From behind the end of the counter where Zoeth sat came an odd sound, a sort of gasp.  Shadrach leaned forward quickly.

“What’s the matter, Zoeth?” he asked.  Before Zoeth could answer Mary spoke: 

“Dead!” she repeated.  “Mr. Keith, I—­did—­did you say Crawford Smith’s father was dead?”

Her tone was so strange that even Mr. Keith could not help noticing it.  He looked at her, seemed about to ask a question, and then answered hers instead.

“Why, yes,” he said; “he is dead.  He had been in poor health for some time, so his son told me, and about two weeks ago he died.  Crawford did not tell me any particulars, nor did he say what had brought him East.  In fact, he didn’t seem anxious to talk; acted as if he had something on his mind.  Of course I said I was sorry and he thanked me and inquired regarding Mrs. Keith and Edna and Sam.  Then I had to hurry for my train. . . .  Oh, are you going, Mary?  Well, then, I must say good-by until next summer; we leave tomorrow morning.”

Mary explained, rather hurriedly, that she must speak with Simeon for a few minutes, said good-by, shook hands and hastened out.  Keith looked after her.

“I hope I haven’t made a blunder,” he said, “in speaking of young Smith.  She and he were quite—­er—­friendly at one time, weren’t they.  I understood so from some remarks of Sam’s.  Didn’t put my foot in it by mentioning the boy’s name, did I?  I certainly hope not.”

Zoeth did not speak.  Shadrach hastened to reassure him.

“No, no!” he said.  “There was one time when even me and Zoeth figgered there might be—­er—­well, we didn’t know but what he and she was liable to be more’n just friends.  But it’s all off now, seems so.  They don’t even write each other, I guess.  I cal’late maybe Mary-’Gusta got tired of him,” he explained.  “He was a real nice young feller, but he probably wan’t quite good enough for her.  Fur’s that goes,” he added, with the emphasis of absolute conviction, “I never laid eyes on one that was.”

Keith looked relieved.  “Well, I’m glad if I didn’t make a mistake,” he said.  “She seemed so startled when I said that the man was dead and her manner was so odd.  Didn’t you notice it yourself, Captain?”

Shadrach nodded.

“I noticed she seemed sort of sot all aback,” he said, “but I don’t know’s that’s so strange when you consider that she and Crawford used to be such friends.  More’n probable she’s heard him talk a good deal about his father.”

“Well, perhaps so.  No doubt that is it.  I’m afraid she is working too hard and worrying too much over her various enterprises here.  She is succeeding wonderfully, of course, but I don’t like to see her losing those roses in her cheeks.  They’re much too precious to lose.  Keep your eye on her, Captain, and don’t let her wear herself out.”

He soon said good-by.  Captain Shadrach accompanied him to the door.  Zoeth remained where he was, not rising even when he shook hands with his departing friend.  But when the Captain turned back he saw his partner standing by the end of the counter and clutching it with one hand while he beckoned with the other.  Shadrach gave him one look and then crossed the space between them in two strides.