“Fallin’ down the cellar steps when I was a kid,” said the storekeeper.  “But these fellers think I must ha’ got it through a cutlass stroke, or somethin’.  Oh, I guess I’ve showed ’em what a real Silt should look like.  Yes, sir!  I cal’late I look the part of a feller that’s roved the sea for sixty year or so, Niece Louise.”

“You do, indeed.  That red bandana—­and the earrings—­and the mustache—­and stain.  Why, uncle! even to that tattooing——­”

He looked down at his bared arm and nodded proudly.

“Ye-as.  That time I went away ten year ago and left Joab to run the store (and a proper mess he made of things!) I found a feller down in the South End of Boston and he fixed me up with this tattoo work for twenty-five dollars.  Course, I didn’t dare show it none here—­kep’ my sleeves down an’ my throat-latch buttoned all winds and weathers.  But now------”

He laughed again, full-throated and joyous like a boy.  Then, suddenly, he grew grave.

“Niece Louise, I wonder if you can have any idea what this here dead-and-alive life all these years has meant to me?  Lashed hard and fast to this here store, and to a stay-ashore life, when my heart an’ soul was longin’ to set a course for ’way across’t the world?  Sargasso—­that’s it.  This was my Sargasso Sea—­and I was smothered in it!”

“I think I understand, Cap’n Abe,” the girl said softly, laying her hand in his big palm.

“An’ now, Louise, that I’ve got a taste of romance, I don’t want to come back to humdrum things—­no, sir!  I want to keep right on bein’ Cap’n Am’zon, and havin’ even them old hardshells like Cap’n Joab and Washy Gallup look on me as a feller-salt.”

“But how------?”

“They never really respected Cap’n Abe,” her uncle hurried on to say.  “I find my neighbors did love him, an’ I thank God for that!  But they knew he warn’t no seaman, and a man without salt water in his blood don’t make good with Cardhaven folks.

“But Cap’n Am’zon—­he’s another critter entirely.  They mebbe think he’s an old pirate or the like,” and he chuckled again, “but they sartin sure respect him.  Even Bet Gallup fears Cap’n Am’zon; but, to tell ye the truth, Niece Louise, she used to earwig Cap’n Abe!”

“But when the Curlew arrives home?” queried the girl suddenly.

“Hi-mighty, ye-as!  I see that,” he groaned.  “Looks to me as though somethin’ll have to happen to Abe Silt ’twixt Boston and this port.  And you’ll have to stop your father’s mouth, Louise.  I depend upon you to help me.  Otherwise I shall be undone—­completely undone.”

“Goodness!” cried the girl, choked with laughter again.  “Do you mean to do away with Cap’n Abe?  I fear you are quite as wicked as Betty Gallup believes you to be—­and Aunt Euphemia.”

He grinned broadly once more.  “I got Cap’n Abe’s will filed away already—­if somethin’ should happen,” said the old intriguer.  “Everything’s fixed, Niece Louise.”