I agree not to ask you how old you are, nor why you wear your brand of
whiskers, nor how you like them, nor--nor anything. I agree not to ask
questions at all."

"Humph! but you asked some last night."

"Purely by accident. You didn't answer them. You asked me some, also,
if you will remember, and I didn't answer them, either. Good! We forget
everything and agree not to do it again."

"Ugh! I tell you I ain't done nothin'."

"I know. Neither have I. Let the dead past be its own undertaker, so
far as we are concerned. I'm honest, Atkins, and tolerably straight. I
believe you are; I really do. But we don't care to talk about ourselves,
that's all. And, fortunately, kind Providence has brought us together in
a place where there's no one else TO talk. I like you, I credit you with
good taste; therefore, you must like me."

"Hey? Ho, ho!" Seth laughed, in spite of himself. "Young man," he
observed, "you ain't cultivated your modesty under glass, have you?"

Brown smiled. "Joking aside," he said, "I don't see why I shouldn't, in
time, make an ideal assistant lightkeeper. Give me a trial, at any rate.
I need an employer; you need a helper. Here we both are. Come; it is a
bargain, isn't it? Any brass to be scrubbed--boss?"


Of course, had Eastboro Twin-Lights been an important station, the
possibility of John Brown's remaining there would have been nonexistent.