I remember that. Good
land! I ought to remember the only critter on earth that ever ASKED me
to sing. Ho! ho! but you was a little towheaded shaver then; and now
look at you! What are you doin' away down here?"
John Kendrick shook his head. "I don't know that I'm quite sure myself,
Captain," he said. "I have some suspicions, of course, but they may not
be confirmed. First of all I'm going over to East Wellmouth; so just
excuse me a minute while I speak to the driver of the bus."
He was hurrying away, but his companion caught his arm.
"Heave to, John!" he ordered. "I've got a horse and a buggy here myself,
such as they are, and unless you're dead sot on bookin' passage in
Winnie S.'s--what did you call it?--bust--I'd be mighty glad to have you
make the trip along with me. No, no. 'Twon't be any trouble. Come on!"
Five minutes later they were seated in the buggy and George Washington
was jogging with dignified deliberation along the road toward East
Wellmouth.
"And why," demanded Captain Obed, "have you come to Wellmouth again,
after all these years?"
Mr. Kendrick smiled.
"Well, Captain Bangs," he said, "it is barely possible that I've come
here to stay."
"To stay! You don't mean to stay for good?"
"Well, that, too, is possible. Being more or less optimistic, we'll hope
that if I do stay it will be for good. I'm thinking of living here."
His companion turned around on the seat to stare at him.
"Livin' here!" he repeated. "You? What on earth--? What are you goin' to
do?"
The passenger's eyes twinkled, but his tone was solemn enough.
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