The sentence died away into nothingness. He had taken up the brush
which he used for the blue paint. There was a loose bristle in it.
He pulled this out and one or two more came with it.

"Hu-um!" he mused, absently.

Captain Sam was tired of waiting.

"Come, finish her out, Jed--finish her out," he urged. "What's the
rest of it?"

"I cal'late I'll run along now," said Mr. Bearse, nervously moving
toward the door.

"Hold on a minute," commanded the captain. "Jed hadn't finished
what he was sayin' to you. He generally talks like one of those
continued-in-our-next yarns in the magazines. Give us the
September installment, Jed--come."

Mr. Winslow smiled, a slow, whimsical smile that lit up his lean,
brown face and then passed away as slowly as it had come, lingering
for an instant at one corner of his mouth.

"Oh, I was just tellin' Gabe that the 'this' he was talkin' about
was here now," he said, "and that maybe if he waited a space the
'that' would come, too. Seems to me if I was you, Gabe, I'd--"

But Mr. Bearse had gone.

Captain Hunniwell snorted. "Humph!" he said; "I judge likely I'm