Later, when he called them together on the Ledge and gave them the details of the interview,—he never kept anything of this kind from his working force,—he cautioned one and all of them to exercise the greatest patience and good temper toward the new superintendent, whoever he might be, who was promised in a few days, so that nothing might happen which would incur his ill will; reminding them that it would not do for a second superintendent to be disgruntled, no matter whose fault it was, to which Captain Joe sententiously replied:— “All right; let ’em send who they like; sooner the better. But one thing I kin tell ’em, an’ that is that none on ’em can’t stop us now from gittin’ through, no matter how ornery they be.” But of all the happy souls that breathed the air of this lovely autumn day Mrs. Leroy was the happiest. She felt, somehow, that the decision of the committee was a triumph for both Sanford and herself: for Sanford because of his constant fight against the elements, for her because of her advice and encouragement. As the words fell from Sanford’s lips, telling her of the joyful news,—he had found her aboard the yacht and had told her first of all,—her face flushed, and her eyes lighted with genuine pleasure. “What did I tell you!” she said, holding out her hand in a hearty, generous way, as a man would have done. “I knew you would do it. Oh, I am so proud of you, you great splendid fellow!” Then a sudden inspiration seized her. She darted back again to the Ledge in search of Captain Joe, her dainty skirts raised about her tiny boots to keep them from the rough platforms. “Do come and lunch with us, Captain Bell!” she exclaimed in her joyous way. “I really want you, and the ladies would so love to talk to you.” She had not forgotten his tenderness over Betty the morning he came for her; more than that, he had stood by Sanford. The captain stopped, somewhat surprised, and looked down into her eyes with the kindly expression of a big mastiff diagnosing a kitten. “Well, that’s real nice o’ ye, an’ I thank ye kindly,” he answered, his eyes lighting up at her evident sincerity. “But ye see yer vittles would do me no good. So if ye won’t take no offense I’ll kind’er grub in with the other men. Cook’s jes’ give notice to all hands.” As she looked into his eyes her thoughts reverted to that morning in the hospital when the captain’s same sense of the fitness of things had saved her from being established as nurse to the wounded men. She was about to press her request again when her glance fell on Caleb standing by himself a little way off. She turned and walked toward him. But it was not to ask him to luncheon.