They rolled up a long driveway, very dark and overgrown with trees, and
drew up at the back door of a good-sized two-story house. There was a
light in the kitchen window.

"Whoa, Dan'l!" commanded the Captain. Then he began to shout, "Ship
ahoy!" at the top of his lungs.

The kitchen door opened and a man came out, carrying a lamp, its light
shining full upon his face. It was an old face, a stern face, with white
eyebrows and a thin-lipped mouth. Just such a face as looked on with
approval when the executioner held up the head of Charles I., at
Whitehall. There was, however, a tremble about the chin that told of
infirm health.

"Hello, John!" said Captain Eri heartily. "John, let me make you
acquainted with Mr. Hazeltine, the new man at the cable station. Mr.
Hazeltine, this is my friend, Cap'n John Baxter."

The two shook hands, and then Captain Eri said:

"John, I brought down them barrels for you. Hawkins got 'em here, same
as he always does, by the skin of his teeth. Stand by now, 'cause I've
got to deliver Mr. Hazeltine at the station, and it's gittin' late."

John Baxter said nothing, beyond thanking his friend for the good turn,
but he "stood by," as directed, and the barrels were quickly unloaded.
As they were about to drive out of the yard, Captain Eri turned in his
seat and said:

"John, guess I'll be up some time to-morrow. I want to talk with you