“Well, BE a skulk, if you want to!” he declared. “I've set out to see this thing through, and I'm goin' to do it. Only,” he muttered, as he entered the downstairs vestibule, “I wish I didn't feel quite so much as if I was stealin' hens' eggs.” Miss Dawes herself opened the door in response to his knock. “Oh, it's you, Cap'n Whittaker,” she said. “Come in, please.” Captain Cy entered the schoolroom. It was empty, save for the teacher and himself and one little girl, who, seated at a desk, was writing busily. She looked up and blushed a vivid red. The little girl was Bos'n. “Sit down, Cap'n,” said Miss Phoebe, indicating the visitor's chair. “What was it you wanted to see me about?” The captain accepted the invitation to be seated, but he did not immediately reply to Miss Dawes's question. He dropped his hat on the floor, crossed his legs, uncrossed them, and then observed that it was pretty summery weather for so late in the fall. The teacher admitted the truth of his assertion and waited for him to continue. “I--I s'pose school's pretty full, now that cranb'ryin' 's over,” said Captain Cy. “Yes, pretty full.” “Gettin' along first rate with the scholars, I hear.” “Yes.” This was a most unpromising beginning, really no beginning at all. The captain cleared his throat, set his teeth, and, without looking at his companion, dove headlong into the business which had brought him there. “Miss Dawes,” he said, “I--I s'pose you know that Bos'n--I mean Emily there--is livin' at my house and that I'm taking care of her for--for the present.” The lady smiled. “Yes,” she said. “I gathered as much from what you said when we first met.” She herself had said one or two things on that occasion. Captain Cy remembered them distinctly. “Yes, yes,” he said hastily. “Well, my doin's that time wasn't exactly the best sample of the care, I will say. Wan't even a fair sample, maybe. I try to do my best with the child, long as she stays with me, and--er--and--er--I'm pretty particular about her health.” “I'm glad to hear it.” “Yes. Now, Miss Phoebe, I appreciate what you did for Bos'n and me that Sunday, and I'm thankful for it. I've tried to thank--” “I know. Please don't say any more about it. I imagine there is something else you want to say, isn't there?” “Why, yes, there is. I--I heard that Emmie had been kept after school. I didn't believe it, of course, but I thought I'd run up and see what--” He hesitated. The teacher finished the sentence for him. “To see if it was true?” she said. “It is. I told her to stay and write fifty lines.” “You did? Well, now that's what I wanted to speak to you about. Course I ain't interferin' in your affairs, you know, but I just wanted to explain about Bos'n--Emmie, I mean. She ain't a common child; she's got too much head for the rest of her. If you'd lived with her same as I have you'd appreciate it. Her health's delicate.” “Is it? She seems strong enough to me. I haven't noticed any symptoms.”