THE EXAMINATION.
Mrs. Taylor did not sleep any better than her son. Her troubles kept her
awake, and not her worthless husband, who was so tipsy when he returned
from the saloon, that he dropped asleep as soon as he lay down. The poor
woman had done nothing to improve the situation, for she could not leave
the town until after the examination. At nine o'clock Mr. Brooks came to
the cottage with a warrant for her arrest, but he considerately begged
her not to disturb herself about the matter. All he required of her was
to appear at the office of Squire Norwood at ten o'clock, and no one
need ever know she was in custody before that hour.
Little Bobtail came on shore before the officer left the house, and
reported himself ready, in his own words, to "face the music." At the
appointed hour there was a considerable collection of people in the
office of Squire Norwood. Mr. Walker, who was quite a distinguished man,
the mayor of Bangor, Judge Hamblin, and several other notable gentlemen
of the state were present, all of them interested in the fate of the
brave youth who had behaved so well off Blank Island. They were members
of the Penobscot's party, and each of them was willing to do all that
Colonel Montague would do if present.
Mrs. Taylor and her son appeared, and they were warmly greeted by the
interested spectators. The business proceeded in due form, and Mr.
Simonton astonished Squire Gilfilian by asking for a postponement until
the next Tuesday. The reasons for this request were considered, and they
were deemed sufficient; but Squire Gilfilian stoutly objected, because a
certain witness would be obliged to remain in Camden three days. Judge
Hamblin consulted with Squire Simonton, and it was agreed to proceed
with the examination. Mrs. Taylor trembled and wept when this decision
was reached, and a smile of triumph played upon the lips of Squire
Gilfilian. Captain Chinks tried to be indifferent, but he was evidently
pleased with the result. The case was commenced, and Squire Gilfilian,
Captain Chinks, and the ill-visaged man gave their evidence as they had
stated it in the office of the lawyer. It appeared that Robert Taylor
had left the letter on the squire's desk. The five hundred dollar bill
was produced and identified by Mr. Slipwing, and it was shown that this
bill had been paid to the squire by Mrs. Taylor. No evidence was
introduced to show that the boy had returned to the office after Captain
Chinks left, but it seemed impossible to escape the conclusion that he
had done so. Mrs. Taylor now appeared as a defendant, and could not be
compelled to testify. At this point in the proceedings, Squire Simonton
renewed his request that the further examination of the defendants be
postponed till the next Tuesday, when he hoped to bring forward an
important witness in the case. Captain Chinks, in spite of his assumed
indifference, was uneasy at this statement. The request was granted; Mr.
Walker and the mayor of Bangor offered themselves as bail for the
defendants, and they were released from custody.
The case certainly looked very black for Mrs. Taylor and her son. The
kind friends who appeared to assist them were staggered at the evidence,
and feared it would be impossible to save him from conviction. They
could only hope for the best, and hope against what appeared to be an
absolute certainty. Judge Hamblin was confounded, but he was so averse
to believing the brave boy was guilty, that he suspected there was a
conspiracy. After the postponement of the examination, he asked Squire
Gilfilian to let him see the five hundred dollar bill.
"Mrs. Taylor, have you looked at this bill?" he asked, as he showed it
to the troubled woman.
"No, sir; I have not," she replied.
"Won't you look at it? Do you remember the bill you paid Mr. Gilfilian?"
"I didn't look at it much."
"How long did you have the bill in your possession?"
"Not long, sir."
"Did you examine it?"
"Not much; I looked it over a little."
Mrs. Taylor turned over the note in her hands, and examined it very
carefully.
"Does that one look like it?" asked the judge, anxiously.
[Illustration]
"You don't suppose we have changed the bill--do you?" demanded Squire
Gilfilian, rather indignantly.
"Certainly not, Mr. Gilfilian," replied the judge. "At least I don't
suppose you have any knowledge of such a trick. But there may be some
mistake. The witness who identifies this bill is taking charge of the
defence of the Buckingham Bank robbers. Perhaps he is one of them
himself, and it is even possible that he sent you no money in the
letter."
