The captain turned his face to the wall and said nothing; but he seemed to be so persistently swallowing something that Fred suspected a secreted bottle, and moved an investigation so suddenly that the captain had not time in which to wipe his eyes. “Hang it, Fred,” said he, rather brokenly; “how _can_ what’s babyish in men whip a full-grown steamboat captain?” “The same way that it whipped a full-grown woolen-mill manager once, I suppose, old boy,” said Macdonald. “Is that so?” exclaimed the captain, astonishment getting so sudden an advantage over shame that he turned over and looked his companion in the face. “Why--how are you, Fred? I feel as if I was just being introduced. Didn’t anybody else help?” “Yes,” said Fred, “a woman; but--you’ve got a wife, too.” Crayme fell back on his pillow and sighed. “If I could only _think_ about her, Fred! But I can’t; whiskey’s the only thing that comes into my mind.” “Can’t think about her!” exclaimed Fred; “why, are you acquainted with her yet, I wonder? _I’ll_ never forget the evening you were married.” “That _was_ jolly, wasn’t it?” said Crayme. “I’ll bet such sherry was never opened west of the Alleghanies, before or----” “_Hang_ your sherry!” roared Fred; “it’s your wife that I remember. _You_ couldn’t see her, of course, for you were standing alongside of her; but the rest of us--well, I wished myself in your place, that’s all.” “Did you, though?” said Crayme, with a smile which seemed rather proud; “well, I guess old Major Pike did too, for he drank to her about twenty times that evening. Let’s see; she wore a white moire antique, I think they called it, and it cost twenty-one dollars a dozen, and there was at least one broken bottle in every----” “And I made up my mind she was throwing herself away, in marrying a fellow that would be sure to care more for whiskey than he did for her,” interrupted Fred. “Ease off, Fred, ease off now; there wasn’t any whiskey there; I tried to get some of the old Twin Tulip brand for punch, but----” “But the devil happened to be asleep, and you got a chance to behave yourself,” said Fred. Crayme looked appealingly. “Fred,” said he, “tell me about her yourself; I’ll take it as a favor.” “Why, she looked like a lot of lilies and roses,” said Fred, “except that you couldn’t tell where one left off and the other began. As she came into the room _I_ felt like getting down on my knees. Old Bayle was telling me a vile story just then, but the minute _she_ came in he stopped as if he was shot.” “He wouldn’t drink a drop that evening,” said Crayme, “and I’ve puzzled my wits over that for five years----” “She looked _so_ proud of _you_,” interrupted Fred with some impatience.