CHAPTER II.

ABOUT THE TIN BOX.

Captain Patterdale worked with the doctor for a full hour upon poor

Michael, who at the end of that time opened his eyes, and soon declared

that he was "betther entirely." He insisted upon getting up, for it was

not "the likes of himself that was to lay there and have his honor

workin' over him." But the doctor and the nabob pacified him, and left

him, much improved, in the care of his wife.

"How is he, Dr. Wadman?" asked the sympathizing Nellie, as they came

down stairs together.

"He is decidedly better," replied the physician.

"Will he die?"

"O, no; I think not. His case looks very hopeful now."

"I thought folks always died with sun-stroke," said Nellie, more

cheerfully.

"No; not unless their heads are very soft," laughed the doctor.

"Well, I shouldn't think Laud Cavendish would dare to go out when the

sun shines," added the fair girl, with a snap of her bright eyes.

"It isn't quite safe for him to do so. Unfortunately, such people don't

know their own heads. I will come in again after tea," said the doctor,

as he went out of the house, at the front door; for he had not left his

hat in the library.

"I am so glad Michael is better!" continued Nellie. "When I saw him

drop, I felt as cold as ice, and I was afraid I should drop too before I

could get to the library."

"Did you see him fall, Nellie?" asked her father.

"Yes; he gave a kind of groan, and then fell; he was--"

"Gracious!" exclaimed Captain Patterdale, interrupting her all of a

sudden.

He turned on his heel, and walked rapidly into the library. Nellie was

startled, and was troubled with a suspicion that her father had a _coup

de soleil_, or _coup de_ something-else; for he did not often do

anything by fits and starts. She followed him into the library. It was a

fact that the captain had left his hat there; but it was not for this

article, so necessary in a hot day, that he hastened thus abruptly into

the room. Nellie found him flying around the apartment in a high state

of excitement for him. He was looking anxiously about, and seemed to be

very much disturbed.

"What in the world is the matter, father?" asked Nellie.

"Where is your mother?"

"She has gone over to Mrs. Rodman's."

"Hasn't she been back?"

"No, certainly not; I was just going over to tell her what had happened

to Michael, when you came down."

"Who has been in here, Nellie?"

"I don't know that anybody has. I haven't seen any one. What's the

matter, father? what in the world has happened?"

"I left my tin box here when I went out to see to Michael, and now it is

gone," answered Captain Patterdale, anxiously. "I didn't know but that

your mother had come in and taken care of it."

"The tin box gone?" exclaimed Nellie. "Why, what can have become of it?"

"That is just what I should like to know," added the captain, as he

renewed his search in the room for the treasure chest.

It was not in the library, and then he looked in the great hall and in

the little hall, in the drawing-room, the sitting-room, and the

dining-room; but it was not in any of these. He knew he had left it on

the chair near where he was sitting when he went out of the room. Then

he examined the spring-lock on the door of the library which led into

the side street. It was closed and securely fastened. The door shut

itself with a patent invention, and when shut it locked itself, so that

anybody could get out, but no one could get in unless admitted.

"Where were you when I was up stairs, Nellie?" asked Captain Patterdale,

as he seated himself in his arm-chair, to take a cool view of the whole

subject.

"I was in the hall most of the time," she replied.

"Who has been in the library?"

"Let me see; Laud Cavendish came down first, and went out through the

library."

The captain rubbed his bald head, and seemed to be asking himself

whether it was possible for Mr. Laud Cavendish to do so wicked a deed as

stealing that tin box. He did not believe the young swell had the

baseness or the daring to commit so great a crime. It might be, but he

could not think so.

"Who else has been in here?" he inquired, when he had hastily considered

all he knew about the moral character of Laud.

"That other man who was with you--I don't know his name--the one that

was here when I came in with Don John."

"Mr. Hasbrook."

"He went out through the library. I thought he looked real ugly too,"

added Nellie. "He kept fidgeting about all the time I was here."

"And all the time he was here himself. He went out through the

library--did he?"

"Yes, sir."

