A Pair of Amateur Salts
A quarter of an hour later the three boys were sitting about the
“air-tight” stove in the front room of the little, white, clap-boarded,
green-shuttered house that was Jack’s home. They had left the _Crystal
Spring_ safely moored in the Cove, with the motor boat swinging astern,
dropped into the little dory and paddled ashore. From the little beach
up to the Herrick house was but a few yards, and in a trice they
were inside, listening to the surprised ejaculations of Aunt Mercy
and dripping water onto the immaculate waxed floor of the “passage.”
Aunt Mercy Fuller was Jack’s mother’s sister, and ever since Mrs.
Herrick had died, when Jack was only four years old, the sharp-voiced,
kind-hearted little woman had kept house at the Cove. After the
death of Jack’s father, only a year ago, Aunt Mercy’s presence was
more indispensable than ever, for Jack’s sister, Faith, was only
thirteen, and so, still in school. All of Jack’s dry clothing had been
requisitioned and the drafts in the stove opened wide, and now, none
the worse for their wetting, the two visitors were recounting their
adventures to the household.
Harry Folsom was nearly Jack’s age, being some three months younger.
He was like Jack in many ways, for which the fact that each came of
an old Greenhaven family was perhaps accountable. Harry’s hair was of
quite an ordinary shade of dark brown and his face was not tanned and
seasoned by sun and weather. And his eyes were gray instead of brown.
But dissimilarity seemed to end there. He was much like Jack in build
and weight and he had the same easy, careless swing from the hips when
he walked, and the same way of looking straightly and unwinkingly
when he talked. Harry’s father was Josiah Folsom, the head of the big
fish company of Greenhaven, and a man of much wealth. He and Jack had
been together at high school the year before, but last fall Jack had
left school to sail the _Crystal Spring_ and Harry, or Hal, as he was
called, had entered Norwalk Hall, the big preparatory school some
thirty miles distant and just over the line into New Hampshire.
His companion Hal had introduced as Beaman Mansfield. Harry called
him Bee and so we might as well do the same. Bee was visiting Harry,
it seemed, having arrived with him in Greenhaven only the evening
before. They were roommates at school and evidently great chums.
Beaman Mansfield was fifteen years of age, slight, tall, black of hair
and eye, and almost sallow as to complexion. As Harry narrated their
exploits Bee interpolated remarks which, if they were not especially
informative, seldom failed to amuse.
“You see,” said Harry, “that launch is a new one. Dad got it for me a
week ago and I never saw it until yesterday. This morning we thought
it would be a good plan to go for a sail in her. So we filled her tank
with gasoline and started out. I’d never run a motor boat before, but
Bee said he knew something about the things――”
“I know a heap more now,” observed Bee, gravely.
“So we started. She went finely for about ten minutes and we were
down off The Lump. Then she stopped. I told Bee to get busy and find
out what the trouble was and he monkeyed around with a wrench and a
screw-driver for almost half an hour.”
“I deny it!” exclaimed Bee. “I knew at once where the trouble lay!”
“Yes, you did!”
“I certainly did! It was in the engine.”
“Oh! Well, it took you long enough to dig it out. Anyhow, we got her
started again and she went like a breeze; must have made at least
twelve miles an hour, Jack, and we were about two miles down the shore
when――_bing_, stopped again!”
“And she’s been ‘binging’ ever since,” murmured Bee.
“By then it was time for lunch. So we rowed ashore near the life saving
station and walked up to that little store where the old toll-gate used
to be. It’s quite a ways up there.”
“About ten miles,” said Bee thoughtfully.
Jack laughed. “I dare say it seemed that far if you were hungry. It’s
about three-quarters of a mile, I guess.”
“Well, we were hungry,” replied Bee. “I was, at any rate. I’d had
nothing since breakfast but that nasty yellow cup-grease and gasoline.”
“We bought some crackers and some sardines and two oranges. I’ll bet
old man Doonin had had them all for at least six months.”
“I think they were some of his Christmas stock left over,” remarked Bee
reflectively.
“They were pretty fierce, anyway, and we decided the best thing to do
was to hike home and get a real feed. So we went back to the launch and
tried to start her again. But she wouldn’t start――”
“It was another case of ‘bing!’” said Bee.
“And it took us all of an hour to get going. Bee and I took turns at
the fly wheel――”
“I beg your pardon?” remarked Bee, sitting up quickly. “Did I
understand you to say that _we_ took turns? Allow me to correct you,
Hal, _I_ took turns!”
