tilled fields and orchards. Sandy lanes led to these homesteads from
the highway. She could see the blunt spire of the Mariner's Chapel.
Yet Cap'n Abe's house and store stood quite alone, for none of the
other dwellings were close to the road.

She set her chamber door ajar and suddenly heard the clash of voices.
The one that seemed nearest to the stair was gruff, but feminine.

"That must be Betty Gallup," thought Louise. "It is nearly six. I'll
go down and interview the lady who Cap'n Abe said ought to sail before
the mast."

The foot of the stairway was in the back entry which itself opened upon
the rear porch. As she came lightly down the stairs Louise saw a
squat, square figure standing in the open doorway. It was topped by a
man's felt hat and was dressed in a loose, shapeless coat and a scant
skirt down to the tops of a pair of men's shoes.

Over the shoulder of this queer looking person--of whose sex it was
hard to be sure--Louise could see an open letter that was evidently
being perused not for the first time.

The hands that held the letter were red and hard and blunt-fingered,
but not large. They did not look feminine, however; not in the least.

The light tap of the girl's heels as she stepped on the bare floor at
the foot of the stairway aroused this person, who turned, revealing a
rather grim, weather-beaten face, lit by little sharp brown eyes that
proceeded to stare at Louise Grayling with frank curiosity.