A TUG AND A DAUGHTERIN-LAW.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXVI, Issue 10060, 30 January 1909, Page 1 (Supplement)

A TUG AND A DAUGHTER-IN-LAW.

(By Ernest. Poole.

In his diminutive pilot-house MacClanahan jerked the cord oyer his head, a goflg clanged faintly behind him, the stout little tug," Anny Lisle, stopped ehr puffing and drifted slowly into the slip. It was a brisk, salty October ...night; . New York's mighty harbor for miles around was alive witu twinkling lights, shrill toots and deep, commanding bellows; and'through the tumult of-craft large and small' he had been driving his tug with the easy ■ unconcern of a veteran Broadway cabby, swerving, backing water, uttering blasts ot profanity, forging ahead l . He had been a tug oaptain for" twenty-eight years. As"the Anny Lisle drifted into the slip. , which was already crowded with tugs -1 j dock, the bell clanged again and again, , she churned the salt water,' she snorted, blew sparks excitedly into the- night, and ( subsided (as feminine creatures will .'-t times): and floated meekly into her cor- _ ner, without so much as a nudge at hei neighbors. "Captain Mac" was a wizarci j at landings. < ue climbed down out ol his pilot-house and up to the dock, and stood for a 1110- ; ment watching bis crew of three tie "Anny" up for the night. He looked about fifty years old, "tall, heavy-shoul-dered, stooped, long-armed. As he lit his , pipe and the blue smoke curled, his square . bronzed face, with its short, gray beard. . seemed to centre round the contented twinkle of his eyes. For this was fititurday night. , The captain lived in a small gabled house which he owned, on a street not far j from the docks. As- he entered he sniffed certain odorous hints from th" ' basement, smiled broadly, hung up his J pea-jacket and hat, and climbed the low stairs to his bedroom. He sank into the easy chair, put his feet on another, spread J out' his paper, leaned far back. "Hello, Son." "Hello, Dad." The voice from the c other'room was choking, tense and low. x Looking through the open door the cap- c tain could see his tall son, face snowy c with jlather, razor cautiously poised, dim. * was afe tall as his dau, but thin and doubly awkw'ard now in his stifl', white-bosomed s shirt] his head strained back, eyes pain-

fully 'fixed on the mirror. Qxdv the captain's face came a wicked' grin. "Say, Jim," lie drawled, "can she play the pianner?" "Who?" Jim started, his razor slipped, ho glared anxiously into the mirror. "Thunder!" he growled disgustedly; and fumbled about for some court-plaster. '"Can she?" repeated his father. Jim turned 011 him wrathfully. "Can who what? Cim't you see I'm shaving. Dad?*' "My" daughter-in-law to be," repeated the captain easilv. "play fhe pianner. 1 was thinkiiv I'd buy one." "Huh ! . . . . Don't!" "Shucks !" said the captain disjointedly. "Can't she play?" "IMay : of course she can play !'' snapped Jim. - "Then," said liis father softly, "why in the name of Bobby Burns shouldn't 1 buy her a pianner?" '"Because," roared son, "she ain't your daughter-in-law, and the chances are forty to one she won't never be !" He applied the court-plaster. "Oh, Son " "Shet up !" There was a long silence. Under all his jovial outlook on the world the captain was ar man who kept hi? deeper feelings to himself. Two years ago. when his. wife died, though Jim and be had drawn suddenly clos'e, there had been little said between them. Jim w-s already a tug captain then, and through those desolate, hungry months their talk at night had been mostly of their work. When, as time went on, Jim began going out again in the evenings—began, little by little, to drop his old chums and pick up new ones, neighborhood youngsters who were beginning life as gentlemen clerks—old MaeGlanahan kept bis growls to himself. And even when, at the end of another year, Jim brusquely announced his decision to throw up his job and : go into a shipping office down town, the captain, after his first angry start of surprise, had only said slowly : "Well, Son, this is a free country. C'lerkin' wouldn't be my idea —that is, not for a man like you. But I guess you've done a heap of thinking about it. If you've thought wrong you'll find out soon anoiigh. So no ahead." And lie went on reading his paper. • But late that night, after long hours of thinking, the captain had suddenly sat up in bed. "There's a woman in this!" lie thought excitedly. to be my daughter-in-law! Makin' a dude out of Jim!" In the weeks that followed, watching closely, he had grown absolutely sure. Although he never once heard her nariie mentioned, he could feel her in the air. And upon the fluffy, ladylike head of this mysterious creature lie had heaped sott, little maledictions. "Come on, Daughter-in-law to be," be would mutter menacingly. "Marry