They started for the railway station immediately after supper. As they
passed John Baxter's house they noticed a light in an upper chamber, and
wondered if the old man was ill. Captain Eri would have stopped to find
out, but Captain Perez insisted that it could be done just as well when
they came back, and expressed a fear that they might miss the train.
Captain Jerry hadn't spoken since they left home, and walked gloomily
ahead with his hands in his pockets.

Mr. "Web" Saunders, fat and in his pink-striped shirtsleeves, sat upon
the steps of his saloon as they went by. He wished them an unctuous
good-evening. The oily smoothness of Mr. Saunders' voice cannot be
described with plain pen and ink; it gurgled with sweetness, like
molasses poured from a jug. This was not a special tone put on for the
occasion; no one except his wife ever heard him speak otherwise.

The response from the three captains was not enthusiastic, but Mr.
Saunders continued to talk of the weather, the fishing, and the
cranberry crop until a customer came and gave them a chance to get away.

"Slick! slick! slick!" commented Captain Eri, as they hurried along.
"Blessed if he don't pretty nigh purr. I like a cat fust-rate, but I'm
always suspicious of a cat-man. You know he's got claws, but you can't
tell where he's goin' to use 'em. When a feller like that comes slidin'
around and rubbin' his head against my shin, I always feel like keepin'
t'other foot ready for a kick. You're pretty sartin to need it one time
or another."

The train was nearly an hour late this evening, owing to a hot box, and
the "ex-seafaring man" and his two friends peered anxiously out at it
from around the corner of the station. The one coach stopped directly