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Programming Mobile Applications, ISBN 1133628133
Ch. 6 Solutions-1

Chapter 6 Solutions
Review Questions

1. Which of the following statements about Objective-C is true? (Choose all that apply.)
a. It’s the programming language used to create apps on Macs and iOS devices.
c. It’s a superset of ANSI C.
2. A weakly typed object must be declared at design time. True or False?
False
3. Which of the following files is created for an Objective-C class? (Choose all that
apply.)
a. Header
c. Implementation
4. In Objective-C, the id type indicates which of the following?
a. You don’t know the type of the object.
5. In infix notation, method names and parameters are intertwined. True or False?
True
6. The Window-based Application template includes which of the following? (Choose
all that apply.)
a. A window object
b. A main class
c. A property list file
7. The drawRect: method does which of the following? (Choose all that apply.)
a. Handles drawing the rectangle represented by the view onscreen
b. Is similar to onDraw() in Android apps
d. Is called when the view redraws itself
8. Which of the following statements about an application delegate is true? (Choose all
that apply.)
a. It works on behalf of the UIApplication class.
b. It’s where life cycle event handlers are created.
c. It draws the view onscreen.
9. A framework is which of the following?
b. A collection of classes for performing a specific task
10. You use the plist file to do which of the following?
Programming Mobile Applications, ISBN 1133628133
Ch. 6 Solutions-2

a. Set global properties for an app.

11. When is the developer responsible for managing memory for objects? (Choose all that
apply.)
a. When an object is created with alloc
b. When an object is created with new
c. When the object is created with copy
d. In all iOS apps
12. A UIViewController object is used to do which of the following?
a. Control a view and display it onscreen.
13. When should you use the @class directive? (Choose all that apply.)
a. When you refer to objects of that type only as a pointer
b. When the compiler doesn’t need to know any inheritance information
14. A bundle is a group of properties for an object. True or False?
False
15. Which of the following statements about a view controller is true? (Choose all that
apply.)
a. It’s responsible for setting up and configuring the view when asked.
b. It’s responsible for brokering requests between the model and the view.
c. It’s where you handle most UI events for your app.
16. What does the @synthesize directive do?
a. Implements getters and setters for variables declared by using the @property
directive
17. An outlet is which of the following? (Choose all that apply.)
a. An instance variable
b. A way to connect instance variables to UI components
18. Core Location services are provided as which of the following?
c. Framework

Detective Work Features

See the HelloiPhoneFinal and ButtonChaserFinal folders.

Up for Discussion

1. It’s been said that developing iOS applications represents a step backward for most
developers. What does this statement mean? Is it true? Explain your answer.
Programming Mobile Applications, ISBN 1133628133
Ch. 6 Solutions-3

Answers will vary but should mention separate editors, multiple files (header and
implementation), and lack of automated garbage collection.
2. Compare delegation and subclassing. Which do you prefer, and why?
Answers will vary. Good answers should include the pros and cons of inheritance,
especially pertaining to dynamic method invocation.
3. Compare Android and iOS development. Which do you prefer, and why?
Although answers are subjective, students should mention market trends, employment
opportunities, and so forth.
4. Analyze current market trends for smartphones. If you were developing an app today,
which platforms would you support? Explain your answer.
Answers will vary. Students should compare multiple trends.

Programming Exercises

Solutions are provided as Xcode projects.

1. See the CircleCalc project.
2. See the RectangleCalc project.
3. See the FToC project
4. See the CToF project.
5. See the TempConverter project.
6. See the Payroll project.
Other documents randomly have
different content
Gleazen across the store and round behind my uncle's desk, where
now there was a second chair in place of the cracker-box.
When Gleazen had sat down beside my uncle, he tapping the desk
with a long pencil, which he had drawn from his pocket, Uncle Seth
bustling about among his papers, with quick useless sallies here and
there, and into the pigeonholes, as if he were confused by the mass
of business that confronted him,—it was a manner he sometimes
affected when visitors were present,—Arnold Lamont put down the
knight and absently, as if his mind were far away, said in his calm,
precise voice, "Check!"
"No, no! You mustn't do that! You can't do that! That's wrong! See!
You were on that square there—see?—and you moved so! You can't
put your knight there," Sim Muzzy cried.
That Lamont had transgressed by mistake the rules of the game hit
Sim like a thunderclap and even further befuddled his poor wits.
"Ah," said Lamont, "I see. I beg you, pardon my error. So! Check."
He again moved the knight, apparently without thought; and Sim
Muzzy fell to biting his lip and puzzling this way and that and
working his fingers, which he always did when he was getting the
worst of the game.
Arnold Lamont seemed not to care a straw about the game. Through
the door he was watching Cornelius Gleazen. And Cornelius Gleazen
was wiping his forehead with his handkerchief.
I wondered if it was my lively imagination that made me think that
he was breathing quickly. How long would it have taken him, I
wondered, to cut across the pasture from Higgleby's barn to the
north road? Coming thus by the Four Corners, could he have
reached the store ahead of me? Or could he, by way of the shun-
pike, have passed me on the road?
 CHAPTER IV
SWORDS AND SHIPS

