“You mean you have an idea that he is still living?”
“I can’t say as to that, but if you’ll only help me I am certain that we shall find out something interesting.”
Miss Pipkin drew the corner of her apron 184 across the corner of her eyes, disappointment written deeply in every line and wrinkle of her face.
“There ain’t much more to tell. Adoniah went to sea. I got a letter from him once from Australia. I wrote back saying I’d take back what I’d said. He answered it, but didn’t say nothing about what I said to him. He spoke of meeting up with some one he knew, saying they was going in business together. I ain’t never told anybody about that, not even Josiah, and I ain’t going to tell you, for I don’t think he was square with Adoniah, but I can’t prove it.”
The thud of heavy boots on the rear stair checked further comment she seemed inclined to make, and she dried out the tears that stood in her eyes with short quick dabs as she hurried to the kitchen.
“Lan’ of mercy!” she exclaimed, returning with a smoking waffle-iron. “I clean forgot these, and they’re burned to ashes. Here, don’t you drink that cold coffee, I’ll heat it up again,” she said, taking the cup. Leaning closely to his ear, she whispered, “Mind, you 185 ain’t to tell a living soul about what I said, and him above all others.”
The minister nodded.
Miss Pipkin entered the kitchen just as the Captain opened the stair-door. He sniffed the air as he greeted the two with a hearty “Good morning.”
“Purty nigh never woke up. You’d otter have come up and tumbled me out, Mack.”
“Rest well, did you?”