"Addressin' you! For thunder sakes, who else would I be ad-- . . .
There! there! Now I cal'late you're hintin' that I'm drunk. I ain't."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, indeed. And I ain't out of my head--not yet; though keepin'
company with a Bedlamite may have some effect, I shouldn't wonder. Mr.
John Brown--if that's your name, which I doubt--you listen to me."

"Very well, Mr. Seth Atkins--if that is your name, which I neither doubt
nor believe, not being particularly interested--I'm listening. Proceed."

"You told me last night that you wanted the job of assistant keeper here
at these lights. Course you didn't mean it."

"I did."

"You DID! . . . Well, YOU must be drunk or loony."

"I'm neither. And I meant it. I want the job."

Seth looked at him, and he looked at Seth. At length the lightkeeper
spoke again.

"Well," he said, slowly, "I don't understand it at all, but never mind.
Whatever happens, we've got to understand each other. Mind I don't say
the job's yours, even if we do; but we can't even think of it unless we
understand each other plain. To begin with, I want to tell you that I
ain't done nothin' that's crooked, nor wicked, nor nothin' but what I