Salters looked pleadingly at Penn to see if he remembered.
“How long have I been mad?” Penn asked suddenly. His mouth was twitching.
“Pshaw, Penn! You weren’t never mad,” Salters began “Only a little distracted like.”
“I saw the houses strike the bridge before the fires broke out. I do not remember any more. How long ago is that?”
“I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it!” cried Dan, and Harvey whimpered in sympathy.
“Abaout five year,” said Disko, in a shaking voice.
“Then I have been a charge on someone for every day of that time. Who was the man?”
Disko pointed to Salters.
“Ye hain’t—ye hain’t!” cried the sea-farmer, twisting his hands together. “Ye’ve more’n earned your keep twice-told; an’ there’s money owin’ you, Penn, besides ha’af o’ my quarter-share in the boat, which is yours fer value received.”
“You are good men. I can see that in your faces. But—”
“Mother av Mercy,” whispered Long Jack, “an’ he’s been wid us all these trips! He’s clean bewitched.”
A schooner’s bell struck up alongside, and a voice hailed through the fog: “O Disko! ’Heard abaout the Jennie Cushman ?”
“They have found his son,” cried Penn. “Stand you still and see the salvation of the Lord!”