“What did I say? What do you suppose I said? I said no, and I said it good and loud, too.”
Olive made no comment. She turned away her head, and the captain, who now in his turn was watching her, saw a suspicious gleam, as of moisture, on her cheek. He stopped his pacing and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“There, there, Mother,” he said, gently. “Don't cry. He's comin'.”
“Comin'?” She turned pale. “Comin'?” she repeated. “Who?”
“That boy! . . . Sshh! shh!” impatiently. “Now don't go askin' me questions or tellin' me what I just said I said. I SAID the right thing, but—Well, hang it all, what else could I DO? I wrote the boy—Albert—a letter and I wrote the boss of the school another one. I sent a check along for expenses and—Well, he'll be here 'most any day now, I shouldn't wonder. And WHAT in the devil are we goin' to do with him?”
His wife did not reply to this outburst. She was trembling with excitement.
“Is—is his name Albert?” she faltered.
“Um-hm. Seems so.”
“Why, that's your middle name! Do you—do you s'pose Janie could have named him for—for you?”
“I don't know.”