"You'd think that would satisfy 'em, wouldn't ye? Well, it didn't! Cap'n Noah Baker was there and he wanted to know this, and that little runt of a Thad Black he wanted to know that--and kept on wantin'. And that brother-in-law of yours, Cap'n Sears, that Joel Macomber, I declare to man if he wan't the wust of all. You'd think _he_ ought to keep quiet about your doin's, wouldn't ye, now? But he didn't. 'Don't ask me, boys,' he says. 'I don't know why Sears quit my house and went to Judah's. We manage to bear up without him somehow,' says he, winkin' to the gang, 'but if you ask me his _reasons_ for goin' _I_ can't tell ye. I presume likely Judah can, though,' he says. 'Well, I can see _one_ reason plain enough,' says I, lookin' right at him." Kendrick burst out laughing. "Did he get the idea, Judah?" he inquired. "Him? Nary a bit. Wanted me to tell him what the reason was. Limpin', creepin' prophets! What did a woman like Sary ever marry him for, anyway, Cap'n? Not that it's any of my business, you understand." "I understand. Well, it wasn't any of mine either, Judah." "No, I presume likely not. But that George Kent, he's a nice young feller, ain't he, Cap'n?" "Seems to be," replied Kendrick. "Um--hm. Come up to me, after the gang had quit havin' their good time, and shook hands nice and chummy and wanted to know how you was. 'Tell the cap'n I'm goin' to come in and see him some day,' he says, 'if you and he want callers.' 'Good land, yes,' says I, 'course we do. Don't stop to call, come right along in.' He's a nice boy that young Kent.... But--but some of these days I'm goin' to _hit_ that Thad Black--hit him with somethin' soft like--like an anvil. If that critter fell overboard I wouldn't heave him no life-preserver. No, sir, by Henry, I'd heave him the sheet anchor. The longer he hung on to that the better 'twould suit _me_." To his sister only did Sears give his reasons for leaving her home. With her he was perfectly frank. "You know why I'm doin' this, Sarah," he said. "Now don't you--honest?" Mrs. Macomber hesitated. "Why, Sears," she faltered reluctantly, "I--I suppose I can guess why you _think_ you're doin' it. But that doesn't make it right for you to do it, really." "Oh, yes, it does. Be sensible, Sarah. Here are you with six children to support and work for, not to mention one boarder and--a husband. The house is crowded, aloft and alow. There isn't a bit of room for me." "Now, Sears, how can you talk so? You've _had_ room here, haven't you?" "Yes, I've had it, plenty of it. But how much room have the rest of you had?" "Why--why, we've had enough. Nobody's complained that I know of." "Good reason why. You wouldn't let 'em, Sarah. And of course you never would complain yourself. But that is only part of it. The real thing is that I will not live on you." "But you pay board." "Stuff and nonsense! How much do I pay in comparison with what it costs to keep me?"