the innocent feller, try to live in this house an' turn it upside down. "Buy your almighty lace curtains! ■ You'll find a fight on your hands of a kind that may.'surprise you!" 1 And this was no vain boast. For in the Scotch-Iri§h neighborhood, for blocks around, he was known as "Captain Mac;' the boon companiori, doughty political fighter, shrewd' pilot in weather fair and foul. And- the captain, though giving rot so much as a sign of the commotion within him, had grown steadily more indignant at the delay. To see the havoc she. was working, without even a chance to meet her face to face! He thirsted 1 for the fray! To-night, as he watched his son, the intent, calculating look that had appeared in his eyes changed by degrees to one of sheer exasperation. And when, the process of shaving ended, MacClanahan, junior, paused for a full ten minutes in the anxious endeavor to choose between two fancy waistcoats," his father's emotions could'be held down no longer. "Jim,"-he asked sharply, "why don't you go in an' take the blamed girl?" At- this startling proposal Jim turned quickly, looked at his father in withering scorn. "What an-awful lot you, know," he said, "about women. Go "in an' take her ? . How ? Knock her down ?" "No," said the captain coolly, "I'd stop jest short o c that. In the first place,,l'd tel her ——" _ , "Dad," said Son, "I'm much obliged. But, if it's the same to you,'l'll run this thing myself. Your knock-out blow might make a big hit down here;" he added in stifled tones, adjusting a torturing collar."But this partic'ler woman An' she happens to be"—one last squeeze at his neck —"a lady !" "Does she know? . . .. Huh! . . S'pose you bring this partic'ler woman down here, jest try her once, start ner plannin' how she'd.'knock all' the comfort

!, out of this house—nn' see how partie'ler 0 she "is! You'd be married before you could get up steam!", ' . s Jim was surveying his father in widet eyed amazement. • e "Did you ever suppose," lie said slowly, t "that a girl like her would want to live 1 in a place like this?". b . The captain rose with a queer, stunned 3 look in his eyes. "Why, yes, Jim," he said. "I'd kind r of thought so." i ."Well," said his son, "she wouldn't, i She ain't that kind." "Um. That- changes things," 6aid the ■ captain softly. ' That night as old Bess, the cook and 1 general boss of the household,-served their i supper, she shot- curious glances. For tiiey ate in awkward silence. When Jim , had finished. * and. gone his father had a long smoke, staring into the little coal fire - "Good-bye to Jim, eh! . . . . That changes things. . . . You bet." It was Saturday night. By a custom that reached back for over ten years, the neighbors began to drop in. Kven the city of Greater New York had still a few spots where the hive-dwellers were neighbors; - and this was one. The ground floor of the tiny house had only two rooms, but each room had a sinal! open fire, and, as round the back-room , hearth the captain regaled his male cronies upon a concoction of his own making, from time to time he would throw a glance into the front-room group, where his wife's old chums all buzzed as they had in her lifetime, fie had been anxious to keep up her friends. Here was sociability of both sexes, wisely divided, warming the heart. To-night it- was only by a strong effort of will that he forded "himself into his duties as host. But the power of lifelong habit is deep. Hour by hour, here in his. social stronghold, he could feel his old confidence rise. And when, as the midnight bell announced that the Sabbath was come, the party broke up, the captain was quite himself again, ready to foil this thieving "daughter-in-law to be" ; n each and every scheme the had. And the next afternoon, when, with a deal of reddening, swallowing, stammering, Jim announced that the lady had expressed a desire to see the bouse, "just out of being curious" —in fact, even insisted upon it-x-the eyes of his father gleamed in anticipation. "Well?" he asked-. "That's simple, ain't it? I ain't objectiin', -am I? Tell' the lady I'll be delighted. What you hemmin' - an' ha-wiii' about?" ''Because," said Jim desperately, " 1 think she'd rather just—see the house!" | Old Mac started slightly, stared at his . son a moment, then gave a short laugh. "That's -all right, Son," he said quickly. "Comm' to think of it, I was goin' out-, anyhow. Got business on the river." He rose Jiurniedly, muttering something about- "these infernal ships that- -come to dock Sundays." He took his hat. went out, and slammed the door. And five hours later, stiii walking slow ly down by the North River docks, that ' brand-new, stunned expression had notleft- lias eyes. He slept, little that night. He began to get angry. The next morning, driving ' his tug over the waves of the harbor, his , anger rose. And in the week that fol- , lowed, as from his pilot-house he glared j out upon innocent ferries and ships, he . would -give vent- to his ire in blasts pro i longed. | "Can you hear that, Daughter-in-law—-can you hear it-?" he would growl. "Them's my sentiments as to you!" , In the evenings, as was his habit when . deeply disturbed, he plunged into Pick- ■ wick, had begun with grim resolution his .' eleventh reading of Oliver Twist, there came a loud jingle on the bell in the hall- | way. He rose and went to the door. , As he opened l it, a girl outside turned } suddenly down t-he -low steps. { "Hello, hello !" said the captain. t

