Mr. Solomon Bangs, his shirt-bosom crackling with importance, introduced the Congressman. The latter's address was, so the Item said, “a triumph of oratorical effort.” It really was a good speech, and when it touched upon the simple sacrifice of the men who had given up their lives in the course of what, to them, was everyday work, there were stifled sobs all through the hall. Luther Davis, during this portion of the address, sat with his big hand shading his eyes. Later on, when the speaker was sounding the praises of the man who “alone, forgetful of himself, braved the sea and the storm to save his friends,” those who looked at Captain Eri saw his chair hitched back, inch by inch, until, as the final outburst came, little more than his Sunday shoes was in sight. He had retired, chair and all, to the wings. But they called him to the platform again and, amid--we quote from the Item once more--“a hurricane of applause,” the two heroes were adorned with the watches and the medals. There was a sort of impromptu reception after the ceremony, when Captain Eri, with Mrs. Snow on his arm, struggled through the crowd toward the door. “'Twas great, shipmate, and you deserved it!” declared magnanimous Captain Jerry, wringing his hand. “'Tain't ha'f what you ought to have, Eri,” said Captain Perez. “I haven't said much to thank you for savin' Luther,” whispered Miss Patience, “but I hope you know that we both appreciate what you done and never 'll forgit it.” Ralph and Elsie also shook hands with him, and said some pleasant things. So did many others, Dr. Palmer among the number. Altogether, the journey through the hall was a sort of triumphal progress. “Whew!” gasped the Captain, as they came out into the clear air and the moonlight, “let's hope that's the last of the dime-show bus'ness.” “Eri,” whispered Mrs. Snow, “I'm so proud of you, I don't know what to do.” And that remark was sweeter to the Captain's ears than all those that had preceded it. They turned into the shore road and were alone. It was a clear winter night, fresh, white snow on the ground, not a breath of wind, and the full moon painting land and sea dark blue and silver white. The surf sounded faint and far off. Somewhere in the distance a dog was barking, and through the stillness came an occasional laugh or shout from the people going home from the hall. “Lots of things can happen in a few months, can't they?” said Mrs. Snow, glancing at the black shadow of the shuttered Baxter homestead. “They can so,” replied the Captain. “Think what's happened sence last September. I didn't know you then, and now it seems 's if I'd always known you. John was alive then, and Elsie nor Ralph hadn't come. Perez hadn't met Pashy neither. My! my! Everybody's choosed partners but Jerry,” he chuckled, “and Jerry looked the most likely candidate 'long at the beginnin'. I'm glad,” he added, “that Ralph's made up his mind to stay here. We shan't lose him nor Elsie for a few years, anyhow.”