"
"Speakin' of his writin' to Joshua," said Doane, "I have heard such a
sound as that he used to shine up to Joshua's Susan, years back. But
that's all ended now. You won't catch Susan marryin' no jailbirds."
"But how will he live?" said the doctor. "Will anybody give him work?"
"Let him alone for livin'," said Doane. "He can ketch more fish than any
other two men in the place--allers seemed to kind o' hev a knack o'
whistlin' 'em right into the boat. And then Nelson Briggs, that settled
up his mother's estate, allows he's got over a hundred and ten dollars
for him, after payin' debts and all probate expenses, and that and the
place is all he needs to start on."
"I will go to see him," said the doctor to himself, as he went out upon
the requisition of a grave man in a red tippet, who had just come for
him. "He doesn't look so very dangerous, and I think he can be tamed. I
remember that his mother told me about him."
Late that night, returning from his seven miles' drive, as he left the
causeway, built across a wide stretch of salt-marsh, crossed the
rattling plank bridge and ascended the hill, he saw a light in the
cottage window, where he had often been to attend Aunt Lois. "I will
stop now," said he. And, tying his horse to the front fence, he went
toward the kitchen door. As he passed the window, he glanced in.
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