“No. They don't know a thing about it.”
“'Twan't that blasted Pulcifer?”
“No. I should hope not. Now don't ask any more, because I sha'n't tell you. It's a secret, that's all, and it's got to stay that way.”
He looked at her. She returned his look and nodded. She meant what she said and he reluctantly recognized the fact.
“Humph! Well, all right, Martha,” he growled. “But—but will you do this much for me? Will you ask these folks—whoever 'twas bought your two hundred and fifty—if they don't want my four hundred? If they're really buyin', I shouldn't be surprised if they would want it. If they bought it just as a favor to you, and are goin' to hang on and wait—why—why then, maybe they'd do a favor to a friend of yours and your father's afore you. Maybe they will, you can't tell. And you can tell 'em I've had word from—from over yonder that it's all goin' to turn out right. You ask 'em if they don't want to buy my stock, will you, Martha?”
Martha took time for reflection. Then she said: “Cap'n Jeth, if I do ask 'em that, will you promise not to tell a soul a word about my sellin' my stock, or about the money, or anything of the kind? Will you promise that?”
The light keeper nodded. “Sartin sure,” he said. “I'll promise you, Martha.”
“All right, I'll ask, but you mustn't count on anything comin' from it.”
The captain's brows drew together. “What I count on,” he said, solemnly, “is a higher promise than yours or mine, Martha Phipps. What we do down here will only be what them up aloft want us to do. Don't you forget that.”
They parted at the Phipps' gate. Captain Jethro walked moodily home. Lulie met him at the door. She was wearing her hat and coat.