He spent the greater part of the afternoon superintending the stowage of the wood and did not go back to the Harbor at all. But he was perfectly certain that he was not missed. The Fair Harbor for Mariners' Women fairly perspired excitement. Caroline Snow, her washing hung upon the lines in the back yard, found time to scurry down the hill and tell Judah the news. The captain had limped up to his room for a forgotten pipe, and when he returned Judah was loaded with it. He fired his first broadside before his lodger entered the barn. "Say, Cap'n Sears," hailed Mr. Cahoon, breathlessly, "do you know who that feller was me and you seen along of Elviry this forenoon? The tall one with the beaver and--and the gloves and the cane? The one I called the Prince of Wales or else a lightnin'-rod peddler? Do you know who he is?" Sears nodded. "Yes," he said, shortly. Judah stared, open-mouthed. "You _do_?" he gasped. "Yes." "You mean to tell me you know he's that--ah--er-what's-his-name--Eg Phillips come back?" "Yes, Judah." "My hoppin' Henry! Why didn't you say so?" "I didn't know it then, Judah. I found it out afterward, when I went up to the house." "Yes--but--but you knew it when you and me was eatin' dinner, didn't you? Why didn't you say somethin' about it then?" "Oh I don't know. It isn't important enough to interfere with our meals, is it?" Judah slowly shook his head. "It's a dum good thing you wan't around time of the flood, Cap'n Sears," he declared. "'Twould have been the thirty-eighth day afore you'd have cal'lated 'twas sprinklin' hard enough to notice. Afore that you'd have called it a thick fog, I presume likely. If you don't think this Phillips man's makin' port is important enough to talk about you take a cruise down to the store to-night. You'll hear more cacklin' than you'd hear in a henhouse in a week--and all account of just one Egg, too," he added, with a chuckle. "Caroline told you he had come, I suppose? Well, what does she think of him?" Judah snorted. "She?" he repeated. "She thinks he's the Angel Gabriel dressed up." He would have liked to discuss the new arrival the remainder of the afternoon, but the captain was not in the mood to listen. Neither was he more receptive or discussive at supper time. Judah wanted to talk of nothing else and to speculate concerning the amount of wealth which Mr. Phillips might have inherited, upon the probable date of the reading of Lobelia's will, upon whether or not the fortunate legatee might take up his residence in Bayport. "Say Cap'n" he observed, turning an inflamed countenance from the steam of dishwashing, "don't you cal'late maybe he may be wantin' to--er--sort of change things aboard the Fair Harbor? He'll be Admiral, as you might say, now, won't he?" "Will he?" "Well--won't he?" "Don't know, Judah. I haven't thrown up my commission yet, you know."