Miss Letty had not gotten out of the buggy. She turned King’s head.
“Thought I’d leave Sidney here while I gave my lessons,” she explained briefly and then clucked to King.
Mrs. Davies took Sidney into her part of the house. It was cool and dark and sweet-smelling and very, very neat. Sidney sat down in a stiff rocker and answered Mrs. Davies’ questions concerning her Aunt Achsa and Lavender, while Cap’n Davies stumped restlessly about.
“Now I cal’late you’ve heard enough, Elizy, and I’m goin’ to carry my little shipmate off and show her my part o’ the old hull.”
Elizy accepted his suggestion with a smile and admitted that she had to finish up her work. Immensely relieved Sidney followed Cap’n Davies. With the enthusiasm of a boy he took her to the front rooms of the house and showed her his treasured possessions. There was not a corner of the globe that had not contributed something to his collection of mementoes. And each meant to the old seafarer, not its own intrinsic value, but a certain voyage. “I got that when we took a cargo to Shanghai. Roughest v’yage I ever ran into,” and “I picked that up when we had to lay to at Buenos Aires ’cause every man jack in the fo’castle had small-pox,” or “found that when Elizy shipped with me on the old Amanda L. Downs. Forget just where—” and so on.
In the cupola on the roof that Cap’n Davies called his lookout and where he spent most of his time, he had put the paraphernalia from the Viking, his last boat. He had rigged up a bunk so that he could even sleep there when he fancied. He explained that he never let Elizy “tidy up.” “When I get a notion I fix things shipshape myself, but I ain’t had a notion now in sometime.” Sidney could see that. Yet the littered room had an individuality that Elizy’s own spotless quarters lacked.
“Now set down on that bunk and let me have a look at you,” the Cap’n commanded, seating himself in an old swivel chair that creaked and trembled under his weight. “’Pears to me you’ve picked up quite a bit!” He smiled his approval and nodded his great head. “Yes, they ain’t starvin’ you and I’d say you’d been runnin’ in the sun and there ain’t anything that can beat our Cape sun for bringin’ out roses on bushes and little gal’s cheeks.” He beamed with satisfaction over his long speech. “Now, tell me, how’s the pirates? Seen any?”
His question came so suddenly that Sidney started. She hesitated, then answered slowly. “Yes, I have.”
“Well, I’ll be dumblasted!” exclaimed the captain, plainly astonished by her answer. He had spoken only in pleasant chaff and had not thought Sidney would take him seriously.
“At least—” Sidney amended, “I think I’ve seen some. I told Lavender and Mart they’re pirates or—or something, and we’re going to watch every move Jed Starrow makes, at least every chance we get—”