COUSIN OLY'S ACCIDENT
Carolyn May had no intention of eavesdropping. She was not that sort
of little girl. If she listened on occasion to what her elders were
saying, she had perfect confidence in her right to do so; for Mamma
and Papa Cameron never indulged in those regrettable half-speeches and
hints which so often serve to impress little folk with the very things
that they are expected not to hear.
If Carolyn's mother and father had anything private to discuss, they
discussed it privately.
In addition, if Carolyn May chanced to report what she might hear, it
was done in no spirit of tale bearing. Even in the matter of telling
her friend that she had seen his motor-car at the Corners, Carolyn had
been perfectly innocent of guile.
Here was the man she so disliked--not to say feared--and the chauffeur,
again. She kept Prince quiet. After his long run behind the pony the
dog was quite willing to go to sleep in the sand. Carolyn was tempted
to go back by the path to the road, and so follow Barzilla Ball and
Beppo around to the shore where the pound fishermen brought in the fish
from the nets.
The two men below her were talking. René said:
"But I get nothing, Boss! I only run the risk of giving M'sieu offence
and losing my job."
"Get nothing?" ejaculated the dark man in evident anger. "I saw Calvin
Cummings hand you a hundred dollars in crisp twenties when he and his
friends left us at Sunrise Cove. What do you mean--get nothing?"
"Ha! A hundred dol'?" cried the French Canadian excitedly. "And what
is that compare' with what you make in that deal of the paper-pulp
mills, Boss? Think you I do not understand what you are about? Ha! Cal
Cummings and his crowd let you in on it on the ground floor, eh? You
make the big money while me, René Miett, have to satisfy myself with
the tip--is it not?"
He talked so queerly and so excitedly, that the little girl's interest
was held closely and she remained where she was. But of course she did
not understand all that the two were talking about.
[Illustration: _The little girl's interest was closely held._]
"I have to take risks, too--greater than yours, René," the dark man
said, by his tone evidently wearied of the chauffeur's complaints.
"I lose my job, maybe."
"And so may I. Especially if the old man finds out who sold him out to
the Cummings crowd in that matter of the pulp-mills," and the speaker
laughed shortly. "He's in no pleasant mood just now. He is keeping me
here at the hotel muddling over accounts like any junior clerk, while
his secret agents I am sure are going through my office accounts, if
not my private papers. He is suspicious."
"Ah!"
"He trusts nobody--you know that--since--Well, since the time we both
have reason to remember, René."
"Sure. I 'member," growled the other sourly. "Who does not? And there
you won a fortune, while I--"
The dark man sprang up angrily. He used words that showed his wrath but
that made no lasting impression on Carolyn May's innocent mind.
"And you had five hundred that time for merely keeping your mouth
shut," he finished. "Ungrateful dog!"
"While you got ten thousand dollars, eh?" snarled René. "I believe
it! I haf always believe' it. The money came from the bank, and
M'sieu was most particular about it. Then we go a second time for ten
thousand--Oh, yes! I am convince' you got that first ten thousand dol',
Boss. I cannot believe the young one, he take it. No!"
"What if I did?" demanded the other. "Do you think ten thousand dollars
lasts forever?"
"Not when a man lives as you do, Boss. If M'sieu knew--"
"If he knew the truth about that ten thousand dollars we would both
lose our jobs," growled the dark man. "And he hates to lose even ten
cents--let alone ten thousand dollars."
"Who would not shrink from losing that sum? Ah!" groaned René, as they
walked away.
Carolyn May had heard the sum of "ten thousand dollars" repeated
so often that she was not likely to forget it at once, nor the
circumstances under which she had heard it. It was clear in her mind,
too, that in some way her friend who lived at the Orowoc House had lost
the sum of money in question.
She waited until the chauffeur and the saturnine man had walked some
distance away before she ran down to the beach and around the foot of
the hill to the cabin.
The two wooden-legged men were hard at work splitting and salting the
dory load of pollock they had obtained the day before. There was a big
tub of salt water by the cabin door into which the fish were thrown as
fast as Captain Littlefield gutted and split them. Mr. Oly Littlefield
was salting the split fish, fresh from the tub, and stacking them under
the lean-to, in tiers. In a few days the fish would be spread on the
drying racks for more complete curing.
"Here's the leetle gal and the dog," said Captain Littlefield jovially.
