THE MISER OF THE ISLAND
Meg's conjecture was correct. It was Mr. Max Pooler who was the sole
occupant of the rowboat that was fast approaching the island.
He pulled a quick stroke, and two minutes brought him to the shore,
where, beaching his craft, he jumped out, and walked rapidly toward the
cottage.
He was a thin, sallow-complexioned man, with a low forehead and sunken
gray eyes. The expression upon his face, especially around his mouth,
was a pinched and hard one.
He viewed Jack and Mont in surprise, not unmixed with disapproval, and
turned to the girl for an explanation.
"How is this, Meg?" he asked, in a shrill, disagreeable tone of voice.
"Whom have you here?"
"Two young men that drifted over the falls," replied the girl, who was
somewhat startled by his sudden coming. "I found 'em down by the
spring, all tuckered out."
"Over the falls!" Max Pooler's face showed his incredulity. "Never
heard of it afore! When did it happen?"
"We can't tell exactly," replied Jack. "We became unconscious, and came
to about an hour or so ago."
"Humph!" The master of the island glanced at the table, where a good
portion of the food still remained. "Pretty good dinner you're givin'
'em, Meg," he continued.
The girl was silent. She evidently did not like Max Pooler's remark,
and stood biting her finger nails in vexation.
"We are willing to pay for what we've had," broke in Mont. "We were so
hungry that we couldn't wait till we got back to town, and so persuaded
this--this young lady to provide something for us."
Max Pooler looked relieved.
"Ah, that's all right then," he said, rubbing his hands together in
satisfaction. "Pay for what you get and owe no man, has always been my
motto, and I find it a very excellent one, too. Tell me something of
your adventures. And, by the way, is there anything else you wish?"
"No, I'm done," replied the young machinist.
He was thoroughly disgusted with the man's mean manner, though he did
not object to paying for what they had had.
But Mont entered readily into conversation. He had eyed Max Pooler
keenly from his arrival, and noticed every action of the man. He
briefly related the particulars of what had happened on the river. For
obvious reasons he did not mention how either Jack or he had fallen into
such a position, nor did he mention any names.
"Awful! terrible! truly remarkable!" were Max Pooler's comments. "But
did you see 'em?" he continued, in a tragic whisper.
"See whom?" asked Jack, who was somewhat taken back by this sudden
change in the man's manner.
"Why, the ghost in the falls," replied Max Pooler, earnestly, "It is the
spirit of a man who went over one night."
Jack laughed.
"We did not see it," he replied. "Besides, I don't believe in them."
"Oh, but this is a ghost sure, I've seen him myself many a time in the
moonlight."
"Maybe you saw the man go over, and imagined the rest," suggested Mont.
"Did you know him?"
"Oh, no!" replied Max Pooler, starting. "No, indeed, I only heard it
was so. But the ghost is there. Sometimes it comes on the island!"
"The man must be a little off on this subject," thought Jack, as he
watched Max Pooler's manner.
"I guess there is too much water here to allow of any spirits," said
Mont, by way of a joke.
"Never mind, I know what I know," replied Max Pooler, with a shake of
his head. "You were mighty lucky to get through safely."
"I'll admit that," returned Jack, rising from the table.
Mont also arose, and looked first at the man and then at the girl.
"If you tell me what we owe you, I'll pay it," he said.
Meg was silent. Had she had her own way she would have charged nothing.
"Everything considered, I guess it's worth a quarter apiece," said Max
Pooler. "Provisions are frightfully high."
"I'm well satisfied," replied Mont; and taking out his purse, he
withdrew a half dollar, and handed it over. "I am very much obliged to
you," he added to Meg.
Max Pooler's eyes sparkled as they rested upon the shining silver. He
grasped the coin eagerly, and after examining it, stowed it carefully
away in his bosom.
There was a pause. Now that he had their money, the owner of the island
was evidently anxious to have them take their departure. Both Jack and
Mont wished to see more of this old man, but neither could frame a
plausible excuse for remaining.
"I suppose your friends will be anxious 'bout you," remarked Max Pooler,
by way of helping them off.
Jack's thoughts instantly reverted to Deb, and he said no doubt they
would.
"But we have no boat," he added, suddenly. "Can you lend us one?"
"Only got the one I use," replied the old man, shortly.
"I can take 'em over," put in Meg, eagerly. "'T won't take long."
"We will pay you for the use of the boat," added Jack.
The mention of pay immediately altered the matter in Max Pooler's eyes.
"I'll do it for another quarter," he said. "Times are hard and one must
make his living."
Jack made no reply. The closeness of the man disgusted him, and he paid
the amount without a word.
Meg led the way toward the beach. Their backs were scarcely turned
before Max Pooler disappeared in the cottage.
"The mean miser," burst out the girl, when they were beyond hearing,
"He's itchin' to put that seventy-five cents along with the rest of his
money! Hope you don't blame me for what he's done. Wouldn't have cost
you a cent if I'd have had my way!"
"We were very thankful to get something," said Mont, "and were perfectly
willing to pay for it, too."
Jack was silent. He half wished that Meg, interesting as she was, was
not present. He wished to talk with his friend over the odd news that
the last half hour had brought them. He was half inclined to question
the young girl further, but did not wish to excite her suspicion, and
was diplomatic enough not to get at it excepting in the direct way.
Of one thing he was certain; there was a good deal below the surface
that did not yet show, and he determined that he would not drop the
matter until he had learned what it was.
"Did you ever hear of a wrecked yacht around here?" suddenly asked Mont
of Meg.
"Nope--that is," she hesitated. "What makes you ask that?"
"Oh, I only wanted to know," replied the young man, apparently
unconcerned.
"Pooler said I was never to speak of it," returned Meg. "He thinks I
don't know where it is, but I do."
"Show it to us, will you?" asked Mont, eagerly.
Meg shrank back.
"It's haunted!" she exclaimed. "Besides, Pooler would kill me if he
found it out."
"We'll never tell him, will we, Jack?"
"Certainly not," replied the young machinist, to whom this new move was
only another mystery.
"Besides, we intend to be your friends, you know," continued Mont.
"Well, then, come on," replied Meg, finally. "I don't care if he likes
it or not. 'Taint a very nice place though."
"Never mind. We can't find any worse or more dangerous places than we
have already gone through."
Meg picked her way along one bank of the island for nearly a quarter of
a mile. Jack and Mont followed closely.
The ground was covered with a rank growth of reeds and rushes, and in
many places was damp and slippery.
At last they reached a deep cave that ran directly between a cluster of
twisted and bending willows. The spot was at the upper end of the
island, and in full view of the falls.
Here, half hidden by the tall, undergrowth, rested the hull of a
dismantled yacht, bearing upon her weather-beaten stern the
half-obliterated name:
"KITTY."