"Abbie," observed the captain, "this is solid comfort. Every time I go
away from home I get into trouble, don't I? Last trip I took to Boston,
I lost thirty dollars, and--"

"Lost it!" interrupted Miss Baker, tartly. "Gave it away, you mean."

"I didn't GIVE it away. I lent it. Abbie, you ought to know the
difference between a gift and a loan."

"I do--when there is any difference. But if lendin' Tim Foster ain't
givin' it away, then I miss my guess."

"Well," with another chuckle, "Tim don't feel that way. He swore right
up and down that he wouldn't take a cent--as a gift. I offered to make
him a present of ten dollars, but he looked so shocked that I apologized
afore he could say no."

"Yes, and then LENT him that thirty. Shocked! The only thing that would
shock that good-for-nothin' is bein' set to work. What possessed you to
be such a soft-head, _I_ don't know. When you get back a copper of that
money I'll believe the millennium's struck, that's all."

"Hum! Well, I'll help you believe it--that is, if I have time afore I
drop dead of heart disease. Abbie, you'd make a good lawyer; you can get
up an argument out of a perfect agreement. I said the thirty dollars
was lost, to begin with. But I knew Tim Foster's mother when she used
to think that boy of hers was the eighth wonder of the world. And I
promised her I'd do what I could for him long's I lived... But it seems
to me we've drifted some off the course, ain't we? What I started to say