“But it was my uncle’s voice, of course,” Louise reminded her, much amused, “Cap’n Amazon Silt is my uncle, too.”

“Humph!  I s’pose so.  Looks to be.  If ’tis him.  Anyhow,” pursued the jerkily speaking Betty Gallup, “I turned ‘round when he spoke spectin’ to see Cap’n Abe—­for I hadn’t read this letter then—­and there he warn’t!  Instead—­of all the lookin’ critters!  There! you go take a peek at him and see what you think yourself.  I’ll put the breakfast on the table.  He’s made coffee and the mush is in the double-biler and the biscuits in the oven are just browning.  I reckon he’s as handy ’round the kitchen as Cap’n Abe is.  Lots of these old sailors be.”

“Fancy! an uncle who is a pirate!” giggled Louise and she ran through the living-room and the dividing hall to the door of the store.  First she saw Cap’n Amazon from the rear.  The red bandana swathing his bead, below which was a lank fringe of black hair, was the only bizarre thing she noticed about her new-found relative.  He seemed to have very quick hearing for almost instantly he swung smartly around to face her.

“Oh!” was expelled from the girl’s lips, for she was as startled as Lawford Tapp and Betty Gallup had been.

Compared with the mild-appearing, heavily whiskered Cap’n Abe, this brother of the storekeeper was in looks what Betty had pronounced him.  His dark complexion, the long mustache, as black and glossy as a crow’s wing, the gold rings in his ears, with the red handkerchief to top it all, made Cap’n Amazon Silt as romantic a figure as ever peered out of a Blackbeard or a Henry Morgan legend.

There were intricate traceries on his forearms in red and blue ink; beneath the open collar of his shirt the girl gained a glimpse of other tattooing.  There was a faint scar traced along his right jaw, almost from ear to chin, which added a certain grimness to his expression.

Yet his was not at all a sinister face.  His eyes twinkled at her kindly—­almost like Cap’n Abe’s eyes—­and the huge mustache lifted in a smile.

“Ahoy!” he cried jovially.  “So this is my niece, Louise, is it?  Well, to be sure!  Abe didn’t overpraise you.  You be a pretty tidy craft.”

The girl dimpled, coming forward to give him her hand.  As on the day before, her hand was lost in a warm, firm clasp, while her uncle continued to look her over with approval.

“Yes, sir!” he ejaculated.  “You look to me like one o’ the tidiest craft I ever clapped eyes on.  I don’t scarcely see how Abe could go away and leave you.  Dunno’s he’s got an eye for a pretty woman like me.  Bless you!  I been a slave to the women all my life.”

“Yet never married, Uncle Amazon?” she cried roguishly.

“Tell you how ’twas,” he whispered hoarsely, his hand beside his mouth.  “I never could decide betwixt and between ’em.  No, sir!  They are all so desir’ble that I couldn’t make up my mind.  So I stayed single.”