“Seems to me,” he mused, “that I’ve been tryin’ to raise Eben without considerin’ enough the great Stone of help.  I’ve heard the parson say that’s the meanin’ of Ebenezer, and that the stone refers to the Lord.  Yes, I guess I need His help more’n ever jist now.”

The “Eb and Flow” made slow progress down river, for the wind was light, and it was necessary to beat most of the way.  It was, accordingly, evening when at last she ran slowly into Beech Cove and dropped anchor.  The captain’s mind was worried about the reception he would receive, for he knew how angry his wife would be over his strange action on the up trip.  He was at a loss to explain, for he could not bring himself to the extremity of telling a falsehood.  He was thinking seriously of this when his wife appeared on the shore.  She immediately launched a small row-boat and headed for the “Eb and Flo.”  The captain received her as graciously as possible, although he knew at the first glance that his entire stock of affableness could not dispel the threatening clouds.

“Well, Sam’l,” Mrs. Tobin began, the instant she stepped upon the deck, “what have you got to say for yourself?”

“Nuthin’, Martha, nuthin’, ’cept I’m mighty glad to see ye.”

“H’m, don’t ye lie to me, Sam’l.  Ye must be mighty glad to see me.  Why did ye go by on your up trip without stopping?”

“I was in a great hurry, Martha, an’ had to git the wind when it served.  We was hung up a long time down river.”

“But ye never did such a thing before.  Was there any special reason why ye didn’t call just for a few minutes?”

Mrs. Tobin was a buxom, matronly-looking woman, with a usually bright, pleasant face.  But now it was stern, and her dark eyes were filled with anger as she noted her husband’s silence and confusion.  Presently she turned to her son who was standing near.

“What have you to say, Eben?  Your father seems to have lost his tongue all of a sudden.  What have you two been doing?”

If his mother had asked him such a question that morning he would not have hesitated about telling the truth.  But the thought of the expression upon his father’s face when he had told about throwing the stone, deterred him.  He looked at his mother uncertain what to say.

“Have you lost your tongue, too?” she impatiently demanded.  “Dear me, there must be something wrong when you too are afraid or ashamed to speak.  Things have come to a pretty pass, Sam’l, when you an’ Eben conspire against me.  Haven’t I cooked for you, washed and mended your clothes all these years, and been a good wife to you, Sam’l?”

“Indeed ye have, Martha.  Ye’ve done yer duty, all right.”

“An’ haven’t I been a good mother to your children?”

“Sure, sure, ye have, Martha.  Ye done yer duty to them, too.”

“Well, then, Sam’l, why is it that you’ve treated me in such a manner?  Why have you set my only son against me?”