They embarked in the dory. Mr. Speed and Dolph splashed their oars and
rowed, exchanging looks and not venturing to offer any comment.
"You might auction 'em off to farmers for scarecrows," pursued Captain
Candage, still worrying the topic as a dog mouths a bone. "They ain't
fit for no more active jobs than that."
"I do hope you'll forgive my father for talking this way," pleaded Polly
Candage. She raised brimming eyes to the sympathetic gaze of the young
man beside her. "He doesn't understand it the way I do."
"Perhaps I don't exactly understand it myself," he protested.
"But what you are doing for them?"
"I haven't done anything as yet except start trouble for them. Now I
must do a little something to square myself."
"There's a reward for good deeds, Captain Mayo, when you help those
who cannot help themselves. I believe what the Bible says about casting
bread on the waters. It will return to you some day!"
He smiled down on her enthusiasm tolerantly, but he was far from
realizing then that this pretty girl, whose eyes were so bright
behind her tears, and whose cheeks were flushed with the ardor of her
admiration, was speaking to him with the tongue of a sibyl.