THE CAPTAIN GIVES ADVICE
"I can't really tell ye how it happened, Martha."
The captain was lying on the sofa in the sitting-room, with his injured
foot resting on a pillow. His wife had applied hot cloths to the
ankle, and rubbed it well with liniment.
"You must have tripped on something, Sam'l, as you were running," she
remarked. "It's a wonder you weren't killed. I hope to goodness you
won't get cold. Why, you were soaked to the skin."
"An' I might have been struck with lightnin', Martha. Jist think of
that."
"Indeed you might. Or you might have broken your leg."
"Or cracked me rib," the captain growled. "But I didn't, so what's the
use of worryin' about things that didn't happen. I'm here, with
nuthin' worse than a sprained ankle. You an' Flo had better go to bed.
I'm all right now. I want to stay right by this winder, so's I kin see
the river as soon as it gits light enough. I'm anxious to know whar
the 'Eb an' Flo' is aground. She must be hard on by this time. Wonder
how Eben's makin' out."
"The poor boy must be greatly worried, Sam'l. Maybe he'll come home
before morning."
"Mebbe he will, Martha. I never thought of that. But he'll not worry
about the loss of the boat. Most likely he'll be glad, fer he doesn't
take much to the water. I don't know what we're goin' to do with that
boy."
"But what will you do without the boat, Sam'l? It's our only means of
living, and with that gone we'll starve."
"Oh, I guess we'll pull through somehow. I'll git the boat afloat when
her load's taken off, if she isn't too hard an' fast on them mud flats.
My, it was sartinly some gale last night! I've been boatin' on this
river fer over twenty-five years, an' I never saw anything like it. I
thought mebbe you an' Flo intended to stay at the Hamptons all night.
It was mighty lucky fer me, though, that ye didn't."
"Mrs. Hampton coaxed us to stay, but I wanted to get home. I had a
peculiar feeling that something was the matter."
"An' didn't ye have a more peculiar feelin', Martha, when ye heard me
yell? I imagined at first that ye didn't hear me."
"I really thought it was a dog howling, Sam'l. It was Flo who said it
was a man calling for help. I then knew that it must be you. My, we
had a job getting you to the house. We never could have done it if
John hadn't been with us."
"It's a wonder he could leave his sweetheart long enough to come with
ye, Martha. Did ye find out anything more about her?"
"Nothing. Mrs. Hampton banged on the piano, while John and the girl
sang until my head ached. I believe they did it so I wouldn't ask any
more questions. I really think there is something mysterious about
Miss Bean. What was she doing at the quarry? How did she happen to
get hurt? And how did John come to get so well acquainted with her?
Mark my word, I shall find out all about her."
Little sleep came to the captain that night, and the hours wore slowly
away. He had insisted that his wife and daughter should go to bed.
Their presence annoyed him. He wanted to be alone that he might think,
for he was more worried about the "Eb and Flo" than he would openly
acknowledge. He was getting along in years, and boating was the only
thing he could do to make enough to provide for his family. He could
not afford to buy or build another craft for the season's work, not
even a scow, so if the "Eb and Flo" could not be saved, he did not know
what to do. His only hope lay in a heavy rain which would cause the
river to rise enough to float the boat. That, however, was not a very
bright outlook, for such a boon could hardly be expected during the
summer. It was only in the fall when the heavy rains set in, and then
it would be too late for much work. And besides, he would lose the
carrying of the stones from the quarry. There was not much cordwood to
be taken to the city, and most of the lumber from the mills was now
being freighted in scows.
And thus he watched and waited, his anxious thoughts, and the pain in
his foot driving all sleep from his eyes. Eagerly he listened to the
clock as it ticked on the shelf across the room, and struck out the
heavy-footed hours. Never did any night seem so long. Often he had
sailed on the river from sunset to sunrise, and thought nothing of it.
He had something to occupy his attention then. But now he had nothing
to do but lie there and wait.
When at last the first faint signs of dawn began to steal into the
room, the captain lifted himself to a sitting position and looked out
of the window. But nothing could he see, for the river still lay
enwrapped in the shadows of the hills beyond. Impatiently he waited,
and at length he was enabled to view quite clearly the water as it
stretched out before him. Eagerly his eyes searched for the "Eb and
Flo," but not a sign of her could he behold. Nothing but the flats on
the other side of the river met his view. What did it all mean? he
asked himself. Where was the boat? A mingled feeling of curiosity,
hope and anxiety possessed him, and only with the greatest difficulty
could he restrain his impatience until his wife came downstairs.
"She's gone, Martha!" he shouted, as soon as his wife entered the room.
"She's nowhere in sight."
"What! The boat?" Mrs. Tobin replied, as she hurried to the window and
peered out. She stood for a few seconds, looking up and down the
river. Then she turned to her husband with an anxious expression upon
her face.
"Do you suppose she's sunk, Sam'l?"
"Sunk; no. If she'd gone down, Eben would have come ashore in the
tender. Mebbe he's managed to git her under way, an' taken her down
river. Ye kin never tell what that boy might do. Jist scoot over an'
ask John to go to the store an' phone to the city. Tell him to call up
Jimmy Gault at Injuntown. He's a good friend of mine, an' he'll know
if the 'Eb an' Flo's' down."
