“Hello, Captain!” he said, holding out his hand. “Lively for a while, wasn't it? They tell me you were the man who suggested pulling down the shed. It saved the day, all right enough.”
“You look as if you'd been workin' some yourself. Was you one of the fellers that got that anchor in on this side?”
“He was THE one,” broke in Mr. Wingate, who was standing at Hazeltine's elbow. “He waded in with an ax and stayed there till I thought he'd burn the hair off his head. Web ought to pay you and him salvage, Eri. The whole craft would have gone up if it hadn't been for you two.”
“I wonder if they got that pool table out,” laughed Ralph. “They did everything but saw it into chunks.”
“I never saw Bluey Bacheldor work so afore,” commented the Captain. “I wish somebody'd took a photograph of him. I'll bet you could sell 'em round town for curiosities. Well, I can't be standin' here.”
“If you're going home I'll go along with you. I may as well be getting down toward the station. The excitement is about over.”
“I ain't goin' right home, Mr. Hazeltine. I've got an errand to do. Prob'ly I'll be goin' pretty soon, though.”
“Oh, all right! I'll wait here a while longer then. See you later perhaps.”
The fog had lifted somewhat and as the Captain, running silently, turned into the “shore road,” he saw that the light in the Baxter homestead had not been extinguished. The schoolhouse bell had ceased to ring, and the shouts of the crowd at the fire sounded faintly. There were no other sounds.
Up the driveway Captain Eri hurried. There were no lights in the lower part of the house and the dining-room door was locked. The kitchen door, however, was not fastened and the Captain opened it and entered. Shutting it carefully behind him, he groped along to the entrance of the next room.