"If I do," rejoined Tobias grimly, "me and the minister will be ’bout the only ones there that feel that way. This here is going to be a gathering of the vultures, Heppy." "Why, Tobias, how you do talk!" "Yep. The Pottses and their rel’tives are going to gather from far and near to hear the reading of Uncle Jethro’s will. Icivilly Potts would never have writ us if Judge Waddams hadn’t told her to. The Pottses of Batten would like to make the fun’ral and reading of the will a close-corporation affair, I cal’late. But ’tis evident Uncle Jethro must have mentioned others in his last will and testament." "Oh, Tobias!" gasped his sister, clasping her hands. "Yep," he rejoined. "If the old captain left us something, you’ll be getting your wish, won’t you?" "Oh, don’t Tobias!" she cried. "That sounds awful!" "Oh, sugar!" drawled the practical lightkeeper, "we might’s well own to it. We never bothered Uncle Jethro none endurin’ his life. He was here and took pot-luck with us many’s the time. He did seem to like your fishballs an’ biscuit, Heppy. If he hadn’t had prop’ty to watch down there at Batten, I cal’late he might nigh have lived here all the time. So why shouldn’t we have expectations?" "Oh, Tobias!" she murmured. "I am frank to say," the lightkeeper declared, "that I’m going down there to Batten with expectations. Uncle Jethro is dead, and I cal’late to show respect to his memory. If the sermon is long I’ll likely go to sleep during it. But I don’t cal’late to sleep none in Judge Waddams’ office when the will is being read." His perfectly frank acknowledgment shocked Miss Heppy. But that was Tobias Bassett’s way. He gave no hostage to Mrs. Grundy in any particular. No odor of hypocrisy clung to anything he did or said. If he had ever occasion to be untruthful he lied "straight from the shoulder"—without any circumlocution. In his Sunday clothes, however, Tobias o’ Twin Rocks Light was not likely to go to sleep under the dreariest funeral sermon that was ever preached on the Cape. The embrace of the Iron Virgin of the Inquisition could have been little more uncomfortable than that of his Sunday suit.