THE SEVEN WIVES
There was no doubt but that he was immensely pleased over something. "Tell me, Nat—why did you come to St. James?"
He leaned forward over the table, his odd white head almost resting on it, and twiddled his thumbs with wonderful rapidity. "Eh, Nat?" he urged. "Why did you come?"
"Because it was too hot and uninteresting lying out there in a calm, Dad," replied the master of the Typhoon. "We've been roasting for thirty-six hours without a breath to fill our sails. I came over to see what you people are like. Any harm done?"
"Not a bit, not a bit—yet," chuckled the old man. "And what's your business, Nat?"
"Sailing—mostly."
"Ho, ho, ho! of course, I might have known it! Sailing—mostly. Why, certainly you sail! And why do you carry a pistol on one side of you and a knife on the other, Nat?"
"Troublous times, Dad. Some of the fisher-folk along the Northern End aren't very scrup-
33
