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IV

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      Sears Kendrick's prophecy that Bayport would, within the next day or two, talk about him even more than it had before was a true one. As soon as it became known that he had left the Macomber home and was boarding and lodging with Judah Cahoon in the rear portion of the General Minot house every tongue in the village—tongues of animals and small children excepted—wagged his name. At the sewing-circle, at the Shakespeare Reading Society—convening that week at Mrs. Tabitha Crosby's—after Friday night prayer-meeting at the Orthodox meeting-house, in Eliphalet Bassett's store at mail times, in the sitting-rooms and kitchens and around breakfast, dinner and supper tables from West Bayport to East Bayport Neck and from Poverty Lane to Woodchuck's Misery—the principal topic was Captain Kendrick's surprising move.

      "Why?" that was the question.

      Various answers were offered, many reasons suggested, but none satisfied everybody.

      At the Shakespeare Society meeting, just before the reading aloud of "Cymbeline" began—"Cymbeline" carefully edited, censored and kalsomined by the selective committee, Mrs. Reverend David Dishup and Miss Tryphosa Taylor—the feelings of the genteel section of the community were expressed by no less a personage than Mrs. Captain Elkanah Wingate. Mrs. Wingate, speaking from the Mount Sinai of Bayport's aristocracy, made proclamation thus:

      "Why, if the man must leave his sister's and go somewhere else to live, why in the world does he choose to go there? Aren't there good, respectable, genteel boarding-houses like—well, like yours, Naomi, for instance? I should say so."

      Mrs. Naomi Newcomb, whose home sheltered a few "paying guests," smiled and shook her head. The shake indicated not a doubt of Mrs. Wingate's judgment, but complete loss as to Sears Kendrick's reasons for behaving as he had. Other members shook their heads also. Mary-Pashy Foster, who had spent a winter in France when her husband was ill with the small-pox at Havre, shrugged her shoulders.

      "And," continued Mrs. Captain Wingate, "when you consider the place he has gone to and the person he has gone with! Good heavens, I say! Good heavens!"

      More words and exclamations of approval. Several others declared that they said so, too.

      "Gone to live," went on Mrs. Wingate, "not in the General Minot house proper—there might be some explanation for that, perhaps—but they tell me that this Judah Cahoon only uses the back part of the house and that Cap'n Kendrick has got a room just off the kitchen or thereabouts."

      "And Judah himself!" broke in Miss Taylor. "He is as rough and common as—as—I don't know what. How a man like Cap'n Kendrick can lower himself—debase himself to such a person's level I do not see. You would as soon expect a needle to go through a camel's eye, as the saying is."

      There was a slight interval of embarrassment after this outburst. The majority of those present realized that the speaker had gotten her proverb twisted, but, she being Miss Tryphosa Taylor, no one felt like venturing to set her right. Mrs. Captain Godfrey Peasley relieved the situation; she had a habit of relieving situations—when she did not make them tenser. She had gotten into the Shakespeare Reading Society purely by persistence and the possession of adamantine self-confidence. From that shot-proof exterior snubs, hints and reproofs glanced like blown peas from the hull of a battleship. "Heaven knows," confided Mrs. Captain Wingate to Miss Taylor and the Reverend Mrs. Dishup, "why Amelia Peasley ever wanted to join the Society. She doesn't know whether Shakespeare is a man or a disease." Which may or not have been true, the fact remaining that Mrs. Peasley had wanted to join the Society and—joined.

      Now, while others hesitated, following Miss Tryphosa's little blunder, she spoke.

      "I think," she declared, with conviction, "that Sears Kendrick ought to be ashamed of himself. I think such actions are degradatin'—yes, indeed, right down degradatin'."

      After that, further comments upon the captain's conduct would have seemed like anti-climaxes. Therefore the Society proceeded to read "Cymbeline." Mrs. Peasley had something to say about "Cymbeline," also.

      Captain Sears himself merely grinned when told of the sensation his conduct was causing.

      "All right," he said, "let 'em talk. If they aren't talkin' about me they will be about somebody else."

      Judah, to whom this remark was made, snorted.

      "Humph!" he growled. "They be talkin' about somebody else. Don't you make no mistake about that, Cap'n Sears."

      "That so, Judah? Who's the other lucky man?"

      "Me. Jumpin', creepin'—— Why, some of them womenfolks seem to cal'late I lammed you over the head with a marlinspike and then towed you up here by main strength; seems if they did, by Henry! And some of the men ain't a whole lot better. Makes me madder'n a sore nose. I was down to the store—down to 'Liphalet's—and there was a crew of ha'f a dozen there and they all wanted to know how you was gittin' along.

      "'Well, he ain't dead yit,' says I. 'He was lively enough when I left him. I ain't come to buy no spade to bury him with.'

      "You'd think that would satisfy 'em, wouldn't ye? Well, it didn't! Cap'n Noah Baker was there and he wanted to know this, and that little runt of a Thad Black he wanted to know that—and kept on wantin'. And that brother-in-law of yours, Cap'n Sears, that Joel Macomber, I declare to man if he wan't the wust of all. You'd think he ought to keep quiet about your doin's, wouldn't ye, now? But he didn't. 'Don't ask me, boys,' he says. 'I don't know why Sears quit my house and went to Judah's. We manage to bear up without him somehow,' says he, winkin' to the gang, 'but if you ask me his reasons for goin' I can't tell ye. I presume likely Judah can, though,' he says. 'Well, I can see one reason plain enough,' says I, lookin' right at him."

      Kendrick burst out laughing. "Did he get the idea, Judah?" he inquired.

      "Him? Nary a bit. Wanted me to tell him what the reason was. Limpin', creepin' prophets! What did a woman like Sary ever marry him for, anyway, Cap'n? Not that it's any of my business, you understand."

      "I understand. Well, it wasn't any of mine either, Judah."

      "No, I presume likely not. But that George Kent, he's a nice young feller, ain't he, Cap'n?"

      "Seems to be," replied Kendrick.

      "Um—hm. Come up to me, after the gang had quit havin' their good time, and shook hands nice and chummy and wanted to know how you was. 'Tell the cap'n I'm goin' to come in and see him some day,' he says, 'if you and he want callers.' 'Good land, yes,' says I, 'course we do. Don't stop to call, come right along in.' He's a nice boy that young Kent. … But—but some of these days I'm goin' to hit that Thad Black—hit him with somethin' soft like—like an anvil. If that critter fell overboard I wouldn't heave him no life-preserver. No, sir, by Henry, I'd heave him the sheet anchor. The longer he hung on to that the better 'twould suit me."

      To his sister only did Sears give his reasons for leaving her home. With her he was perfectly frank.

      "You know why I'm doin' this, Sarah," he said. "Now don't you—honest?"

      Mrs. Macomber hesitated. "Why, Sears," she faltered reluctantly, "I—I suppose I can guess why you think you're doin' it. But that doesn't make it right for you to do it, really."

      "Oh, yes, it does. Be sensible, Sarah. Here are you with six children to support and work for, not to mention one boarder and—a husband. The house is crowded, aloft and alow. There isn't a bit of room for me."

      "Now, Sears, how can you talk so? You've had room here, haven't you?"

      "Yes, I've had it, plenty of it. But how much room have the rest of you had?"

      "Why—why, we've had enough. Nobody's complained that I know of."

      "Good reason why. You wouldn't let 'em, Sarah. And of course you never would complain yourself. But that is only part of it. The real

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