THE "EB AN' FLO"
Just how it happened Samuel Tobin, owner and captain of the "Eb and
Flo," was never able to explain with any degree of clearness. He knew
that he was on his knees, scrubbing the floor of the little cabin and
humming
"Here I'll raise my Ebenezer,
Hither by Thy grace I'll come,"
when a form darkened the narrow doorway overhead.
Then followed a scream of fright, and before he had hardly time to look
around she was lying by his side, a confused heap of silk, lace, and
flowing dark-brown hair.
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" Samuel exclaimed, scrambling to his feet.
"What in time----?"
A merry laugh interrupted him, as the girl sprang lightly to her feet,
arranged her disordered dress, and brushed back her hair.
"My! that was a surprise," she remarked, glancing at the steps down
which she had just tumbled. "I didn't know they were there."
"Ye didn't, eh?" and Samuel looked curiously at his unexpected visitor.
"Thought ye was walkin' into a parlour, I s'pose."
"Do you own this boat?" the girl suddenly and somewhat anxiously asked.
"Well, I thought I did, Miss, until you arrived, but now I ain't quite
sartin. I feel somethin' like Bill Slocum said he did when a bear
dropped in on him one night when he was campin' out on his back medder."
"What did he do?"
"Oh, Bill, jist lit out an' left the bear in charge, the same as any
sensible man would do."
"I hope you do not compare me to a bear," and the girl smiled.
"No, I wouldn't like to do that, Miss. But ye must have had some
mighty good reason fer comin' down them steps the way ye did. It's a
wonder to me yer neck wasn't broken."
"I have a good reason," was the emphatic reply. "I am running away."
"Runnin' away!" Samuel's eyes opened wide in amazement, and he stared
hard at the girl. He would have been less than human if his pulse had
not quickened, and his heart beat faster, for she was truly possessed
of more than ordinary beauty and grace of figure. Her large dark
expressive eyes betrayed anxiety, and her cheeks were flushed. Once
she gave a slight start and glanced nervously up the steps as if
expecting to see someone following her.
"Yes, I am running away," she repeated, "and I want you to hide me on
this boat."
"Runnin' away, an' want me to hide ye!" Samuel ran his fingers through
his hair, a sure sign of his perplexity. "Ye ain't been stealin' or
murderin' anybody, have ye?"
"No, no; it's not so bad as that. But it might be suicide, though, if
you don't help me. And you will, won't you?" she pleaded, turning her
eyes full upon the captain's face.
The latter made no immediate reply. He picked up his pail and set it
carefully aside. He then unrolled the turned-up sleeves of his coarse
shirt, and deliberately buttoned them about his thick hairy wrists,
"Set down, Miss," he at length ordered, motioning to the only chair the
cabin contained. "Thar, that's better," he said as the girl
immediately obeyed. "Sorry me accommodations are so poor, but then
this ain't no ocean liner. She's nuthin' but an old woodboat, an' not
much of a place fer receivin' the likes of you."
"But I think it's fine," the girl replied, "and I know you will let me
stay here for a while. You need a woman to look after this cabin, and
I will wash and cook for you."
"Ye will!"
"Certainly. If you will only let me stay, I think you will find me
quite useful."
"H'm, queer work you'd do in them dandy togs. An' besides, this craft
can't afford to keep up much style. I s'pose ye'd want clean linen on
the table every day, to say nuthin' of napkins, an' sich gear. No, I'm
afraid ye'd prove too expensive fer the 'Eb an' Flo.' I've been cook
here fer so long that I wouldn't know what to do with a woman around.
Martha tried it once, but a week was enough fer her, so she got out.
Said she couldn't stand me housekeepin' methods."
"Who is Martha?" the girl asked.
"Oh, she's me wife, an' runs things ashore. Her an' Flo do all right
thar, but me an' Eb feel more at home on the water, with no women
buttin' in."
"Is Flo your daughter?"
"Sure. An' Eb's me son. Jist the two, so I named this craft after
'em, ye see, Eb an' Flo sounds about right to my way of thinkin'. When
yer boatin' on this river ye have to be allus considerin' the ebb an'
flow of the tide, so the name is quite handy."
