“Well, there's somethin' the matter with him. Somethin' serious. I was swabbin' decks in the barn about eleven o'clock, when he come postin' in, white and shaky, and so nervous he couldn't stand still. Looked as if he had had a stroke almost. I--” “Godfrey scissors! You don't s'pose Heman's comin' back has knocked out his chances for the committee, do you?” “No, sir-ee! 'twan't that. Cy's anxious to be elected and all, but you know his politics are more of a joke with him than anything else. And any rap Heman or Tad could give him would only make him fight harder. And he wouldn't talk politics at all; didn't seem to give a durn about 'em, one way or t'other. No, 'twas somethin' about that letter, the one I forgot so long. He wanted to know why in time I hadn't given it to him when it fust come. He was real ugly about it, for him, and kept pacin' up and down the barn floor and layin' into me, till I begun to think he was crazy. I guess he see my feelin's were hurt, 'cause, just afore he left, he held out his hand and said I mustn't mind his talk; he'd been knocked on his beam ends, he said, and wan't really responsible.” “Wouldn't he say what had knocked him?” “No, couldn't get nothin' out of him. And when he quit he went off toward home, slappin' his fists together and actin' as if he didn't see the road across his bows. Now, you know how cool and easy goin' Whit generally is. I swan to man, Ase! he made me so sorry for him I didn't know what to do.” “Ain't you been up to see him sence?” “No, Ketury was sot on havin' the barn cleaned, and she stood over me with a rope's end, as you might say. I couldn't get away a minute, though I made up more'n a dozen errands at Simmons's and the like of that. You hold on till I sneak into the entry and get my cap and we'll put for there now. I won't be but a jiffy. I'm worried.” They entered the yard of the Cy Whittaker place together and approached the side door. As they stood on the steps Asaph touched his chum on the arm and pointed to the window beside them. The shade was half drawn and beneath it they had a clear view of the interior of the sitting room. Captain Cy was in the rocker before the stove, holding Bos'n in his arms. The child was sound asleep, her yellow braid hanging over the captain's broad shoulder. He was gazing down into her face with a look which was so full of yearning and love that it brought a choke into the throats of the pair who saw it. They entered the dining room. The captain sprang from his chair and, still holding the little girl close against his breast, met them at the sitting-room door. When he saw who the visitors were, he caught his breath, almost with a sob, and seemed relieved. “S-s-h-h!” he whispered warningly. “She's asleep.”