“Well,” he stammered, “I ain't exactly found it—but—”
“But what?”
“I—I'm cal'latin' to find it, Hannah.”
“Yes, I know. You're cal'latin' to get to Heaven some time or other, I s'pose, but if the path is as narrow and crooked as they say 'tis I should be scared if I was you. You'll find a way to lose it, if there is one. Oh, dear me!” with a sudden change to a tone almost pleading. “Be you goin' to smoke again?”
Kenelm's reply was strange for him. He scratched a match and lit his pipe with calm deliberation.
“I'm cal'latin' to,” he said, cheerfully. And his sister, to the surprise of Mrs. Barnes and Emily, did not utter another word of protest.
Captain Obed volunteered to accompany them to the hotel and to the store of Mr. Badger. On the way Thankful mentioned Mr. Parker's amazing independence in the matter of the pipe.
The captain chuckled. “Yes,” he said, “Kenelm smokes when he wants to, and sometimes when he don't, I guess, just to keep his self-respect. Smokin' is one p'int where he beat out Hannah. It's quite a yarn, the way he done it is. Some time I'll tell it to you, maybe.”
The hotel—it was kept by Darius Holt, father of Winnie S.—was no more inviting than Miss Parker's and Captain Bangs' hints had led them to expect. But Thankful insisted on engaging a room for the night and on returning there for dinner, supper and breakfast the following day.
“After that, we'll see,” she said. “Now let's go and make a call on that rent collector of mine.”