Having succeeded in establishing himself in the society and

confidence of the more substantial men of the village, and having
discomfited completely those few—among whom remained the
blacksmith—who had treated him shabbily in the first weeks of his
return and had continued ever since to regard him with suspicion,
Cornelius Gleazen began now to extend his campaign to other
quarters, and to curry favor among those whose good-will, so far as
I could see, was really of little weight one way or another. He now
cast off something of his arrogant, disdainful air, and won the hearts
of the children by strange knickknacks and scrimshaws, which he
would produce, sometimes from his pockets, and sometimes, by
delectable sleight of hand, from the very air itself. Before long half
the homes in the village boasted whale's teeth on which were
wrought pictures of whales and ships and savages, or chips of ivory
carved into odd little idols, and every one of them, you would find, if
you took the trouble to ask, came from the old chests that Neil
Gleazen kept under the bed in his room at the tavern, where now he
was regarded as the prince of guests.
To those who were a little older he gave more elaborate trinkets of
ivory and of dark, strange woods; and the report grew, and found
ready belief, that he had prospered greatly in trade before he
decided to retire, and that he had brought home a fortune with
which to settle down in the old town; for the toys that he gave away
so freely were worth, we judged, no inconsiderable sum. But to the
lads in their early twenties, of whom I was one, he endeared himself
perhaps most of all when, one fine afternoon, smoking one of his
long cigars and wearing his beaver tilted forward at just such an
angle, he came down the road with a great awkward bundle under
his arm, and disclosed on the porch of my uncle's store half a dozen
foils and a pair of masks.
He smiled when all the young fellows in sight and hearing gathered
round him eagerly, and called one another to come and see, and
picked up the foils and passed at one another awkwardly. There was
an odd satisfaction in his smile, as if he had gained something worth
the having. What a man of his apparent means could care for our
good-will, I could not have said if anyone had asked me, and at the
time I did not think to wonder about it. But his air of triumph, when
I later had occasion to recall it to mind, convinced me that for our
good-will he did care, and that he was manœuvring to win and hold
it.
It was interesting to mark how the different ones took his
playthings. Sim Muzzy cried out in wonder and earnestly asked, "Are
those what men kill themselves with in duels? Pray how do they stick
'em in when the points are blunted?" Arnold Lamont, without a word
or a change of expression, picked up a foil at random and tested the
blade by bending it against the wall. Uncle Seth, having satisfied his
curiosity by a glance, cried sharply, "That's all very interesting, but
there's work to be done. Come, come, I pay no one for gawking out
the door."
The lively hum of voices continued, and a number of town boys
remained to examine the weapons; but Arnold, Sim, and I
obediently turned back into the store.
"That's all right, lads," Cornelius Gleazen cried. "Come evening, I'll
show you a few points on using these toys. I'll make a fencing-
master and a good one, I'll have you know, and there are some
among you that have the making of swordsmen. You're one, Joe
Woods, you're one."
I was pleased to be singled out, and went to my work with a will,
thinking meanwhile of the promised lessons. It never occurred to me
that Cornelius Gleazen could have had a motive that did not appear
on the surface for so choosing my name from all the rest.
That evening, true to his promise, he took us in hand on the village
green, with four fifths of the village standing by to watch, and gave
us lessons in thrusting and parrying and stepping swiftly forward and
backward. We were an awkward company of recruits, and for our
pains we got only hearty laughter from the onlookers; but the new
sport captured our imagination, and realizing that, once upon a time,
even Cornelius Gleazen himself had been a tyro, we zealously
worked to learn what we could, and in our idle moments we
watched with frank admiration the grand flourishes and great leaps
and stamps of which Gleazen was master.
The diamond on the finger of his gracefully curved left hand flashed
as he sprang about, and his ruffled shirt, damped by his unwonted
exercise, clung close to his big shoulders and well-formed back.
Surely, we thought, few could equal his surprising agility; the great
voice in which he roared his suggestions and commands increased
our confidence in his knowledge of swordsmanship.
When, after my second turn at his instruction, I came away with my
arms aching from the unaccustomed exertion and saw that Arnold
Lamont was watching us and covertly smiling, I flamed red and all
but lost my temper. Why should he laugh at me, I thought. Surely I
was no clumsier than the others. Indeed, he who thought himself so
smart probably could not do half so well. Had not Mr. Gleazen
praised me most of all? In my anger at Arnold's secret amusement, I
avoided him that evening and for several days to come.
It was on Saturday night, when we were closing the store for the
week, that quite another subject led me back to my resentment in
such a way that we had the matter out between us; and as all that
we had to say is more or less intimately connected with my story I
will set it down word for word.
A young woman in a great quilted bonnet of the kind that we used
