“You—you did?”
“Yes, I did. You should thank me. I am on duty during the day, and I suppose most of that sort of thing will fall on me. You're lucky. Our neighbors aren't likely to make many calls after dark. . . . What's the matter now? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Seth walked to the door and leaned against the post. Brown repeated his question. “What IS the matter?” he asked. “You act just as you did when I first happened into this forsak—this place. If you've got any more hideous secrets up your sleeve I'm going to quit.”
“Secrets!” Atkins laughed, or tried to. “I ain't got any secrets,” he declared, “any more than you have.”
The latter half of this speech shut off further questioning. Brown turned hastily away, and the lightkeeper went into his bedroom and finished dressing.
“Find your shirt?” asked the young man an hour or so later.
“Hey? Yes, yes; I found it.”
“In your room? That's odd. I could have sworn I saw it out here. Is that it you're wearing?”
“Hey? No. That was—was sort of s'iled, so I put on my other one. I—I cal'late I'll go over and work on the Daisy M. a spell, unless you need me.”
“I don't need you. Go ahead.”