"What's wrong?" She turned back reluctantly, looked up into his face, seemed trying hard to screw up her courage. "Are you —Captain MacClartahan?" 6he asked. "Her voice was somewhat faint. "I be," he said with a reassuring grin. "What's wrong? Talk out. I don't bite.' "Nothing's wrong," she stammered, "'unless—unless—tit's my coming here. But that isn't wrong! I have u right to! I want, to see you !" The eyes of old .Mac gleamed with sudden liking. "Well?" lie asked. "What about? ' The .girl's face crimsoned. "Your son, Jim," she said desperately. "I'm the—fhe girl lie has asked to marry him !" The captain started back. " Young woman," he said in husky tones, "come in!" She entered; he closed the door and motioned her into the front room. For a moment he towered over her, speechless. In a. dazed 1 sort of way lie noted the trim little figure, the spruce jacket and jauntv hat, rebellious curls oi soft, black hair, n. dubious hint of a smile, two black eyes lboking up half challenging, half appealing. She sat down. Tlie captain was still staring, completely bewildered, but now with a tingling sensation. "To begin with," lie thought, "she's a beaut!" % The "beaut" was blushing furiously. "I left a. note," she began, "for your son. I told him I had to out for a while and asked him to wait. So ht won't come here." In vain the captain strove to think this out- He nodded gravely. "And then?" he asked encouragingly. She looked up. squarely into his eyes—swallowed bard. "And then I came here alone, because I wanted to see what Jim'sfather was like before I said 'Yes' or 'Xo to Jim ' It means a good deal to marry a man, when it's for life? Doesnt- it?" Her hands kept moving nervously. "You want to know all about him first —even 'his father." _ ' "Even his father," repeated, the captain : his mind was now far out'at sea. "But, look here-, if that's how you felt, why diidn't you come long ago?' "Because," she sa.id, "he wouldnt bring me! The more I asked the more obstinate he was, and that made me all the more curious. So at last I simply made him bring me. But—you weren't at home !" Captain MacCl'anahan drew a quick breath. . "Come back here," he said solemnly, and he ushered her into his holy of holies, the back-room den. There he bent over the'fire, threw on some more coal, poked it carefully. And when, at last, he turned his face, it wore a look that put her at once at her ease. 'You ain't the kind I thought you was," be saidi; "not by a long shot-. Whether Jim gets you or not, I'm glad you came. It was the shipshape thing to do! Now,' he added, rising briskly, "how much time we got?" _ _ , "As long as we like. Jim can wa.it.' "Good !" cried' the captain. "S'pose we begin gettin' acquainted." He sat down and' struck a match. "To begin with d'you mind smoke?" "I love it." "Thought so!" He drew 'a few pulls, still somewhat embarrassed-, considering how to begin. "It means a good deal," he said gravely, with just the ghost of a twinkle, "to marry your son to a daughter-in-law when it- s for life. You want to know all about her first." The girl leaned forward, smiling. "EVen heir father," he added. Her faee suddenly changed l . "Mine died —four years ago." She hesitated a moment. "He worked too hard, she added!. There was a painful pause. "Too bad.,"' said the .captain. "Was he in business?" . "Yes—that is—he was a clerk in an office. -But- he wasn't the kind .to get very. high. And mother and I couldn t help wanting more and more. . . So he tried .too hard." The captain smoked' in silence. "I've, seen that happen," he said, "about a. million times. To be honest, that was about what- I thought you'd do to Jim." She started back -with an unsteady laugh : - : "Me? Oh, \n.o, thanks! I've had enough. . . When he died, poor mother stmgglied along, 'doing ladylike work, sewing at home —and cooking —for the Woman's .Exchange,, and hiding it all as if - it: were something to be ashamed. of. Every tim-cJ begiged her to let me. work in an: office, somewhere, or. in a store, it made her half sick. Two years -ago she married again. And "now it's the. ,same thing over—-scrimping, hiding, worrying. No, thanks, I've had enough." \.

