"Matter? With me?"
"Yes, with you. You're short as Aunt Nabby's pie crust. Have I done anything you don't like? If I have I'll apologize before I know what it is. It wasn't done on purpose, you can be sure of that."
Kent started, colored, and was much perturbed. "I didn't realize I was short, Cap'n Kendrick," he declared. "I beg your pardon. I am mighty sorry. No—no, of course you haven't done anything I don't like. I don't believe you could."
"You never can tell. But so far I haven't tried. Not sick, are you?"
"No ... I'm just—oh, nothing. I'm in a little trouble, that's all. My own fault, maybe, I don't know."
"Probably it is. Most of our troubles are our own fault, in one way or another. Well, if there's anything I can do to help out, just give me a hail."
"Thanks. But I'm afraid there isn't."
He turned and walked down the platform once more. Mrs. Captain Orrin Eldridge, who was to sell tickets, came, and, after greeting the captain cordially, went in to open and light the ticket-office at the foot of the stairs. Two more members of the cast, Erastus Snow and Mrs. Bassett, arrived and went up to prepare. Suddenly Kent, who had been standing at the farther end of the platform, came back.
"Captain Kendrick," he said, "would you mind answering a question?"
"Eh? Why, not a bit, George. But perhaps yours may be one of those questions I can't answer."