Captain Obed, who had evidently been on the lookout for his passenger, appeared on the platform of the store on the other side of the road.  After asking if she had any other “port of call” in that neighborhood, he assisted her into the carriage and they started on their homeward trip.  The captain must have filled with curiosity concerning the widow’s interview with Mr. Cobb, but beyond asking if she had seen the latter, he did not question.  Thankful appreciated his reticence; the average dweller in Wellmouth—­Winnie S., for instance—­would have started in on a vigorous cross-examination.  Her conviction that Captain Bangs was much above the average was strengthened.

“Yes,” she said, “he was there.  I saw him.  He’s a—­a kind of queer person, I should say.  Do you know him real well, Cap’n Bangs?”

The captain nodded.  “Yes,” he said, “I know him about as well as anybody outside of Trumet does.  I ain’t sure that anybody really knows him all the way through.  Queer!” he chuckled.  “Well, yes—­you might say Sol Cobb was queer and you wouldn’t be strainin’ the truth enough to start a plank.  He’s all that and then consider’ble.”

“What sort of a man is he?”

“Sol?  Hum!  Well, he’s smart; anybody that beats Sol Cobb in a trade has got to get up a long ways ahead of breakfast time.  Might stay up all night and then not have more leeway than he’d be liable to need.”

“Yes, Yes, I’m sure he’s smart in business.  But is he—­is he a good man?”

The captain hesitated before replying.

“Git dap!” he ordered, addressing the horse.  “Good?  Is Sol good?  Well, I cal’late that depends some on what dictionary you hunt up the word in.  He’s pious, sartin.  There ain’t many that report on deck at the meetin’-house more reg’lar than he does.  He don’t cal’late to miss a prayer-meetin’ and when there’s a revival goin’ on he’s right up front with the mourners.  Folks do say that his favorite hymn is ’I’m Glad Salvation’s Free’ and they heave out consider’ble many hints that if ’twa’n’t free he wouldn’t have got it; but then, that’s an old joke and I’ve heard ’em say the same thing about other people.”

“But do you think he’s honest?”

“I never heard of his doin’ anything against the law.  He’ll skin honesty as close as he can, there ain’t much hide left when he gets through; but I cal’late he thinks he’s honest.  And maybe he is—­maybe he is.  It all depends on the definition, same as I said.  Sol’s pious all right.  I cal’late he’d sue anybody that had a doubt as to how many days Josiah went cabin passenger aboard the whale.  His notion of Heaven may be a little mite hazy, although he’d probably lay consider’ble stress on the golden streets, but he’s sot and definite about t’other place.  Yes, siree!” he added, reflectively, “Sol is sartin there’s a mighty uncomf’table Tophet, and that folks who don’t believe just as he does are bound there.  And he don’t mean to go himself, if ‘tendin’ up to meetin’ ’ll keep him clear.