The next day Captain Shadrach drove to Ostable and spent several hours in consultation with Judge Baxter. Adjusting matters by correspondence is a slow process at best, and the Captain, having surrendered unconditionally, was not the man to delay.
"I can settle more in ten minutes' talk," he told his partner, "than the three of us could in a month's letter-writin', especially if I had to write any of the letters. I never was any hand to write letters; you know that, Zoeth. And when I do write one the feller I send it to is liable to come around and ask me to read it 'cause he can't. Like as not I can't either, if it's had time to get cold, and there we are, right where we started. No, I'll go and see the Judge and when I fetch port tonight there'll have been somethin' done."
This prophecy was fulfilled. Before the Captain left Ostable for the homeward drive a good deal had been done. Judge Baxter, in his capacity as administrator, had already been looking into the affairs of his late client and, as he had expected, those affairs were badly tangled. When the outstanding debts were paid there would be little left, a thousand or two, perhaps, but certainly no more.
"So there you are, Shadrach," he said. "I'm mighty glad you and Zoeth have decided to keep the girl, but I'm afraid she'll come to you with very little property of her own. If she is to have the good education and all the rest that Marcellus wanted her to have I guess it'll be your money that pays for it. That's the honest truth, and I think you ought to know it."
The Captain nodded. "That's all right," he said. "I expected just about that, account of what you said the day of the funeral. Me and Zoeth are about, as fur from bein' rich as the ship's cat is from bein' skipper, but we've put by a little and the store fetches us in a decent livin'. We'll take the young-one and do our best by her.
Land knows what that best'll be," he added, with a dubious shake of the head. "Speakin' for myself, I feel that I'm about as competent to bring up a child as a clam is to fly."
Baxter laughed. "Marcellus seemed confident that you and Hamilton were perfectly suited to the job," he said.
"Um; yes, I know; Marcellus had confidence in a good many things, the stock market included. However, what is to be will be and we all have to take chances, as the feller that was just married said when he tackled his wife's first mince pie. You get those guardian papers, whatever they are, made out, and Zoeth and me'll sign 'em.
As for the competent part--well," with a chuckle, "that child's pretty competent herself. I have a notion that, take it five or six years from now, it'll be her that'll be bringin' us up in the way we should go. I feel a good deal as if I was signin' on for a long voyage with the chances that I'd finish mate instead of skipper."
"Say, Judge," he added, just before leaving for home, "there's one thing more I'd like to say. 'Most everybody thinks Marcellus left his stepdaughter a consider'ble sight of money, don't they?"
"Why, yes; I suppose they do."
"All right, let 'em think so. 'Twill give 'em somethin' to talk about. They'll be guessin' how rich the child is instead of markin' off in the almanac the days afore Zoeth and me head for the poorhouse."
"Humph! I see. You don't care to have it known that you and your partner are adopting and supporting her purely from motives of kindness and generosity."
"Pooh! pooh! No generosity about it. Besides, Marcellus was kind and generous enough to us in the old days. Pity if we couldn't take our trick at the wheel now."
The Judge smiled. "You're a good deal more willing to take that trick than you were when I saw you last, Captain Shad," he observed.
"You seem to have changed your mind completely."
The Captain grinned. "Well, yes, I have," he admitted. "Maybe 'tain't so big a change as you think; I have a habit of blowin' up a squall when I'm gettin' ready to calm down. But, anyway, that young-one would change anybody's mind. She's different from any girl of her age ever I saw. She's pretty as a little picture and sweet and wholesome as a--as a summer sweet apple. She don't pester, and she don't tease, and she don't lie--no, sir, not even when I'd consider layin' the course a p'int or two from the truth a justifiable proceedin'. She's got inside my vest, somehow or 'nother, and I did think I was consider'ble of a hard-shell. She's all right, Mary-'Gusta is. I'm about ready to say 'Thank you' to Marcellus."
And so it was settled, and Mary-'Gusta Lathrop was no longer a visitor, but a permanent member of the odd household at South Harniss. She was delighted when she heard the news, although, characteristically, she said very little beyond confiding to her two "uncles" that she was going to be a good girl and not take David into the parlor again. The remainder of her "things" and belongings were sent over by the Judge and, in due time, the guardianship papers were signed.
"There!" exclaimed Zoeth, laying down the pen. "That settles it, I cal'late. Now, Mary-'Gusta, you're our little girl, mine and your Uncle Shad's, for good and all."
"Not quite so long as that, Zoeth," put in the smiling Shadrach.
"We'll hang on to her for a spell, I shouldn't wonder; but one of these days, a hundred years from now or such matter, there's liable to be a good-lookin' young feller sparkin' 'round here and he'll want to marry her and take her somewheres else. What'll you say when it comes to that, Mary-'Gusta?"
Mary-'Gusta thought it over. "If 'twas a hundred years from now," she said, "I guess he wouldn't want me."
The Captain laughed uproariously. "Well, maybe we can discount that hundred some for cash," he admitted. "Make it twelve or fifteen years. Then suppose somebody--er--er--" with a wink at Zoeth--
"suppose Jimmie Bacheldor, we'll say, comes and wants us to put you in his hands, what'll you say then?"
The answer was prompt enough this time.
"I'll say no," asserted Mary-'Gusta, with decision. "Jimmie Bacheldor hates to wash his hands; he told me so."
