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her that I live with an old lumberjack that acts ornery to cover his big heart.” “Well, you ain’t so easy to live with yourself, you know,” Jim growled, brushing off any kind of compliment. Eli shook his head and turned back to Whitman. “So, Whitman, do you have any idea when the ship should arrive?” Whitman shrugged. “I thought you said it was today.” “Yes. Yes. It is supposed to come in today. But what time?” “Hard to tell exactly,” Whitman said, scanning the horizon. Then, remembering his clipboard, he looked down at it and then back at Eli. “What’s the name of the ship?” Eli pulled a paper from his pocket. “It’s right here in this letter. It’s kind of a strange name. Nacs, I guess.” “Nacs?” both Whitman and Jim repeated in surprise. “Yes. N-A-C-S,” Eli said spelling it for them. Whitman shook his head. “I haven’t ever heard of such a ship. But let me check the log.” Whitman checked and shook his head. “Nope. The only ship I show scheduled for today is one called the North Atlantic Cattle Ship. I don’t see any passenger boats coming until a week from tomorrow.” Eli flopped dejectedly onto a crate near Jim. “But the letter said she would be in today.” “Well,” Whitman said. “I don’t know about that. All I know is what my book says.” Jim looked at his disappointed young friend and seemed to soften. “Are you absolutely sure it was today, 5