When Uncle Icky rounded the point of marsh land, and headed his skiff for Beaufort, the eyes of the storm-bound fishermen and the other lounging natives gathered at the market wharf quickly espied the familiar patched rag of sail and were filled with wonder as to what could have tempted the old man from his snug Island out into the teeth of the gale. When he sped into the slip, there were many hands ready to grasp the hawser tossed to them by Captain Ichabod, and make it fast to a "punchin." If the loungers had expected to hear something startling, they were doomed to disappointment. He had no time then to stop and gossip with friends. He hurried on, with an air of unaccustomed self-importance on account of the serious nature of his mission. He was in quest of Dr. Hudson, a great-hearted man, who had spent the best years of his life in ministering to the ills of these fisherfolk. They, in their turn, looked upon him with a feeling of grateful fondness, tinctured with awe--so miraculous to them seemed many of his cures. And, too, they honored him for the manner in which he did his duty toward them. Never a night too black, never a storm too high, for him to fare forth for the relief of suffering. Latterly, however, he had felt the weight of work over much, had felt perhaps as well the burden of advancing years. He had so contrived that a young medical graduate opened up a practise in the neighborhood. He had adroitly used the influence of suggestion so diplomatically that most of the chronic cases--those that took comfort in telling of their maladies, in detailing their symptoms to unwilling listeners--had gladly availed themselves of the new treatment offered by the young physician. In this way, the old Doctor was spared a tedious and unnecessary routine of labor, yet was left free for such urgent calls as might come to him. Ichabod found the physician at home, and declared: "Thar's sick folks at my shack what needs ye an' needs ye bad." The doctor was aware that Ichabod's sole companion in the shack was the rooster. Knowing also the Captain's fondness for the Dominick, he was inclined to be suspicious that this call for his services was as a veterinary. "I suppose," he said, "your Shrimp has the pip." Then, of a sudden, he guessed something of the truth. He spoke anxiously. "There hasn't been a wreck, has there?" "Right ye air, Doctor, there has been a fool shipwreck on my oyster rocks. The captain of the ship an' his mate air at the shack this very minute. He's batty as a toad arter swallerin' shot. An' she's outter her haid--leastways she ain't got sense 'nough left ter talk." In answer to questions, Ichabod gave a full narrative of what had occurred, telling all the events in his own quaint fashion, to all of which Doctor Hudson listened with the closest attention. His comment was crisp.