"You hold on, Cap'n Shad! You answer me afore you leave this room. Who's
a fool? I want to know who's a fool."

Captain Shad grinned.

"Well, go up to the post-office and ask some of the gang there," he
suggested. "Tell 'em you'll give 'em three guesses. There, there!" he
added, good-naturedly, pushing the irate Mr. Chase out of the "channel."
"Don't block the fairway any longer. It's all right, Isaiah. You and
me have been shipmates too long to fight now. You riled me up a little,
that's all. Come on, folks."

Two hours later, after Mary had answered the last questions even Captain
Shad could think of, had received answers to all her own, and had
gone to her room for the night, Mr. Hamilton turned to his partner and
observed mildly:

"Shadrach, what made you so dreadful peppery to Isaiah this evenin'? I
declare, I thought you was goin' to take his head off."

The Captain grunted. "I will take it off some time," he declared, "if he
don't keep the lower end of it shut when he'd ought to. You heard what
he said, didn't you?"

"Yes, I heard. That about the Smith boy's good looks, you mean?"

"Sartin. And about Mary-'Gusta's noticin' how good-lookin' he was.
Rubbish!"

"Yes--yes, I know, but Isaiah was only jokin'."