CHAPTER III

MIKE MURPHY

Holding the tiny flicker of flame in the hollow of the hat, Alvin saw in

fancy gilt letters, pasted on the silk lining, the following:

"NOXON O"

"That's a queer name," he reflected. "I never heard anything like it."

"Do ye know ye're holding the same upside down?"

The Irish lad, panting from his exertion in running, stood grinning at

Alvin's elbow. "'Spose ye turns the hat round so as to revarse the

same."

Alvin did so and then read "O NOXON."

"It's the oddest name I ever saw, for 'NOXON' reads the same upside down

and backwards--Ugh!"

Seized with a sudden loathing, he sent the hat skimming a dozen feet

away. His feeling was as if he had grasped a serpent. Then he turned

and impulsively offered his hand to the Irish lad.

"Shake! You were a friend in need."

"It's mesilf that's under deep obligations to yersilf."

"How do you make that out?"

"Didn't ye give me the finest chance for a shindy that I've had since I

lift Tipperary? I haven't had so much fun since Pat Geoghaghan almost

whaled the life out of me at home."

"Who are you?"

"Mike Murphy, at your sarvice."

And the grinning lad lifted his straw hat and bowed with the grace of a

crusader.

"Where do you live?"

"Up the road a wee bit, wid me father and mither."

"Are you the son of Pat Murphy?" asked the astonished Alvin.

"He has the honor, according to his own story, of being me dad."

"Why, he's father's caretaker. I remember he told me some time ago that

he had a boy seventeen years old that he had sent word to in Ireland to

come over and join him. And you are he! Why, I'm so glad I should like

to shake hands with you again."

"I'm nothing loath, but I say that hat ye threw away is more of the

fashion in this part of the wurruld than in Tipperary, and if ye have no

objections I'll make a trade."

And the Irish lad walked to where the headgear lay, picked it up and

pulled it on his crown.

"It's a parfect fit--as the tramp said when he bounced around the kind

leddy's yard--don't I look swaat in the same?"

Alvin could not help laughing outright, for the hat was at least a size

too small for the proud new owner, and perched on his crown made his

appearance more comical than it had been formed by nature.

"I knew ye would be plased, as me uncle said when the docther towld him

he would be able to handle his shillaleh inside of a waak and meet his

engagement with Dennis O'Shaugnessey at Donnybrook fair. Me dad tached

me always to be honest."

To prove which Mike laid down his battered straw hat beside the road,

where the seeker of the better headgear would have no trouble in

finding it. "And if it's all the same, Alvin, we'll adjourn to our home,

for I'm so hungry I could ate me own grandmither."

"How did you know my name?" asked the surprised Alvin.

"Arrah, now, hasn't me dad and mither been writing me since they moved

into this part of the wurruld and spaking of yersilf? It was yer telling

me that me dad was your dad's caretaker that towld the rist. Ef I had

known it was yersilf I would have hit that spalpeen harder."

"You did well as it was. But I say, Mike, when did you arrive in Maine?"

"Only three days since. Having had directions from me dad, as soon as I

got ashore in New York I made fur the railway station, where I wint to

slaap in the cars and woke up in Portland. Thar I had time to ate

breakfast and ride in the train to Bath, where I meant to board the

steamboat _Gardiner_. I had half a minute to sprint down the hill to the

wharf, but the time was up before I got there and the men pulled in the

plank when I was twinty faat away. I'm told the Captain niver tarries

ten seconds for anybody."

"That's true," replied Alvin, "for I have seen him steam away when by

waiting half a minute he would have gained five or six passengers."

"So I had to tarry for the other steamer, which lift me off at

Southport, and I walked the rist of the way to the home of me parents. I

mind dad towld me the same was four or five miles, but I think it was

six hundred full. I found me parents yesterday."

"I remember now that your father said he expected you about this time,

but it had slipped my mind, and having been away all day I had no chance

to learn of your coming. But I can tell you, Mike, I'm mighty glad to

know you."

"The same to yersilf," was the hearty response of the Irish lad. In

fact, considering the circumstances in which the two met, to say nothing

of their congenial dispositions, nothing was more natural than that they

should form a strong liking for each other. They walked side by side,

sometimes in the dusty road or over the well-marked path on the right or

left, and talking of everything that came into their minds.