to call calash, and a dress that she no doubt thought very fetching,
came mincing into the store and ordered this thing and that in a way
that kept me attending closely to her desires. When she had gone
mincing out again, I turned so impatiently to put the counter to
rights, that Arnold softly chuckled.
"Apparently," said he, with a quiet smile, "the lady did not impress
you quite as she desired, Joe."
"Impress me!" I snorted, ungallantly imitating her mincing manner.
"She impressed me as much as any of them."
"You must have patience, Joe. Some day there will come a lady—"
"No, no!" I cried, with the cocksure assertiveness of my years.
"But yes!"
"Not I! No, no, Arnold—, 'needles and pins, needles and pins'—"
"When a man marries his trouble begins?" Sadness now shadowed
Arnold's expressive face. "No! Proverbs sometimes are pernicious."
"You are laughing at me!"
I had detected, through the veil of melancholy that seemed to have
fallen over him, a faint ray of something akin to humor.
"I am not laughing at you, Joe." His voice was sad. "You will marry
some day—marry and settle down. It is good to do so. I—"
There was something in his stopping that made me look at him in
wonder. Immediately he was himself again, calm, wise, taciturn; but
in spite of my youth I instinctively felt that only by suffering could a
man win his way to such kindly, quiet dignity.
I had said that I would not marry: no wonder, I have since thought,
that Arnold looked at me with that gentle humor. Never dreaming
that in only a few short months a new name and a new face were to
fill my mind and my heart with a world of new anxieties and sorrows
and joys, never dreaming of the strange and distant adventures
through which Arnold and I were to pass,—if a fortune-teller had
foretold the story, I should have laughed it to scorn,—I was only
angry at his amused smile. Perhaps I had expected him to argue
with me, to try to correct my notions. In any case, when he so kindly
and yet keenly appraised at its true worth my boyish pose, I was
sobered for a moment by the sadness that he himself had revealed;
then I all but flew into a temper.
"Oh, very well! Go on and laugh at me. You were laughing at me the
other night when I was fencing, too. I saw you. I'd like to see you
do better yourself. Go on and laugh, you who are so wise."
Arnold's smile vanished. "I am not laughing at you, Joe. Nor was I
laughing at you then."
"You were not laughing at me?"
"No."
"At whom, then, were you laughing?"
To this Arnold did not reply.
The fencing lessons, begun so auspiciously that first evening,
became a regular event. Every night we gathered on the green and
fenced together until twilight had all but settled into dark. Little by
little we learned such tricks of attack and defense as our master
could teach us, until we, too, could stamp and leap, and parry with
whistling circles of the blade. And as we did so, we young fellows of
the village came more and more to look upon Cornelius Gleazen
almost as one of us.
Though his coming had aroused suspicion, though for many weeks
there were few who would say a good word for him, as the summer
wore away, he established himself so firmly in the life of his native
town that people began to forget, as far as anyone could see, that
he had ever had occasion to leave it in great haste.
If he praised my fencing and gave me more time than the others, I
thought it no more than my due—was I not a young man of great
prospects? If Uncle Seth had at first regarded him with suspicion,
Uncle Seth, too, had quite returned now to his old abrupt, masterful
way and was again as sharp and quick of tongue as ever, even when
Neil Gleazen was sitting in Uncle Seth's own chair and at his own
desk. Perhaps, had we been keener, we should have suspected that
something was wrong, simply because no one—except a few stupid
persons like the blacksmith—had a word to say against Neil Gleazen.
You would at least have expected his old cronies to resent his
leaving them for more respectable company. But not even from them
did there come a whisper of suspicion or complaint.
Why should not a man come home to his native place to enjoy the
prosperity of his later years? we argued. It was the most natural
thing in the world; and when Cornelius Gleazen talked of foreign
wars and the state of the country and the deaths of Mr. Adams and
Mr. Jefferson, and of the duel between Mr. Clay and Mr. Randolph,
the most intelligent of us listened with respect, and found occasion
in his shrewd observations and trenchant comment to rejoice that
Topham had so able a son to return to her in the full power of his
maturity.
There was even talk of sending him to Congress, and that it was not
idle gossip I know because three politicians from Boston came to
town and conferred with our selectmen and Judge Bordman over
their wine at the inn for a long evening; and Peter Nuttles, whose
sister waited on them, spread the story to the ends of the county.
Late one night, when Uncle Seth and I were about to set out for
home, leaving Arnold and Sim to lock up the store, we parted with
Gleazen on the porch, he stalking off to the right in the moonlight
and swinging his cane as he went, we turning our backs on the
village and the bright windows of the tavern, and stepping smartly
toward our own dark house, in which the one lighted lamp shone
from the window of the room that Mrs. Jameson, our housekeeper,
occupied.
"He's a man of judgment," Uncle Seth said, as if meditating aloud,
"rare judgment and a wonderful knowledge of the world."
He seemed to expect no reply, and I made none.
"He was venturesome to rashness as a boy," Uncle Seth presently
