“Eh? Well, maybe so. Must have been a mighty rank cigarette to smell up the whole premises like this just goin' past a window. Whew! Gosh! no wonder they say them things are rank pison. I'd sooner smoke skunk-cabbage myself; 'twouldn't smell no worse and 'twould be a dum sight safer. Whew! . . . Well, Helen, there's about the kind of hook I cal'late you need. Fifteen cents 'll let you out on that. Cheap enough for half the money, eh? Give my respects to your pa, will ye. Tell him that sermon he preached last Sunday was fine, but I'd like it better if he'd laid it on to the Univer'lists a little harder. Folks that don't believe in hell don't deserve no consideration, 'cordin' to my notion. So long, Helen . . . Oh say,” he added, as an afterthought, “I guess you and Albert ain't been introduced, have ye? Albert, this is Helen Kendall, she's our Orthodox minister's daughter. Helen, this young feller is Albert--er--er--Consarn it, I've asked Cap'n Lote that name a dozen times if I have once! What is it, anyway?” “Speranza,” replied the owner of the name. “That's it, Sperandy. This is Albert Sperandy, Cap'n Lote's grandson.” Albert and Miss Kendall shook hands. “Thanks,” said the former, gratefully and significantly. The young lady smiled. “Oh, you're welcome,” she said. “I knew who you were all the time--or I guessed who you must be. Cap'n Snow told me you were coming.” She went out. Issachar, staring after her, chuckled admiringly. “Smartest girl in THIS town,” he observed, with emphasis. “Head of her class up to high school and only sixteen and three-quarters at that.” Captain Zelotes came bustling in a few minutes later. He went to his desk, paying little attention to his grandson. The latter loitered idly up and down the office and hardware shop, watching Issachar wait on customers or rush shouting into the yard to attend to the wants of others there. Plainly this was Issachar's busy day.