AT THE INLET
It was not the thin, meek-looking woman who uttered these words of
welcome. The tones were so thunderous that both the lads were startled,
and they did not see the speaker, until they stepped across the
threshold. He was an old man, one who must have been near eighty, who
was sitting near the front window, smoking a corncob pipe. His face was
weazened and wrinkled, his white hair thin and his shoulders stooping,
but his little eyes twinkled kindly and he wore no glasses. He was in
his shirt sleeves and his waistcoat hung loosely and unbuttoned down the
front. His clean, coarse white shirt showed no necktie, but there was a
pleasing neatness about his trousers and thick shoes.
Alvin and Chester removed their caps and saluted the couple. The woman
had not spoken and for a long time kept silent.
"Take a cheer! take a cheer!" added the old man, holding his pipe in
one hand while he waved the other toward seats; "take a couple if you
like."
The wonder about the old fellow was his voice. Never had the callers
heard so deep and resounding a bass. It was literally like thunder. Each
asked himself what it was a half century before.
There was no mistaking his hospitality. Probably in his loneliness he
welcomed any callers, no matter who they might be. He smiled upon the
youths, who noticed that there was not a tooth visible.
"Bless my heart! It does my old eyes good to look upon two such handsome
chaps as you! Your faces be clean, your eyes bright, you wear purty good
clothes and I don't b'lieve you use terbacker."
"No," said Alvin; "we haven't begun yet."
"My! my! you don't know what you've missed, but there's time 'nough;
wait till you're as old as me afore you start. How old do you think I
am?"
The pleased lads scanned the wrinkled countenance as if trying to make
up their minds. It was Chester who answered for both:
"You must be past sixty-five--pretty close to seventy."
The remark was diplomatic, for both knew he was a good deal older. The
man threw back his head and shook with mirth.
"Do you hear that, Peggy? They think I'm purty close to seventy! That's
the best joke I've heerd since I was a boy. He! he! Why, young man," he
added, abruptly checking his laughter, "I'll be eighty-three come next
Christmas. I was a Christmas gift to my father and mother."
"You don't mean it!" replied Alvin, with a shake of his head.
The wife paused in crossing the floor and laughed, but without the least
sound.
"I don't mean it, eh? Ask Peggy."
The youths looked inquiringly and she nodded several times in
confirmation, but remained mute.
"We can't doubt _her_," said Chester. "You are surely a wonder, Mr.----"
"Folks don't call me mister; I'm Uncle Ben--Ben Trotwood. Who might you
be?"
There was no need of evasion, and Alvin briefly told all the important
facts. Having given their names, he related how their motor boat had
been stolen while they were taking lunch that day in the woods near the
blockhouse. It was not worth while to mention Mike Murphy.
"Consarn such scamps!" exclaimed Uncle Ben. "They oughter be made to
smart. But when Peggy opened the door I think you said something 'bout
devouring food."
"We are hungry."
"Wal," said the old man, rising briskly from his chair in answer to a
nod from his wife, "supper's ready and we'll all set by. If you want to
please us you won't leave a crumb on the table."
"Then we'll be sure to please you."
It was a most enjoyable meal of which our young friends partook, after
Uncle Ben had said grace as was his invariable custom. The food was
plain but excellently cooked and there was an abundance. The host was as
spry as a man of half his years, and presided, his wife pouring out tea
which never tasted better to Alvin and Chester. Each of the lads, when
no one was watching him, slipped a dollar bill under his plate, where it
was not likely to be seen until after they had gone.
The kindliness of the old man as well as that of the mute wife made the
guests feel at home. Toward the close of the meal Chester said:
"Uncle Ben, you've got the most wonderful voice I ever heard."
Plainly the old man was pleased.
"It ain't a sarcumstance to what it was when I was younger. They asked
me to sing bass in the church at Trevett, but I nearly busted
proceedings. The folks said that when I let out my voice, they couldn't
hear anybody else in the choir."
"It is easy to believe that."
