“And I ain’t crazy, neither.  I beg your pardon for hollerin’ and grabbin’ hold of you.”

“Granted.”

“Thank ye.  Now,” hesitatingly, “would you mind tellin’ me why you asked me if I was married?”

“Not in the least.  I asked merely because it occurred to me that you might be.  Of course, I had seen nothing of your wife, but it was barely possible that she was away on a visit, or somewhere.  There is no regulation forbidding lightkeepers marrying—­at least, I never heard of any—­and so I asked; that’s all.”

Seth nodded.  “I see,” he said, slowly; “yes, yes, I see.  So you didn’t have no special reason.”

“I did not.  Of course, if I had realized that you were subject to—­er—­fits, I should have been more careful.”

“Hum! . . .  Well, I—­I beg your pardon again.  I—­I am kind of touchy on some p’ints.  Didn’t I tell you no women came here?  Married!  A wife!  Do I look like a dum fool?”

“Not now.”

“Well, then!  And I’ve apologized for bein’ one a few minutes ago, ain’t I.”

“Yes, you have.  No grudge on my part, I assure you.  Let’s forget it and talk of something else.”

They did, but the dialogue was rather jerky.  Brown was thinking, and Atkins seemed moody and disinclined to talk.  After a time he announced that it was getting late and he cal’lated he would go up to the light room.  “You’d better turn in,” he added, rising.

“Just a minute,” said the young man.  “Wait just a minute.  Atkins, suppose I asked you another question—­would you become violent at once? or merely by degrees?”

Seth frowned.  The suspicious look returned to his face.

“Humph!” he grunted.  “Depended on what you asked me, maybe.”

“Yes.  Well, this one is harmless—­at least, I hope it is.  I thought the other was, also, but I . . .  There! there! be calm.  Sit down again and listen.  This question is nothing like that.  It’s about that assistant of yours, the chap who left a day or two before I drifted in.  What were his duties?  What did he have to do when he was here?”

“Wa-al,” drawled Seth with sarcasm, resuming his seat on the bench; “he was supposed to do consider’ble many things.  Stand watch and watch with me, and scrub brass and clean up around, and sweep and wash dishes and—­and—­well, make himself gen’rally useful.  Them was the duties he was supposed to have.  What he done was diff’rent.  Pesky loafer!  Why?”

“That’s what I’m going to tell you.  Have they appointed his successor yet?  Have you got any one to take his place?”

“No.  Fact is, I’d ought to have telegraphed right off to the Board, but I ain’t.  I was so glad to see the last of him that I kept puttin’ it off.  I’ll do it tomorrer.”

“Perhaps you won’t need to.”

“Course I’ll need to!  Why not?  Got to have somebody to help.  That’s rules and regulations; and, besides, I can’t keep awake day and night, too.  What makes you think I won’t need to?”