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[Illustration: YACHT CLUB SERIES]
[Illustration: MISS NELLIE PATTERDALE AND DON JOHN. Frontispiece.]
[Illustration: OLIVER OPTIC'S YACHT CLUB SERIES.
THE YACHT CLUB.
LEE & SHEPARD,
BOSTON]
THE YACHT CLUB SERIES.
* * * * *
THE YACHT CLUB;
OR,
THE YOUNG BOAT-BUILDER.
BY
OLIVER OPTIC,
AUTHOR OF "YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD," "THE ARMY AND NAVY SERIES,"
"THE WOODVILLE STORIES," "THE STARRY FLAG SERIES," "THE
BOAT CLUB STORIES," "THE LAKE SHORE SERIES,"
"THE UPWARD AND ONWARD SERIES,"
ETC., ETC.
_WITH THIRTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS._
BOSTON:
LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.
NEW YORK:
LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873,
BY WILLIAM T. ADAMS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
* * * * *
Brown Type-Setting Machine Company.
TO
MY YOUNG FRIEND
_CHARLES H. HASTINGS_,
OF NEW YORK,
This Book is Affectionately Dedicated.
The Yacht Club Series.
1. LITTLE BOBTAIL; OR, THE WRECK OF THE PENOBSCOT.
2. THE YACHT CLUB; OR, THE YOUNG BOAT-BUILDER.
3. MONEY-MAKER; OR, THE VICTORY OF THE BASILISK.
4. THE COMING WAVE; OR, THE HIDDEN TREASURE OF HIGH ROCK.
5. THE DORCAS CLUB; OR, OUR GIRLS AFLOAT.
(The sixth in preparation.)
PREFACE.
"THE YACHT CLUB" is the second volume of the YACHT CLUB SERIES, to which
it gives a name; and like its predecessor, is an independent story. The
hero has not before appeared, though some of the characters of "LITTLE
BOBTAIL" take part in the incidents: but each volume may be read
understandingly without any knowledge of the contents of the other. In
this story, the interest centres in Don John, the Boat-builder, who is
certainly a very enterprising young man, though his achievements have
been more than paralleled in the domain of actual life.
Like the first volume of the series, the incidents of the story
transpire on the waters of the beautiful Penobscot Bay, and on its
shores. They include several yacht races, which must be more interesting
to those who are engaged in the exciting sport of yachting, than to
others. But the principal incidents are distinct from the aquatic
narrative; and those who are not interested in boats and boating will
find that Don John and Nellie Patterdale do not spend all their time on
the water.
The hero is a young man of high aims and noble purposes: and the writer
believes that it is unpardonable to awaken the interest and sympathy of
his readers for any other than high-minded and well-meaning characters.
But he is not faultless; he makes some grave mistakes, even while he has
high aims. The most important lesson in morals to be derived from his
experience is that it is unwise and dangerous for young people to
conceal their actions from their parents and friends; and that men and
women who seek concealment "choose darkness because their deeds are
evil."
HARRISON SQUARE, BOSTON,
May 22, 1873.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
DON JOHN OF BELFAST, AND FRIENDS 11
CHAPTER II.
ABOUT THE TIN BOX 28
CHAPTER III.
THE YACHT CLUB AT TURTLE HEAD 46
CHAPTER IV.
A SAD EVENT IN THE RAMSAY FAMILY 63
CHAPTER V.
CAPTAIN SHIVERNOCK 81
CHAPTER VI.
DONALD GETS THE JOB 99
CHAPTER VII.
LAYING DOWN THE KEEL. 117
CHAPTER VIII.
THE FIRST REGATTA. 135
CHAPTER IX.
THE SKYLARK AND THE SEA FOAM. 153
CHAPTER X.
THE LAUNCH OF THE MAUD. 171
CHAPTER XI.
THE WHITE CROSS OF DENMARK. 189
CHAPTER XII.
DONALD ANSWERS QUESTIONS. 207
CHAPTER XIII.
