His sweeping mustache was black; and such hair as was visible showed none of the iron gray of advancing age in it. He wore gold rings in his ears and to cap his piratical-looking figure was a red bandana worn turbanwise upon his head.
"What's the matter with you, young feller? Cat got your tongue?" demanded the stranger.
"Well, of all things!" finally gasped Lawford. "I thought you were
Cap'n Abe. But you're not. You must be Cap'n Amazon Silt."
"That's who I be," agreed the other.
"His brother!"
"Ain't much like Abe, eh?" and Cap'n Amazon smiled widely.
"Only your voice. That is a little like Cap'n Abe's. Well, I declare!" repeated Lawford, coming deliberately up the steps.
Cap'n Amazon rose briskly and led the way into the store. The fog was clearing with swiftness and a ray of sunlight slanted through a dusty window with sufficient strength to illumine the shelves behind the counter.
"Those boxes yonder are where Cap'n Abe keeps his fishhooks. But isn't he here?"
"He's off," Cap'n Amazon replied. "Up anchor'd and sailed 'bout soon's I come. Been ready to go quite a spell, I shouldn't wonder. Had his chest all packed and sent it to the depot by a wagon. Walked over himself airly to ketch the train. These the hooks, son?"