r She turned to hinr abruptly. Captain n Mac was beaming with sudden relief. Sho gave him a puzzled, searching look and - broke into a ripple of laughter. * "Did Jinjt give you that idea of me?" , she asked l . The captain looked down at r his shoes. "You've been honest with ine," he said, I "so I'll be with you. But, if I ain't mistaken, you're awful quick-tempered. Bel fore I begin, I 'want you to promise to go slow." "Go slow? How do you mean?" "In passiu' judgment on Jim, . : You'll ■ promise?" "Yes." Captain Mac leaned forward: "I've -known Jim, oft* air on, for seventy - ' seven years, an' I ain't made up my mind about him yet, so I hope you won't, in ' one night. I'll begin with the points ag'in' him.*' He paused a moment, then went on deliberately: ''The reason I wasn't at home the last, time you came was that Jim asked me •to stay away."' The girl gave a slight start. '.The reason he didn't bring yon here'at all till you made him—Jack is ashamed of his dad." She rose slowly, her black eyes snapping in ominous fashion. The captain went oil: "The reason I asked you right off about your own parents was—Jim gave me a -picture of you closely retsemblin that you've given me of your mother. Hold 011! .. . Now. wait. . . Yon don't blame your mother, do you? Of course not. Then don't blame Jim. Sit down." She did. For a moment they looked at each other, in silence. * "Well?" asked the captain. The girl bit her lips. "It's 3wt mice," she'"said, very low, "to find such a wretched tangle of lies—when . I .thought him so honest!" "He is honest! Just you try to keep cool, as you promised. I've give you the points ag'in' him. JSow let's take up the other side. This tangle of lies you speak of only goes to show how .head-over-heels in love he is. You can't judge a boy in that condition. Besides, they ain't iies. Jim believed 'em. An' as long as he did he was i.ight in keepiif me an' you apart. If you had been like your mother, as he thought you was, one look at me would have been plenty for you, an' one look at you would have been more'n enough for me." She had risen again. He gave her a'quick, anxious look: "Tha-itk God, .Jim was wrong," he added. "Sit down ! You ain't married to him yet, the door is handy, escape is easy as wink,in'. If you decide ag'in' him, all right. All I ask is that you gice him : every chance. Because, if you throw him down, it's goin' to be almighty tough on Jim!" "But, don't you see," she exclaimed, "il 1 he thiiiks I'm like my mother he's not in love wsith me; he's in love with somebody efec !'* 1 "That ain't uncommon," said the captain coolly. "My case exactly when I was courtin' Jim's mother. After the weddin' < I found out things that surprised, me. An' so did she. An' we made things fly. An ' when all was said an' done, we got lovin' i each other in a way we'd never known, anythin' about before. Now take Jim's 1 case. I know him as' well as any one 1 e'lse in the world—that is, well enough to 1 know I don't know him all through.' There's surprises of a most staggerin' kind to be found in every human critter, even •in the male sex. Didn't Jim surprise me ' when he left that tug of his, dropped all 1 his oTcl chums, not to mention his dad, an* begun goin' hand-over-hand' up the 1 social ladder, socks of royal purple gaily t wavin' in the breeze, 011 his way to be 1 genteel? Huh? You bet he did!" Old Mac leaned back and mopped his brow. Then he resumed the attack : ; "When I found out about you I thought ] I understood the reason for this amazin' ambition of his. Ah' I think so now. He 1 met you, fell head-over-heels • I don't blame him a' bit. He begfin comin* often I to your mother's ilat, he saw the way you 1

people lived, 1 mean pretended to live, 1 but liow coukl' a boy like him see through it? Wa'n't it natural to think you, yourself, wanted to live the same? Did you ' ever tell him you didn't? You bet yon didn't? Did you ever Bay one word ag'in your mother? You bet you didn't! And now about me. Why shouldn't lie ' think you'd turn up your nose? From what I recollect of niy own corn-tin' 1 didn't spend l hours discussin' my dad. So things nuf on, Jim got tin' more an' more genteel—to suit you. You lettin' him do it. Why? Because you kind of felt the real Jim below decks, ail' begun lovin' him hard in spite of all his newfangled riggin'. So you said nothin', an' he kept on—for the reason that he thought vou liked it The girl wrinkled her brows. "I'm not sure." she said. There was a long silence. "Maybe." admitted the captain. "1 said T wasn't sure myself. This infernal social ladder bizness sets an awful hold sometimes. But, look here,'" he added, as she hung back, ''jest --on help me try an' bring him back to life and get a !'ood look at Jim as he was !" The captain eyed her with a twinkle. "My son Jim will surprise you." lie paid gravely. She smiled. "How do you mean to do it':" she asked. "That,'' he said, "will take some time to think out. An' 1 can always think clearer out on the harbor." His face lighted iip. "Look here, Daiighfer-in-law-to-bo-pi'rhaps. s'pose me an' vou have another talk. Meet ine to-morrow at 2 p.m. on the