"It certainly is," and the girl smiled. "I am sure I shall like it.
Where is your son now?"
"Oh, he's ashore gittin' some molasses an' other stuff from the store.
He should be back soon, Miss, so I think ye'd better leave before he
comes. Thar might be trouble. He's dead set aginst strange women,
Eben is."
"Will you start as soon as your son returns?" the girl asked, unheeding
the captain's warning.
"Start! Start where?"
"Sailing, of course."
"Not until the wind springs up. Thar's a dead calm now, an' the tide's
aginst us."
"Oh, I wish it would blow a gale," and the girl looked anxiously
around. "I want to get away from this place as soon as possible."
"Well, I think the best thing then fer you to do is to go ashore an'
light out. Ye kin do it quicker thar than here."
"But I can't get ashore, Captain."
"Ye can't! An' why not, I'd like to know?"
"Because my boat has gone adrift. I let it go on purpose."
"Good Lord!" Samuel sat down upon a biscuit box and eyed his visitor
curiously. "Say, are you crazy, or a fool, or what are ye, anyway?" he
asked.
"I'm just a poor unfortunate girl, that's who I am," was the decided
reply.
"An' ye ain't done nuthin' bad; nuthin' that yer ashamed of, Miss?"
"No, no," and the girl's face crimsoned. "I'm proud of what I have
done," and she lifted her head haughtily, while her eyes flashed. "Any
girl with the least self-respect would do the same, so there."
"That's all right, Miss, that's all right," Samuel hurriedly assured
her. "I wasn't castin' any reflection upon yer character. I was only
wonderin', that's all. Ye see, Flo's about your age, from what I
judge, an' I wouldn't like her to be actin' this way."
"I know you wouldn't. But my case is different. Oh, I wish I could
tell you all, but I can't. You will trust me, anyway, won't you, and
let me stay here for a while?"
The captain sighed and looked helplessly around.
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" he growled. "This is sartinly some fix an' I
don't know what to do. The accommodation isn't much here fer the likes
of you, though it ain't too bad fer me an' Eb. If you occupy this
cabin, we'll have to camp out on deck, an' I know what Eb'll say about
that. He's more'n fond of sleep, that boy is, the greatest I ever saw.
Why he'd sooner sleep than eat any day, an' he likes a good soft bed at
that. I had to buy a special spring an' mattress before I could git
him to come with me this year. He doesn't take much to boatin', an' I
have to make things as smooth as possible."
"But can't you put his cot on deck?" the girl suggested. "I am very
sorry that I am giving you so much trouble, but I shall pay you well.
Money is no object if you will only help me out of my trouble. I am
sure you will never regret it."
"I hope not, Miss, fer I don't want to git into any fix. It wouldn't
look very nice if the papers got hold of this affair. Jist imagine a
big write-up about Capt. Sam'l Tobin keepin' a fine lookin' runaway gal
on the 'Eb an' Flo.' Why, I'd never be able to hold up me head agin,
an' I guess it 'ud about break Martha's heart, to say nuthin' about
Flo. They're mighty pertic'ler about sich things, they surely are."
"This must never get into the papers," the girl declared, "for you must
promise that you will keep it a dead secret, and not tell anyone, not
even your own family."
"I don't see how I kin do that, Miss. I guess ye don't know Martha as
well as I do. If ye did, ye wouldn't talk about keepin' this racket a
secret from me family. An' besides, thar's Eben, who'll be here in a
jiffy now. How am I to explain matters to him? No, Miss, I reckon
ye'd better light out while the coast is clear. I'll git the boy to
take ye ashore, an' tell him that ye hit the wrong craft."
But the girl was not to be baffled in her purpose. She rose to her
feet and stood before the captain. Her eyes were wide with a nameless
fear, and her face showed very white where the light of the
bracket-lamp fell upon it.
"Don't, don't send me away," she pleaded. "Let me stay here until you
go from this place. Then you can put me ashore in the woods, or throw
me overboard, I don't care which, but for the love of heaven let me
stay now!"
Captain Samuel's big right hand dove suddenly into his pocket and
clawed forth a clay pipe, a plug of tobacco, and a large jack-knife.
