“I don't know but what I've had all that's good for me.” “Pshaw! A man of your inches? Here now, here's to you!” They drank together, and a little later they drank again. When Mrs. Spencer, a tired, faded out little body, came to the door and said, “Dinner is ready, Ed,” Dick's spirits were soaring amazingly, and his voice had risen to a pitch slightly above the normal. Spencer nodded toward his guest and remarked, “This is Cap'n Smiley, Josie.” “Glad to make your acquaintance,” exclaimed Dick, boisterously, striding forward to shake her hand. “Show the Cap'n to the dining room, will you, Josie?” Spencer said. “I 'll step out and call the boys.” Mrs. Spencer led the way through the short hall to the dining room, where a table was spread for Spencer's eight or ten men (Mc-Glory and the crew were to eat on the _Merry Anne_). Dick, stepping high, followed her, and found himself being presented to a blond young woman with blue eyes and an agreeable expression. “My sister Estelle, Cap'n Smiley,” said Mrs. Spencer. “Glad to meet you,” said Dick, looking so hard at her as they shook hands that she blushed and dropped her eyes. Mrs. Spencer slipped out to the kitchen after the introduction, leaving them to await the men. “You've never been here before?” she ventured. “Never have. Do you live here?” “Yes, I've been with sister four years now.” “Well, say, this is a pretty lonely place for a girl like you. I 'll have to sail around often.” “I guess you will.” “Yes, _ma'am_, you're too pretty for this corner of the woods.” Estelle blushed and shook her head. “But that's the gospel truth, sure as I'm Dick Smiley. And I can see you're too sensible to get mad at any one for telling the truth.” “Oh, Captain, I'm afraid you're a flirt,” simpered Estelle. “Me, flirt? Never. Not on your diamond ear-rings!” “Sh! What would Ed think if he was to come in and hear you talking like that?” Spencer, in truth, was already on the steps; in another moment he came into the room at the head of his men. And Dick, suddenly aware that his tongue was taking liberties with him, shut his lips tight and refused to speak another word throughout the meal. In vain the lumberman rallied him; in vain the men made advances; in vain Estelle, who was waiting on table, threw him glances from behind Spencer's chair or let her hand brush his in passing him the potatoes; from a flushed, talkative man, Dick had turned abruptly into a silent, moody one, and he ate steadily, with eyes for nothing but his food. The meal was nearly over when Spencer, looking around the table, said, “Hello, where's Pete?” “He's busy,” replied one of the men, “said he'd be a little late.” “Well, if he likes his vittles cold, I guess it's his own funeral.” “There he is now, outside there.” At this Spencer pushed back his chair and went to the window. “Hello, there, Pete,” he called. “Ain't you coming to dinner?” “Yes, be right along.”