"I have no desire to convict the boy, if he is not guilty," added Mr.
Gilfilian.
"Certainly not; I do not suppose the contrary, but I would like to hear
what the boy's mother says about this bill. Now, Mrs. Taylor," continued
the judge, turning to the troubled woman, "does that bill look like the
one you paid Mr. Gilfilian?"
"Yes, sir; very much like it," answered she, sadly.
"Do you think it is the one?"
"I think it is, sir."
"Look at it very carefully, if you please."
"I have looked at it; and I'm sure this is the one," said Mrs. Taylor.
Squire Gilfilian looked triumphantly at the judge, who was more amazed
than ever. He knew the workings of crime well enough to see the bearing
of poor Mrs. Taylor's present conduct. If guilty she would not have
acknowledged the identity of the bill. She would have encouraged the
lawyers to save herself and her son, by following out the suggestion
that the letter had contained no bill.
"Then where did you get this bill, Mrs. Taylor?" asked the judge.
"I can't tell at present, sir," replied the poor mother, as she glanced
at her son.
Mr. Simonton explained that, for some reason inexplicable to him, the
woman positively refused to explain where the bill came from. The judge
was still more confounded; though, after the straightforward and
damaging answers she had given in regard to the identity of the bill, he
could not believe she was guilty, even while it was impossible to see
how she could be innocent. The parties left the office, and everybody
talked about the examination for the rest of the day.
Ezekiel Taylor did not attend the examination, for he was engaged in an
examination on his own account. He improved the opportunity while
Bobtail and his mother were absent in searching for the contraband
merchandise. He had already consumed the bottle of brandy given him by
Captain Chinks, and was anxious to find the goods, in order to obtain
another. He ransacked the house from cellar to garret, without finding
anything which looked like a case of brandy. He was bitterly
disappointed, but he continued his search in the vicinity of the house,
and along the shore. He spent the whole day in this fruitless
occupation.
Judge Hamblin walked to the Bay View House, after the close of the
proceedings, and Little Bobtail went with him. The bewildered legal
gentleman questioned the boy closely, but his replies were always square
and prompt. He knew nothing whatever about the letter after he left it
on the desk in the office.
"Are you going to see Colonel Montague?" whispered Mrs. Taylor, who had
followed her son to the hotel.
"I should like to tell him about the case, but I don't see that he can
do anything for us. These folks have done everything," replied Bobtail,
gloomily.
"You said you were going, but I don't ask you to go."
"Two gentlemen here want the boat. They said they wished for a sail, and
didn't care about fishing. If they had just as lief go to Belfast as
anywhere else, I'll run up there. It's a tip-top breeze to go and come."
"Do as you think best, but don't tell him I sent you," added Mrs.
Taylor, as she walked towards home.
Bobtail thought she was over sensitive about calling upon her old
employer, but was willing to humor her, and promised to tell Colonel
Montague, if he saw him, that his mother had not sent him.
"Now, where's Captain Bobtail?" shouted a gentleman, coming out of the
hotel.
"Here I am, sir."
"You were to take us out to sail if you got out of that scrape, my boy."
"I'm not out of it, sir; but I can take you out to sail," replied the
skipper of the Skylark.
"We are all ready, and Mr. Philbrook has put up a basket of stores for
us; for we were going to take another boat if you couldn't go."
"The boat is all ready, sir. Where do you wish to go?"
"Don't care a fig where we go. All we want is a good sail."
"How long do you want to be out, sir?"
"O, till night."
"What do you say to a run up to Belfast?"
"Capital! But can you go as far as that in one day, or what is left of
the day?"
"I can run up there with this wind, and the tide in our favor, in about
three hours. It is blowing pretty fresh."
"I see it is."
"And the wind is west. The tide will turn about the time we get there,
and the wind is fair both ways, or nearly all the way. If the wind
holds, I can get you back before nine o'clock, and give you an hour or
two in Belfast."