“Well, I like your cheek! My arm’s as stiff as――as――as a board! And it
aches every time I move it! I’ll bet I turned that old wheel over two
thousand times today; and it weighs a ton, too!”
“What sort of an engine has she got?” asked Jack.
“An eight-horsepower Philbert.”
“I think myself it’s a chestnut,” observed Bee. “And if you think your
arm aches, why, I just wish you had mine!”
“Did――did you get the boat started finally?” asked Faith anxiously. The
boys laughed, and Faith, a pretty, dark-haired young lady, inclined to
be shy, blushed.
“Yes, finally,” answered Hal. “That was about――what time, Bee?”
“About two hours after lunch time,” replied Bee, gloomily.
“Yes, about half-past two, I guess. Then she went pretty well for
awhile, although she choked and coughed a good deal――”
“She has consumption,” said Bee, with a shake of his head. “She won’t
last long.”
“She stopped once near the outer buoy and again just off the light. And
that time Bee said he was going to fix her right and began to take the
engine to pieces.”
“It was the only thing to do,” explained Bee gravely to Jack. “Take her
to pieces and put her together again.”
“You got her to pieces all right,” continued Hal, “but you couldn’t get
her together again.”
“Well, there were two or three small thing-mabobs I couldn’t find
places for. I still think she’s just as well without them.”
“All that time we were drifting along the breakwater. We haven’t any
anchor yet, you see, and there was no place to tie up to. Then the
squall came up while we were trying to get her to start and the first
thing we knew we were going out to sea at about a mile a minute.”
“She went faster than she did at any other time all day,” said Bee. “It
just showed what fixing the engine did for her.”
“Yes, you ‘fixed’ it all right,” said Hal, sarcastically. “If it hadn’t
been for Jack we’d be half-way to Africa by now.”
“I’ve always wanted to see Africa,” replied his chum, calmly. “It must
be a very interesting place.”
“Maybe,” laughed Hal, “but I don’t care to go there in an eighteen-foot
motor boat. Of course we couldn’t do much when the blow came. We tried
to keep her bow into the waves, after we’d found we couldn’t row her,
but that was pretty hard work. And after awhile, when we got around
Popple Head, we gave that up and put all our strength into shouting.
I don’t mind telling you that we were getting sort of scared when you
came, Jack.”
“You had a right to be,” said Jack, dryly. “If I hadn’t heard you
you’d have had a pretty wet night of it. That wind would have taken
you across toward the Isle of Shoals, I guess, if you’d floated long
enough. Did you have anything to bail with?”
“Only my cap,” said Bee. “And it wasn’t satisfactory. I told Hal I
thought his would have been better.”
“Dear, dear,” murmured Aunt Mercy. “You boys certainly had a narrow
escape from death. I hope you won’t ever try anything so silly again.”
“No’m, we won’t,” Hal assured her. “We’re not going out in her again
until we have an anchor along.”
“And a tomato can,” suggested Bee.
“A tomato can?” Hal questioned. “What’s that for?”
“To bail with.”
“Why not have a bailer?” laughed Jack.
“All the boats I’ve ever been in,” replied Bee, soberly, “carried empty
tomato cans for bailing purposes. I wouldn’t know how to use anything
else.”
“And I guess,” said Jack, “you’d better get your engine put together
again before you take another trip. It might be that the things your
friend couldn’t get back were sort of necessary, Hal.”
“I don’t think so,” said Bee. “Maybe, though. I’m not sure that I know
where they are. Did I give them to you, Hal?”
“You did not!” replied Hal indignantly. “And if you’ve gone and lost
them――”
“Well, they may be kicking around under the grating somewhere. After we
get the water out of her we’ll have a look. I don’t believe, though,
we’ll ever find them; they were little trifling things.”
The others laughed and Jack arose and went to a window. It was still
raining hard, but the thunder and lightning had passed over and the
wind had diminished considerably. The old iron-case clock on the mantel
behind the glowing stove said a quarter past five.
“You fellows had better stay and have some supper,” he said. “There’s
no use trying to get back in this rain.”
“Oh, much obliged,” said Hal, “but we can get across to the ferry all
right. It’s just a little way, isn’t it?”
“About a quarter of a mile. But your clothes aren’t dry, I’m afraid.
You’re welcome to wear what you have on, but they don’t fit very well.
The best thing to do is to telephone over to your folks that you’re all
right and then stay here until your things get dried.”
