This page needs to be proofread.
258
BEACHED KEELS

Joe e'enamost drove his cows over the bank. But I 'll git her off now—ketch this ebb—drop down 's fur as Lord's Nubble: one cow for the lightkeeper there—find my way that fur blindfold, so long's she can cut the fog, hey?" He laughed, as if at a pleasant fancy.

These plans for an alien future seemed hardly to touch the captain's mind.

"The' 's some things there on the table, Cap'n Follansbee," he said quietly. "Anything you don't want kep', I 'll take home."

"Curios, hey?" boomed the new master. He grinned at them like a good little pirate disdainful of plunder. "No, no, cap'n! Souverins o' foreign parts, eh? No, no, you keep 'em all. Good snug cabin, this,—fustrate!"

"Well, those almanacs," urged the captain, stowing the keepsakes away in spacious pockets. "Now you take those, go ahead. Ain't noo, o' course,—ketches and rebuses just as good,—lots o' facts, too."

"All right. Thank ye," said the other heartily. "I do n't care. They 'll keep my mind from evil thoughts."