“Not exactly. I doubt if he ever thought of such a thing himself. But some one thought for him--and some one must have supplied the money.” “Well, they say he's to work up in Boston.” “I know. But no one can tell where he works. Captain Whittaker, this is Mr. Atkins's doing--you know it. Now, WHY does he, a busy man, take such an interest in getting this child away from you?” Captain Cy shook his head and smiled. “Teacher,” he said, “you're dead set on taggin' Heman with a mystery, ain't you?” “Miss Dawes,” asked the forgetful Bailey, “when you and me went drivin' t'other day did you find out anything from--” Phoebe interrupted quickly. “Mr. Bangs,” she said, “at what time do we distribute Christmas presents at your boarding house? I suppose you must have many Christmas secrets to keep. You keep a secret SO well.” Mr. Bangs turned red. The hint concerning secret keeping was not wasted. He did not mention the drive again. A little later Captain Cy found Bos'n busily playing with the doll he had given her. The other, her father's gift, was nowhere in sight. “I put her back in the box,” said the child in reply to his question. “She was awful pretty, but I think I'm goin' to love this one best.” The remark seems a foolish thing to give comfort to a grown man, but Captain Cy found comfort in it, and comfort was what he needed. He needed it more as time went on. In January the court gave its decision. The captain's appointment as guardian was revoked. With the father alive, and professedly anxious to provide for the child's support, nothing else was to be expected, so Mr. Peabody said. The latter entered an appeal which would delay matters for a time, two or three months perhaps; meanwhile Captain Cy was to retain custody of Bos'n. But the court's action, expected though it was, made the captain very blue and downcast. He could see no hope. He felt certain that he should lose the little girl in the end, in spite of the long succession of appeals which his lawyer contemplated. And what would become of her then? What sort of training would she be likely to have? Who would her associates be, under the authority of a father such as hers? And what would he do, alone in the old house, when she had gone for good? He could not bear to think of it, and yet he thought of little else.