But suddenly the man remembered that he was _not_ Cap'n Abe! He stood
here in an entirely different character. Cap'n Amazon, the rough and
ready mariner, had little in common with the timid creature who had
tamely kept store on the Shell Road for twenty-odd years.
What would the neighbors think of Cap'n Amazon if he remained away from
the scene of excitement at such a time? He turned back into the store
for his hat and coat and later came out and closed the door. Then he
shuffled down the road.
At first he closed his eyes--squeezing the lids tight so as not to see
the gale-ridden sea. But finally, stumbling, he opened them. Far away
where the pale tower of the lighthouse lifted staunchly against the
greenish gray sky, the surf was rolling in from the open sea, the waves
charging up the strand one after the other like huge white horses,
their manes of spume tossed high by the breath of the gale. Black was
the sea, and streaked angrily with foam.
Thunderously did it roar and break over the Gull Rocks.
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