"How fare ye?"
"Oh, I am very well, I thank you, Mr. Cap'n Littlefield," she said. "I
hope you are well--and your Cousin Oly?"
"I'm purt' pert," said the other wooden-legged man very graciously for
him. "Thank ye."
Prince went and snuffed at the cockatoo man's wooden leg, and he made
no objection to the dog's familiarity. Carolyn May thought he must be
quite changed from what he used to be! Perhaps his having been buried
in the sand had served a good purpose.
The remainder of the fish were soon split and salted and stacked. The
vicinity was redolent enough of fishy odours; but Carolyn May had
become pretty well used to such smells since she had begun her sojourn
on Block Island.
The cousins dragged the skids of offal down to the outgoing tide and
dumped it into the water. Then they washed out the tubs and cleaned up
about the cabin, making all "shipshape," as Captain Ozias said.
"Sailors make purt' good housekeepers, they tell me," said the captain.
"Of course, Oly don't count. He never was no sailor. Most sailin' he
ever done was goin' out in that _Snatch It_ of Barzilla's. 'Twas Enos
Ball, Barzilla's father, sailed the _Snatch It_ in them days. Oly was
by way of bein' a swordfisher till his accident."
"What accident?" asked Carolyn eagerly. "When he lost his leg?"
"Yep. When he lost one of 'em," returned Captain Littlefield placidly.
"Oh, Mister Cap'n Littlefield! he hasn't got _two_ wooden legs."
"Who said he had? Oh, I see! This here accident wasn't the cause of
Oly wearing that timber-toe of his'n. Nossir!" chuckled the captain.
"'Twarn't no accident that cost Oly his left laig."
"Oh!" murmured Carolyn, in much disappointment. She had thought she
was on the verge of learning just how Cousin Oly, at least, came to be
a cripple. But Captain Littlefield's reminiscence seemed to take him
right away from that subject.
"Ye see, Oly had an accident, and he ain't never been swordfishin'
since." The cockatoo man had stubbed off with a pail to a neighbour's
for milk, while the captain peeled onions and potatoes for the
chowder. "Fact is, he ain't no gre't love for salt water noways. One of
the few Littlefields that ain't got more salt water than blood in their
veins, I do assure ye! Wal, he was lucky to have a leetle prop'ty left
him, Oly was, an' Sue-Betsey that he married had some cash-in-bank. So
he's purt' well fixed.
"Some folks is that way," said the philosophical captain; "while some
is like me--hafter work right along, fair weather or foul. Reckon if
I'd lost both laigs an' my arms inter the bargain, I'd had to work for
my pollock an' p'taters, jest the same."
Captain Littlefield said it cheerfully and went on before Carolyn could
interpose a single question.
"Yep. Oly used to go out in the _Snatch It_. He never was no good in
the pulpit--natcherly--'cause of his wooden laig."
"In the pulpit, Mr. Cap'n Littlefield?" queried Carolyn in surprise.
"Do you mean _preaching_? Like Elder Knox at the Free Baptist Church?"
"My soul and small fish hooks! No!" chuckled the captain. "Pulpit's the
thing Barzilla leans up against when he harpoons a fish."
"Oh! I know," said Carolyn May, nodding. "I've seen Barzilla's boat.
You mean that stalky thing up in front."
"Exactly," agreed Captain Ozias. "Oly's wooden laig wouldn't let him
balance out on the sprit that-a-way. But he can pull a dory as well as
the next man. He'd set himself out with a harpoon an' line and a pair
of oars, and he made his sheer _and_ keep, with Enos Ball.
"Then one time Oly seen a swordfish an' Cap'n Enos seen another from
the crosstrees. Enos headed for his critter; but nothin' would do but
Oly had to slip overboard in his dory an' row t'other way. Ye know how
con-_tra_-ry he is.
"Wal, Oly pulled up close on his fish--an' no denyin' a dory is fur
quieter than a sailin' boat to make the kill from. Swordfishes have got
the sharpest ears.
"Oly stood up, balanced his harpoon, braced his old timber-toe ag'in
the thwart, an' jest before the boat nosed that swordfish's flipper,
Oly made his cast. 'Twas a purty one, an' the harpoon held for fair.
"He dropped back onto the thwart and grabbed his oars. Them swordfishes
is lively critters, leetle gal. They sure be," pursued the captain.
