mother. The half-brother, this Mr. Silt--Captain Abram Silt--is the only
individual of that branch of the family left alive, I believe."

"Goodness!" gasped the girl. "What a family tree!"

Again the professor smiled whimsically. "Only a few of the branches.
But they all reach back to the first navigators of the world."

"The first navigators?"

"I do not mean to the Phoenicians," her father said. "I mean that the
world never saw braver nor more worthy sailors than those who called the
wind-swept hamlets of Cape Cod their home ports. The Silts were all
master-mariners. This Captain Abe is a bachelor, I believe. You could
not very well go there."

Louise sighed. "No; I couldn't go there--I suppose. I couldn't go
there----" Her voice wandered off into silence. Then suddenly, almost
explosively, it came back with the question: "Why couldn't I?"

"My dear Lou! What would your aunt say?" gasped the professor.

He was a tall, rather soldierly looking man--the result of military
training in his youth--with a shock of perfectly white hair and a
sweeping mustache that contrasted clearly with his pink, always cleanly
shaven cheeks and chin. Without impressing the observer with his
muscular power. Professor Grayling was a better man on a long hike and
possessed more reserve strength than many more beefy athletes.

His daughter had inherited his springy carriage and even the clean