"Then," added Uncle Ben whimsically, "they made me pay for several panes
of glass that they insisted my voice had broke. I stood that, till one
Sunday, a boy begun yelling that he was afeard of that big black bear in
the gallery and he like to have went into fits ontil I put on the
brakes. Then I quit, plumb disgusted."
"Don't you find it rather lonely here?"
"Sometimes when the children wait too long to visit us."
"How many children have you?"
"Seven boys and six girls. We lost three afore they growed up."
"You are rich indeed," said Chester admiringly.
And then the wife spoke for the first time:
"We ought to be thankful and _we are_!"
It came out that all the sons and daughters were well married and lived
within a radius of little more than fifty miles. Each family had often
urged the old couple to make their home with it, but they preferred to
live by themselves. There was no danger of their suffering for anything
that affection could provide.
Alvin and Chester would have been glad to stay over night, as they were
urged to do, but they decided to push on and learn what they could with
the least possible delay. While daylight would have been more favorable,
in many respects, for their task, they feared that the thieves would
make off with the _Deerfoot_ before daylight. The intrusion of the man
in gray added a zest to the search that had something to do with their
haste.
Since Uncle Ben rarely went beyond sight of his humble home, he could
tell them nothing of the launch. He admitted that most of the time when
he sat by the front window smoking, he dozed or was fully asleep. He had
seen no one pass the house during the afternoon except the boy, Henry
Perkins. The man in gray might have gone by, but Uncle Ben knew nothing
of it.
Promising to call if they ever came into the neighborhood again, the
youths bade the old couple good night. They hurried, for the wife had
begun clearing away the things from the table, and was sure to discover
the tip that each had left. They chuckled because they got clear of the
home without such mishap.
It will be remembered that night had descended some time before, and the
clouded sky veiled the moon. The path of which Uncle Ben told them was
well defined, but in the dense gloom it was hard to keep it. Alvin,
taking the lead, spread out his arms and swept them in front of his face
to prevent collisions with projecting limbs. Once or twice he strayed to
one side, but with the help of Chester regained the trail and they
pushed on in good spirits, glad that they had not far to go. The
temperature was so mild that they felt no discomfort from the lack of
extra clothing.
As they drew near the inlet their caution increased. Alvin in front
stepped as softly as an Indian scout entering the camp of an enemy.
Chester was equally careful and for some time neither spoke. With the
deep gloom inclosing them on every hand, they were mutually invisible.
Suddenly Chester bumped lightly into his companion.
"What's the matter?" he asked in a whisper.
"I'm out of the path again."
"I don't see that that makes any difference; we must be close to the
bay. Push on!"
They felt their way in silence for a few minutes and then stopped once
more. Not the slightest sound was given out by the water that was
somewhere near them. Alvin hesitated, as he was afraid of a mis-step.
At this juncture, when the two stood motionless and uncertain, nature,
singularly enough, came to their relief. The laboring moon for a few
seconds shone partly through the heavy clouds that were drifting before
its face, and the dim illumination revealed that two paces farther would
have taken them into the inlet. Scarcely was this discovery made when
blank night again shut them in.
"Well, here we are," said Alvin; "and what comes next?"
After all that had been said and done, it dawned upon both at this
moment that their whole venture was foolish to the last degree. Suppose
they located the _Deerfoot_, they would be powerless to do anything
more. Two unarmed youths could not retake it from the thieves, and they
might grope around the place for the whole night without learning the
truth. If they had been able to reach the spot before night, or, failing
in that, had waited till the morrow, their eyes would have quickly told
them all they wished to know.
Standing side by side nonplussed for the moment, Alvin sniffed several
times.
"Do you notice it?" he asked in a guarded undertone.
"Notice what?"
"I smell a cigar; somebody is near us."
Chester tested his smelling apparatus and replied:
"You are right; the odor is in the air."
"It reminds me of the kind the governor smokes; and is therefore a
mighty good one."
"It is the man in gray; he smoked nearly all the time on the boat."