Mayo obeyed the thrust of the jubilant master's arm and went along.
"I'll go and explain to Captain Can-dage, my partner."
"All right. I'll go along, too, and help you make it short."
As they walked along Captain Wass inspected his companion critically.
"High living aboard Marston's yacht make you dyspeptic, son? You look as
if your vittles hadn't been agreeing with you."
"My health is all right, sir."
"Heard you had trouble with Marston," proceeded the old skipper, with
brutal frankness. "Anybody who has trouble with that damnation pirate
comes well recommended to me. He is trying to steal every steamboat line
on this coast. Thank Gawd, he can never get his claws on the old Vose
line. Some great doings in the steamboat business are ahead, Mayo.
Reckon it's a good line to be in if you like fight and want to make your
bigness."
Mayo walked on in silence. He was troubled by this added information
that news of his affair with Marston had gained such wide currency.
However, he was glad that this new opportunity offered him a chance to
hide himself in the isolation of a freighter's pilot-house.
Captain Candage received the news with meek resignation. "I knowed it
would have to come," he said. "Couldn't expect much else. Howsomever, it
ain't comforting."
"Can't keep a good boy like this pawing around in fish gurry," stated
Captain Wass.
"I know it, and I wish him well and all the best!"
Their leave-taking, presided over by the peremptory master of the
Nequasset, was short.
"I'll probably have a chance to see you when we come here again," called
Mayo from the wharf, looking down into the mournful countenance of the
skipper. "Perhaps I'll have time to run down to Maquoit while we are
discharging. At any rate, explain it all for me, especially to your
daughter."
"I'll tell all concerned just what's right," Captain Candage assured
him. "I'll tell her for you."
She was on the beach when the skipper came rowing in alone from the
Ethel and May.
"He's gone," he called to her. "Of course we couldn't keep him. He's too
smart to stay on a job like this."
When they were on their way up to the widow's cottage he stole
side-glances at her, and her silence distressed him.
"Let's see! He says to me--if I can remember it right-he says, says he,
'Take my best respects and '--let's see--yes, 'take my best respects and
love to your Polly--'"