North Wiver at Tier Forty-two, an' w-e'll have a peaceable afternoon bringin' a ship up ihe bay. How about it?" "I'll come !" cried the girl delightedly. When she had gone the captain refilled his pipe and for over ail hour his eyes held a warm, scheming expression. From time to time lie clnwkled softly. ' But when at last he heard Jim's key lie .seized his Oliver Twist and settled his face into a scowl. Oim started upstairs. "Hello, Bon!" "Hello. Good night." The response was n-luni to the last degree. "Hold on !'' cried his father. "Come in here a minute." Jim appeared' in the doorway. "Well?" he asked. The captain looked up from his book in innocent surprise : "Look here, Son, what's wrong? Can't you trust a blame thing to your dad?" Jim looked down for a moment: "Oh, I'm kind! of anxious, that's all." He turned abruptly, started out. "Shucks !" cried the captain sympathetically. "Some other feller in the race?" There was no response. "Good-night, Son: have a good sleep," he called. "That's the last thing he'll have," he murmured. The scheming look returned. . "Bein' anxious." he thought, ain't always such a bad thing for a man. Lays him open to all kinds of things." One night, on the following week, the captain came home at a late hour. As he climbed the stairs he heard angry creaks from the bed of his eon. He went in. ' "Well, Jim," he said approvingly. "In early? That's good 1." "Is it?" growled Jim. "Don't feel that way. Hello!" he added, as the light 'from the hall showed his father arrayed in. Sunday attire. "What you so slicked up for? Where you been?" "Been helpin' a friend of mine get ready for a weddin'," drawled the captain serenely. All at once his face assumed a look of deep pity. "Speakin" of weddin's," he continued, "i'm gettin' kind of anxious, Son, about that daughter-in-law of mine." The bed fairly shook with-rage. "Why can't you forget your daughter-in-law?" "Well,"/said his father gently, "maybe that-is the best way—for us both. We'll jest try to forget her." He waited till his son's 'anguish had reached its highest pitch. "Still Tie continued, "it would be too bad .to have to forget her, jest out of havin' made some fool mistake." • '" "Who's making mistakes?" "I don't know. Mavbe you be." "Huh!" ' "Jest for instance, all this week you've looked 'specially worried. Ain't anything 'special wrong? "Wrong? 'ft has, always been wrong! Didn't I know it from the start ?" Jim's voice shook with feeling. "You bet-1 did ! She .was way up—where I couldn't get. ' I tried my darnedest, I could feel her beginning to come, my way, an' I was just selfish enough to hang on, hoping the man who was good enough wouldn't show up!" "Has he?" "Looks like it, don't it?' She's been home twice, just twice, in the last seven .nights. The .other five I was told not to '

1 come. She said 6he'd have to be out— with an 'old uncle' of hers that has come .1 to town. I>ld uncle!'' "Maybe he is old. Son." "Maybe! Maybe a girl like her can t- spend five nights out of seven with an old. uncle without yawning herself to , sleep." "That depends on how old he is," sai 1 - the captain indignantly. "Maybe, after > all. he is young, young as you be. An' if he is, the thing for you to do ain't to run away, nor it ain't to go on buttin' yer I head ag'in' a stone wall. You want «o think, think hard, an' be blamed sure you ain't- making some mistuu?!" Jim rose ou one elbow. "What mistake?" he asked savagely. His father looked down, apparently puzzled. "Why," lie said, "in siziif nr. what l.n.d of a man the lady really wants." His sou dropped back in deep disgust. "Don't I know what Kind." "Do you?" ''Oh/ Jeave me alone! It's my owd funeral, ain't it? 1 guess 1 can stand it —somehow !" For over an hour Jim tossed and muttered. Once, out of the darkness, he thought he heard a low chuckle. .Ho sat up angrily, listened, but decided he must have heard wrong. lu the next two weeks, as tHe "old uncle" lingered 011 in the'city ami Jim's anxiety .sharpened, by slow progress his father edged into the position of sympathetic advisor. Jim was loth to grow coutidential : time and again he said lie could run his own business; but as, little by little, the captain revealed a shrewd knowledge of women in general, and of this . particular girl a knowledge almost uncanny, his son let him in. They had 'many short talks. "The old uncle business," Jim announced one evening, "is done with. No uncle at ft)], but a 'new friend' of hers. She says she's surprised at the way she likes him." lie swalloweu bravely. "So much surprised that she thinks it's only fair an' square to us both for her to get better acquainted with him before she decides about me." "All right," said his father* cheerfully ; "the thing for you to do is to find what it is in this other feller she likes, an' supply the same goods." "S'pose I can't supply 'em? S'pose he has what 1 can't never get?" "How d'yon mean?" V'Oh, he's <>ue of them born swells! Durn him !" "How d'you know? Kver seen him?" "No, an' I don't want to! He's one of those fellers horn with a dash ! Clothes—talk —smile —nice little laugh! He—110! Ha—ha! All jest as gentle! .1 