"All right, my lad. We don't care whether we get back by nine o'clock or
not,--just as lief make a night of it as not," added the gentleman, who
spoke for both.
"You can sleep tip-top in the cabin; but I will get you back by nine, if
the wind don't die out. I can't warrant you against that."
"Belfast it is, my lad. Now, how much do you ask a day for your boat?"
"Seven dollars, sir, for the boat and crew; eight if we cook for you,"
replied Bobtail, who had decided to advance the price, as he stated, in
order to pay for the few groceries and other stores.
"Cook?" queried the gentleman.
"If you take a fish dinner and supper on board, I charge a dollar more.
I can give you tea and coffee, fried fish, and fried potatoes. If you
want meats, I must charge for them, too."
"Good, Captain Bobtail. We will have fish for dinner and supper, and pay
you eight dollars," laughed the gentleman, amused at the business-like
talk of the boy.
"But can we stop to catch fish?" asked his companion.
"We have time enough," answered the skipper.
"Then catch the fish by all means, for they are twice as good just out
of the water."
Little Bobtail procured a small can of milk, and a bucket of fresh clams
for bait. The yacht was amply supplied with water and stores, and the
party hastened to the steps at the Portland steamer wharf. A boy in a
boat pulled them off to the Skylark.
"Loose the mainsail, Monkey," shouted Bobtail, as the boat approached
the yacht.
"Ay, ay," replied the Darwinian, with enthusiasm; for he was glad to
vary the monotony of his situation as boat-keeper.
"Your crew is well named, Captain Bobtail," laughed one of the
gentlemen.
"Yes, sir. Monkey is a queer-looking fellow, but he is just as good as
they make them," replied Bobtail, as he leaped upon the deck of the
Skylark.
The gentlemen were delighted with the yacht, and explored her above and
below, while the skipper and his crew were hoisting the mainsail and
weighing the anchor. In a few moments Bobtail took his place at the
helm; the fresh breeze struck the mainsail as the skipper hauled in the
sheet, and the Skylark heeled over, gathered headway, and went off like
an arrow shot from a bow.
"See here, Captain Bobtail; you won't upset us--will you?" said one of
his passengers as the yacht heeled down, when she caught the breeze.
"O, no, sir. I mean to keep her right side up," replied the skipper.
"I have no doubt you mean to do so; but can you do it?"
"To be sure I can."
"She tipped pretty badly then."
"That was nothing. She will go over ever so much farther than that
without putting her scuppers under. She had not got her bearings then.
Now hoist the jib, Monkey," shouted Bobtail.
"Hold on, Captain Bobtail!" said one of the gentlemen. "Don't you think
you have sail enough on? It blows fresher than I thought it did."
"It's just a whole sail breeze. She will carry her jib without winking,
and go along as steady as a lady on the sidewalk," laughed Bobtail, who
concluded that his passengers were not accustomed to boats, especially
when the wind blew.
"We are going ten miles an hour now," suggested the second gentleman.
"Not seven, sir. We will try the jib; and if you don't like it, we can
take it in again."
Monkey had hoisted the jib, and it was flapping and pounding
furiously,--making a noise which was rather trying to the nerves of the
gentlemen. The skipper seized the lee sheet, and luffing up the boat,
flattened down the sail to its proper place, for he was obliged to run a
short distance to the northward in order to clear some vessels at
anchor. Having passed these, the sheets were started, and the Skylark
went off before the wind. The sea was not heavy so far in shore, but it
was exciting sailing, and the passengers kept silence, watching the
swift motion of the yacht. In a short time they were accustomed to the
situation, and began to talk, though in rather subdued tones at first.
They seemed to regard the skipper with a feeling of awe, and realized
that their lives were in his keeping. They knew little or nothing about
a boat, and did not feel quite at home with such lively sailing. The
confident manner of the young skipper, his perfect command of the
situation, his pleasant speech and laugh, reassured them. When the yacht
had passed North-east Point the course was changed to the north-east,
and the sheets hauled in, so that the Skylark had the wind a little
abaft the beam. This was her best point in sailing, and she soon
exhibited her best speed. She heeled over so that her scuppers often
went under. Bobtail kept her just far enough from the land to get the
full force of the wind, but not far enough to be shaken up by the waves,
which beat heavily on La Salle Island, east of them.
