"Don't know, I'm sure," I found it hard somehow to think of Aunt Cal as a girl at all.
"Well, I'll bet that old salt next door has been to plenty of 'em," said Hamish. "I'll bet he hasn't missed much that went on, picnics or anything else!"
Michael chuckled. "You should hear the sea yarns he can tell when he gets going!"
"By the way," continued Hamish casually, "I picked up a little present for him when I was over in Millport this morning, something practical and yet fancy."
"A present for Captain Trout!" We all gazed with curiosity as Hamish proceeded to extract from the pocket of his jacket an oblong package.
"Hamish," giggled Eve, "is the world's great gift giver. He just showers tokens of esteem about among his acquaintances. He hasn't given me anything yet but I'm living in hopes. By the way, when did you get acquainted with the Captain, Hamish--you only came yesterday?"
"Well," he returned, "of course I'm not exactly acquainted with him. But I noticed him walkin' round his garden last night. And so when I came across this--this present that I got--I thought right away that that was just what this sailor fellow needed. Even if I don't know him, I think we all ought to help each other all we can."
"Hamish," I murmured feelingly, "I never dreamed what deep springs of unselfishness were--er--slumbering----" I dabbed at my eye as the smoke from the fire was drifting my way.
"Well, open it up and do let's see what fool contraption you've bought now!" demanded Hattie May impatiently.
"'Tisn't either." Hamish pulled off the string of the package. "You see, I noticed as soon as I saw this fellow Trout that he was goin' bald. So naturally when I ran into a fellow peddlin' hair tonic----"
"Hair tonic!" came in a chorus from Eve and me.
"Yup." Hamish held up a large black bottle. Somehow I knew what the label would say before I read it--"Harry's Hair Restorer"!
"Hamish," I demanded tensely, "where did you get it?"
"Why, I just been tellin' you, on the street in Millport. A fellow was peddlin' it--said it was his own secret formula that he'd used for twenty years. And, boy, you oughta seen his hair!"
"Golly!" said Michael, swallowing half a sandwich at a gulp. "Can you beat that?"
"Well, what's eatin' you?" Hamish's gaze traveled from him to Eve's face and mine. "You all look 'sif I'd committed a crime or sumpin! I guess the stuff isn't poison and anyhow nobody's going to drink it. The way I figure with a head like Trout's, anything he can do--even if it only grows him a couple of hairs--is better than leavin' things go the way they are!"