He examined them carefully for a few seconds, the girl all the time
watching him most intently.
"You will let me stay, won't you?" she coaxed. "Don't send me away."
"I don't see how I kin, Miss. Yer here, an' that's all thar is about
it. Ye won't go of yer own accord, an' I've never yit laid hands on a
woman. Now, if you was a man I'd show ye a thing or two in a jiffy,
but what kin one do with a woman when she once makes up her mind?"
"Oh, thank you so much," and the girl's face brightened. "You will
never regret your kindness to me. And look, I'm going to pay you well
for letting me stay."
"Pay!" The captain's eyes bulged with astonishment.
"Yes, pay," and the girl smiled. "I'm a passenger, you see, so I'm
going to pay my fare. There, you must not object, for I have made up
my mind, so it's no use for you to say a word. I'm going to give you
fifty dollars now and more later."
The pipe fell from the captain's hand and broke in two upon the floor.
"Blame it all!" he growled, as he stood staring upon the wreck. "I
wonder what's comin' over me, anyway? Guess I'm losin' me senses."
"No you're not; you are just getting them, Captain. It's better to
break a pipe than a girl's heart, isn't it?"
"I s'pose so, Miss. But a pipe means a good smoke, while a woman
means----"
He paused, and looked helplessly around.
"What?" The girl's eyes twinkled.
"Trouble; that's what."
"But isn't she worth it?"
"That all depends upon what an' who she is."
"Certainly. Now you are talking sense. Isn't your daughter worth all
the trouble she has been to you?"
"Sure, sure; yer sartinly right thar, Miss. Flo's given me a heap of
trouble, but not half as much as Eben. That boy's a caution, an' he's
given me an' Martha no end of worry."
"In what way?"
The captain scratched his head in perplexity, and shifted uneasily from
one foot to another.
"I kin hardly explain," he at length replied. "He don't drink, nor
swear, nor do nuthin' bad. But the trouble is, he don't do nuthin',
an' don't want to do nuthin' but sleep an' eat."
"Perhaps you have not brought him up right, Captain."
"Not brought him up right!" Samuel's amazement was intense. "Why,
Miss, we've done nuthin' but bring that boy up. Me an' Martha have
slaved fer the raisin' of Eben. We started when he was a baby to raise
him, right, an' the very next Sunday after he was born didn't they sing
in church--
"'Here I'll raise my Ebenezer'."
"And so you've been singing it ever since, even when scrubbing the
cabin?" The girl smiled at the recollection of the suddenly
discontinued tune.
"Sure, why shouldn't I? It's a great hymn, it sartinly is, an' it's
inspired me many a time. It has kept before me my duty, an' if Eben
doesn't amount to somethin', it won't be my fault, nor Martha's,
either, fer that matter."
"Have you taken the same care with your daughter?" the girl asked.
"No, not as much," was the reluctant confession. "Gals don't need sich
special care. They ginerally grow up all right, an' git along somehow.
But it's different with boys. They're a problem, they sartinly are."
"And so you have given most of your attention to your son, and let your
daughter grow up any way. Is that it, Captain?"
"That's about it, Miss."
"And how is your daughter getting along?"
"Fust rate. We've no trouble with her. She's a good worker, happy an'
cheerful as a bird, an' does what she's told. She's a fine gal, Flo
is, an' thar's no mistake about that. I wish to goodness Eben was like
her."
"It seems to me, Captain, that you tried too hard to raise your son,
and spoiled him. Isn't that it?"
"D'ye think so?"
"I am sure of it. You are not the only ones who have spent all their
care upon their sons and let their daughters grow up as they please. I
know too much about it."
"Ye do!" Samuel's eyes opened wide in wonder. "An' you only a young
gal, too."
"But I am old in experience, and know what I say is true. But what is
that?" A startled look leaped into her eyes. "Do you suppose it is
someone after me?"
With a bound the captain sprang up the stairs. He paused for an
instant, however, and glanced back.
"Don't be scared, Miss," he encouraged. "It's only Eben. He's bumped
hard aginst the boat. You keep close under cover, an' I'll do what I
kin with the boy."