"This is lively--isn't it, Howe?" said one of the gentlemen.
"It is the smartest sailing I ever saw," replied Mr. Howe. "You seem to
know what you are about, Captain Bobtail."
"I think I do, sir," answered the skipper. "I have been in a boat ever
since I was born, and I can't remember the time when I couldn't sail
one."
"I would give a hundred dollar bill if I could sail a boat as well as
you can," said Mr. Jones.
"So would I," added Mr. Howe.
"I will tell you all I know about it for nothing," laughed the skipper.
"I don't pretend to know much, but somehow I always get along. Won't you
take the helm, sir, and try your hand at it?"
"No, not now; I should rather begin when it is not quite so lively,"
replied Mr. Jones.
"It is easy enough. She will almost steer herself. All you have to do is
to run for that point of land, about eight miles ahead."
"Eight miles--is it?" asked Mr. Howe, consulting his watch.
"About eight from here. It is just ten from the point astern of us."
"It is exactly twelve o'clock now. Let us see how long it takes us to go
eight miles."
"I can tell you now, sir," laughed Bobtail. "It will take us just
forty-eight minutes."
"Good, my lad! I will time you. If it takes forty-nine, you are no
prophet."
"I don't expect to tell within a minute; but I guess I'll steer myself,
if you are going to whittle me down as close as that."
Bobtail began to be very exact in his steering and sailing. He started
the sheets a couple of inches, and watched the point ahead very closely.
Ten miles an hour was fast sailing for a boat of the size of the
Skylark; but he knew she would do it if she was well handled. The two
gentlemen kept looking at their watches, and as the distance diminished
they declared she would make the point in half an hour; but distances
are very delusive on the water, and when half an hour had elapsed, they
thought that five minutes more would bring the boat up with the
headland. Bobtail watched his sails, and "steered small." In forty
minutes he found that he should make the point a little too soon, and he
let out the jib-sheet a little, so that the sail did not draw full.
"Forty-five minutes!" exclaimed Mr. Jones, "and we are off the point."
"But we are not up with it, sir," replied Bobtail, hauling in the
jib-sheet again.
"You are cutting it fine, Captain Bobtail," added Mr. Howe.
"Of course I meant abreast of the point, and when it lies just abeam, we
shall be up with it. Here we are, sir!"
"Forty-eight minutes to a second!" ejaculated Mr. Jones, as he showed
his watch to the skipper.
"Lower the jib, Monkey!" shouted Bobtail.
"I did not think you could hit it so closely as that," said Mr. Howe.
"Well, sir, I couldn't if you hadn't told me the time every few
minutes," laughed Bobtail. "I bamboozled you."
"How?"
"I should have made the point in three quarters of an hour if I hadn't
let out the jib-sheet. I lost the three minutes on purpose."
"But why do you lower the jib here?" asked Mr. Jones.
"We will try the fish here. Ready with the anchor, Monkey!"
"All ready," replied the Darwinian.
Bobtail threw the yacht up into the wind, and as soon as she had lost
her headway, he gave the order to let go the anchor. Monkey had got out
the fishing gear and opened the clams on the passage up, so that the
passengers threw over their lines immediately. They did not have a bite
for some time, and Monkey threw over a line. It had hardly run out
before he had a fish, and pulled in a good-sized cod.
"How's that?" said Mr. Howe. "I haven't had a nibble yet."
"Perhaps you don't fish right, sir," suggested Monkey, with one of his
apish grins, as he took the gentleman's line, and found that the sinker
was not within twenty feet of the bottom. "That's what's the matter,
sir. Drop the line down till the sinker touches bottom; then pull up
about a fathom."
The two passengers, following these instructions, began to pull in cod
and haddock very rapidly, and Monkey had all he could do to bait their
hooks, and take off their fish.