MOONLIGHT ON THE JUNO. 226
CHAPTER XIV.
CAPTAIN SHIVERNOCK'S JOKE. 244
CHAPTER XV.
LAUD CAVENDISH TAKES CARE OF HIMSELF. 264
CHAPTER XVI.
SATURDAY COVE. 283
CHAPTER XVII.
THE GREAT RACE. 302
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE HASBROOK OUTRAGE, AND OTHER MATTERS. 320
THE YACHT CLUB;
OR,
THE YOUNG BOAT-BUILDER.
CHAPTER I.
DON JOHN OF BELFAST, AND FRIENDS.
"Why, Don John, how you frightened me!" exclaimed Miss Nellie
Patterdale, as she sprang up from her reclining position in a
lolling-chair.
It was an intensely warm day near the close of June, and the young lady
had chosen the coolest and shadiest place she could find on the piazza
of her father's elegant mansion in Belfast. She was as pretty as she was
bright and vivacious, and was a general favorite among the pupils of the
High School, which she attended. She was deeply absorbed in the reading
of a story in one of the July magazines, which had just come from the
post-office, when she heard a step near her. The sound startled her, it
was so near; and, looking up, she discovered the young man whom she had
spoken to close beside her. He was not Don John of Austria, but Donald
John Ramsay of Belfast, who had been addressed by his companions simply
as Don, a natural abbreviation of his first name, until he of Austria
happened to be mentioned in the history recitation in school, when the
whole class looked at Don, and smiled; some of the girls even giggled,
and got a check for it; but the republican young gentleman became a
titular Spanish hidalgo from that moment. Though he was the son of a
boat-builder, by trade a ship carpenter, he was a good-looking, and
gentlemanly fellow, and was treated with kindness and consideration by
most of the sons and daughters of the wealthy men of Belfast, who
attended the High School. It was hardly a secret that Don John regarded
Miss Nellie with especial admiration, or that, while he was polite to
all the young ladies, he was particularly so to her. It is a fact, too,
that he blushed when she turned her startled gaze upon him on the
piazza; and it is just as true that Miss Nellie colored deeply, though
it may have been only the natural consequence of her surprise.
"I beg your pardon, Nellie; I did not mean to frighten you," replied
Donald.
"I don't suppose you did, Don John; but you startled me just as much as
though you had meant it," added she, with a pleasant smile, so forgiving
that the young man had no fear of the consequences. "How terribly hot it
is! I am almost melted."
"It is very warm," answered Donald, who, somehow or other, found it very
difficult to carry on a conversation with Nellie; and his eyes seemed to
him to be twice as serviceable as his tongue.
"It is dreadful warm."
And so they went on repeating the same thing over and over again, till
there was no other known form of expression for warm weather.
"How in the world did you get to the side of my chair without my hearing
you?" demanded Nellie, when it was evidently impossible to say anything
more about the heat.
"I came up the front steps, and was walking around on the piazza to your
father's library. I didn't see you till you spoke," replied Donald,
reminded by this explanation that he had come to Captain Patterdale's
house for a purpose. "Is Ned at home?"
"No; he has gone up to Searsport to stay over Sunday with uncle Henry."
"Has he? I'm sorry. Is your father at home?"
"He is in his library, and there is some one with him. Won't you sit
down, Don John?"
"Thank you," added Donald, seating himself in a rustic chair. "It is
very warm this afternoon."
Nellie actually laughed, for she was conscious of the difficulties of
the situation--more so than her visitor. But we must do our hero--for
such he is--the justice to say, that he did not refer to the exhausted
topic with the intention of confining the conversation to it, but to
introduce the business which had called him to the house.
"It is intensely hot, Don John," laughed Nellie.
"But I was going to ask you if you would not like to take a sail," said
Donald, with a blush. "With your father, I mean," added he, with a
deeper blush, as he realized that he had actually asked a girl to go
out in a boat with him.
