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The Harbor Master by Theodore Goodridge Roberts
page 47 of 220 (21%)

The skipper was a hard man in many ways, even then. Later, as he became
established in his power, the hardness grew in him with the passing of
every day. But always a tender spot could be found in his heart for
women and children.

"He was to my house last night," he said. "He bust in a windy an' tried
to rob me--aye, an' maybe he done it."

The woman covered her face with her rough, red hands and moaned like a
wounded thing.

"I bain't holdin' it agin' ye," continued the skipper. "I fight wid men,
not women an' childern. I fit Jack Quinn fair an' bate him fair. Let it
be! If ye wants for food, Polly--whenever ye wants for food an'
clothin'--send the word to me. I bes skipper in this harbor--aye, an'
more nor skipper."

He turned then and let himself out into the shrieking storm. Polly Quinn
stared at the door and the children clustered about her and pulled at
her shabby skirts.

"Aye, he tells true," she murmured. "Never a hard word did Mother Nolan
ever have from him. He was a good son to his mother an' the old skipper.
But them as crosses him--the holy saints presarve 'em! Men-folks must be
his dogs or his enemies. He batted me poor Jack nigh to death wid his
big hands."

She turned at last and fed the glowing stove. Then she set about getting
breakfast for herself and the children. There was enough hard bread in
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