Seth was embarrassed, but not much. “Well,” he admitted, “I don't know's you did say it, come to think of it. What IS your name?” “My name?” “Yes.” “Oh, why--my name is Brown--er--John Brown. Not the gentleman who was hanged, of course; distant relative, that's all.” “Hum! John Brown, hey? What steamer did you fall off of?” “Why--why--I can't seem to remember. That's odd, isn't it?” “Yes, I should say 'twas. Where was she bound?” “Bound? Oh, you mean where was she going?” “Sartin.” “I think--I think she was going to--to. . . . Humph! how strange this is!” “What?” “Why, that I should forget all these things.” The lightkeeper regarded his guest with suspicion. “Yaas,” he drawled slowly, “when you call it strange you ain't exaggeratin' none wuth mentionin'. I s'pose,” he added, after a moment, during which he stared intently at Mr. Brown, who smiled in polite acknowledgment of the stare; “I s'pose likely you couldn't possibly remember what port you hailed from?” “I suppose not,” was the calm reply. Seth rose from the table. “Well,” he observed, “I've been up all night, too, and it's past my bedtime. As I told you, my assistant's left all of a sudden and I'm alone in charge of gov'ment property. I ought to turn in, but--” he hesitated. John Brown also rose. “Mr. Atkins,” he said, “my memory seems to be pretty bad, but I haven't forgotten everything. For instance,” his smile disappeared, and his tone became earnest, “I can remember perfectly well that I'm not a crook, that I haven't done anything to be ashamed of--as I see it--that I'm very grateful to you, and that I don't steal. If you care to believe that and, also, that, being neither a sneak or a thief, I sha'n't clear out with the spoons while you're asleep, you might--well, you might risk turning in.” The lightkeeper did not answer immediately. The pair looked each other straight in the eye. Then Seth yawned and turned toward the bedroom. “I'll risk it,” he said, curtly. “If I ain't awake by six o'clock I wish you'd call me. You'll find some spare clay pipes and tobacco on the mantelpiece by the clock. So long.” He entered the bedroom and closed the door. Mr. Brown stepped over to the mantel and helped himself to a pipe. CHAPTER III MR. BROWN PUTS IN AN APPLICATION At half past five the lightkeeper opened the bedroom door and peeped out. The kitchen was empty. There was no sign of Mr. Brown. It took Seth just four minutes to climb into the garments he had discarded and reach the open air. His guest was seated on the bench beside the house, one of the clay pipes in his hand. He was looking out to sea. He spoke first: “Hello!” he said. “You're up ahead of time, aren't you? It isn't six yet.” Atkins grinned. “No,” he answered, “'tain't! not quite. But sence Ezry cleared out I've been a kind of human alarm clock, as you might say. Feelin' all right, are you?”