"I should be delighted to go, but I can't. Mother won't let me go on the
water when the sun is out, it hurts my eyes so," answered Nellie; and
the young man was sure she was very sorry she could not go.
"Perhaps we can go after sunset, then," suggested Donald. "I am sorry
Ned is not at home; for his yacht is finished, and father says the paint
is dry enough to use her. We are going to have a little trial trip in
her over to Turtle Head, and, perhaps, round by Searsport."
"Is the Sea Foam really done?" asked Nellie, her eyes sparkling with
delight.
"Yes, she is all ready, and father will deliver her to Ned on Monday, if
everything works right about her. I thought some of your folks,
especially Ned, would like to be in her on the first trip."
"I should, for one; but I suppose it is no use for me to think of it. My
eyes are ever so much better, and I hope I shall be able to sail in the
Sea Foam soon."
"I hope so, too. We expect she will beat the Skylark; father thinks she
will."
"I don't care whether she does or not," laughed Nellie.
"Do you think I could see your father just a moment?" asked Donald. "I
only want to know whether or not he will go with us."
"I think so; I will go and speak to him. Come in, Don John," replied
Nellie, rising from her lolling-chair, and walking around the corner of
the house to the front door.
Donald followed her. The elegant mansion was located on a corner lot,
with a broad hall through the centre of it, on one side of which was the
large drawing-room, and on the other the sitting and dining-rooms. At
the end of the great hall was a door opening into the library, a large
apartment, which occupied the whole of a one-story addition to the
original structure. It had also an independent outside door, which
opened upon the piazza; and opposite to it was a flight of steps, down
to the gravel walk terminating at a gate on the cross street. People who
came to see Captain Patterdale on business could enter at this gate, and
go to the library without passing through the house. On the present
occasion, a horse and wagon stood at the gate, which indicated to Miss
Nellie that her father was engaged. This team had stood there for an
hour, and Donald had watched it for half that time, waiting for the
owner to leave, though he was not at all anxious to terminate the
interview with his fair schoolmate.
Nellie knocked at the library door, and her father told her to come in.
She passed in, while Donald waited the pleasure of the rich man in the
hall.
He was invited to enter. Captain Patterdale was evidently bored by his
visitor, and gave the young man a cordial greeting. Donald stated his
business very briefly; but the captain did not say whether he would or
would not go upon the trial trip of the Sea Foam. He asked a hundred
questions about the new yacht, and it was plain that he did not care to
resume the conversation with his visitor, who walked nervously about the
room, apparently vexed at the interruption, and dissatisfied thus far
with the result of his interview with the captain.
What would have appeared to be true to an observer was actually so. The
visitor was one Jacob Hasbrook, from a neighboring town, and his
reputation for honesty and fair dealings was not the best in the world.
Captain Patterdale held his note, without security, for thirteen hundred
and fifty dollars. Hasbrook had property, but his creditors were never
sure of him till they were paid. At the present interview he had
astonished Captain Patterdale by paying the note in full, with interest,
on the day it became due. But it was soon clear enough to the rich man
that the payment was only a "blind" to induce him to embark in a
doubtful speculation with Hasbrook. The nature and immense profits of
the enterprise had been eloquently set forth by the visitor, and his own
capacity to manage it enlarged upon; but the nabob, who had made his
fortune by hard work, was utterly wanting in enthusiasm. He had received
the money in payment of his note, which he had expected to lose, or to
obtain only after resorting to legal measures, and he was fully
determined to have nothing more to do with the man. He had said all this
as mildly as he could; but Hasbrook was persistent, and probably felt
that in paying an honest debt he had thrown away thirteen hundred and
fifty dollars.
