"I say, what does he mean about the stories I told about you and Coote.
I never told any stories, that I remember. I never had any to tell."
"Ah, I was wondering what that meant," said Dick. "He speaks as if
you'd been blabbing all sorts of things."
"I really don't think I ever did," said Heathcote, ransacking his
memory. "I may have said once I thought Coote was rather an ass, but
that was all."
"What made you tell him that?" said Coote.
"He asked me if I didn't think so," said Georgie, apologetically, "and
of course I was bound to say what I thought."
"Rather," said Coote.
"But he's telling crams about you, Dick," said Georgie; "I'm quite sure
of that. He used to try and make out you were a sneak and a prig; and
perhaps I believed him once or twice, but that was while I was a cad,
you know."
"Oh, yes, that's all right!" said Dick, putting his arm in that of his
friend.
Pledge would have had very little consolation out of this short
discussion, and if for the next two days he sat up in his study
expecting that every footstep belonged to the "Firm" on its way to
capitulate, he must have been sorely disappointed. Capitulation was the
one consideration which had never once entered the heads of the honest
fraternity.
That afternoon the town of Templeton was startled by an incident, which
had it come to the ears of our heroes, as they sat and groaned over
their "Select Dialogues of the Dead," would have effectually driven
every letter of the Greek alphabet out of their heads for the time
being.
The event was nothing else but the arrival in port of the collier brig,
_Hail! Columbia_ with a cargo of coals from the Tyne, and _mirabile
dictu_! with the _Martha_ lying comfortably, bottom upwards, safe and
sound, on her deck.
The collier, according to the account of the skipper, had been running
across the head of the bay on the 5th of June last, in half a cap of
wind from the shore, when it sighted the _Martha_ drifting empty out to
sea. Having sent one of his men after her to capture her, and being
convinced by the absence of oars or tackle that she must have drifted
from her moorings empty, he took her on board; and, as he was bound to
deliver his cargo by a certain day, and the wind being against his
putting into Templeton, he stowed his prize comfortably away amidships,
where she had been ever since, awaiting his next call at Templeton.
With the free-and-easy business ways of his craft, he had neglected to
send any letter or message announcing the safety of the _Martha_ to her
afflicted friends; and having been detained in this place and that by
stress of weather or business, he had now, after more than three months'
absence, his first opportunity of restoring the lost property to its
rightful owner.
If the simple fishermen of Templeton had been inclined to believe in
miracles, the strange reappearance of the missing _Martha_ at this
particular time must have savoured of something of the sort. But being
matter-of-fact folk, they contented themselves with lounging round the
boat as she lay once more on the beach, staring at her, and wondering
between their whiffs what the solicitors and judges would say now.
The skipper of the _Hail! Columbia_ had neither the time nor the
patience to discover who just now was the lawful owner of the boat.
Some said Tom White; some said Tom White's partners; some said the
pawnbroker.
The master disposed the problem off his mind very simply by setting down
the _Martha_ on the beach, and letting those who chose to claim her
settle their squabble among themselves.
The news of the return of the prodigal was not long in spreading; and by
the time the Templeton boys came down for their afternoon bathe it was
common property.
Our heroes heard it in the water, from Raggles, and immediately landed
and dressed. They scarcely exchanged a word till they stood at the side
of the _Martha_, where she lay in almost the same spot where two of them
had seen her three-and-a-half months ago. Then Dick said:--
"Think of her turning up at last!"
"I half guessed she would," said Georgie, "though I never expected it.
I say, this settles our row, doesn't it?"
"Pretty well. But of course Tom White may catch it for pawning the
boat. He collared the money, you know."
"Ah, but that's not got much to do with us," said Heathcote.
"Well," said Dick, "we ought to back him right up, while we are at it.
Besides, you know, we may still get into a row for letting her go,
though she _has_ turned up."
Altogether the "Firm" were not very sure how far their position was
improved by the recovery of the _Martha_. If Pledge, or any one, chose
to tell tales, or if they themselves, in order to extricate Tom White,
had to tell tales of themselves, all might yet go wrong. The one good
thing, they decided, was that Mr Richardson, when he came to-morrow,
would be saved the expense of buying at least one new boat for somebody.
Our heroes, as in duty bound, were at the station to meet the 3:5 train,
and give the worthy paterfamilias a reception.
"Hullo, father," cried Dick, as if he had only parted with his parent
five minutes ago, "they've found her, I say. Do you see that two-masted
collier in the harbour? She picked her up, the day after we slipped
her. Isn't it jolly?"