"They don't sulk none when ye strike on. They fling themselves about
like a whale in its death-flurry."
"The poor thing!" murmured Carolyn.
"You better save your sympathy for Oly," chuckled the story-teller.
"Wait till I tell ye. That fish sounded. A swordfish with an iron in
him is a mighty onsartain critter. Oly pulled hard, but he didn't know
where the swordfish was. Jest the same the fish had spotted that dory."
"Oh, Mr. Cap'n Littlefield! what happened to the swordfish?" asked
Carolyn, excitedly.
Captain Littlefield chuckled once more. "Still more worried about
that critter than ye be about Oly, eh? Well, he done purt' well, the
swordfish did. He come right up underneath that dory and drove his
sword smash through her bottom-boards like 'twas a _see_-gar box. Oly
had his feet braced an' was pullin' like all kildee. Up come that sword
an' spears bottom-boards an' Oly's laig, jest like ye'd spear a pickle
on a fork."
"Oh!"
"An' there the sword stuck fast," pursued the captain. "The fish, he
wriggled an' tried to pull out again, shakin' the dory like a dog
playin' with a dishcloth. An' Oly was hung fast to the sword--couldn't
think o' nothin' to do but to hang onto the sides of the dory an' yell
blue murder!"
"Oh, Mr. Cap'n Littlefield! was it his _good_ leg that got stabbed by
the swordfish's sword?"
"No, no! 'Twas his wooden laig, I tell ye. Held the critter's sword
jammed through the thick of the timber. He made such a hullabaloo that
Enos and the crew seen what was up an' they left the critter they was
stalkin' an' made sail for Oly's dory. But there's no knowin' what a
swordfish'll do when he gets to lashin' around permisc'ous like.
"This one Oly had struck onto was a big feller. Oly's got the sword
to home now--two foot, four inches and a ha'f. That's somethin' of a
sword. An' 'twas jammed tight through the bottom of the dory and Oly's
laig.
"'Cast loose, Oly!' yelled Cap'n Enos when the _Snatch It_ comes near.
But Oly was rattled. All he seemed able to do was to grab the oars
again and pull hard's he could.
"An' him pullin' one way and the swordfish jerkin' t'other, somethin'
was bound to give, fin'ly. An' what give fust, was the straps of Oly's
laig."
"Oh, my!" gasped the little girl.
"Yep. He was cast loose for fair. He went over back'ard in the dory,
his good laig and the stump of t'other one _an'_ the oars, kicking up
in the air. The swordfish twitched that dory crosswise of the seas.
'Nother minute an' she was swamped an' Oly Littlefield was overboard."
"Oh, Mr. Cap'n Littlefield!"
"That's right. That's what happened. And the water was mighty wet,
too," chuckled the narrator of the tale. "Ye know how a one-laiged man
swims--without his laig on him? Jest as graceful as a flat-bottomed
scow goin' through a tide-rip.
"And the dory was sinkin' and fair drownin' of that swordfish," he
went on. "While ev'ry time Oly came bobbin' up an' got his head out o'
water, he bawled to Cap'n Enos and the crew to save his oars and the
dory. Nev' mind the swordfish an' him."
"Dear me! And were they drowned after all?" queried the little girl.
"Wal, Oly warn't. And they saved his oars an' most of his gear. But
they had to grapple the dory with a kedge anchor and tore it purt'
near to pieces floatin' it. The swordfish tore himself loose from both
harpoon and his sword, and so got away."
"My, my!" gasped Carolyn May. "Wasn't that exciting?"
"I sh'd say 'twas. 'Twas too much for Oly. He never did go swordfishin'
again after that accident. It cost him a new laig, ye see."
"But--but _that_ wasn't how he came to lose his real leg," observed the
little girl.
"Who? Oly? I sh'd say not," agreed Captain Littlefield. "No, no! He'd
long had a wooden laig when he got mixed up with that swordfish."
"But how _did_ he lose his leg?" cried Carolyn May, with desperation.
"Why, I declare!" exclaimed the captain, but with a twinkle in his eyes
that she did not see. "He never said a word about it to me, for a fac'.
One time I come home from sea on shore leave from the old _Sandusky_,
and here Oly was hoppin' 'round on one laig. I dunno as I ever axed him
what he done with his good laig."