At dusk two of the crew men came up and made Hunch go home. He spent the evening stretched out on the bed, trying to think. Later he fell asleep, and in the morning, when he awoke, his clothes felt heavy and stiff. After breakfast he went up the beach. The _Dean_ was battered out of shape. Two fragments of the foremast had been cast up on the ice, but the mainmast had disappeared. He stayed until he was sure that the schooner was a total loss, then he returned to his room. A year earlier in Hunch's life such a catastrophe would have set him drinking; but now, while he thought of it for a moment, the idea of a bout in Herve's bar-room with the old crowd of loafers, who would know exactly why he had come, and would, before the night was over, probably know all about his state of mind, did not appeal to him. He could not bring himself to go to Bartlett's; he did not want Jess to see him when he was weak and unable to help himself. But on the second evening after the wreck, Jim Bartlett came up and found him lying on the bed with his clothes on. “Good evening, Hunch,” he said. “Kind of hard luck; ain't it?” “Sit down,” said Hunch. “Thanks, can't stay but a minute. I just wanted to talk to you--you see I've been talking with Jess. She's all broke up about the schooner. 'Most as bad as you are. She thinks a lot of you, Hunch. She says you ain't been 'round.” “No, I ain't yet.” “She says she didn't know whether you was coming or not.” “I dunno's there's much good in seeing her.” “You mean things is different?” “It don't make much difference what I mean.” Jim's face was not very sympathetic, and Hunch was not in a mood to open his heart. “Well--I'll be square, Hunch--it's as much what I think as what she thinks--but she can't help thinking--well, you see how it is yourself, Hunch. You ain't in just the position you was in before. It's different--it can't help being different.” “What's she want to do?” “Now, don't take it mean, Hunch; but she don't see--and I must say I don't either--that things ought to be just as they was.” “No, I don't s'pose so.” “But you'll come around and see us anyhow, Hunch, won't you, and talk it over. Mebbe Jess won't feel this way.” “No,” said Hunch, “that ain't no use.” Bartlett stood at the door. “I'm sorry you feel this way, Hunch, I--well, I guess there ain't much else to say.” “No, I guess there ain't.” Bartlett went out and closed the door. Hunch lay still for a long time, wondering over the turn of events. Now that it was settled, and in spite of the hurt a strong man feels when the control of his actions is taken away from him, he began to feel a slight sense of relief. Anyway, he had his strength left, and he was free to begin again. CHAPTER XI--STARTING FRESH |BADEAU lost his schooner before Christmas. The day after New Year's he went to Manistee to see Mr. Jackson, whom he found sitting in his office. “Well, Badeau,” he said. “What can I do for you?” “I want a job.” “What can you do?”