Mr Richardson certainly looked surprised, and a trifle relieved; but
the matter did not yet occur to him in a "jolly" light.
"It's a good thing she has come back," said he; "and now, as I have a
great deal to do, I'll say good-bye for the present. I have sent a note
to Doctor Winter, to ask him to let you breakfast with me at the
'George,' in the morning."
"Thanks, awfully, sir," said Coote, beaming all over.
Mr Richardson laughed.
"I'm afraid I only mentioned Basil in my note," said he, "but I daresay
we shall be able to have a meal together later in the day. Good-bye."
"Rather cool cheek of you, Coote," said Dick, as the "Firm" returned to
the school, "cadging my father that way for breakfast."
"Very sorry," said Coote, humbly. "I thought we were all in it, that's
all."
The evening passed anxiously for the boys, and no less so for poor Mr
Richardson, who was buffeted about from pillar to post, from lawyer to
lawyer, from boatman to pawnbroker, in his honest efforts to extricate
his son from his scrape.
The recovery of the _Martha_, he found, made very little improvement in
his prospects. For now she had come back, everybody seemed to be
calculating the amount of money she would have brought in had she
remained at Templeton during the busy season. This loss was estimated
at several times the value of the boat, and the high-principled
prosecutors would hear no suggestion of withdrawing the case until each
one of them--partners, pawnbroker, and all--had been refunded the entire
sum.
Then, when that was done, the lawyers pulled their bills out of their
desks, and hinted that some one would have to settle them; and as
neither the partners, nor the pawnbroker, nor Tom White, saw their way
to doing so, Mr Richardson had to draw his own inferences and settle
them himself. Then, when all seemed settled, the police recollected
that they had had considerable trouble in looking after the case. They
had made several journeys, and spent several hours on the beach looking
out for the supposed thief. They had also had charge of Tom White for a
fortnight; and what with postages, telegrams, and office fees, they were
decidedly out of pocket over the whole business.
The long-suffering father put them in pocket, and after subscribing to
several local charities, and consoling the reporters of the _Templeton
Observer_ and other such outsiders, he retired, jaded, but comforted, to
the "George," feeling that if his mission had been successful, it had
cost him an amount of generosity which he could hardly have believed was
in him.
When Dick, "with shining morning face," presented himself next morning
for breakfast, he little imagined how much of his father's money was at
that moment scattered about in Templeton.
"Huzza! father," said he, when his parent presented himself in the
coffee-room. "Such a game! Cresswell says he'll give us his study this
evening, so our 'Firm's' going to give you a spread. Coote and Georgie
are out ordering the tucker now--kidneys and tea-cake. I asked Winter
when I went for my _exeat_ if we might have you, and he said, 'Yes; he'd
be very glad.' Mind you come. It'll be a stunning spread, and Georgie
and Coote are sure to pick out good things. I wish mother could come
too."
In the face of this hospitable outburst, Mr Richardson could hardly
expatiate on the cost and anxiety of his mission to Templeton. A calmer
moment must do for that. Meanwhile he delighted his son's heart by
accepting his invitation on the spot.
He allowed Dick and his two friends, if it fitted in with school rules,
to be present in the Court to hear the end of Tom White's case--a
permission they were not slow to avail themselves of, although this time
they occupied a modest seat at the back, and attempted no public
manifestations of encouragement to the prisoner in court.
The case ended very simply. When it was called on, and Tom, as friendly
as ever, was ushered into the box, no one appeared to accuse him, and
the magistrates, rightly concluding this to mean that the prosecution
had retired, dismissed the case accordingly.
Tom said, "Thank'ee, sir," and looked quite bewildered on being told he
might walk out of court a free man.
Our heroes, who had already got outside before he reached the door,
deemed it their duty to complete their efforts in his favour by
congratulating him on his escape.
"Jolly glad we are, Tom White," said Dick, as the worthy mariner came
towards them. "It was hard lines for you, and it wasn't all your fault.
It's my father got you off, you know."
"Thank'ee, young gentleman. It's very hard on a hard-working mariner
not to have his living. If you could spare a trifle and tell the
gentlemen, I'd thank you kindly."
"We haven't got any tin to spare now," said Dick, who knew that the
resources of the "Firm" had been well-nigh exhausted in preparation for
the spread in Cresswell's study that evening; "but we won't forget.
Good-bye, old man. Jolly glad you've got out at last!"