continued. "All that seems to have changed now."
We walked along through the dust. The weeds beside the road and
the branches of the trees and shrubs were damp with dew.
"As a boy," Uncle Seth said at last, "I should never have thought of
going to Neil Gleazen for judgment—aye, or for knowledge." And
when we stood on the porch in the moonlight and looked back at
the village, where all the houses were dark now except for a lamp
here and there that continued to burn far into the night, he added,
"How would you like to leave all this, Joe, and wrestle a fall with
fortune for big stakes—aye, for rich stakes, with everything in our
favor to win?"
At something in his voice I turned on my heel, my heart leaping, and
stared hard at him.
As if he suddenly realized that he had been saying things he ought
not to say, he gave himself a quick shake, and woke from his
meditations with a start. "We must away to bed," he cried sharply.
"It's close on midnight."
Here was a matter for speculation. For an hour that afternoon and
for another hour that evening Uncle Seth and Neil Gleazen had sat
behind my uncle's desk, with their chairs drawn close together and
the beaver laid on the cracker-box, and had scribbled endless
columns of figures and mysterious notes on sheet after sheet of
foolscap. What, I wondered, did it mean?
At noon next day, as I was waiting on customers in the front of the
store, I saw a rider with full saddlebags pass, on a great black horse,
and shortly afterwards I heard one of the customers remark that the
horse was standing at the inn. Glancing out of the window, I saw
that the rider had dismounted and was talking with Cornelius
Gleazen; though the distance was considerable, Gleazen's bearing
and the forward tilt of his beaver were unmistakable. When next I
passed the window, I saw that Gleazen was posting down the road
toward the store, with his beaver tipped even farther over his right
eye, his cane swinging, and a bundle under his arm.
As I bowed the customers out, Gleazen entered the store, brushing
past me with a nod, and loudly called, "Seth Upham! Seth Upham!
Where are you?"
"Here I am. What's wanted?" my uncle testily retorted, as he
emerged from a bin into which he had thrust his head and shoulders
in his efforts to fill a peck measure.
"Come, come," cried Gleazen in his great, gruff voice. "Here's news!"
"News," returned my uncle, sharply; "news is no reason to scare a
man out of a year's growth."
Neil Gleazen laughed loudly and gave my uncle a resounding slap on
the back that made him writhe. "News, Seth, news is the key to
fortune. Come, man, come, lay by your pettifogging. Here's papers
just in by the post. You ain't going to let 'em lie no more than I am."
To my amazement,—I could never get used to it,—my uncle's
resentment seemed to go like mist before the sun, and he said not a
word against the boisterous roughness of the friend of his youth,
although I almost believe that, if anyone else had dared to treat him
so, he would have grained the man with a hayfork. Instead, he
wiped his hands on his coarse apron and followed Gleazen to the
desk, where they sat down in the two chairs that now were always
behind it.
For a time they talked in voices so low that I heard nothing of their
conversation; but after a while, as they became more and more
absorbed in their business, their voices rose, and I perceived that
Gleazen was reading aloud from the papers some advertisements in
which he seemed especially interested.
"Here's this," he would cry. "Listen to this. If this ain't a good one,
I'll miss my guess. 'Executor's sale, Ship Congress: on Saturday the
15th, at twelve o'clock, at the wharf of the late William Gray, Lynn
Street, will be sold at public auction the ship Congress, built at
Mattapoisett near New Bedford in the year 1823 and designed for
the whale fishery. Measures 349 tons, is copper fastened and was
copper sheathed over felt in London on the first voyage, and is in
every respect a first-rate vessel. She has two suits of sails, chain and
hemp cables, and is well found in the usual appurtenances. By order
of the executors of the late William Gray, Whitewell, Bond and
Company, Auctioneers.' There, Seth, there's a vessel for you, I'll
warrant you."
My uncle murmured something that I could not hear; then Gleazen
tipped his beaver back on his head—for once he had neglected to
set it on the cracker-box—and hoarsely laughed. "Well, I'll be shot!"
he roared. "How's a man to better himself, if he's so confounded
cautious? Well, then, how's this: 'Marshal's Sale. United States of
America, District of Massachusetts, Boston, August 31, 1826.
Pursuant to a warrant from the Honorable John Davis, Judge of the
District Court for the District aforesaid, I hereby give public notice
that I shall sell at public auction on Wednesday the 8th day of
September, at 12 o'clock noon, at Long Wharf, the schooner Caroline
and Clara, libelled for wages by William Shipley, and the money
arising from the sale to be paid into court. Samuel D. Hains,
Marshal.' That'll come cheap, if cheap you'll have. But mark what I
tell you, Seth, that what comes cheap, goes cheap. There's no good
in it. It ain't as if you hadn't the money. The plan's mine, and I tell
you, it's a good one, with three merry men waiting for us over
yonder. Half's for you, a whole half, mind you; and half's to be
divided amongst the rest of us. It don't pay to try to do things
cheap. What with gear carried away and goods damaged, it don't
pay."
Uncle Seth was marking lines on the margin of the newspaper
before them.
"I wonder," he began, "how much—"
Then they talked in undertones, and I heard nothing more.

