she had been on the point of saying something more. The confession could wait.
"What was it?" asked the young woman.
"Oh, nothin', nothin'."
"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter much how they got out, as long as they did. But I am very sorry they got into Mr. Cahoon's garden. I hope they haven't completely ruined it."
They both turned to survey the battlefield. It was—like all battlefields after the strife is ended—a sad spectacle.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed the visitor. "I am afraid they have. What will Mr. Cahoon say?"
The captain smiled slightly.
"I hope you don't expect me to answer that," he observed.
"Why? … Oh, I see! Well, I don't know that I should blame him much. Have—have they left anything?"
"Oh, yes! Yes, indeed. There are a good many—er—sprouts left. And they dug up a lot of weeds besides. Judah ought to be thankful for the weeds, anyhow."
"I am afraid he won't be, under the circumstances."
"Maybe not, but there is one thing that, under the same circumstances, he ought to be thankful for. That is, that you came when you did. You may not know it, but I had been tryin' to get those hens out of that garden for—for a year, I guess. It seems longer, but I presume likely it wasn't more than a year."
She laughed again. "No," she said, "I guess it wasn't more than that."
"Probably not. If it had been any longer, judgin' by the way they worked, they'd have dug out the underpinnin' and had the house down by this time. How did you happen to come? Did you hear the—er—broadsides?"
"Why, no, I—But that reminds me. Have you seen a tramp around here?"
"A tramp? What sort of a tramp?"
"I don't know. Elvira—I mean Miss Snowden—said he was a tall, dark man and Aurora thought he was rather thick-set and sandy. But they both agree that he was a dreadful, rough-looking creature who carried a big club and had a queer slouchy walk. And he came in this direction, so they thought."
"He did, eh? Humph! Odd I didn't see him. I've been here all the time. Where was he when they saw him first?"
"Over on our property. In the Fair Harbor grounds, I mean. He came out of the bushes, so Elvira and Aurora say, and spoke to them. Insulted them, Elvira says."
"Sho! Well, well! I wonder where he went."
"I can't think. I supposed of course you must have seen him. It was only a little while ago, not more than an hour. Have you been here all that time?"
"Yes, I've been here for the last two hours. What part of your grounds was it? Would you like to have me go over there and look around?"
"No, thank you. You are very kind, but I am sure it won't be necessary. He has gone by now, of course."
"I should be glad to try." Then, noticing her glance at his limp, he added: "Oh, I can navigate after a fashion, well enough for a short cruise like that. But it is funny that, if there was a tramp there such a little while ago, I didn't run afoul of him. Why, I was over there myself."
"You were?"
"Yes, you see, I——"
He stopped short. He had been about to tell of his short walk and how he had inadvertently trespassed within the Fair Harbor boundaries. But before he could speak the words a sudden and amazing thought flashed upon him.
"Eh?" he cried. "Why—why, I wonder——"
His visitor was leaning forward. Judging by her expression, she, too, was experiencing a similar sensation of startled surmise.
"Why——" repeated the captain.
"Oh!" exclaimed the young woman.
"You don't suppose——"
"It couldn't possibly be that——"
"Wait a minute, please. Just a minute." Sears held up his hand. "Where did those folks of yours see this tramp? Were they in a—in a kind of roundhouse—summer-house, you might call it?"
"Why, yes. They were in the Eyrie."
"That's it, the Eyrie. And is one of the—er—ladies rather tall and narrow in the beam, gray-haired, and speaks quick and—school-marmy?"
"Yes. That is Miss Elvira Snowden."
"Of course—Elvira. That's what the other one called her. And she—the other one—is short and broad and—and hard of hearin'?"
"Yes. Her name is Aurora Chase. Is it possible that you——"
"Just a second more. Has this short one got a—a queer sort of hair rig? Black as tar and with kind of—of wrinkles in it?"
She smiled at this description. "Yes," she said. "Do you mean that you are——"
"The tramp? I guess likely I am. I was over on your premises just a little while ago and met those two ladies."
"But you can't be. They said he—the tramp—was a dreadful, rough man, with a club and—and——"
"Here's the club." Captain Kendrick exhibited his cane. "And these lame legs of mine would account for that slouchy walk they told you about. I guess there isn't much doubt that I am the tramp. But I'm sorry if they thought I insulted 'em. I surely didn't mean to."
He described the meeting by the Eyrie and repeated the dialogue as he remembered it.
"So you see," he said, in conclusion, "that's all there is to it. I suppose that hint of mine about bein' tempted to run off with one of 'em is the nearest to an insult of any of it. Perhaps I shouldn't have said it, but—but it popped into my head and I couldn't hold it back. I didn't really mean it," he added solemnly. "I wouldn't have run off with one of 'em for the world."
This, and the accompanying look, was too much. His visitor had been listening and trying to appear grave, although her eyes were twinkling. But now she burst out laughing.
"Honest I wouldn't," reiterated Captain Sears. "And I'm sorry for that insult."
"Absurd! You needn't be. If there was any insult it was the other way about. The idea of Elvira's suggesting that you came over there to steal. Well, we've settled the tramp, at any rate, and I apologize for the way you were treated, Mr.——"
"Kendrick. My name is Kendrick."
"Yes, Mr. Kendrick. And I am very sorry about the garden, too. Please tell Mr. Cahoon so, and tell him I think I can promise that the gate won't be left open again."
"I'll tell him when he comes back. He'll be here pretty soon, I guess. He and I are old shipmates. He shipped cook aboard of me for a good many voyages."
She was moving toward the path and the gate, but now she paused and turned to look at him. There was a new