“We――ll, it’s awfully good of you.” Hal looked inquiringly at
his friend. Bee appeared not to see the question. He only sighed
comfortably and stretched his long legs farther toward the stove. “If
we won’t be too much bother, Miss――Miss Fuller, I guess we’ll stay.”
“You won’t be any bother at all,” Aunt Mercy assured him. “I’ll just
tell Susan to cook a little more supper.”
“Let me go, Auntie,” said Faith.
“No, I’ll go. I cal’ate I’d better get down a pot of that barberry
preserve.”
“Gee,” laughed Jack, “I wish we had shipwrecked folks to supper every
night, don’t you, sis?” and Faith shyly owned that she did. Aunt Mercy
pretended to be insulted.
“I cal’ate, Jack Herrick, that you don’t ever suffer for preserves in
this house!” she declared.
“No, ma’am, not exactly for preserves. But that barberry preserve――say,
sis, we ain’t had any of that since about Christmas, have we?”
“You had some last Sunday night,” returned Aunt Mercy with asperity.
“And I’ve a good mind not to give you any, if you can’t remember when
you do have it!”
“Quite right, ma’am,” said Bee approvingly. “I think it would be good
punishment if you just gave it to the rest of us. I’m sure _I_ shan’t
forget it, ma’am!”
Aunt Mercy regarded him severely. “Humph!” she said. “I cal’ate, young
man, you don’t miss much in this world for want of a tongue in your
head!” Whereupon, with a grim smile, she sailed out of the room.
Hal chuckled. “I guess that will hold you for awhile, old Bee!” Then,
turning to Jack, “Did you say you had a telephone here?” he asked.
Jack shook his head. “No, but there’s one at Cottrell’s store, just
over the hill. I’ll run over there, if you like, and tell your folks
you’ll be home after supper.”
“What’s the matter with my going?” asked Hal. “Let me have your oilskin
coat, Jack, and point out the way. I guess I ought to let father know
I’m all right. He may be getting worried.”
The two boys went out, leaving Bee and Faith together in the quaint
little low-ceilinged room. Bee looked about him with interest. “You’ve
got an awfully comfortable home here, Miss Faith,” he said. “It’s so
sort of old-fashioned and nice.”
“It’s quite an old house,” said Faith embarrassedly. “Father’s
grandfather built it almost a hundred years ago. There wasn’t much of
anything on the Neck in those days, they say, except the lighthouse. Do
you live around here?”
“No, my home’s in Pennsylvania. I wish I did live around here, though,
for I’m crazy about the water and boating and fishing and――”
“And being shipwrecked?” suggested Faith with a laugh.
“N――no,” Bee acknowledged, echoing her laughter, “I guess I can do
without that for awhile. I was in a blue funk out there. And――and I’d
have been seasick in about another minute, I guess.”
“You were both very foolish to go out in a boat you didn’t understand,”
said Faith gravely. “Besides, I never think a motor boat is really
safe, anyway, do you?”
“I don’t know. I never was in one until this morning.”
“Why――but I thought you said――you understood them!”
“Oh,” responded Bee carelessly, “I had to say that to get Hal to go
out. He wanted to wait and find someone to show him how to run the
thing. We’d have lost a lot of valuable time, you see.”
“Oh! You mean that――you aren’t going to be here long and you didn’t
want to waste a day?”
“Oh, I shall be around here for a month, probably. My folks have gone
abroad and Hal’s going to put me up for as long as I want. I had a
chance of going across with the folks, but Hal talked so much about
Greenhaven all winter that I thought I’d rather come here. And I’m glad
I did, too. I’m going to have a dandy time. Hal’s people are as nice as
pie to me. I suppose you know them, Miss Faith?”
“N――no, I don’t. You see――” She paused and Bee waited politely for her
to continue. “What I mean,” she went on at last, “is that the Folsoms
are very rich people and we’re――we’re not. So, of course, we don’t know
them very well.”
“Oh!” Bee considered that a moment. “Well, I like them very much. Hal’s
a dandy, too. I didn’t care much for him at first, though. They put us
to room together at school and we had a scrap the first night. Then we
didn’t speak for two or three days. Then we had another scrap and Hal
licked me and after that we were pretty good chums.”
Faith looked puzzled, but she only said, “Oh!” in a doubtful tone, and
Bee went on:
“I suppose you and your brother go to school here?” he inquired. “Hal
showed me the high school this morning when we came down to the wharf.”
“I go,” replied Faith, “but Jack had to give it up this year. Poor
Jack! He hated to do it.”
“Er――you don’t mean――he wasn’t expelled, was he?”