"Wait until after breakfast, Sam'l. The store won't be open yet.
How's your foot?"
"Pretty bad, Martha. But I guess it'll be all right if the 'Eb an'
Flo's' safe. Give me me pipe, will ye? I'd like a smoke to soothe me
nerves."
It seemed to the captain that the time would never pass until John
returned from the store and reported that Eben had reached the city
early that morning, and all was well.
"Thank the Lord!" the captain fervently exclaimed. "I kin rest in
peace now. But I wonder how the boy done it. How in time he histed
that sail is a mystery to me."
"Perhaps it was never lowered," his wife suggested. "You left it up,
didn't you?"
"I know I did, but I saw it go down as sure as I'm alive. Then when I
looked agin, it was up, an' the boat was adrift, making fer them mud
flats. What d'ye think of that?"
"What do you suppose saved her from going aground, Sam'l?"
"It must have been the Lord, Martha. It was nuthin' more'n a miracle
that kept that boat from goin' on hard an' fast. That boy could never
have histed that sail alone an' taken the 'Eb an' Flo' down the river
in sich a gale."
"Maybe there was an angel with him, Sam'l, such as stood with St. Paul
long ago."
"Mebbe so, Martha. I've been thinkin' of that, an' it gives one a kind
of comfortin' feelin', doesn't it?"
All day long the captain remained upon the sofa. His foot pained him a
great deal, but he never complained. His wife tended him most
faithfully, and never scolded him once. She was more gentle than he
had ever known her to be, and when the paper arrived from the post
office she read to him the news of the day. An article about the
unsuccessful search for the body of Miss Randall was of the greatest
interest, and Mrs. Tobin read it through very carefully. The captain
listened attentively, expecting every minute to hear an expression of
doubt as to the girl's death. He lay staring straight before him when
his wife had finished. A feeling possessed him that he should tell
Martha what he knew. It would relieve his mind, and at the same time
explain the presence of the girl across the way. But would she keep
the secret? or would she consider it her bounden duty to send word to
the girl's parents? He was almost certain that she would take the
latter course, and this made him hesitate.
As he was pondering over this, Mrs. Hampton and Jess Randall came to
the house to see him. They were anxious to know how he was getting
along, and Mrs. Hampton had brought a bottle of her choicest jam for
his special benefit.
"It is sartinly good of yez to come," he told them. "Martha was
entertainin' me by readin' the paper. It helps pass the time."
"I was just reading about that poor girl who drowned herself," Mrs.
Tobin explained. "Have you seen it, Miss?"
The girl's hands trembled slightly as she took the paper, and ran her
eyes rapidly over the article. Her face turned somewhat pale as she
read, and her heart beat fast. It was not the first time that the
seriousness of the situation had come into her mind. But she had
always excused herself by the justness of her cause. Any girl with the
least spark of spirit would do the same, she reasoned. Her parents had
no right to force her to marry a man she hated. But the thought of the
men searching for her body was horrible. What would the papers say if
the truth became known, as it surely would in time? She was much
relieved, however, to learn that no one suspected that she was alive,
not even her parents. Anyway, she had taken matters into her own
hands, and she did not intend to turn back now. She longed to speak to
the captain alone, and this opportunity was soon afforded when Mrs.
Tobin took Mrs. Hampton into the garden to show her some special
flowers. Thus the captain and Jess were left together for a few
minutes.
"Oh, Captain, I want to thank you for your kindness," the girl
impetuously began. "I was almost frightened out of my senses when I
saw you last night."
"So I looked as bad as all that, did I?" The captain chuckled as he
looked at his fair visitor. "No, Miss, I wouldn't give ye away. But I
was afraid that Martha might pump the secret out of ye."
"And you will keep the secret, won't you?" the girl pleaded. "You will
not tell anyone, not even your wife?"
"I'll try to, Miss," and the captain sighed. "But Eben knows, and I'm
expectin' him home shortly. How did ye git that cut on yer head?" he
suddenly asked.
"Why, don't you know?" and Jess looked her surprise. "A stone came
through the window as John and I were sitting by that injured man at
the quarry."
"But who threw the stone?"
"I have not the least idea. John wanted to have a search made at the
quarry in order to find the one who did it. But I would not let him.
I was afraid it would make too much talk, and it might get into the
papers."
"D'ye intend to stay here, Miss?" the captain asked. "Yer dad's sure
to know of yer whereabouts, even though ye call yerself Betty Bean.
How in time did ye think of sich a name as that?"
Jess laughed, although her eyes expressed anxiety.
"I am afraid I cannot stay here long, Captain. But I wish I could.
Mrs. Hampton seems just like my own mother, she is so kind and loving.
Perhaps you will take me again on your boat. That is the safest place
I can think of now."
"I guess ye wouldn't find it very safe thar, Miss. It served as a
refuge fer a time, but please don't try it on agin, unless ye want to
git me into trouble."
Jess smiled, more at the peculiar expression on the captain's face than
at his words of warning. She understood perfectly well what he meant,
for she had met his wife. For a few seconds there was silence. Then
the captain looked into the bright face before him, and his eyes
twinkled.
