It really was no business of hers whether Cap’n Abe had taken his chest with him when he sailed from Boston or not.  She had never asked Cap’n Amazon the name of the vessel his brother was supposed to have shipped on.  Had she known it was the Curlew, the very schooner on which Professor Grayling had sailed, she would, of course, have shown a much deeper interest.  And had Cap’n Amazon learned from Louise the name of the craft her father was aboard, he surely would have mentioned the coincidence.

It stuck in the girl’s mind—­the puzzle about Cap’n Abe’s chest—­but it did not come to her lips.  Looking across the table that evening, after the store was closed, as they sat together under the hanging lamp, she wondered that Cap’n Amazon did not speak of it if he knew his brother’s chest had been returned to the Paulmouth express agent.

Without being in the least grim-looking in her eyes, there was an expression on Cap’n Amazon’s face, kept scrupulously shaven, that made one hesitate to pry into or show curiosity regarding any of his private affairs.

He might be perfectly willing to tell her anything she wished to know.  He was frank enough in relating his personal experiences up and down the seas, that was sure!

Cap’n Amazon puffed at his pipe and tried to engage the attention of Diddimus.  The big tortoise-shell ran from him no longer; but he utterly refused to be petted.  He now lay on the couch and blinked with a bored manner at the captain.

If Louise came near him he purred loudly, putting out a hooked claw to catch her skirt and stop her, and so get his head rubbed.  But if Cap’n Amazon undertook any familiarities, Diddimus arose in dignified silence and changed his place or left the room.

“Does beat all,” the Captain said reflectively, reaching for his knitting, “what notions dumb critters get.  We had a black man and a black dog with us aboard the fo’master Sally S. Stern when I was master, out o’ Baltimore for Chilean ports.  Bill was the blackest negro, I b’lieve, I ever see.  You couldn’t see him in the dark with his mouth and eyes both shut.  And that Newfoundland of his was just as black and his coat just as kinky as Bill’s wool.  The crew called ’em the two Snowballs.”

“What notion did the dog take, Uncle Amazon?” Louise asked as he halted.  Sometimes he required a little urging to “get going.”  But not much.

“Why, no matter what Bill did around the deck, or below, or overside, or what not, the dog never seemed to pay much attention to him.  But the minute Bill started aloft that dog began to cry—­whine and bark—­and try to climb the shrouds after that nigger.  Land sakes, you never in your life saw such actions!  Got so we had to chain the dog Snowball whenever it came on to blow, for there’s a consarned lot o’ reefin’ down and hoistin’ sail on one o’ them big fo’masters.  The skipper’t keeps his job on a ship like the Sally S. Stern must get steamboat speed out o’ her.