“Jack? Oh, no indeed. But father died a little over a year ago and so
Jack thought he ought to go on with father’s business and make money.
Father used to be a fisherman and owned his own schooner. Then, when I
was about five, he had an accident. He fell and broke one of his legs
when he was ’way up off Newfoundland and it wasn’t set right for two
weeks because the schooner was in the ice and there wasn’t any doctor
around. And then when they finally got him to a doctor it was too late
and his leg was never much good afterwards. So he sold his schooner
and bought the _Crystal Spring_ and made her into a water boat. You
see there’s always been a spring up on the hill just back of our house
and father only had to run a line of pipe to the Cove and then fill up
the tank and sail around to the harbor and sell the water. He used to
sell lots and lots of water a few years ago, but now the fish companies
generally supply the water for their boats themselves. And lately two
Portuguese men have started a water boat, too, and as their boat has
a gasoline engine poor Jack isn’t doing very well. He said the other
day he guessed he’d either have to have an engine put in the _Crystal
Spring_ or go out of business.” And Faith, a little breathless and
more than a little surprised at her unusual loquacity, came to an
embarrassed pause.
“That’s too bad,” said Bee sympathetically. “I wouldn’t think there’d
be enough business for two water boats here. If I were he I’d certainly
put in an engine and see that it was big enough to beat the other
fellows!”
“He wants to, but――I guess it costs a good deal,” replied Faith.
“What costs a good deal, sis?” asked Jack as he and Hal returned to the
sitting-room.
“An engine for the _Crystal Spring_,” explained his sister.
“Oh! Yes, it would cost a lot more than I could afford, I guess,” he
said gloomily. “But I’ll either have to have one put in or give up.
Those Lamprons can beat me every time. Isn’t supper ready yet? I’m
starved to death!”
When, a few minutes later, Aunt Mercy summoned them to the little
dining room, that supper proved worth waiting for. The visitors
declared that they had never been so hungry and had never tasted things
half so good, and Aunt Mercy was so pleased that she was positively
wasteful with the barberry preserve!
“May I leave the launch here until I can get someone to come over and
fix her up?” asked Hal.
“Yes,” Jack answered, “I’ll look after her. She’ll be all right. If I
can find time in the morning I’ll get the water out of her. For that
matter, maybe I can fix her up for you myself. I know a little about
gas engines. I’ll have a look at her if you want me to.”
“I wish you would,” replied Hal gratefully.
“I’ll come over and help you,” said Bee.
“You’ll stay away from her!” exclaimed his chum with energy. “If it
hadn’t been for you she’d have been all right.”
“Hear him!” Bee scoffed, appealing to Aunt Mercy. “Why, that silly
chug-chug didn’t know the first thing about going until I worked and
toiled over her! Of all ungrateful brutes, Hal, you’re the――the limit!”
“I’d have learned how to run her myself,” said Hal amidst the laughter
of the rest, “if you hadn’t been so keen on starting out. I wanted to
have someone show me about the thing, Jack, but this idiot couldn’t
wait. Say, what do you think he wants to do?”
Jack shook his head. “Drown himself, I guess.”
“He wants to go out to Hog Island and hunt for buried treasure!”
Jack laughed, and even Aunt Mercy smiled at the idea, but Faith came to
Bee’s defence. “I think that would be lovely,” she approved. “I read a
book once――”
“There isn’t anything on Hog Island, I guess,” said Jack, “but rocks
and seagulls. You’d better try somewhere else, Mansfield.”
Bee shrugged his shoulders, undisturbed. “I’m not particular about
where it is, Herrick. But I certainly don’t intend to spend a month
on the coast and not have one good hunt for buried treasure. I’ve
always wanted to hunt for buried treasure and now’s the time. I dare
say there’s plenty of it around here. There always is. Captain Kidd
probably left a few chests of gold and diamonds somewhere about. He was
awfully careless, Kidd was, with his treasure. Why, everyone knows that
he buried chests of gold all up and down the Atlantic coast!”
“I’ll bet he didn’t bury any on Hog Island,” Jack laughed. “You can’t
dig six inches anywhere there without striking solid ledge. I’ve been
out there three or four times.”
“Then we won’t go to Hog Island, Hal,” said Bee calmly. “I merely
suggested that particular place because it was the first island I saw.
We’ll find another one. How about the thing you call The Lump?”
“Just a ledge sticking out of the water,” said Jack. “If you really
want to hunt for buried treasure, though, Mansfield, you might have a
go at Nobody’s Island.” He smiled across at Hal. “’Most everyone has
around here!”