"Then let's start along," said the inventor, stooping to gather up his tools. But he had reckoned without his host, for as he swept them into a jagged piece of sailcloth and prepared to tie up the bundle, Celestina called to him from the window. "Where you goin', Willie?" she demanded. "Up to Zenas Henry's to mend the pump." "But you can't go now," objected she. "It's ten o'clock, an' you ain't had a mouthful of breakfast this mornin'." The little man regarded her blankly. "Ain't I et nothin'?" he inquired with surprise. "No. Don't you remember you got up early to go fishin', an' then you found the pump wasn't workin', an' you've been wrestlin' with it ever since." "So I have!" A sunny smile of recollection overspread the old man's face. "Ain't you hungry?" "I dunno," considered he without interest. "Mebbe I am. Yes, now you speak of it, I will own to feelin' a mite holler. Can't you hand me a snack to eat as I go along?" "You'd much better come in an' have your breakfast properly." "Oh, I don't want nothin' much," the altruist protested. "Just fetch me out a slice of bread or a doughnut. We've got to get at that pump of Zenas Henry's. I'm itchin' to know what's the matter with it." Celestina looked disappointed. "I've been savin' your coffee fur you since seven o'clock," murmured she reproachfully. "That was very kind of you, Tiny," Willie responded with an ingratiating glance into her eyes. "You just keep it hot a spell longer, an' I'll be back. Likely I won't be long." "You've been workin' five hours on your own pump!" "Five hours? Pshaw! You don't say so," mused the tranquil voice. "Think of that! An' it didn't seem no time. Well, it's a-pumpin' now, Celestina." The mild face beamed with satisfaction, and Celestina had not the heart to cloud its brightness by annoying him further. "That's capital!" she declared. "Here's your bread an' butter, Willie. An' here's some apple turnovers fur you, an' Jan, an' Zenas Henry. They'll be nice fur you goin' along in the wagon." Then turning to Jan she whispered in a pleading undertone: "Do watch, Jan, that Willie don't lay that bread down somewheres an' forget it. Mebbe if he sees the rest of you eatin' he'll remember to eat himself. If he don't, though, remind him, for he's just as liable to bring it back home again in his hand. Keep your eye on him!" Jan nodded understandingly, and climbing into the dusty wagon, the three men rattled off over the sandy road. Willie dropped his tools into the bottom of the carriage but the slice of bread remained untouched in his fingers. Now that triumph had brought a respite in his labors he seemed silent and thoughtful. It was not until the Admiral turned in at the Brewster gate that he roused himself sufficiently to observe with irrelevance: "Speakin' about that propeller of yours, Zenas Henry--it must be no end of a temper-rasper."