The train was nearly an hour late this evening, owing to a hot box, and the “ex-seafaring man” and his two friends peered anxiously out at it from around the corner of the station. The one coach stopped directly under the lights, and they could see the passengers as they came down the steps. Two or three got out, but these were men. Then came an apparition that caused Captain Jerry to gasp and clutch at Perez for support.
Down the steps of the car came a tall, coal-black negress, and in her hand was a canvas extension case, on the side of which was blazoned in two-inch letters the fateful name, “M. B. Snow, Nantucket.”
Captain Eri gazed at this astounding spectacle for a full thirty seconds. Then he woke up.
“Godfrey domino!” he ejaculated. “BLACK! BLACK! Run! Run for your lives, 'fore she sees us!”
This order was superfluous. Captain Jerry was already half-way to the fence, and going at a rate which bid fair to establish a record for his age. The others fell into his wake, and the procession moved across country like a steeplechase.
They climbed over stone walls and splashed into meadows. They took every short cut between the station and their home. As they came in sight of the latter, Captain Perez' breath gave out almost entirely.
“Heave to!” he gasped. “Heave to, or I'll founder. I wouldn't run another step for all the darkies in the West Indies.”
Captain Eri paused, but it was only after a struggle that Captain Jerry was persuaded to halt.
“I shan't do it, Eri!” he vowed wildly. “I shan't do it! There ain't no use askin' me; I won't marry that black woman! I won't, by thunder!”
“There! there! Jerry!” said Captain Eri soothingly. “Nobody wants you to. There ain't no danger now. She didn't see us.”