“I haven’t set him aginst ye, Martha.  Eben’s got a tongue which he’s at liberty to use.  I s’pose he knows it’s no use to speak, fer if ye won’t believe me ye won’t believe him, so thar.  Ye needn’t git on yer high-horse about nuthin’.”

Mrs. Tobin looked at her husband in surprise, for seldom had he ever spoken to her in such a manner.

“And you’ve done nothing wrong?” she asked.  “Are you sure?”

“No, we ain’t done nuthin’ wrong ‘ccordin’ to our way of thinkin’.  We sailed by without stoppin’, I acknowledge.  But is that any crime?  Bizness is bizness an’ must be attended to.”

Captain Tobin felt quite pleased at his own boldness, and for his victory over his wife.  He had no idea that she would calm down so soon.  Had he made a mistake in always giving in to her? he asked himself.  Perhaps if he had been a little more assertive it might have been better for his welfare.

“I suppose the cabin’s in a terrible mess.”  His wife’s words suddenly aroused him.

“No, no, Martha, it’s in great shape,” he hastened to assure her.  “I scrubbed the floor meself when we was held up down river.”

“Then it must be in great shape, Sam’l.  I’ve seen your scrubbing before.  I’m going to have a look, anyway.  No doubt there are some dirty clothes to take home.  I suppose you didn’t wash them.”

Mrs. Tobin made her way to the cabin, and down the narrow stairway, closely followed by the captain and Eben.

“It smells close here, Sam’l,” she commented, as she stood in the centre of the room and looked critically around.  “You should have more ventilation.  It isn’t healthy.  I have often——­”

She paused abruptly as her eyes rested upon a narrow shelf on which a little clock was steadily ticking.  Stepping quickly forward, she reached out her right hand, seized something and held it forth.  It was a woman’s innocent side-comb, but to the captain and his son it appeared more terrible than the most dangerous bomb.  They stared as if they had never beheld such a thing before.  Mrs. Tobin watched them as she gripped the comb in her hand.  Her eyes blazed with anger as she glowered upon the two abashed ones before her.  The captain clutched his handkerchief and mopped his hot brow.  Then he looked helplessly around.  He longed to escape, to flee anywhere from his wife’s accusing eyes.

“Where did this come from?” The words fell slowly from Mrs. Tobin’s lips, and to the two culprits they sounded like the knell of doom.  She waited for some response, but none came.  “Is it possible that you have had a woman in this cabin,” she continued.  “Can you deny it, Sam’l Tobin?”

The captain clawed nervously at the back of his head with the fingers of his right hand, and then glanced up the stairway.  The gleam of triumph shone in his wife’s eyes as she noted his embarrassment.

“You can’t deny it, Sam’l,” she charged, at the same time pointing an accusing finger straight at his face, “I can read you like a book.  You’ve had a woman on board, and this is her comb.  You can’t deny it.”