hat's him! Ain't it queer how that takes with women?" The captain shoo/ his head savagely. "From what you tell me. of the girl/ he said, "that feller ain't what s..e \.an!s." "Aiift he? Watch her." "How's he workin' it? What do ihr t , ..j evenin's ?" "That's one thing 1 have found out. They ain't stayed in her# flat one night since he begun !" '"Von bet they ain't," chuckled his father; He caught a quick look from his son. "From what **ou say of her mother," he explained hastily, "1 don't wonder he wants to get her away." "Her mother's all right." "Is she? Well, we'll waive that p'nt. The main question is, how does he make his hit? Where does he lake her?'' "That's easy enough," was ' the grim reply. "Broadway shows of the most expensive kind, an' a whole string of swell dances." The captain's face grew suddenly red. "S'pose yon hint round a littfe," he said at last, "the next time yon see her. Find out. Facts beat -guesses hollow." Three days passed. Late one night Jim came home triumphant. "He has made a .mistake this time, anyhow," lie cried. "I'm surprised at the feller's Jack of 6ense!"

, "How?" i "Why," said Jim with a fine contempt, "he's going to take her to-morrow night' i to ono of them cheap, rip-roaring shows ' down, here!—' The Count of Monte' Crist o!" I "Is lie?" aslsed the captain with in- . ! terest. "Well 1 , now, maybe lie ain't so far } off. That used 1 to be one of your favorites, i didn't it? Ain't" me an' you been to see I it a dozen times?" "Yes, an' that's just what- I'm getting away from ! . . If he tries that on ninny times he'll lose !" Over his father's face crept an anxious expression. "Maybe," he said, "an' maybe not. We'll see." "Well?" he asked, two nights later. "How was it?" Jim stared at his father in silence. "She liked the thundering show," he said. There followed a thoughtful pause. "I'm," murmured, his father, "that kind of shakes our figgerin', don't it ?" It did. Jim's entire social scheme of tilings bad been given a heavy jar. In the week that followed his freckled 1 face grew wrinkled and lean with pazzlirH!" Ifrom the girl herself he could gel little enlightenment. Even his father had less than ever to say. Jim was allowwl now to call on .her every night, his rival taking the nights between. On these oft nigliU his state of mind grew so .jo.npletelv befogged that often he I'ooked to iiis dad to pilot him through. But the captain was always out. Only on the other nights, at a late hour, when Jim returned from his call, he invariably found his father sitting up. -And ih y bad a brief smoke. But even here the captain gave a little help. "What's the use tryin'," lie would ask gloomily, "til'l you know what she wants? The trouble with you an' her is—you ain't even acquainted." Oui one such occasion Jim broke the silence with-a harsh I'augh. The captain looked up. "What's so funny?" be asked. "That- critter's taste. Where d'you s'pose he took her to-day? lie must have a queer job—if any—to get olf at- two p.m." "Where?" "Out. oil the harbor!" The captain wheeled round in amazement. "Sounds queer, don't it?" said his son bitterly. "Hut lie did. lie fixed it to get 'em both on a tug. . lie probably owns a fewdozen. An' out they went, kiting all over the place—from Sandy Hook to the Palisades! Cute! All-tired cute! See his ■game? He wanted to get her so dead tired by evening that she could hardly sit- up wiith me!" "We'll?" asked the captain at last. "Did she like it?" "Talked as if slio did." Again tho harsh taugh. "She wasn't bothered much by respect for my feelings. When not yawning, she was -giving .it all, the whole picture, as if I didn't know -a screw from a hawser, as if I'd been a ckrk all my life!" A light flashed over his father's face. "Ain't you proud of bein' a clerk?" bo asked. Jim gave him a startled, look. "All I said," he repeated, "was that she ga.ve me all the details, of course getting every blamed one of 'em wrong. An' then, to season 'em -up, she gave a few yarns—like the ones you tell." "Not the same ones," said the captain uneasily. "Xo," said' son ih surly tones, "they beat anything you ever done in vonr life." His father's eyes twinkled. "I thought so," he nmrmued. "The 1 feller must be a corker at yarns," Jim went on angrily. "We had 'em all. An' I couldn't tell one of my old ones!" "Why not?" "Can't you see? Had' I ever told her that I'd worked on a tug?" The captain drew a quick breath, grew red. "That's so," he said; "I'd forgotten that. The feller did have you, sure!" "All of n sudden," Jim continued, "she broke off an' took a look at me, of the pitying kind that makes a man too mad to think I " 'How. mean I am,' she said, 'to male you listen to all this—when you look so tired. Why, how tired you are!" "I ain't!" 1 said. " 'Oh, yes, yon ate,' she said. 'An' what a pity! A man Ink©, you—to have to be only a clerk, cooped up in a hole of aa office, when other men have such ft splendid life!' < "Mad? You bet I was mad! I told her, right off the bat, that I'd tried her 'splendid life'—been on a tug five years—an' hated the job . . . Then I said good-ni.ght 1" His father gave a long whistlle.

