"I'll fetch the Foam Flake around to the platform, Cap'n," he said.
"You'll want to wait for 'Liz'beth, I presume likely, so take your time
navigatin' them stairs. No, no, I'll walk. I won't get wet. _I_ knew
what was comin'. Aye, aye, sir. I'll fetch the horse. Cal'late the
critter has gnawed off and swallowed two fathoms of fence by this time."
The Foam Flake and the buggy were made fast by the platform when Sears
reached that point. It was raining hard. The greater part of the
audience had already started on their homeward journey, but a few still
lingered, some lamenting the absence of umbrellas and rubbers, others
awaiting the arrival of messengers who had been sent home to procure
those protections. The captain, of course, was awaiting Elizabeth, and
she having to change costume and get rid of make-up, he knew his wait
was likely to be rather lengthy. He did not mind that so much, but he
did not desire to talk or be talked to, so he walked to the dark end of
the platform--the same end, by the way, where George Kent had stood when
pondering his problem before asking advice--and stood there, staring
into the splashy blackness.
The last group left the lighted portals of the hall and started
homeward, exclamations and little screams denoting spots where progress
had been delayed by puddles or mud holes. Mrs. Eldridge, in the ticket
office, packed up her takings, pennies and "shin-plasters," in a
pasteboard box and departed for home. Mr. Tidditt accompanying her as
guard and umbrella holder.
"I'll be back to lock up, Cap'n Sears," called Asaph, reassuringly.
"Stay right where you be. You won't be in my way at all."
For some minutes longer Sears stood there alone on the platform, facing
the dismal darkness and his own dismal thoughts. They were dismal, and
no less so because his common-sense kept prodding him with the certainty
that there was no more reason for discouragement now than there had been
two hours before. The obvious offset to this was the equal certainty
that there had been no more reason for optimism two hours before than at
present. So he stared into the darkness, listened to the splashing
waterspouts, and, for the millionth time at least, eternally condemned
the Old Colony railroad and his luck.
A springy, buoyant step came down the stairs. A voice called from the
doorway:
"Cap'n Kendrick! Cap'n, are you there?"
Sears turned.
"Right here, George," he said.
Kent hastened toward him. His hand was outstretched and his face was
beaming.
"It worked," he exclaimed, eagerly. "It worked in great shape. Cap'n,
you're a brick."
His friend did not, momentarily, catch his meaning.
"Glad you think so, George," he said; "but why are you so sure of it
just now?"
"Why, because if it hadn't been for you I should have, more than likely,
not tried to chop the ice at all."
"Chop the---- Oh, yes, yes; I remember. So you and Elizabeth have made
up, eh?"
"Yes, I.... How on earth did you know she was the one? I didn't tell
you, did I?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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