Captain Sam, a little conscience-stricken, came forward. "Are you
sick, Phin?" he asked. "Is there anything I can do?"

Phineas glowered at him. "Yes," he snarled between his clenched
teeth, "you can mind your own darned business."

Then, turning to the boy who had brought the message, he ordered:
"You get out of here."

The frightened youngster scuttled away and Babbitt, the telegram
rattling in his shaking hand, followed him. The captain, hurrying
to the window, saw him go down the walk and along the road in the
direction of his store. He walked like a man stricken.

Captain Sam turned back again. "Now what in time was in that
telegram?" he demanded. Jed, standing with his back toward him and
looking out of the window on the side of the shop toward the sea,
did not answer.

"Do you hear me?" asked the captain. "That telegram struck him
like a shock of paralysis. He went all to pieces. What on earth
do you suppose was in it? Eh? Why don't you say somethin'? YOU
don't know what was in it, do you?"

Winslow shook his head. "No," he answered. "I don't know's I do."

"You don't know as you do? Well, do you GUESS you do? Jed
Winslow, what have you got up your sleeve?"

The proprietor of the windmill shop slowly turned and faced him.