's tarry. It's a tarry sailor, down below, Kick him out into the snow! Doo me axna, dinghy a-a-a ma! Doo me ama-day! --Doo Me Ama. Captain Candage growled and complained so persistently during the trip to the main that Mayo expected to be deserted by the querulous skipper the moment the dory's prow touched the beach. But the skipper came dogging at his heels when Mayo set off up the one street of Maquoit. “May I come along with you?” asked the girl at his side. “I can see that you are thinking up some plan. I do Hope I may come!” He gave her his aim for answer. “I haven't been into this port for some time, Captain Candage, but the last trip I made here, as I remember, a man named Rowley, who runs the general store, was first selectman.” “Is now,” grunted the skipper. “They've got into the habit of electing him and can't seem to break off.” When they arrived in front of the store Captain Candage took the lead. “I may as well go in and introduce you, whatever it is you want of him. I know Rufe Rowley as well as anybody ever gets to know him.” Mr. Rowley leaned over his counter and acknowledged the introduction with a flicker of amiability lighting his reserve. But his wan smile faded into blankness and he clawed his chin beard nervously when Mayo informed him that he had invited the evicted folks of Hue and Cry to land on the mainland that day. “As overseer of the poor in this town I can't allow it, Captain Mayo!” “Those people must land somewhere.” “Yes, yes, of course!” admitted Selectman Rowley. “But not here! I'm beholden to the taxpayers.” “And I suppose the officers of all the other towns about here will say the same?” “Yes, yes! Of course.” “Do you still own that old fish-house?” asked the captain, after hesitating for a few moments; “the sardine-canning plant?” “Yes, sir.” “You're not using it now?” “No, sir.” “It isn't paying you any revenue, eh?” “No, sir.” “Then you ought to be willing to let it pretty cheap--month-to-month lease!” “Depends on what I'm letting it for.” “I want to stow those poor people in there till I can arrange further for them, either show the matter up to the state, or get work for them, or something! Will you let me have it?” “No, sir!” declared the selectman, with vigor.