"How was it you happened to be passing over this road to-night when I

found myself in so great need of you?" asked Alvin.

"Me dad sint me this noon down to Cape Newagen to inquire for some

letters he didn't ixpect, and then to keep on to Squirrel Island and buy

him a pound of 'bacca and to be sure to walk all the way and be back in

time for supper, which I much fear me I sha'n't be able to do."

"How did you make out?" asked the amused Alvin.

"As well as might be ixpected," gravely replied Mike, "being there ain't

any store at Cape Newagen and I should have to walk under water for near

two miles or swim to Squirrel Island, barring the fact that I can't swim

a stroke to save me life."

"What did your father mean by sending you on such a fool errand?"

Mike chuckled.

"It was a joke on me. I've tried to break him of the habit, but he can't

help indulging in the same whin he gits the chance. He was so glad to

have me wid him that he found an excuse for whaling me afore last night

and then played this trick on me."

"Didn't your mother tell you better?"

"Arrah, but she's worse nor him; she said I would enj'y the walk and I

may say I did though I couldn't extind the same as far as they had

planned for me. Can you suggist something I kin do, Alvin, by the which

I can git aven wid the owld folks fur the fun they've had wid me?"

"I am not able to think of anything just now."

"Ah, I have it!" broke in the Irish youth, snapping his fingers. "It has

been the rule all me life that whin I got into a fight I must report the

whole sarcumstances of the same to dad. If I licked the other chap, it

was all right and he or mither give me an extra pratie at dinner, but if

I was bested, then dad made himself tired using his strap over me back

and legs. He's in high favor of me exercising my fists on others, but

never will agraa that I don't do a hanus wrong when I git licked. 'It's

such a bad habit,' he explains, that it's his dooty to whale it out of

me."

"What has your fight to-night to do with playing a joke on him?"

"Why, don't you see that I'll make him think fur a time that it was

mesilf that was knocked skyhigh, and after he's lambasted me till he

can't do so any more, and I kin hardly stand, you and me will tell him

the truth."

"Where will be the joke in that? It seems to me it will be wholly on

you."

"Don't ye observe that he and mither will feel so bad whin they find how

they have aboosed me that they'll give me two praties instid of one and

then I'll have the laugh on them."

"It takes an Irishman or Irish boy to think up such a joke as that," was

the comment of Alvin, as the two just then came in sight of the small

log structure in which Pat Murphy and his wife made their home, while a

light twinkled beyond from the windows of the larger building, where

Alvin lived with his parents during the summer. A half mile to the south

toward Cape Newagen was the more moderate dwelling, during the sultry

season, of Chester Haynes, his chum from whom he had parted an hour or

two previous to making the acquaintance of Mike Murphy. As they drew

near the structure, Mike stepped in front and opened the door, with

Alvin at his heels. Within, sat the father calmly smoking his pipe,

while his tall, muscular but pleasant-faced wife by the table in the

middle of the room with spectacles on her nose was busily sewing. The

light was acetylene, furnished from the same source that supplied the

large bungalow only a few paces distant.

"Good evening, Pat, and the top of the evening to you, Mrs. Murphy. You

see I have brought Mike safely home to you."

Alvin was a favorite with the couple, who warmly greeted him. The boy

was fond of calling at the humble dwelling and chatting with the two.

Sometimes he took a meal with them, insisting that the food was much

better than was provided by the professional chef in his own home. No

surer means of reaching the heart of the honest woman could have been

thought of, and though she insisted that the lad had kissed the blarney

stone, she was none the less pleased by his kind words.

"Mither, I'm that near starved," said Mike, dropping into the nearest

chair, "that I should perish if I had a dozen more paces to walk."

"Yer supper has been waiting for more than an hour, and if ye'll pass

into the kitchen ye may eat your fill."

Mike took a step in the direction, but was halted by his father.

"Where is the 'bacca I ordered ye to bring from Squirrel Island?"

"They're out of the kind ye smoke, dad, and that which the storekeeper

showed me was that poor I wouldn't have anything to do wid the same."

"And the litters at Cape Newagen?"

"They're expicting the one from King George that ye were looking fur,

but it won't be in until the next steamer."

The Launch Boys' Cruise in the Deerfoot · 第 3 / 31 章