The old runabout, rattling in its throat like a dying man, came to a halt beside the two pedestrians. Doctor Ambrose, in a much stained linen duster, peered out at them over a bushy beard. "'Lo, Mr. Helmford," he said. "How are the eels and pollywogs? Isn't that a stranger you have in tow? I'm always drumming up trade," and he shook in his seat with laughter till the springs of the car wheezed again. Cap'n Jonah, looking him over, smiled grimly. "If you've done better than any other medical shark I ever heard of, I'll come to see you about my rheumatics," he said. "But if you air still stickin' to salicylate of sody, I reckon I'll dose myself from my own medicine chist." "You old sea-dogs ought all to write M.D. and D.S. after your names," responded Doctor Ambrose. "I take it you are Cap'n Hand? Make the acquaintance of my sister, Cap'n." The retired mariner's glance had quickly shifted to the woman beside the rough-and-ready country practitioner. She was petite and graceful, and was dressed much more becomingly and more richly than most Cape women are. Her silvering hair was arranged very prettily, each strand laid exactly, and her quiet, cheerful face blushed under the brim of her hat like an old-fashioned rose. "Cap'n Hand, Sue," rumbled on the doctor. The captain bowed in his most courtly way and accepted her neatly gloved hand in his huge brown one, where it settled for a moment like a snowflake on a clod. "I am glad to welcome you among us, Cap'n Hand," Miss Sue said demurely. "We are not alone glad to have a new neighbor, but we are glad to welcome another attendant at the chapel. I have already learned--in fact, Mr. 'Liphalet Truitt told me," and she flushed the deeper--"that you are a church-going man, Cap'n Hand." "Yes, ma'am," said Cap'n Jonah. "I calc'late to turn out for service on Sunday whenever I can. I shall be glad to attend chapel, an' thank you kindly, ma'am." "Hi gorry!" said the doctor suddenly. "Here comes 'Liphalet now--and with a face on him like a gargoyle. I don't know what's got into the fellow lately. Likely he needs a good course of jalap." Mr. Truitt approached with his basket, headed storeward for provisions. 'Liphalet was a brisk, compact figure of a man--neat, light stepping, and with an appearance of deftness. His whole personality and manner bespoke the capable ship's steward. "Mornin', Miss Sue! Mornin', gentlemen!" was his greeting, and he would have passed right along had Doctor Ambrose not halted him with: "You going to do what I advised you, 'Liphalet? If any fellow's liver ever needed a course of sprouts, yours does. For weeks now you've been as sluggish as a frozen stream runnin' uphill. You'd better change your tactics or you won't blow that old fife of yours half the night, as I've been hearin' you, of late." "'Liphalet doesn't play a fife, Sam," said Miss Sue softly. "It's a flute."