Therefore he kept a sharp outlook for the man from the fish hatchery, and even inquired for him at Cap'n Abe's store. But Helmford had not been seen in the vicinity since the day of his departure from the Petty house. On this storm-pelted morning, however, when most wise folk kept indoors--and glad to have such shelter--Joe Helmford could not be content in his warm and cozy quarters at Mrs. Wetherel's. His present boarding place was much more to his taste--barring Pearl's absence--than the Pettys', save that it was farther from his work. The Wetherels were urban folk, with the conveniences and the personal requirements that go with such environment. The daughters were strictly, however, what Pearl had once called "sour-cranberry old maids"--otherwise spinsters as fixed in their orbits as the planets. Even the presence of a young and marriageable man in the house caused no flutter of their hearts. Their maiden affections had never been in the least awakened. Mrs. Wetherel made Joe very comfortable without any fuss about it, and the "Wetherel girls," so-called, were not unpleasant associates at meal time. Nevertheless, Helmford went around with a countenance almost the equal of 'Liphalet Truitt's. He could not remain indoors on this wretchedly stormy day. In the first place, he was expecting something at the post-office which Noah Coffin should have brought the night before on his stage, locally known, out of compliment to Noah's name, as "the Ark." Helmford had sent for the article in question as soon as Miss Sue had asked him to help decorate the Mariner's Chapel for the Christmas entertainment. Now he plodded through the beating storm in a very different mood from that which he had expected to enjoy when his purchase arrived. "Yes!" and the post-master passed it out to Helmford with: "Christmas gif, Mr. Helmford? They are just pouring in on us. But I doubt if Noah'll make more'n one trip to-day, 'nless this storm breaks. She's purty rough outside, ain't she?" Helmford admitted that "she" was. Nevertheless he did not turn back toward his boarding place; but instead, with the light but bulky box under his arm, he faced the gale and forced his way through it, past the Cardhaven Inn and around the corner into the highway that led to the Shell Road neighborhood. There was nobody on the road, nor did he see anybody at the frost-covered windows as he plodded on. There was no sign of life about the Ambrose cottage; but when he got to Eliphalet Truitt's he saw the doctor's automobile stalled outside the fence. "Can it be that 'Liphalet is ill?" thought Helmford. He turned in at the gate and stamped his feet free of snow on the ex-steward's steps. The kitchen door was unfastened as usual. He peered in and saw the glowing stove and Bo'sun comfortably purring before it. He shouted for 'Liphalet, receiving no answer.