Captain Mayo had already noticed that the messengers from the yachts

were killing time by teasing the flustered young woman; it was

good-humored badinage, but it was effectively blocking progress at that

end of the line.

He felt a "native's" instinctive impulse to go to the relief of the

young woman who was being baited by the merrymakers; the responsibility

of his own errand prompted him to help her clear decks. But he waited,

hoping that the yachtsmen would go about their business.

"From the Polly, Mr. Speed?" he inquired, amiably. "Is the Polly in

the harbor? I didn't notice her in the fog."

"Reckon you know her, by the way you speak of her," replied the

gratified Mr. Speed.

"I ought to, sir. She was built at Mayoport by my great-grandfather

before the Mayo yards began to turn out ships."

"Well, I swanny! Be you a Mayo?"

The captain bowed and smiled at the enthusiasm displayed by Mr. Speed.

"By ginger! that sort of puts you right into our fambly, so to speak!"

The mate surveyed him with interest and with increasing confidence. "I'm

in a mess, Cap'n Mayo, and I need advice and comfort, I reckon. I was

headed on a straight tack toward my regular duty, and all of a sudden I

found myself jibed and in stays, and I'm there now and drifting. Seeing

that your folks built the Polly, I consider that you're in the fambly,

and that Proverdunce put you right here to-night in this telegraft

office. Do you know Cap'n Epps Candage?"

Mayo shook his head.

"Or his girl, Polly, named for the Polly?"

"No, I must confess."

"Well, it may be just as well for ye that ye don't," said Oakum Otie,

twisting his straggly beard into a spill and blinking nervously. "There

I was, headed straight and keeping true course, and then she looked at

me and there was a tremble in her voice and tears in her eyes--and the

next thing I knowed I was here in this telegraft place with this!" He

held up the folded paper and his hand shook.

Captain Mayo did not understand, and therefore he made no remarks.

"There was a song old Ephrum Wack used to sing," went on Mr. Speed,

getting more confidential and making sure that the other men in the room

were too much occupied to listen. "Chorus went: "I ain't afeard of the raging sea,

Nor critters that's in it, whatever they be.

But a witch of a woman is what skeers me!




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