"Yes, I--" It suddenly occurred to him that his language had been as emphatic as his actions. "Good lord!" he exclaimed. "I forgot. I beg your pardon for that, too. When I lose my temper I am liable to--to make salt water remarks, I'm afraid. And those hens.... Eh? There they are again, hard at it! Will you excuse me while I kill three or four of 'em? You see, I'm in charge of that garden and.... _Get out!_" This last was, of course, another roar at the fowl, who, under the leadership of the rake-helly rooster, were scratching harder than ever in the beds. The captain reached for another missile, but his visitor stepped forward. "Please don't," she begged. "Please don't kill them." "Eh? Why not? They ought to be killed." "I know it, but I don't want them killed--yet, at any rate. You see, they are my hens." "Yours?" The captain straightened up and looked at her. "You don't mean it?" he exclaimed. "Yes, I do. They are mine, or my mother's, which is the same thing. I am dreadfully sorry they got in here. I'll have them out in just a minute. Oh, yes, I will, really." Kendrick regarded her doubtfully. "Well," he said, slowly, "I know it isn't polite to contradict a lady but if you'll tell me _how_ you are goin' to get 'em out without killin' 'em, I'll be ever so much obliged. You can't drive 'em, I know that." "I shan't try. Just wait, I'll be right back." She hurried away, down the path and through the open gate. Captain Sears Kendrick looked after her. Behind and about him the Fair Harbor hens clucked and scratched blissfully. In very little more than the promised minute the young woman returned. She carried a round wooden receptacle--what Cape Codders used to call a "two quart measure"--and, as she approached, she shook it. Something within rattled. The hens, some of them, heard the rattle and ceased their digging. "Come, chick, chick! Come, biddy, biddy, biddy!" called the young woman, rattling the measure. More of the fowl gave up their labors, and looked and listened. Some even began to follow her. She dipped a hand into the measure, withdrew it filled with corn, and scattered a few grains in the path. "Come, biddy, biddy, biddy!" she said again. And the biddies came. Forgetting the possibilities of Judah Cahoon's garden, they rushed headlong upon the golden certainties of those yellow kernels. The young woman retreated along the path, scattering corn as she went, and after her scrambled and pecked and squawked the fowl. Even the sophisticated rooster yielded to temptation and was among the leaders in the rush. The corn bearer and the flock passed through the open gate, along the path beneath the Fair Harbor apple trees, out of sight around the bend. Sears Kendrick was left alone upon the battle ground, amid the dead and wounded young vegetables.