Captain Patterdale mentally overhauled the character of Mr. Hasbrook. It

was unfortunate for his late debtor that his character was not first

class, and between him and Laud Cavendish the probabilities were

altogether against Hasbrook. He had evidently been vexed and angry

because he failed to carry his point, and his cupidity might have been

stimulated by revenge. But the captain was a fair and just man, and in a

matter of this kind, involving the reputation of any person, he kept his

suspicions to himself.

"Who else has been in the library, Nellie?" he asked.

"No one but Don John," replied she. And whatever Laud or Hasbrook might

have done in wickedness, Nellie had too much regard for her friend and

schoolmate to admit for one instant the possibility of his doing

anything wrong, much less his committing so gross a crime as the

stealing of the tin box and its valuable contents.

Captain Patterdale was hardly less confident of the integrity of Donald.

Certainly it was not necessary to suspect him when the possibilities of

guilt included two such persons as Laud and Hasbrook. Donald was rather

distinguished, in school and out, as a good boy, and he ought to have

the full benefit of his reputation.

"You don't think Don John took the box--do you, father?" asked Nellie,

as her father was meditating on the circumstances.

"Certainly not, Nellie," protested the captain, warmly; "I don't know

that anybody has taken it."

"I know Don John would not do such a thing."

"I don't believe he would."

"I know he would not."

Her father thought she was just a little more earnest in her

uncalled-for defence of the young man than was necessary, and for the

first time in his life it occurred to him that she was more interested

in him than he wished her to be; for, as Donald was only the son of a

poor boat-builder, such a strong friendship might be embarrassing in the

future. However, this was only the shadow of a passing thought, which

divided his attention only for a moment. The loss of the tin box was the

question of the hour, and "society" topics were not just then in order.

"I have no idea that Don John took the box," replied Captain Patterdale.

"I am more willing to believe either of the other two who were in the

library took it than that he did. But he was the last of the three who

went out through this room. He may be able to give me some information,

and I will go down and see him. He and his father were going off in the

new yacht--were they not?"

"Yes, sir."

"You need not say a word about the box to any one, Nellie, nor even that

it is lost," added the captain. "If I do not find it, I shall employ a

skilful detective to look it up, and he may prefer to work in the dark."

"I will not mention it, father," replied Nellie. "What was in the box?

Was it money?"

"I put thirteen hundred and fifty dollars into it, but I took out twenty

to pay the bill that Laud brought. It contains my deeds, leases,

policies of insurance, and my notes, and these papers are really more

valuable to me than the money. Luckily, my bonds and securities are in

another box, in the vault of the bank."

"Then you will lose over thirteen hundred dollars if you don't find the

box?"

"More than that, I am afraid, for I shall hardly be able to collect all

the money due on the notes if I lose them," replied the captain, as he

left the house.

He walked down to the boat shop of Mr. Ramsay. It was on the shore, and

near it was the house in which the boat-builder lived. Neither Don John

nor his father was at the shop, but a sloop yacht, half a mile out in

the bay, seemed to be the Sea Foam. She was headed towards the shore,

however, and Captain Patterdale seated himself in the shade of the shop

to await its arrival, though he hardly expected to obtain any

information in regard to the box from Donald. While he was sitting

there, Mr. Laud Cavendish appeared with a large basket in his hand. The

counter-jumper started when he turned the corner of the shop, and saw

the nabob seated there.

"Going a-fishing?" asked the captain.

"Yes, sir; I'm going over to Turtle Head to camp out over Sunday,"

replied Laud. "How is Michael, sir?"

"He is much better, and is doing very well."

"I'm glad of it," added Laud, as he carried his basket down to a

sail-boat which was partly aground, and deposited it in the forward

cuddy.

Captain Patterdale wanted to talk with Laud, but he did not like to

excite any suspicions on his part. If the young man had taken the box

he would not be likely to go off on an island to stay over Sunday.

Besides, it was evident from the position of the boat, and the fact that

it contained several articles necessary for a fishing excursion, in

addition to those in the basket, that Laud had made his arrangements for

the trip before he visited the library of the elegant mansion. If he had

taken the box, he would probably have changed his plans. It was not

likely, therefore, that Laud was the guilty party.