"Say, Miss," he began, "I know a fine way out of yer difficulty. It's
a great one, an' jist stuck me all of a sudden."
"You do! Oh, I knew you would help me."
"Yes, it's the only way I kin see," the captain continued. "It will
keep yer parents from forcin' ye to marry that Lord's son. They can't
touch ye if ye jist foller my advice."
"I will, Captain. Just tell me what to do."
"Git married."
"Oh!" The girl gave a great start, while her face crimsoned.
"Didn't expect that, eh?" and the captain chuckled. "Took ye kinder by
surprise?"
"Indeed it did. And I'm afraid I can't take your advice. Why, I've
run away to escape getting married."
"Ah, that's all right, Miss. Ye ran away to escape one man, but I
guess thar's another ye won't run away from. Isn't that true? Thar
now, ye needn't blush an' git all confused. I'm old enough to be yer
grandfather, so ye needn't git upsot at what I say. I'm only speakin'
fer yer good. Marry John Hampton, an' then ye won't have to worry any
more about marryin' that Lord Stick-in-the-Mud. John's a real nice
feller, an' I guess you like him as well as he likes you."
"But, Captain, I couldn't marry John," Jess protested. "In fact, he
hasn't even asked me to marry him."
"He hasn't! John hasn't asked ye to marry him?" The captain's
surprise and indignation were so great that he sat bolt upright. Then
he sank back with a groan. "Blame that foot!" he growled. "I fergot
all about it. An' no wonder. To think that John hasn't asked ye to
marry him. What in thunder has he been doin', then?"
Before the girl could reply, the women returned, and in a few minutes
she and Mrs. Hampton left the house. Jess was pleased at the
interruption, for the conversation was becoming embarrassing.
Nevertheless, she thought more of the captain for his friendly words of
advice, and cherished them in the depth of her heart. She knew that
they were true, and that to marry the man she loved would free her from
all annoyance of Donaster.
There was great excitement the next day in the Tobin family when "The
Daily Courier" arrived. It had a full account of the thrilling
experience of rescuing the "Eb and Flo" at the brink of the falls.
Mrs. Tobin read it aloud, while the captain and Flo listened with
intense interest. At times the former interrupted with exclamations of
surprise. He was more excited than his wife had ever seen him, and he
could hardly restrain himself from leaping from the sofa and prancing
around the room.
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" he thundered, when his wife had finished, and
laid aside the paper. "Why in time didn't Eben tie up at some wharf
instead of goin' through the Narrows when the tide was runnin' down?
That boy hasn't enough brains to last him over night."
"Don't talk that way, Sam'l," his wife chided. "No doubt the poor boy
was doing the best he could. He must have used his brains when he
saved the boat from going on the mud flats."
"Sure, sure, Martha. Yer quite right. But, say, what a narrow squeeze
that was! In another minute Eben an' the boat would have been into the
falls, an', then, Good Lord!"
"Doesn't the paper say there were two men with him?" Flo asked. "Who
were they, do you suppose?" The girl's face was pale, and she was
greatly agitated.
"Yes, yes, it does say thar were two men, who left in a motor-boat,"
the captain replied. "Now, who were they? D'ye s'pose they were on
the boat when the storm struck, an' helped Eben hist the sail? They
must have been thar, fer that boy could never have histed that sail
alone. Read it all over agin, Martha."
The Tobin family had now a great subject for conversation, which kept
them talking and speculating for the rest of the day. Mrs. Tobin
carried the paper to her neighbours across the way, and discussed it
with them. Jess said very little, although she was doing some serious
thinking. Two men were with Eben, and they had evidently been with him
during the storm. Fearful as she was of being followed, she naturally
concluded that they were in search of her. Perhaps there was a
suspicion abroad that she had taken refuge on the "Eb and Flo," and had
not drowned herself. She said nothing, however, about her fears, but
listened to Mrs. Tobin as she enlarged upon the danger through which
her son had passed.
All through the afternoon the captain kept a close watch upon the
river. He felt sure that Eben would bring the boat back that day. His
foot was not giving him so much trouble, and he longed to be up and
doing. But his wife and daughter would not allow him to leave the
sofa, notwithstanding his vigorous protests.
"I must git around, Martha," he said after a special rebuke by his wife
for his lack of patience. "Me foot needs to be moved, or it'll be
stiff to the end of me days."
"Don't you worry about that, Sam'l. A sprain needs rest, and you're
going to stay right where you are."
The captain sighed as he tried to possess his soul in patience. But
the time dragged heavily, and the "Eb and Flo" was nowhere in sight.
Supper was almost ready when Flo, happening to glance out of the
window, gave a cry of joy.
"The boat's coming now, daddy!" she announced. "I'm sure it's the 'Eb
and Flo.'"
"Is thar a big patch in the sail?" her father asked.
"Yes, I can see it quite plainly."
"Then it's her, Flo. Thank the Lord Eben's come at last. He's a great
boy, that. Guess he'll amount to something after all. Ye'd better cut
an extry slice of that ham, fer Eben'll have an appetite like a bear
when he gits home."