CHAPTER V
A MYSTERIOUS PROJECT

For three days I watched with growing amazement the strange

behavior of my uncle. Now he would sit hunched up over his desk
and search through a great pile of documents from the safe; now he
would toss the papers into his strong box, lock it, and return it to its
place in the vault, and pace the floor in a revery so deep that you
could speak in his very ear without getting a reply. At one minute he
would be as cross as a devil's imp, and turn on you in fury if you
wished to do him a favor; at the next he would fairly laugh aloud
with good humor.
The only man at whom he never flew out in a rage was Cornelius
Gleazen, and why this should be so, I could only guess. You may be
sure that I, and others, tried hard to fathom the secret, when the
two of them were sitting at my uncle's desk over a huge mass of
papers, as they were for hours at a time.
On the noon of the third day they settled themselves together at the
desk and talked interminably in undertones. Now Uncle Seth would
bend over his papers; now he would look off across the road and the
meadows to the woods beyond. Now he would put questions; now
he would sit silent. An hour passed, and another, and another. At
four o'clock they were still there, still talking in undertones. At five
o'clock their heads were closer together than ever. Now Neil Gleazen
was tapping on the top of his beaver. He had a strange look, which I
did not understand, and between his eyes and the flashing of his
diamond as his finger tapped the hat, he charmed me as if he were
a snake. Even Sim Muzzy was watching them curiously, and on
Arnold Lamont's fine, sober face there was an expression of mingled
wonder and distrust.
Customers came, and we waited on them; and when they had gone,
the two were still there. The clocks were striking six when I faced
about, hearing their chairs move, and saw them shaking hands and
smiling. Then Cornelius Gleazen went away, and my uncle, carefully
locking up his papers, went out, too.
Supper was late that night, for I waited until Uncle Seth came in; but
he made no excuse for his long absence and late return. He ate
rapidly and in silence, as if he were not thinking of his food, and he
took no wine until he had pushed his plate away. Then he poured
himself a glass from the decanter, tasted it, and said, "I am to be
away to-morrow, Joe."
"Yes, sir," said I.
"I may be back to-morrow night and I may not. As to that, I can't
say. But I wish, come afternoon, you'd go to Abe Guptil's for me. I've
an errand there I want you to do."
I waited in silence.
"I hold a mortgage of two thousand dollars on his place," he
presently went on. "I've let it run, out of good-nature. Good-nature
don't pay. Well, I'm going to need the money. Give him a month to
pay up. If he can't, tell him I'll sell him out."
"You'll what?" I cried, not believing that I heard him aright.
"I'll sell him out. Pringle has been wanting the place and he'll give at
least two thousand."
"Now, Uncle Seth, Abraham Guptil's been a long time sick. His best
horse broke a leg a while back and he had to shoot it, and while he
was sick his crops failed. He can't pay you now. Give him another
year. He's good for the money and he pays his interest on the day
it's due."
Uncle Seth frowned. "I've been too good-natured," he said sharply.
"I need the money myself. I shall sell him out."
"But—"
"Well?"
I stopped short. After all, I could not save Abe Guptil—I knew Uncle
Seth too well for that. And it might be easier for Abe if I broke the
news than if, say, Uncle Seth did.
"Very well," I replied after a moment's thought. "I will go."
Uncle Seth, appeased by my compliance, gave a short grunt, curtly
bade me good-night and stumped off to bed. But I, wondering what
was afoot, sat a long time at table while the candles burned lower
and lower.
Next morning, clad in his Sunday best, Uncle Seth waited in front of
the store, with his horses harnessed and ready, until the tall familiar
figure, with cane, cigar, and beaver hat, came marching grandly
down from the inn. Then the two got into the carriage and drove
away.
Some hours later, leaving Arnold Lamont in charge of the store, I set
off in turn, but humbly and on foot, toward the white house by the
distant sea where poor Abraham Guptil lived; and you can be sure
that it made me sick at heart to think of my errand.
From the pine land and meadows of Topham, the road emerged on
the border of a salt marsh, along which I tramped for an hour or
two; then, passing now through scrubby timber, now between
barren farms, it led up on higher ground, which a few miles farther
on fell away to tawny rocks and yellow sand and the sea, which
came rolling in on the beach in long, white hissing waves. Islands in
the offing seemed to give promise of other, far-distant lands; and
the sun was so bright and the water so blue that I thought to myself
how much I would give to go a-sailing with Uncle Seth in search of
adventure.
Late in the afternoon I saw ahead of me, beside the road, the small
white house, miles away from any other, where Abraham Guptil
lived. A dog came barking out at me, and a little boy came to call
back the dog; then a woman appeared in the door and told me I
was welcome. Abe, it seemed, was away working for a neighbor, but
he would be back soon, for supper-time was near. If I would stay
with them for the meal, she said, they should be glad and honored.
So I sat down on the doorstone and made friends with the boy and
the dog, and talked away about little things that interested the boy,
until we saw Abraham Guptil coming home across the fields with the
sun at his back.
He shook hands warmly, but his face was anxious, and when after
supper we went out doors and I told him as kindly as I could the
errand on which my uncle had sent me, he shook his head.
"I feared it," said he. "It's rumored round the country that Seth