"Wa'n't that a mistake?" h© asked. , "Everything is mistakes!" "But I mean this in partie'lar. To begin Troths : youdidn't ■ hate it, you used to love it, same as X do/' The captain's voice gtew a< trifle- husky. ''Yon got.to ' bft-60<good at it I-began to think maybe, • later on, you'd get what your dad never 1 did —a ship." There was a short silence. r"Secend," he went on, -'"even -s'poee-you 1 did-lute H—or do now,: in these clerkin' \ days. • - Wa'n't" it a mistake to- come out 1 with it? What d'you know of this other . feller? How d'yon know he ain't the kind '- used-to -be T How -d'you know 6he don't like that-kind,- as a <rhapge from j tlfeßfe she's .'been hsvin'? The ocean ain't ,a" gutter-hole. Pfeople have loved it before.'l '* Women have even been proud of bein' sailors wives." '. • 1 ■"She's-riot' that-kind, X tell you! _ cried Jim impatiently. "Anyhow, what-s lie me-rtalkmg? This thing-ain't at alt the < samef' This feller owns tugs! He don t < jest ran 'em ; 'Ton sure f ' "Who else could he be? D you think I for one minute she's the breed of woman_ to marry a common tug ——" he stopped. ' Old ilacClanahan rose slowly. His voice • WSB JoWV . "Look here. Somebody else in this ] room xvjll be mad in a minute—mad. as the allfired bottomless pit! Your mother ' was that'breed of woman, wa'n't she? . . . ' Etr • .. • : "Say!" said Jim hoarsely, rising. 1 . didn't mean that, an' you know it! r ain't fbrgetting what a woman she was!" •-Hfe father him blankly. "Ain't-you?" he^asked." "Sometimes I - ain't sure." 1 'Jim turned away. His face looked ; draw'n and white. "ijad F* he whispered, "can't you see ; how sorry I am. for what I-said? Can't • you see how ctit up I am, anyhow, so I don't know what I'm saying?" The captain turned suddenly, gripped J lis -son's- .hand. • ] : fcere, Jim," he said fiercely, "I know»yon! You're a mail all the time—■ underneath, an' if that woman loves you, or-did, .it's because she has seen-what a fool 'mistake yoo-'ve gone an' -made? How doce thismake you.size up alongside, of that- other criUut? How d'you know he - ain't exactly what you used to be? How j d'you know he's a tug owner?"- - ".She said so/' cried Jim. j . "Well," said his father slowly, "I own ( my tug, don't I?" For some moments Jim stared at him , speechless. - ■ ■ , "That's so," he said. "You do." ] said his father, "take my ad- , vice. You've been guessin' jest about wild ' enough to spoil all your chances. S'pose ( you go in an' collect some facts. Find . oufc-what they really do evenin's, find out ' w&at-tie is, -what kind' of people he comes ' from —where he lives!" -- • 'Another week dragged by. Christmas ! had drawn near. For years the captain's crazy- house had. been the scene of such j Chmstmas Eve parties as made the j many alderman green with envy. This time, absorbed in his daughter-in-liw, he had wholly, forgotten to prepare. And , there were only three days left. - j '-'Suddenly rousing to this fact, Captain | i£ai)isefc to with-jovial zest. Stout bunches , of holly and mistletoe, huge wreaths and s garlands of- *green, Christmas trees large and'em&Uj- aU-came in pell-mell, till the j h<raieifrom cellar to roof was one fresh, < spicy-chabe. A few select youngsters were .

