nervous fussiness. Whatever it was it was too
trivial for him to waste his time over.

The captain rose from his chair, crossed the sitting-room,
and opened the door leading to the porch,
letting in the sunshine. Martha followed close at
his heels.

"You're runnin' on a wrong tack, old woman,
and first thing ye know ye'll be in the breakers," he
said, with his hand on the knob. "Ease off a little
and don't be too hard on 'em. They'll make harbor
all right. You're makin' more fuss than a hen over
one chicken. Miss Jane knows what she's about.
She's got a level head, and when she tells me that
my Bart ain't good enough to ship alongside the
daughter of Morton Cobden, I'll sign papers for
him somewhere else, and not before. I'll have to
get you to excuse me now; I'm busy. Good-day,"
and picking up his paper, he re-entered the house
and closed the door upon her.




CHAPTER VI



A GAME OF CARDS