Captain Obed Bangs was a gloomy man that fall.  He had always liked John and the liking had grown to an ardent admiration and affection.  He made several attempts to speak with the young man on the subject, but the latter would not discuss it.  He was always glad to see the captain and quite willing to talk of anything but Mrs. Barnes’ property and of Emily Howes.  These topics were taboo and Captain Obed soon ceased to mention them.  Also he no longer made daily calls at the ex-barber-shop and, in spite of himself, could not help showing, when he did call, the resentment he felt.  John noticed this and there was a growing coldness between the two.

“But,” declared the captain, stoutly, when he and Thankful were together, “I still say ’tain’t so.  I give in that it looks as if ’twas, but I tell you there’s a nigger in the woodpile somewheres.  Some day he’ll be dug out and then there’s a heap of tattle-tales and character naggers in this town that’ll find they’ve took the wrong channel.  They’ll be good and seasick, that’s what they’ll be.”

Mr. E. Holliday Kendrick, if he knew that his own popularity had suffered a shock, did not appear to care.  He went on with his plans for enlarging his estate and, when he left East Wellmouth for New York, which he did early in October, told those who asked him that he had left the purchase of the “boarding-house nuisance” in the hands of his attorney.  “I shall have that property,” he announced, emphatically.  “I may not get it for some time, but I shall get it.  I make it a point to get what I go after.”

Emily, in her letters, those written soon after her arrival in South Middleboro, said nothing concerning her plan, the “secret” which was to cheer Mrs. Barnes’ loneliness.  Thankful could not help wondering what the secret might be, but in her own letters she asked no questions.  And, one day in mid-October, that secret was divulged.

Thankful, busy in the kitchen with Imogene, preparing dinner, heard the sound of wheels and horse’s hoofs in the yard.  Going to the door, she was surprised to see Captain Obed Bangs climbing from a buggy.  The buggy was her own and the horse to which it was attached was her own George Washington.  Upon the seat of the buggy was a small boy.  Thankful merely glanced at the boy; her interest just then centered upon the fact that the captain was, or apparently had been, using her horse and buggy without her knowledge or consent.  She certainly had no objection to his so using it, but it was most unlike him to do so.

“Good mornin’, ma’am,” he hailed, cheerfully.  His eyes were twinkling and he appeared to be in high good humor.

“Why, good mornin’, Cap’n,” said Thankful.  “I—­you—­you’re goin’ somewhere, I should judge.”

The captain shook his head.  “No,” he replied, “I’ve been.  Had an errand up to the Centre.  I knew somethin’ was comin’ on the mornin’ train so I drove up to fetch it.  Thought you wouldn’t mind my usin’ your horse and buggy.  Imogene knew I was usin’ it.”