"If you hear him groan, or anything," he said, "jest come to the door
and whistle. Whistle anyway, if you want me. Ain't nobody likely to
come, 'less it's 'Gusty or the Reverend Perley come to ask 'bout John.
If it's a middlin' good-lookin' young woman with a satchel, that's
'Gusty. Don't whistle; tell her I'm out. I'll be back in a jiffy, but
you needn't tell either of them so unless your conscience hurts you TOO
much."

After the Captain had gone Ralph took down a volume of the "Great
Commanders" and sat down in a chair by the table to look it over. He
was smiling over the gaudy illustrations and flamboyant descriptions
of battles, when there was a step on the walk outside and knock at the
door. "Which is it," he thought, "'Gusty or the Reverend?"

Obviously it was Miss Black. She stood on the mica slab that formed the
step and looked up at him as he swung the door open. She had a small
leather bag in her hand, just as the Captain had said she would
have, but it flashed across Mr. Hazeltine's mind that the rest of
the description was not a fair one; she was certainly much more than
"middlin' good-lookin'!"

"Is Captain Hedge in?" she asked.

Now, from his friend's hints, Ralph had expected to hear a rather sharp
and unpleasant voice,--certain disagreeable remembrances of former
encounters with female book agents had helped to form the impression
perhaps,--but Miss Black's voice was mellow, quiet, and rather pleasing
than otherwise.