Upham's collecting money wherever he can. Without this, I've been
in desperate straits, and now—"
He spread his hands hopelessly and leaned against the fence. His
eyes wandered over the acres on which he was raising crops by
sheer strength and determination. It was a poor, stony farm, yet the
man had claimed it from the wilderness and, what with fishing and
odd jobs, had been making a success of life until one misfortune
after another had fairly overwhelmed him.
"It must go," he said at last.
As best I could, I was taking leave of him for the long tramp home,
when he suddenly roused himself and cried, "But stay! See! The
storm is hard upon us. You must not go back until to-morrow."
Heavy clouds were banking in the west, and already we could hear
the rumble of thunder.
It troubled me to accept the hospitality of the Guptils when I had
come on such an errand; but the kindly souls would hear of no
denial, so I joined Abe in the chores with such good-will, that we
had milked, and fed the stock, and closed the barns for the night
before the first drops fell.
Meanwhile much had gone forward indoors, and when we returned
to the house I was shown to a great bed made up with clean linen
fragrant of lavender. Darkness had scarcely fallen, but I was so
weary that I undressed and threw myself on the bed and went
quietly to sleep while the storm came raging down the coast.
As one so often does in a strange place, I woke uncommonly early.
Dawn had no more than touched the eastern horizon, but I got out
of bed and, hearing someone stirring, went to the window. A door
closed very gently, then a man came round the corner of the house
and struck off across the fields. It was Abraham Guptil. What could
he be doing abroad at that hour? Going to the door of my room,
which led into the kitchen, I softly opened it, then stopped in
amazement. Someone was asleep on the kitchen floor. I looked
closer and saw that it was a woman with a child; then I turned back
and closed the door again.
Rather than send me away, even though I brought a message that
meant the loss of their home, those good people had given me the
one bed in the house, and themselves, man, woman, and child, had
slept on hard boards, with only a blanket under them.
Since I could not leave my room without their knowing that I had
discovered their secret, I sat down by the window and watched the
dawn come across the sea upon a world that was clean and cool
after the shower of the night. For an hour, as the light grew stronger,
I watched the slow waves that came rolling in and poured upon the
long rocks in cascades of silver; and still the time wore on, and still
Abe remained away. Another hour had nearly gone when I saw him
coming in the distance along the shore, and heard his wife stirring
outside.
Now someone knocked at my door.
I replied with a prompt "Good-morning," and presently went into the
kitchen, where the three greeted me warmly. All signs of their
sleeping on the kitchen floor had vanished.
"I don't know what I shall do, Joe," said Abraham Guptil when I was
taking leave of him an hour later. "This place is all I have."
I made up my mind there and then that neither Abraham Guptil nor
his wife and child should suffer want.
"I'll see to that," I replied. "There'll be something for you to do and
some place for you to go."
Then, with no idea how I should fulfil my promise, I shook his hand
and left him.
When at last I got back to the store, Arnold Lamont was there alone.
My uncle had not returned, and Sim Muzzy had gone fishing. It was
an uncommonly hot day, and since there were few customers, we
sat and talked of one thing and another.
When I saw that Arnold was looking closely at the foils, which stood
in a corner, an idea came to me. Cornelius Gleazen had praised my
swordsmanship to the skies, and, indeed, I was truly becoming a
match for him. Twice I had actually taken a bout from him, with a
great swishing and clattering of blades and stamping of feet, and
now, although he continued to give me lessons, he no longer would
meet me in an assault. As for the other young fellows, I had far and
away outstripped them.
"Would you like to try the foils once, Arnold?" I asked. "I'll give you a
lesson if you say so."
For a moment I thought there was a twinkle in the depths of his
eyes; but when I looked again they were sober and innocent.
"Why, yes," he said.
Something in the way he tested the foils made me a bit uneasy, in
spite of my confidence, but I shrugged it off.
"You have learned well by watching," I said, as we came on guard.
"I have tried it before," said he.
"Then," said I, "I will lunge and you shall see if you can parry me."
"Very well."
After a few perfunctory passes, during which I advanced and
retreated in a way that I flattered myself was exceptionally clever,
and after a quick feint in low line, I disengaged, deceived a counter-
parry by doubling, and confidently lunged. To my amazement my foil
rested against his blade hardly out of line with his body—so slightly
out of line that I honestly believed the attack had miscarried by my
own clumsiness. Certainly I never had seen so nice a parry. That I
escaped a riposte, I attributed to my deft recovery and the constant
pressure of my blade on his; but even then I had an uncomfortable
suspicion that behind the veil of his black mask Arnold was smiling,
and I was really dazed by the failure of an attack that seemed to me
so well planned and executed.
Then, suddenly, easily, lightly, Arnold Lamont's blade wove its way
through my guard. His arms, his legs, his body moved with a lithe
precision such as I had never dreamed of; my own foil, circling
desperately, failed to find his, and his button rested for a moment
against my right breast so surely and so competently that, in the
face of his skill, I simply dropped my guard and stood in frank
wonder and admiration.
