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Pinch-a-Penny Peter cotched up with young Tom on the road home from the little graveyard on Sunset Hill.

“Well, lad,” says he, “the old skipper’s gone.”

“Ay, sir, he’s dead an’ buried.”

“A fine man,” says Pinch-a-Penny. “None finer.”

With that young Tom broke out crying. “He were a kind father t’ we,” says he. “An’ now he’s dead!”

“You lacked nothin’ in your father’s lifetime,” says Peter.

“An’ now he’s dead!”

“Well, well, you’ve no call t’ be afeared o’ goin’ hungry on that account,” says Peter, laying an arm over the lad’s shoulder. “No, nor none o’ the little crew over t’ your house. Take up the fishin’ where your father left it off, lad,” says he, “an’ you’ll find small difference. I’ll cross out your father’s name on the books an’ put down your own in its stead.”

“I’m fair obliged,” says Tom. “That’s kind, sir.”

“Nothin’ like kindness t’ ease sorrow,” says Pinch-a-Penny. “Your father died in debt, lad.”

“Ay, sir?”

“Deep.”

“How much, sir?”

“I’m not able t’ tell offhand,” says Peter. “‘Twas deep enough. But never you care. You’ll be able t’ square it in course o’ time. You’re young an’ hearty. An’ I’ll not be harsh. Damme, I’m no skinflint!”

“That’s kind, sir.”

“You–you– will square it?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“What?” cries Peter. “What! You’re not knowin’, eh? That’s saucy talk. You had them there supplies?”

“I ‘low, sir.”

“An’ you guzzled your share, I’ll be bound!”

“Yes, sir.”

“An’ your mother had her share?”

“Yes, sir.”

“An’ you’re not knowin’ whether you’ll pay or not! Ecod! What is you? A scoundrel? A dead beat? A rascal? A thief? A jail-bird?”

“No, sir.”

“‘Tis for the likes o’ you that jails was made.”

“Oh, no, sir!”

“Doesn’t you go t’ church? Is that what they learns you there? I’m thinkin’ the parson doesn’t earn what I pays un. Isn’t you got no conscience?”

‘Twas too much for young Tom. You sees, Tom Lane had a conscience–a conscience as fresh and as young as his years. And Tom had loved his father well. And Tom honored his father’s name. And so when he had brooded over Pinch-a-Penny’s words for a spell–and when he had maybe laid awake in the night thinking of his father’s goodness–he went over to Pinch-a-Penny’s office and allowed he’d pay his father’s debt. Pinch-a-Penny give un a clap on the back, and says: “You is an honest lad, Tom Lane! I knowed you was. I’m proud t’ have your name on my books!”–and that heartened Tom to continue. And after that Tom kept hacking away on his father’s debt. In good years Pinch-a-Penny would say: “She’s comin’ down, Tom. I’ll just apply the surplus.” And in bad he’d say: “You isn’t quite cotched up with your own self this season, b’y. A little less pork this season, Tom, an’ you’ll square this here little balance afore next. I wisht this whole harbor was as honest as you. No trouble, then,” says he, “t’ do business in a business-like way.”

When Tom got over the hill–fifty and more–his father’s debt, with interest, according to Pinch-a-Penny’s figures, which Tom had no learning to dispute, was more than it ever had been; and his own was as much as he ever could hope to pay. And by that time Pinch-a-Penny Peter was rich, and Long Tom Lane was gone sour.

* * * * *

In the fall of the year when Tom Lane was fifty-three he went up to St. John’s in Pinch-a-Penny Peter’s supply-schooner. Nobody knowed why. And Tom made a mystery of it. But go he would. And when the schooner got back ’twas said that Tom Lane had vanished in the city for a day. Why? Nobody knowed. Where? Nobody could find out. Tom wouldn’t tell, nor could the gossips gain a word from his wife. And, after that, Tom was a changed man; he mooned a deal, and he would talk no more of the future, but dwelt upon the shortness of a man’s days and the quantity of his sin, and labored like mad, and read the Scriptures by candlelight, and sot more store by going to church and prayer-meeting than ever afore. Labor? Ecod, how that poor man labored through the winter! While there was light! And until he fair dropped in his tracks of sheer weariness! ‘Twas back in the forest–hauling fire-wood with the dogs and storing it away back of his little cottage under Lend-a-Hand Hill.