THE ARRIVAL
XX. THE LIE
XXI. AT SWORDS' POINTS
XXII. A WAY OUT
XXIII. A CALL UNANNOUNCED
XXIV. EUNEZ PARETA
XXV. TO LOVE AND BE LOVED
XXVI. ELDER MINNETT HAS HIS SAY
XXVII. CAP'N IRA SPEAKS OUT
XXVIII. GONE
XXIX. ON THE TRAIL
XXX. THE STORM
XXXI. BITTER WATERS
XXXII. A GIRL TO THE RESCUE
XXXIII. A HAVEN OF REST
CHAPTER I
CAP'N IRA AND PRUE
Seated on this sunshiny morning in his old armchair of bent hickory,
between his knees a cane on the head of which his gnarled hands
rested, Captain Ira Ball was the true retired mariner of the old
school. His ruddy face was freshly shaven, his scant, silvery hair
well smoothed; everything was neat and trig about him, including his
glazed, narrow-brimmed hat, his blue pilot-cloth coat, pleated shirt
front as white as snow, heavy silver watch chain festooned upon his
waist-coat, and blue-yarn socks showing between the bottom of his
full, gray trouser legs and his well-blacked low shoes.
For Cap'n Ira had commanded passenger-carrying craft in his day, and
was a bit of a dandy still. The niceties of maritime full dress were
as important to his mind now that he had retired from the sea to
spend his remaining days in the Ball homestead on Wreckers' Head as
when he had trod the quarter-deck of the old _Susan Gatskill_, or
had occupied the chief seat at her saloon table.
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