“Mercy on us!  You’ve been cryin’!” he declared.

“Oh—­Oh, no, I haven’t!  I—­”

“Rubbish!  Yes, you have, too.  Settin’ alone up here in the dark and cryin’!  Mary-’Gusta Lathrop, come here!”

She had risen from the rocking-chair, but he seized her in his arms, sat down in the chair himself, and lifted her to his knee just as he used to do when she was the little Mary-’Gusta.

“Now there, dearie,” he said.  “You’ll tell your Uncle Shad.  What is it?”

“Oh, nothing, Uncle Shad, dear.  I was—­I’m feeling just a little silly this afternoon, I guess.  You mustn’t ask me.”

“All right, I won’t ask—­I’ll tell.  That young feller from out West, the feller with the uncommon name—­Brown—­Jones—­Oh, no, Smith, that was it—­he came cruisin’ around here and—­”

“Uncle Shad, how did you know?”

“A little bird told me.  A long-legged bird without much hair on top—­a bald-headed eagle, I cal’late he must be.  Hops round our kitchen daytimes and roosts in the attic nights.”

“Isaiah!  Of course he would tell.”

“Of course he would—­bein’ Isaiah.  Well, this Smith critter, he came and—­and—­well, I guess you’ll have to tell me the rest.”

“There isn’t much to tell.  He came and—­and then he went away again.”

“Went away—­where?”

“Out to Carson City, I suppose.”

“Ain’t he comin’ back any more?”

“No.”

“Why?  Don’t you want him to come, Mary-’Gusta?”

“Oh, Uncle Shad, please don’t.  I don’t feel as if I could answer.  Don’t ask me.”

“There, there, dearie; don’t you answer nothin’.  You set still here and be my baby.  I ain’t had a chance to baby you for a long spell and it seems good.”

Silence.  Suddenly the Captain felt the head which nestled against his shoulder stir.

“Uncle Shadrach,” said Mary-’Gusta, “what do you do when you want to forget?”

“Eh?  Want to forget?  Oh, I don’t know!  Cal’late I turn to and sail in and work a little harder, maybe.  Why?”

“Oh, nothing. . .  But I am much obliged for the suggestion.  Now I am going to work.  I shall begin tomorrow morning.  I wish it was tomorrow right now.”

“Don’t.  Jumpin’ fire!  Don’t wish time away; some of us ain’t got too much to spare.  But ain’t you been workin’, for mercy sakes?  I should say you had.”

Another interval of silence.  Then Mary said: 

“Uncle Shad, a good while ago, when you asked me about—­about him, I promised you I would tell when there was anything to tell.  I am going to keep my promise.  He came today and asked me—­asked me to marry him—­not now, of course, but by and by.”

Shadrach was not greatly surprised.  Nevertheless it was a moment before he spoke.  Mary felt his arms tighten about her and she realized a little of the struggle he was making.  Yet his tone was brave and cheerful.