Mary-'Gusta—the little girl, I mean. You must have noticed the change in his relations with you."

Mr. Hamilton sighed. "Yes," he said, "we noticed he never came to see us and—and—"

"And wasn't over'n above sociable when we come to see him," finished Captain Shadrach. "Yes, we noticed that. But I say, Judge, he must have had SOME money left. What became of it?"

"Goodness knows! He was a child, so far as money matters went, in his later years. Very likely he frittered it away in more stock ventures; I know he bought a lot of good for nothing mining shares. At any rate it has gone, all except a few thousands. The house and land where he lived is mortgaged up to the handle, and I imagine there are debts, a good many of them. But whatever there is is left to Mary-'Gusta—everyone calls her that and I seem to have caught the habit. It is left to her—in trust."

Captain Shadrach thought this over. "In trust with you, I presume likely," he observed. "Well, as I said afore, he couldn't have found a better man."

"HE thought he could, two better men. I rather think he was right. You are the two, gentlemen."

This statement did not have the effect which the Judge expected. He expected exclamations and protests. Instead his visitors looked at each other and at him in a puzzled fashion.

"Er—er—what was that?" queried Mr. Hamilton. "I didn't exactly seem to catch that, somehow or 'nother."

Judge Baxter turned to the Captain.

"You understood me, didn't you, Captain Gould?" he asked.

Shadrach shook his head.

"Why—why, no," he stammered; "it didn't seem to soak in, somehow. Cal'late my head must have stopped goin'; maybe the shock I had a spell ago broke the mainspring. All I seem to be real sartin of just now is that the Campbells are comin'. What was it you said?"

"I said that Captain Marcellus Hall has left whatever property he owned, after his creditors are satisfied, to his stepdaughter. He has left it in trust until she becomes of age. And he asks you two to accept that trust and the care of the child. Is that plain?"

It was plain and they understood. But with understanding came, apparently, a species of paralysis of the vocal organs. Zoeth turned pale and leaned back in his chair. Shadrach's mouth opened and closed several times, but he said nothing.

"Of course," went on Baxter, "before I say any more I think you should be told this: It was Captain Hall's wish that you jointly accept the guardianship of Mary-'Gusta—of the girl—that she live with you and that you use whatever money comes to her from her stepfather's estate in educating and clothing her. Also, of course, that a certain sum each week be paid you from that estate as her board. That was Marcellus's wish; but it is a wish, nothing more. It is not binding upon you in any way. You have a perfect right to decline and—"

Captain Shadrach interrupted.

"Heave to!" he ordered, breathlessly. "Come up into the wind a minute, for mercy sakes! Do you mean to say that me and Zoeth are asked to take that young-one home with us, and take care of her, and dress her, and—and eat her, and bring her up and—and—"

He paused, incoherent in his excitement. The Judge nodded.

"Yes," he replied, "that is what he asks you to do. But, as I say, you are not obliged to do it; there is no legal obligation. You can say no, if you think it best."

"If we think—for thunder sakes, Baxter, what was the matter with Marcellus? Was he out of his head? Was he loony?"

"No, he was perfectly sane."

"Then—then, what—Zoeth," turning wildly to Mr. Hamilton, who still sat, pale and speechless, in his chair; "Zoeth," he demanded, "did you ever hear such craziness in your life? Did you ever HEAR such stuff?"

Zoeth merely shook his head. His silence appeared to add to his friend's excitement.

"Did you?" he roared.

Zoeth muttered something to the effect that he didn't know as he ever did.

"You don't know! Yes, you do know, too. Speak up, why don't you? Don't sit there like a ship's figgerhead, starin' at nothin'. You know it's craziness as well's I do. For God sakes, say somethin'! TALK!"

Mr. Hamilton talked—to this extent:

"Hush, Shadrach," he faltered. "Don't be profane."

"Profane! Pup-pup-profane! You set there and—and—Oh, jumpin', creepin' Judas! I—I—" Language—even his language—failed to express his feelings and he waved his fists and sputtered. Baxter seized the opportunity.

"Before you make your decision, gentlemen," he said, "I hope you will consider the situation carefully. The girl is only seven years old; she has no relations anywhere, so far as we know. If you decline the trust a guardian will have to be appointed by the courts, I suppose. Who that guardian will be, or what will become of the poor child I'm sure I don't know. And Captain Marcellus was perfectly sane; he knew what he was doing."

Shadrach interrupted.

"He did!" he shouted. "Well, then, I must say—"

"Just a minute, please, I have a letter here which he wrote at the time he made his will. It is addressed to both of you. Here it is. Shall I read it to you, or had you rather read it yourselves?"

Zoeth answered. "I guess maybe you'd better read it, Judge," he said. "I don't cal'late Shadrach nor me are capable of readin' much of anything just this minute. You read it. Shadrach, you be still now and listen."

The Captain opened his mouth and raised a hand. "Be still, Shadrach," repeated Zoeth. The hand fell. Captain Gould sighed.

"All right, Zoeth," he said. "I'll keep my batch closed long's I can. Heave ahead, Judge."

The letter was a long one, covering several sheets of foolscap. It began:

To Shadrach, Gould and Zoeth Hamilton, my old partners and friends.

DEAR SHAD AND ZOETH:

I am writing this to you because I have known you pretty much all my life and you are the only real friends I have got in this world.

"I was his friend, or I tried to be," commented Baxter, interrupting his reading; "but he considered you two, and always spoke of you, as his oldest and nearest friends. He has often told me that he knew he could depend on you. Now listen."

The letter went on to state that the writer realized his health was no longer good, that he was likely to die at any time and was quite reconciled.

I should be glad to go [Captain Hall had written], if it was not for one thing. Since my wife was took from me I care precious little for life and the sooner it ends the better. That is the way I look at it. But I have a stepdaughter, Mary Augusta Lathrop, and for her sake I must stick to the ship as long as I can. I have not been the right kind of father to her. I have tried, but I don't seem to know how and I guess likely I was too old to learn. When I go she won't have a relation to look out for her. That has troubled me a lot and I have thought about it more than a little, I can tell you. And so I have decided to leave her in your care. I am hoping you will take charge of her and bring her up to be a good girl and a good woman, same as her mother was before her. I know you two will be just the ones for the job.

"Jumpin' fire!" broke in Shadrach, the irrepressible.

"Hush, Shadrach," continued Mr. Hamilton. "Go on, Judge."

Baxter continued his reading. The letter told of the will, of the property, whatever it might be, left in trust for the child, and of the writer's desire that it might be used, when turned into money, for her education. There were two pages of rambling references to stocks and investments, the very vagueness of these references proving the weakening shrewdness and lack of business acumen of Captain Hall in his later years. Then came this:

When this first comes to you I know you will both feel you are not fitted to take charge of my girl. You will say that neither of you has had any children of his own and you have not got experience in that line. But I have thought it over and I know I am right. I