“Stay where you are, boys!  Don’t touch the cards.  I know the door, and can fix it; it’s only the bolt that’s slipped.”

As Bart passed out into the gloom the captain darted forward, seized him with a grip of steel, dragged him clear of the door, and up the sand-dunes out of hearing.  Then he flung him loose and stood facing the cowering boy.

“Now stand back and keep away from me, for I’m afraid I’ll kill you!”

“What have I done?” cringed Bart, shielding his face with his elbow as if to ward off a blow.  The suddenness of the attack had stunned him.

“Don’t ask me, you whelp, or I’ll strangle you.  Look at me!  That’s what you been up to, is it?”

Bart straightened himself, and made some show of resistance.  His breath was coming back to him.

“I haven’t done anything—­and if I did—­”

“You lie!  Martha’s back from Trenton and Lucy told her.  You never thought of me.  You never thought of that sister of hers whose heart you’ve broke, nor of the old woman who nursed her like a mother.  You thought of nobody but your stinkin’ self.  You’re not a man!  You’re a cur! a dog!  Don’t move!  Keep away from me, I tell ye, or I may lose hold of myself.”

Bart was stretching out his hands now as if in supplication.  He had never seen his father like this—­the sight frightened him.

“Father, will you listen—­” he pleaded.

“I’ll listen to nothin’—­”

“Will you, please?  It’s not all my fault.  She ought to have kept out of my way—­”

“Stop!  Take that back!  You’d blame her, would ye—­a child just out of school, and as innocent as a baby?  By God, you’ll do right by her or you’ll never set foot inside my house again!”

Bart faced his father again.

“I want to tell you the whole story before you judge me.  I want to—­”

“You’ll tell me nothin’!  Will you act square with her?”

“I must tell you first.  You wouldn’t understand unless—­”

“You won’t?  That’s what you mean—­you mean you won’t!  Damn ye!” The captain raised his clenched fist, quivered for an instant as if struggling against something beyond his control, dropped it slowly to his side and whirling suddenly, strode back up the beach.

Bart staggered back against the planking, threw out his hand to keep from falling, and watched his father’s uncertain, stumbling figure until he was swallowed up in the gloom.  The words rang in his ears like a knell.  The realization of his position and what it meant, and might mean, rushed over him.  For an instant he leaned heavily against the planking until he had caught his breath.  Then, with quivering lips and shaking legs, he walked slowly back into the house, shutting the big door behind him.

“Boys,” he said with a forced smile, “who do you think’s been outside?  My father!  Somebody told him, and he’s just been giving me hell for playing cards on Sunday.”