Even then I was vaguely aware that I could not fully appreciate it.
Though I had thought myself an accomplished swordsman, the
man's dexterity, which had revealed me as a clumsy blunderer, was
so amazingly superior to anything I had ever seen, that I simply
could not realize to the full how remarkable it was.
I whipped off my mask and cried, "You,—you are a fencer."
He smiled. "Are you surprised? A man does not tell all he knows."
As I looked him in the face, I wondered at him. Uncle Seth had
come to rely upon him implicitly for far more than you can get from
any ordinary clerk. Yet we really knew nothing at all about him. "A
man does not tell all he knows"—He had held his tongue without a
slip for all those years.
I saw him now in a new light. His face was keen, but more than
keen. There was real wisdom in it. The quiet, confident dignity with
which he always bore himself seemed suddenly to assume a new,
deeper, more mysterious significance. Whatever the man might be, it
was certain that he was no mere shopkeeper's clerk.
That afternoon Uncle Seth and Gleazen, the one strangely elated,
the other more pompous and grand than ever, returned in the
carriage. Of their errand, for the time being they said nothing.
Uncle Seth merely asked about Abe Guptil's note; and, when I
answered him, impatiently grunted.
Poor Abe, I thought, and wondered what had come over my uncle.
In the evening, as we were finishing supper, Uncle Seth leaned back
with a broad smile. "Joe, my lad," he said, "our fortunes are making.
Great days are ahead. I can buy and sell the town of Topham now,
but before we are through, Joe, I—or you with the money I shall
leave you—can buy and sell the city of Boston—aye, or the
Commonwealth of Massachusetts. There are great days ahead, Joe."
"But what," I asked, with fear at my heart, "but what is this great
venture?"
Uncle Seth looked at me with a smile that expressed whatever
power of affection was left in his hard old shell of a heart,—a
meagre affection, yet, as far as it went, all centred upon me,—and
revealed a great conceit of his own wisdom.
"Joe," he said, leaning forward on his elbows till his face, on which
the light threw every testy wrinkle into sharp relief, was midway
between the two candles at the end of the table, "Joe, I've bought a
ship and we're all going to Africa."
For a moment his voice expressed confidence; for a moment his
affection for me triumphed over his native sharpness.
"You're all I've got, Joey," he cried, "You're all that's left to the old
man, and I'm going to do well by you. Whatever I have is yours,
Joey; it's all coming to you, every cent and every dollar. Here,—you
must be wanting a bit of money to spend,—here!" He thrust his
hand into his pocket and flung half a dozen gold pieces down on the
dark, well-oiled mahogany where they rang and rolled and shone
dully in the candle-light. "I swear, Joey, I think a lot of you."
I suppose that not five people in all Topham had ever seen Uncle
Seth in such a mood. I am sure that, if they had, the town could
never have thought of him as only a cold, exacting man. But now a
fear apparently overwhelmed him lest by so speaking out through
his reticence he had committed some unforgivable offense—lest he
had told too much. He seemed suddenly to snap back into his hard,
cynical shell. "But of that, no more," he said sharply. "Not a word's
to be said, you understand. Not a word—to any one."
When I went back to the store that evening, I sat on the porch in
the darkness and thought of Uncle Seth as I had seen him across
the table, his face thrust forward between the candles, his elbows
planted on the white linen, with the dim, restful walls of the room
behind him, with the faces of my father and my mother looking
down upon us from the gilt frames on the wall. I knew him too well
to ask questions, even though, as I sat on the store porch, he was
sitting just behind me inside the open window.
What, I wondered, almost in despair, could we, of all people, do with
a ship and a voyage to Africa? Had I not seen Cornelius Gleazen play
upon my uncle's fear and vanity and credulity? I had no doubt
whatever that the same Neil Gleazen, who had been run out of town
thirty years before, was at the bottom of whatever mad voyage my
uncle was going to send his ship upon.
Then I thought of good old Abraham Guptil, so soon to be turned
out of house and home, and of Arnold Lamont, who saw and knew
and understood so much, yet said so little. And again I thought of
Cornelius Gleazen; and when I was thinking of him, a strange thing
came to pass.
Down in the village a dog barked fiercely, then another nearer the
store, then another; then I saw coming up the road a figure that I
could not mistake. The man with that tall hat, that flowing coat, that
nonchalant air, which even the faint light of the stars revealed, could
be no other than Cornelius Gleazen himself.
In the store behind me I heard the low drone of conversation from
the men gathered round the stove, the click of a chessman set firmly
on the board, the voice of Arnold Lamont—so clear, so precise, and
yet so definitely and indescribably foreign—saying, "Check!" Through
the small panes of glass I saw my uncle frowning over his ledgers.
Now he noted some figure on the foolscap at his right, now he
appeared to count on his fingers.
I turned again to watch Cornelius Gleazen. Of course he could not
know that anyone was sitting on the porch in the darkness. When he
passed the store, he looked over at it with a turn of his head and a
twist of his shoulders. His gesture gave me an impression of scorn
and triumph so strong that I hardly restrained myself from retorting
loudly and angrily. Then I bit my lip and watched him go by and
disappear.
"Who," I wondered, "who and what really is Cornelius Gleazen?"
 II
HANDS ACROSS THE SEA
 CHAPTER VI
GOOD-BYE TO OLD HAUNTS AND FACES

