“I thought as much. Down here on Cape Cod, and givin' orders the way I heard you afore you come into this room, 'twas nine chances to one you was a cap'n, or you had been one. Bangs—Bangs—Obed Bangs? Why, that name sounds kind of familiar. Seems as if—Cap'n Bangs, you didn't use to know Eben Barnes of Provincetown, did you?”
“Eben Barnes? Cap'n Eben of the White Foam, lost off Cape Hatteras in a gale?”
“Yes, that's the one. I thought I heard him speak of you. He was my husband.”
Captain Obed Bangs uttered an exclamation. Then he stepped forward and seized Mrs. Barnes' hand. The lady's hand was not a very small one but the Captain's was so large that, as Thankful remarked afterward, it might have shaken hers twice at the same time.
“Eben Barnes' wife!” exclaimed Captain Obed. “Why, Eben and I was messmates on I don't know how many v'yages! Well, well, well, ma'am, I'm real glad to see you.”
“You ain't so glad as we are to see you—and your friend,” observed Thankful, drily. “Is he a captain, too?”
He didn't look like one, certainly. He had removed his sou'wester, uncovering a round head, with reddish-gray hair surrounding a bald spot at the crown. He had a double chin and a smile which was apologetic but ingratiating. He seemed less frightened than when he first entered the room, but still glanced about him with evident apprehension.
“No—no, ma'am,” he stammered, in answer to the question. “No, ma'am, I—I—my name's Parker. I—I ain't a cap'n; no, ma'am.”
“Kenelm ain't been promoted yet,” observed Captain Obed gravely. “He's waitin' until he get's old enough to go to sea. Ain't that it, Kenelm?”
Kenelm smiled and shifted his sou'wester from his right hand to his left.