■asked in to help, ■ and each evening the work -went merrily on. -Jim paid little heed. In former years he -had been a willing- assistant, but now tbe contrast between his own feelings and tho- approaching festivities made him set - His voice was choking. ■""Don't.be mad if I get out before the fun begm&iT :*lt's a. little more'n I can stand !" rose in surprise. ; ,f Why?" ihe'asked. "Why? Because of what she's doing to-night!" There was a short pause. "Yon mean," said the captain gently, "she Via via* a Christmas jamberee up at her 'home!"' "No! That's just it! She ain't never had one! The flat's too small an' there ain't any kids. So now she's half crazy abirat it.' An' he saw she was, confound trim; arf he has invited her to the Christmas: at his home —to finish off the bn.si afess-!"' "'•His father sat down, deeply discouraged. ''Where is the darned feller's home?" he asked. "In a house!" snapped son. "A reg'lar house ! An' she says there's a perfect- raft of kids coming. She says 6he can hardly wait!'" "Maybe," suggested the captain forlornly, . "she won't like the house when she sees ft."- Jim snorted. "Like it? Ain't she been there half the week helping 'em trim the tree an' all the rest? Like it She says that, nowadays, the very idea of a flat makes her mad. That settles things, don't it? Looks kind of as though she'd made up her mind. An' it also gives a knockout blow to that other -idea of yours—that the feller ain't rich!" "How?" "Why," cried Jim, "did yon ever hear of a tug captain owning a house like that?"- - """Yes," said his father grimly, "I have. An' so have you.'-' He took his son's arm. "Look here, Jim," he said, "ain't it time -this thing was ended?" His voice shook : with suppressed excitement. He raised has - voice as though addressing somebody out in the hall: "This impudent, stony, young woman of yours, ain't she tormented you 'long enough? Why don't you ?igo. right to her an" face her like : the man, that you are, an' face that other feller, too, an' make her: choose between you? Ain't you man enough ?"- Jim drew ihiniself slowly- to his full height, and as he-faced the captain the old-£nap- came twinkling i£to his eyes. - 'Sited," he said-, "I guess you're right. Anyhow—Hl do it!" 1 _-. - The captain, threw a quick side glance, a glance as «ccited- as though the- Anny Lisle were plunging through seas that were simply terrific. With a mighty effort regaining - control, he turned back and eyed- his son. • ■"Well," he said solemnly, "you're doin' it—now." The next instant he had a tight grip on somebody's arm. •"Young-woman," he cried in menacing tones, "choose—between that other feller —an' my-son Jim!" Somebody -gasped. Jim sprang back. And the next-moment hia arms received a sensation 'so utterly strange and new that he-dosed them—tighter and tighter; eyes, mind,-body and soul all spinning around. "Easy," cried a stern, shaking, old voice; "easy there!" And Captain Mac skipped out of the room. Down in the kitchen he seized Bess, the astonished old cook, and waltzed her gravely round and Tound till she came to a -sharp, - indignant halt. He vigorously mopped his - forehead and eyes, took a the clock. - - r 'SHeflo,"- he cried. 'Sere's Christmas ! In :about fire minutes those kids will be pourin' all over the house." And he hurried upstairs to give warning. Ik the hatt he stopped and listened, heard.riot'asound, but shook with glee. i;t""Shirp r ahoy!" he called out at last. 'Ship: ahoy!" he repeated. . "Speak up when -you're - hailed! : I'm the old tug, Angiyi lisle, 1 ' who --got you safe out of the harbor—come to 1 say good-bye!" •/•■Still-j» 'Miply..: Only odd noises. "Look here," Toared the captain. "You cock young ship, are you goin' to throw off the tow without even a word !;Hello!" "Hello!" canto -a voice from the other room, a voicelow and vibrating with gladness.- ''Anny Ldsle, ahoy! We want .a tow—over the 6ea! Dome alongside!" "~33ie taptain'6 face fell. - - "Qin't take the job," he called. "Too ol<J£>;Get another tug." "like thunder we will!" shouted somebodj£«lsfc~ ."Come alongside!" And a few moments later, in the mad-desfc-jumble'of unsteady voices and mistletoexdomga and laughter, Christmas , was welLr mkter way! And' the voyage had begun!::- -