"Yes," he said, "you're goin'. Unless, of course, you'd rather stay
here."

"No, I'd rather go, if--if I can take David and the dolls. Can I?"

"Can she, Shadrach?"

Captain Shad, who was pacing the floor, turned savagely.

"What do you ask me that for?" he demanded. "This is your doin's,
'tain't mine. You said it first, didn't you? Yes, yes, let her take the
dolls and cats--and cows and pigs, too, if she wants to. Jumpin' fire!
What do I care? If a feller's bound to be a fool, a little live stock
more or less don't make him any bigger one. . . . Land sakes! I believe
she's goin' to cry again. Don't do that! What's the matter now?"

The tears were starting once more in the girl's eyes.

"I--I don't think you want me," she stammered. "If you did you--you
wouldn't talk so."

The Captain was greatly taken aback. He hesitated, tugged at his beard,
and then, walking over to the child, took her by the hand.

"Don't you mind the way I talk, Mary-'Gusta," he said. "I'm liable to
talk 'most any way, but I don't mean nothin' by it. I like little girls,
same as Zoeth said. And I ain't mad about the jig-tune chair, neither.
Say," with a sudden inspiration; "here we are settin' here and one of
our passengers has left the dock. We got to find that cat, ain't we?