"You mean to tell me you know he's that—ah—er-what's-his-name—Eg Phillips come back?"
"Yes, Judah."
"My hoppin' Henry! Why didn't you say so?"
"I didn't know it then, Judah. I found it out afterward, when I went up to the house."
"Yes—but—but you knew it when you and me was eatin' dinner, didn't you? Why didn't you say somethin' about it then?"
"Oh I don't know. It isn't important enough to interfere with our meals, is it?"
Judah slowly shook his head. "It's a dum good thing you wan't around time of the flood, Cap'n Sears," he declared. "'Twould have been the thirty-eighth day afore you'd have cal'lated 'twas sprinklin' hard enough to notice. Afore that you'd have called it a thick fog, I presume likely. If you don't think this Phillips man's makin' port is important enough to talk about you take a cruise down to the store to-night. You'll hear more cacklin' than you'd hear in a henhouse in a week—and all account of just one Egg, too," he added, with a chuckle.
"Caroline told you he had come, I suppose? Well, what does she think of him?"
Judah snorted. "She?" he repeated. "She thinks he's the Angel Gabriel dressed up."