"Celia Curtin that was," explained Mrs. Pentle. "I knew you as a boy."
"I know," said Peter. And then he almost smiled: "And no girl in Gloucester ever better able to take care of herself!"
"If I could get you something to do in my store, would you take it, captain? If it was fit work, I mean, for a man?"
"It wouldn't have to be fit—I'll trim bonnets for ladies before I go back to fishin'," said Peter, "and thank you for the chance."
Peter passed out with his crew.
Mrs. Pentle turned to Mr. Duncan.
"So that's settled! I shall telephone you, Mr. Duncan, about Captain Crudden's place in my store—the work will not be disagreeable."
Mr. Duncan and Fred watched Mrs. Pentle's car racing up the street; and then Fred said:
"Mr. Duncan, Peter didn't look like any magazine cover of a hero I've seen lately, but—sitting there on that bench awhile ago—did you take a look at Mrs. Pentle's face while he was telling the story of that wreck?"
Mr. Duncan looked at his old bookkeeper.