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Updated: July 11, 2025
Brown hastened to the rear of the vehicle, on the canvas side of which were painted the words "Henry G. Goodspeed, Groceries, Dry and Fancy Goods and Notions, Eastboro," and peered in over the tailboard. The interior of the wagon was well nigh filled by a big box with strips of board nailed across its top. From between these strips a tawny nose was uplifted.
Hepsibah Deacon, a widow living in a little house in the woods on the top of the hill on the Denboro side of Eastboro Back Harbor, with no neighbors for a mile in either direction, was awakened by shouts under her bedroom window. Opening that window she thrust forth her head. "Who is it?" she demanded quaveringly. "What's the matter? Is anything afire?"
And whether you stay here ten minutes or ten years you've got to mind your own business. I won't have any hints or questions about me from you nor nobody else. 'Mind your own business, that's the motto of Eastboro Twin-Lights, while I'm boss of 'em. If you don't like it well, the village is only five mile off, and I'll p'int out the road to you."
"What are you laughing at?" asked Miss Graham. "Why, Russell, what is it?" Russell Agnew Brooks, alias "John Brown," ex-substitute assistant at Eastboro Twin-Lights, sank into a chair, shaking from head to heel. "It is hysterics," cried Ruth, hastening to his side. "No wonder, poor dear, considering what he has been through. Hush, Russell! don't, you frighten me. What IS it?"
Seth Atkins was a countryman, and a marked contrast to any individual Brown had ever met, but he was far from being a fool. He possessed a fund of dry common sense, and his comments on people and happenings in the world a knowledge of which he derived from the newspapers and magazines obtained on his trips to Eastboro were a constant delight.
The inventor had not known it until that moment, and he took time to consider before making another remark. His sister-in-law was employed as housekeeper at some bungalow or other situated in close proximity to the Twin-Lights; that he had discovered since his arrival on the morning train. Prior to that he had known only that she was in Eastboro for the summer.
Sneakin' after me, wa'n't you? Spyin', to find out what I was up to, hey?" He shook the wet paint brush angrily at his helper. Brown looked at him for an instant; then he rose to his feet. "Spyin' on me, was you?" repeated Seth. "Didn't I tell you that mindin' your own business was part of our dicker if you was goin' to stay at Eastboro lighthouse? Didn't I tell you that?"
It might be that he must face something more serious than questions. Quite possible Seth, finding him absent, had investigated and seen. Well, if he had, then he had, that was all. The murder would be out, and Eastboro Twin-Lights would shortly be shy a substitute assistant keeper. But there were no embarrassing questions. Atkins scarcely noticed him.
When he reached the first clumps of bayberry bushes bordering the deeply rutted road, a joyful cloud of mosquitoes rose and settled about him like a fog. So Seth Atkins was left alone to do double duty at Eastboro Twin-Lights, pending the appointment of another assistant. The two days and nights following Ezra's departure had been strenuous and provoking.
"Joking aside," he said, "I don't see why I shouldn't, in time, make an ideal assistant lightkeeper. Give me a trial, at any rate. I need an employer; you need a helper. Here we both are. Come; it is a bargain, isn't it? Any brass to be scrubbed boss?" Of course, had Eastboro Twin-Lights been an important station, the possibility of John Brown's remaining there would have been nonexistent.
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