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Updated: June 2, 2025
Marcellus didn't, of course; he idolized that girl, worshiped her like a vain thing, so's to speak. And Cap'n Shad, course he wouldn't talk because he's always down on tattle-tales and liars, but I've always thought he was a little mite suspicious and troubled. As for poor Zoeth well, it's always his kind that are the last to suspect. And Zoeth was as innocent then as he is now. And as good, too.
But the struggle was not entirely over. She made one more effort. "Oh, Crawford!" she cried a little later. "Oh, Crawford, dear, this is all wrong. It can't be. It mustn't be. Don't you see it mustn't? We have forgotten Uncle Zoeth. He doesn't know whose son you are. If he should learn, it would bring back the old story and the old trouble. He isn't well. The shock might kill him."
The Captain liked young Smith, he had believed Mary liked him very much, and, although he could not help feeling a guilty sense of relief because the danger that he and Zoeth might have to share her affections with someone else was, for the time at least, out of the way, he was puzzled and troubled by the abruptness of the dismissal. There was something, he felt sure, which he did not understand.
He noticed the same expression at times when Mary was in the room. Zoeth's eyes would follow her as she moved about and in them was the look the Captain could not understand. Shadrach had told his friend of Mary's sending young Smith away. Zoeth had asked concerning Crawford almost as soon as he was permitted to take part in a lengthy conversation. He appeared greatly interested, even eager.
"We didn't need you, Mary-'Gusta," vowed Zoeth eagerly. "We got along fust-rate without you. And we wanted you to go to school and to Europe. You see, it makes us feel proud to know our girl is gettin' a fine education and seein' the world. It ain't any more than she deserves, but it makes us feel awful pleased to know she's gettin' it."
"What's all this about, anyway? You don't cal'late I'd take you walkin' Sundays if I thought 'twas wicked, do you?" "No, sir; but Uncle Zoeth thinks not goin' to church is wicked. If you and I went to church with him 'twould please him ever so much." "Maybe so, but 'twould please you and me if he went walkin' with us. I've asked him times enough.
If I could remember any day or hour or minute since Zoeth and me h'isted you into the old buggy to drive you from Ostable here if I could remember a minute of that time when you HADN'T bossed us, I well, I'd put it down in the log with a red ink circle around it. No, sir-ee! You've been OUR skipper from the start." Even Zoeth smiled now and Mary laughed aloud.
The Judge looked at his companions and shook his head as if the conundrum was beyond his guessing. Captain Shad groaned. "By fire!" he ejaculated. "All hands have gone loony, young-ones and all. And," with conviction, "I'm on the road myself." Zoeth Hamilton stepped forward and held out his hands. "Come here, dearie," he said, gently; "come here and tell me all about it.
He uttered an exclamation, stepped to the door of the upper hall and called, "Zoeth!" Then he returned to the table and took from the drawer the next photograph upon the pile in the box. It was the old, faded picture of the partners of Hall and Company. Isaiah came stumbling up the stairs. "Anythin' I can do for you, Cap'n Shad?" he asked. "Zoeth, he's gone out to shut up the barn door.
Shadrach, you be still now and listen." The Captain opened his mouth and raised a hand. "Be still, Shadrach," repeated Zoeth. The hand fell. Captain Gould sighed. "All right, Zoeth," he said. "I'll keep my batch closed long's I can. Heave ahead, Judge." The letter was a long one, covering several sheets of foolscap. It began: To Shadrach, Gould and Zoeth Hamilton, my old partners and friends.
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