"Thank the good Lord," he said, "I can stay b'low 'stead of goin' aloft in this weather. Bein' neighborly and charitable is all right, I don't dispute. But charity begins to home. And by Hannah! that's where Sue Ambrose ought to be this minute." He jumped up so suddenly at this thought that Bo'sun fled again, fearing some domestic catastrophe. His master paid him no heed. He could not sit content with the thought of Miss Sue facing this gale along the sand cliff beyond Tapp Point. There the surfmen's beaten path on the edge of the high bank was often eaten into--bitten out in savage mouthfuls by the wolfish breakers. They would be running high, 'Liphalet knew, with this gale. Whenever he opened the door the drumming of the surf along The Beaches was audible--like an organ accompaniment to the storm. He could see in his mind's eye the small figure in its gray cloak "beating up" against this sizzling tempest. It was getting worse hourly. At sea, with plenty of leeway, 'Liphalet would have considered this storm "just a snifter." With the sound planks of a seaworthy craft under one's feet a man need seldom fear the elements. But so many accidents are likely to happen ashore! It was a long walk to the old shack of Suz Montevedo in any weather--half a mile beyond Tapp's Folly, as the ornate villa of the Salt Water Taffy King was disrespectfully called. The surfmen from the life saving station had no love for that path in an ugly blow like this, or on a dark night in any case. The snow, too, was blinding. "By Hannah!" ejaculated the ex-steward finally, "I wouldn't call Doc Ambrose to cure my dog of fleas. He don't show right good sense--lettin' his sister traipse 'way over there alone. Ugh!" He was at the door again now. "'Tain't fittin' for a cat to be out." Then he proceeded to button himself into a thick pilot coat, tucked his trousers into sea boots, buckled the strap of his southwester under his jaw, and plunged into the seething gale. There was not a soul on the road to The Beaches. The storm was so blinding that he did not seek to cut across lots and so save steps; but kept on along the Shell Road, passing Cap'n Abe's store, which from without and on this particular occasion looked to be anything but the lively spot it usually was. The summer residents had closed their homes and long since gone to other places. All, that is, save the younger Tapps, who occupied their new house on the Point summer and winter. 'Liphalet pressed on along the firm road of well tamped shell, past these dwellings of the wealthy, without hailing or being hailed by anybody. Beyond the high wall and ornate gates of the Tapp estate, on the bare cliff, the full force of the wind-driven sleet struck him "square betwixt the eyes," as 'Liphalet expressed it.