“That’s good,” interrupted the Captain.  “I like to travel, and I’m willin’ to pay for it.  Think of the view I’ll get on the way.”

“But your permit from the selectmen—­” began Phinney.  Berry held up his hand.

“My permit never said nothin’ about the course to take,” he answered, his eye twinkling just a little.  “There, Sim, you’re wastin’ time.  I move by the Hill Boulevard.”

And into the Boulevard swung the Berry house.  The Colt and Adams foreman was an angry man when he saw the beams laid in that direction.  He rushed over and asked profane and pointed questions.

“Thought you said you was goin’ straight ahead?” he demanded.

“Thought I was,” replied Simeon, “but, you see, I’m only navigator of this craft, not owner.”

“Where is the blankety blank?” asked the foreman.

“If you’re referrin’ to Cap’n Berry, I cal’late you’ll find him at the depot,” answered Phinney.  To the depot went the foreman.  Receiving little satisfaction there, he hurried to the home of his employer, Mr. Williams.  The magnate, red-faced and angry, returned with him to the station.  Captain Sol received them blandly.  Issy, who heard the interview which followed, declared that the depot master was so cool that “an iceberg was a bonfire ’longside of him.”  Issy’s description of this interview, given to a dozen townspeople within the next three hours, was as follows: 

“Mr. Williams,” said the wide-eyed Issy, “he comes postin’ into the waitin’ room, his foreman with him.  Williams marches over to Cap’n Sol and he says, ‘Berry,’ he says, ’are you responsible for the way that house of yours is moved?’

“Cap’n Sol bowed and smiled.  ‘Yes,’ says he, sweet as a fresh scallop.

“‘You’re movin’ it to Main Street, aren’t you?  I so understood.’

“‘You understood correct.  That’s where she’s bound.’

“‘Then what do you mean by turning out of your road and into mine?’

“’Oh, I don’t own any road.  Have you bought the Boulevard?  The selectmen ought to have told us that.  I s’posed it was town thoroughfare.’

“Mr. Williams colored up a little.  ’I didn’t mean my road in that sense,’ he says.  ’But the direct way to Main Street is along the shore, and everybody knows it.  Now why do you turn from that into the Boulevard?’

“Cap’n Sol took a cigar from his pocket.  ‘Have one?’ says he, passin’ it toward Mr. Williams.  ’No?  Too soon after breakfast, I s’pose.  Why do I turn off?’ he goes on.  ‘Well, I’ll tell you.  I’m goin’ to stay right aboard my shack while it’s movin’, and it’s so much pleasanter a ride up the hill that I thought I’d go that way.  I always envied them who could afford a house on the Boulevard, and now I’ve got the chance to have one there—­for a spell.  I’m sartin I shall enjoy it.’

“The foreman growled, disgusted.  Mr. Williams got redder yet.

“‘Don’t you understand?’ he snorts.  ‘You’re blockin’ the way of the house I’m movin’.  I have capable men with adequate apparatus to move it, and they would be able to go twice as fast as your one-horse country outfit.  You’re blockin’ the road.  Now they must follow you.  It’s an outrage!’