Captain Josh almost camped in the rectory kitchen. When not there, he was wandering about the door-yard right in front of Rod's window. He ate and slept at the Anchorage, but that was about all.
"It's my fault that the boy is sick," he told his wife, "and it's up to me to be on hand in case of need. Jimmy kin look after things around here while I'm away."
Numerous were the visitors who came to the rectory to enquire about the sick boy. Tom Dunker was one of them, and he found the captain on guard at the back-door.
"How's Rod to-day, cap'n?" he asked.
"No better," was the gruff reply. "Had a bad night."
"I'm real sorry, cap'n, I surely am," Tom blubbered. "To think that he did it all fer my Sammy."
"How is yer kid?" the captain questioned.
"He's better, thank the Lord. The doctor got there jist in time. But fer you and Rod he'd be dead now."
"Cut that out, Tom. I'm not used to sich stuff."
"But I can't help it, cap'n," the visitor sniffled. "I can't sleep at nights fer thinkin' of it all. I shan't fergit it in a hurry, oh, no."