That some extraordinary thing was afoot next day, every soul who
worked in our store, or who entered it on business, vaguely felt. To
me, who had gained a hint of what was going forward,—baffling and
tantalizing, yet a hint for all that,—and to Arnold Lamont, who, I was
convinced as I saw him watch my uncle's nervous movements,
although he had no such plain hint to go upon, had by his keen,
silent observation unearthed even more than I, the sense of an
impending great event was far from vague. I felt as sure as of my
own name that before nightfall something would happen to uproot
me from my native town, whose white houses and green trees and
hedges, kindly people and familiar associations, lovely scenes and
quiet, homely life I so deeply loved.
The strange light in Cornelius Gleazen's eyes, as he watched us hard
at work taking an inventory of stock, confirmed me in the
presentiment. My uncle's harassed, nervous manner as he drove us
on with our various duties, Sim Muzzy's garrulous bewilderment, and
Arnold Lamont's keen, silent appraisal, added each its little to the
sum of my convictions.
The warmer the day grew, the harder we worked. Uncle Seth flew
about like a madman, picking us up on this thing and that, and
urging one to greater haste, another to greater care. Throwing off
his coat, he pitched in with his own hands, and performed such
prodigies of labor that it seemed as if our force were doubled by the
addition of himself alone. And all the time Neil Gleazen sat and
smiled and tapped his beaver.
He was so cool, so impudent about it, that I longed to turn on him
and vent my spleen; but to Uncle Seth it apparently seemed entirely
suitable that Gleazen should idle while others worked.
Of the true meaning of all this haste and turmoil I had no further
inkling until in the early afternoon Gleazen called loudly,—
"He's here, prompt to the minute."
Then Uncle Seth drew a long breath, mopped the sweat from his
face and cried,—
"I'm ready for him, thank heaven! The boys can be finishing up what
little's left."
I looked, and saw a gentleman, just alighted from his chaise, tying a
handsome black horse to the hitching-post before the door.
Turning his back upon us all, Uncle Seth rushed to the door, his
hands extended, and cried, "Welcome, sir! Since cock-crow this
morning we have been hard at work upon the inventory, and it's this
minute done—at least, all but adding a few columns. Sim, another
chair by my desk. Quick! Mr. Gleazen, I wish to present you to Mr.
Brown. Come in, sir, come in."
The three shook hands, and all sat down together and talked for
some time; then, at the stranger's remark,—"Now for figures.
There's nothing like figures to tell a story, Mr. Upham. Eh, Mr.
Gleazen? We can run over those columns you spoke of, here and
now,"—they bestirred themselves.
"You're right, sir," Uncle Seth cried: and then he sharply called,
"Arnold, bring me those lists you've just finished. That's right; is that
all? Well, then you take the other boys and return those boxes in the
back room to their shelves. That'll occupy you all of an hour."
No longer able to pick up an occasional sentence of their talk, we
glumly retired out of earshot and were more than ever irritated
when Gleazen, his cigar between his teeth, stamped up to the door
between the front room and the back and firmly closed it.
"Why should they wish so much to be alone?" Arnold asked.
I ventured no reply; but Sim Muzzy, as if personally affronted, burst
hotly forth:—
"You'd think Seth Upham would know enough to ask the advice of a
man who's been working for him ever since Neil Gleazen ran away
from home, now wouldn't you? Here I've toiled day in and out and
done good work for him and learned the business, for all the many
times he's said he never saw a thicker head, until there ain't a better
hand at candling eggs, not this side of Boston, than I be. And does
he ask my advice when he's got something up his sleeve? No, he
don't! And yet I'll leave it to Arnold, here, if my nose ain't keener to
scent sour milk than any nose in Topham—yes, sir."
The idea of Sim Muzzy's advice on any matter of greater importance
than the condition of an egg or the sweetness of milk, in
determining which, to do him justice, he was entirely competent,
struck me as so funny that I almost sniggered. Nor could I have
restrained myself, even so, when I perceived Arnold looking at me
solemnly and as if reproachfully, had not Uncle Seth just then
opened the door and called, "Sim, there's a lady here wants some
calico and spices. Come and wait on her."
When, fifteen minutes later, Sim returned, closing the door smartly
behind him, Arnold asked with a droll quirk, which I alone perceived,
"Well, my friend, what did you gather during your stay in yonder?"
"Gather? Gather?" Sim spluttered. "I gathered nothing. There was
talk of dollars and cents and pounds and pence, and stocks and oils,
and ships and horses, and though I listened till my head swam, all I
could make out was when Neil Gleazen told me to shut the door
behind my back. If they was to ask my advice, I'd tell 'em to talk
sense, that's what I'd do."
"Ah, Sim," said Arnold, "if only they were to ask thy advice, what
advice thee would give them!"
"Now you're talking like a Quaker," Sim replied hotly. "Why do
Quakers talk that way, I'd like to know. Thee-ing and thou-ing till it
is enough to fuddle a sober man's wits. I declare they are almost as
bad as people in foreign parts who, I've heard tell, have such a
queer way of talking that an honest man can't at all understand
what they're saying until he's got used to it."
"Such, indeed, is the way of the inconsiderate world, Sim," Arnold
dryly replied.
Then the three of us put our shoulders to a hogshead, and in the
mighty effort of lifting it to the bulkhead sill ceased to talk.
As we finally raised it and shoved it into the yard, Sim stepped
farther out than Arnold and I, and looking toward the street,
whispered, "He's going."
I sprang over beside him and saw that the visitor, having already
unhitched his horse, was shaking hands with Uncle Seth. Stepping
into the chaise, he then drove off.
For a space of time so long that the man must have come to the
bend in the road, Uncle Seth and Cornelius Gleazen watched him as
he went; then, to puzzle us still further, smiling broadly, they shook
hands, and turning about, still entirely unaware that we were
watching them, walked with oddly pleased expressions back into the
store.
My uncle's face expressed such confidence and friendliness as even I
had seldom seen on it.
"Now ain't that queer?" Sim began. "If Seth Upham was a little less
set in his ways, I'd—"
With a shrug Arnold Lamont broke in upon what seemed likely to be
a long harangue, and made a comment that was much more to the
point. "Now," said he, "we are going to hear what has happened."
Surely enough, we thought. No sooner were we back in the store, all
three of us, than the door opened and in came Uncle Seth.
"Well," said he, brusquely, and yet with a certain pleased expression
still lingering about his eyes, "I expected you to have done more.
Hm! Well, work hard. We must have things in order come morning."
Arnold smiled as my uncle promptly returned to the front room, but
Sim and I were keenly disappointed.
"How now, you who are so clever?" Sim cried when Uncle Seth again
had closed the door. "How now, Arnold? We have heard nothing."
"Why," said Arnold, imperturbably, "not exactly 'nothing.' We have
learned that the man is coming back to-morrow."
"Are you crazy?" Sim responded. "Seth Upham said nothing of the
kind."
Arnold only smiled again. "Wait and see," he said.
So we worked until late at night, putting all once more to rights; and
in the morning, true to Arnold's prophecy, the gentleman with the
big black horse, accompanied now by a friend, made a second visit
in the front room of the store.
This time he talked but briefly with Uncle Seth and Neil Gleazen,
who had already waited an hour for his arrival. As if eager to see our
business for himself, he then walked through the store, examining
every little detail of the stock and fixtures, and asked a vast number
of questions, which in themselves showed that he knew what he was
about and that he was determined to get at the bottom of our
affairs. There was talk of barrels of Alexandria superfine flour and
hogsheads of Kentucky tobacco; of teas—Hyson, young Hyson,
Hyson skin, Powchong and Souchong; of oil, summer and winter; of
Isles of Shoals dun fish and Holland gin and preserved ginger, and
one thing and another, until, with answering the questions they
asked me, I was fairly dizzy.
Having examined store and stock to his satisfaction, he then went
with Uncle Seth, to my growing wonder, up to our own house; and
from what Sim reported when he came back from a trip to spy upon