He would not go, though Captain Patterdale gave him sufficient excuse
for doing so, or even for cutting his acquaintance. The rich man
continued to talk with Don John, to the intense disgust of the
speculator, who stood looking at a tin box, painted green, which lay on
a chair. Perhaps he looked upon this box as the grave of his hopes; for
it contained the money he had just paid to the captain--the wasted
money, because the rich man would not embark with him in his brilliant
enterprise, though he had taken so much pains, and parted with so much
money, to prove that he was an honest man. He appeared to be interested
in the box, and he looked at it all the time, with only an impatient
glance occasionally at the nabob, who appeared to be trifling with his
bright hopes. The tin chest was about nine inches each way, and
contained the private papers and other valuables of the rich man,
including, now, the thirteen hundred and fifty dollars just received.
Captain Patterdale was president of the Twenty-first National Bank of
Belfast, which was located a short distance from his house. The tin box
was kept in the vaults of the bank; but the owner had taken it home to
examine some documents at his leisure, intending to return it to the
bank before night. As it was in the library when Mr. Hasbrook called,
the money was deposited in it for safe keeping over night.
"I'm afraid I can't go with you, Donald," said Captain Patterdale, after
he had asked him all the questions he could think of about the Sea Foam.
"I am sorry, sir; for Miss Nellie wanted to go, and I was going to ask
father to wait till after sunset on her account," added the young man.
Mr. Hasbrook began to look hopeful; for the last remark of the nabob
indicated a possible termination of the conversation. Donald began his
retreat toward the hall of the mansion, for he wanted to see the fair
daughter again; but he had not reached the door before the captain
called him back.
"I suppose your father wants some more money to-night," said he, feeling
in his pocket for the key to open the tin box.
"He didn't say anything to me about it, sir," replied Donald; "I don't
think he does."
Hasbrook looked hopeless again; for Captain Patterdale began to
calculate how much he had paid, and how much more he was to pay, for the
yacht. While he was doing so, there was a knock at the street door,
and, upon being invited to do so, Mr. Laud Cavendish entered the library
with a bill in his hand.
Mr. Laud Cavendish was a great man in his own estimation, and a great
swell in the estimation of everybody else. He was a clerk or salesman in
a store; but he was dressed very elegantly for a provincial city like
Belfast, and for a "counter-jumper" on six or eight dollars a week. He
was about eighteen years old, tall, and rather slender. His upper lip
was adorned with an incipient mustache, which had been tenderly coaxed
and colored for two years, without producing any prodigious result,
though it was the pride and glory of the owner. Mr. Cavendish was a
dreamy young gentleman, who believed that the Fates had made a bad
mistake in his case, inasmuch as he was the son of an honest and
industrious carpenter, instead of the son and heir of one of the nabobs
of Belfast. He believed that he was fitted to adorn the highest circle
in society, to shine among the aristocracy of the city, and it was a
cruel shame that he should be compelled to work in a store, weigh out
tea and sugar, carry goods to the elegant mansions where he ought to be
admitted at the front, instead of the back, door, collect bills, and
perform whatever other service might be required of him. The Fates had
blundered and conspired against him; but he was not without hope that
the daughter of some rich man, who might fall in love with him and his
mustache, would redeem him from his slavery to an occupation he hated,
and lift him up to the sphere where he belonged. Laud was "soaring after
the infinite," and so he rather neglected the mundane and practical, and
his employer did not consider him a very desirable clerk.
Mr. Laud Cavendish came with a bill in his hand, the footing of which
was the sum due his employer for certain necessary articles just
delivered at the kitchen door of the elegant mansion. Captain Patterdale
opened the tin box, and took therefrom some twenty dollars to pay the
bill, which Laud receipted. Mr. Hasbrook hoped he would go, and that Don
John would go; and perhaps they would have gone if a rather exciting
event had not occurred to detain them.
"Father! father!" exclaimed Miss Nellie, rushing into the library.
"What's the matter, Nellie?" demanded her father, calmly; for he had
long been a sea captain, and was used to emergencies.
"Michael has just dropped down in a fit!" gasped Nellie.
"Where is he?"
"In the yard."
