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"I did my best to keep the Guild out of the conversation," she said, "but that Fenholtz woman had to drag it in, and now, of course, I've got to take that Dott person to the next meeting and introduce her to everybody, and I suppose I shall have to see that she is made a member. Oh, dear! I almost wish I had never seen Trumet." B. Phelps grunted. "Humph!" he said.
Remembering what he had seen in the grove he could not understand; but he also remembered, even more vividly, what Keziah Coffin had promised to do if he ever breathed a word. And he vowed again that that word should not be breathed. The death and funeral of Captain Eben furnished Trumet with a subject of conversation for a week or more.
The tide at Trumet, on the bay side, goes out for a long way, leaving uncovered a mile and a half of flats, bare and sandy, or carpeted with seaweed. Between these flats are the channels, varying at low water from two to four feet in depth, but deepening rapidly as the tide flows. The flats fascinated the young minister, as they have many another visitor to the Cape, before or since.
"Daddy, dear," she said, "you're as transparent as a window pane, aren't you. Well, don't worry any more. That will be all right pretty soon, too. Mrs. Black doesn't stay in Trumet all the year." Her father gasped. That this child of his, whom he had always regarded as a child, should dive into the recesses of his soul and drag to light its most secret misgivings was amazing.
The summer in Trumet drowsed on, as Trumet summers did in those days, when there were no boarders from the city, no automobiles or telephones or "antique" collectors. In June the Sunday school had its annual picnic.
"We was over on the long stretch of wood road between Trumet and Denboro, nice hard macadam, the mare her name was Celia, but Jonadab had re-christened her Bay Queen after a boat he used to own skimmin' along at a smooth, easy gait, when, lo and behold you! we rounds a turn and there ahead of us is a light, rubber-tired wagon with a man and woman on the seat of it.
I'll sneak out about quarter to twelve and borrow Thankful's horse and buggy out of her barn. I know where she keeps the key. I'll be ready here at twelve prompt or not here, maybe, but down in the hollow back of your henhouse. You must be there and we'll drive over to Trumet " "Trumet! Why, Caleb Hammond, I know everybody in Trumet well's I do here.
And from Trumet to Ostable he journeyed, buying a chair here and a table there, braided rag mats from this one, and corded bedsteads and "rising sun" quilts from that. At least half of Bayport believed with Gabe Lumley and Miss Phinney that, if Captain Cy had not escaped from a home for the insane, he was a likely candidate for such an institution.
One time there I didn't know but I'd have to reef, cal'late I would if I'd known how to reef an automobile." "Is the car running as well as ever?" asked Albert. "You bet you! Took all but two of those hills on full steam and never slowed down a mite. Think of goin' to Trumet and back in a forenoon, and havin' time enough to do the talkin' I went to do besides.
Ellery, you don't exaggerate. Queer? Some folks think your goin' to that meetin' last night QUEER? At this moment one half of Trumet is talkin' about it and runnin' out to tell the other half. I guess I'd better hurry up with this breakfast. We're goin' to have callers." Strange to say, however, this prophecy of early morning visitors did not prove true.
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