Captain Patterdale, followed by his three visitors, rushed through the
hall, out at the front door, near which the unfortunate man had fallen,
and, with the assistance of his companions, lifted him from the ground.
Michael was the hired man who took care of the horses, and kept the
grounds around the elegant mansion in order. He was raking the gravel
walk near the piazza where Nellie was laboring to keep cool. As we have
hinted before, and as Nellie and Don John had several times repeated,
the day was intensely hot. The sun where the man worked was absolutely
scorching, and the hired man had experienced a sun-stroke. Captain
Patterdale and his visitors bore him to his room in the L, and Don John
ran for the doctor, who appeared in less than ten minutes. The visitors
all did what they could, Mr. Laud Cavendish behaving very well.
Michael's wife and other friends soon arrived, and there was nothing
more for Laud to do. He went down stairs, and, finding Nellie in the
hall, he tried to comfort her; for she was very much concerned for poor
Michael.
"Do you think he will die, Mr. Cavendish?" asked she, almost as much
moved as though the poor man had been her father.
"O, no! I think he will recover. These Irishmen have thick heads, and
they don't die so easily of sun-stroke; for that's what the doctor says
it is," replied Laud, knowingly.
Nellie thought, if this was a true view of _coup de soleil_, Laud would
never die of it. She thought this; but she was not so impolite as to say
it. She asked him no more questions; for she saw Don John approaching
through the dining-room.
"Good afternoon, Miss Patterdale," said Laud, with a bow and a flourish,
as he retired towards the library, where he had left his hat.
In a few moments more, the rattle of the wagon, with which he delivered
goods to the customers, was heard as he drove off. Don John came into
the hall, and Nellie asked him ever so many questions about the
condition of Michael, and what the doctor said about him; all of which
the young man answered to the best of his ability.
"Do you think he will die, Don John?" she asked.
"I am sure I can't tell," replied Donald; "I hope not."
"Michael is real good, and I am so sorry for him!" added Nellie.
But Michael is hardly a personage in our story, and we do not purpose to
enter into the diagnosis of his case. He has our sympathies on the merit
of his sufferings alone, and quite as much for Nellie's sake; for it was
tender, and gentle, and kind in her to feel so much for a poor Irish
laborer. While she and Donald were talking about the case, Mr. Hasbrook
came down stairs, and passed through the hall into the library, where
he, also, had left his hat. In a few moments more the rattle of his
wagon was heard, as he drove off, indignant and disgusted at the
indifference of the nabob in refusing to take an interest in his
brilliant enterprise. He was angry with himself for having paid his note
before he had enlisted the payee in his cause.
"How is he, father?" asked Nellie, as Captain Patterdale entered the
hall.
"The doctor thinks he sees some favorable symptoms."
"Will he die?"
"The doctor thinks he will get over it. But he wants some ice, and I
must get it for him."
"I suppose you will not go in the Sea Foam now?" asked Donald.
"No; it is impossible," replied the captain, as he passed into the
dining-room to the refrigerator.
The father was like the daughter; and though he was a _millionnaire_, or
a _demi-millionnaire_--we don't know which, for we were never allowed to
look over his taxable valuation--though he was a nabob, he took right
hold, and worked with his own hands for the comfort and the recovery of
the sufferer. It was creditable to his heart that he did so, and we
never grudge such a man his "pile," especially when he has earned it by
his own labor, or made it in honorable, legitimate business. The captain
went up stairs again with a large dish of ice, to assist the doctor in
the treatment of his patient.
Donald staid in the hall, talking with Miss Nellie, as long as he
thought it proper to do so, though not as long as he desired, and then
entered the library where he, also, had left his hat. Perhaps it was a
singular coincidence that all three of the visitors had left their hats
in that room; but then it was not proper for them to sit with their hats
on in the presence of such a magnate as Captain Patterdale, and no
decent man would stop for a hat when a person had fallen in a fit.
Captain Patterdale's hat was still there; and, unluckily, there was
something else belonging to him which was not there.