"Are you going alone?" asked the captain, walking down the beach to the

boat.

"Yes, sir; I couldn't get any one to go with me. I tried Don John, but

he won't go off to stay over Sunday," replied Laud, with a sickly grin.

"I commend his example to you. I don't think it is a good way to spend

Sunday."

"It's the only time I can get to go. I've been trying to got off for a

month."

"Saturday must be a bad time for you to leave," suggested the captain.

"It is rather bad," added Laud, as he shoved off the bow of the boat,

for he seemed to be in haste to get away.

"By the way, Laud, did you notice a tin box in my library when you were

there this afternoon?" asked the nabob, with as much indifference in his

manner and tone as he could command.

"A tin box?" repeated Laud, busying himself with the jib of the

sail-boat.

"Yes; it was painted green."

"I don't remember any box," answered Laud.

"Didn't you see it? I opened it to take out the money I paid you."

"I didn't mind. I was receipting the bill while you were getting the

money ready. You know I sat down at your desk."

"Yes; I know you did; but didn't you see the box?"

"No, sir; I don't remember seeing any box," said Laud, still fussing

over the sail, which certainly did not need any attention.

"You went out through the library when you came down from Michael's

room--didn't you?" continued the captain.

"Yes, sir; I did. I left my hat in there."

"Did you see the box then?"

"Of course I didn't. If I had, I should have remembered it," replied

Laud, with a grin. "I just grabbed my hat, and ran, for I had been in

the house some time; and I got a blessing for being away so long when I

went back to the store."

"You didn't see the box, then?"

"If it was there, I suppose I saw it; but I didn't take any notice of

it. Why? is the box lost?"

"I want to get another like it. Haven't you anything of the sort in the

store?"

"We have some cake and spice boxes. They are tin, and painted on the

outside."

"Those will not answer the purpose. It's a very hot day," added the

captain, as he wiped the perspiration from his face, and walked back to

the shade of the shop.

Mr. Laud Cavendish stepped into the sail-boat, hoisted the sails, and

shoved her off into deep water with an oar. Captain Patterdale thought,

and then he did not know what to think. Was it possible Laud had not

noticed that tin box, which had been on a chair out in the middle of

the room? If he had not, why, then he had not; but if he had Laud had

more cunning, more self-control, and more ingenuity than the captain had

ever given him the credit, or the discredit, of possessing, for there

was certainly no sign of guilt in his tone or his manner, except that he

did not look the inquirer square in the face when he answered his

questions, though some guilty people can even do this without wincing.

Captain Patterdale watched the departing and the approaching boats,

still considering the possible relation of Laud Cavendish to the tin

box. If the fellow had stolen it, he would not go off on an island to

stay over Sunday, leaving the box behind to betray him; and this

argument seemed to be conclusive in his favor. The captain had looked

into the boat, and satisfied himself that the box was not there; unless

it was in the basket, which appeared to contain so many other things

that there was no room for it. On the whole, the captain was willing to

acquit Mr. Laud Cavendish of the act, partly, perhaps, because this had

been his first view of the matter. It was more probable that Hasbrook,

angry and disappointed at his failure, had put the box into his wagon,

and returned to the neighboring town, where, as before stated, his

reputation was not first class, though, perhaps, not many people

believed him capable of stealing outright, without the formality of

getting up a mining company, or making a trade of some sort. But Donald

had been the last of the trio of visitors who passed through the

library, and the captain wanted to see him.

The Sea Foam, with snowy sails just from the loft, and glittering in her

freshly-laid coat of white paint, ran up to a wharf just below the boat

shop. Donald was at the helm, and he threw her up into the wind just

before she came to the pier, so that when she forged ahead, with her

sails shaking in the wind, her head came up within a few inches of the

landing-place. Mr. Ramsay fended her off, and went ashore with a line in

his hand, which he made fast to a ring. Captain Patterdale walked around

to the wharf, as soon as he saw where she was to make a landing.

"Well, how do you like her, Sam?" said Donald to a young man of his own

age in the standing-room with him.

"First rate; and I hope your father will go to work on mine at once,"

replied the passenger.

"You will lay down the keel on Monday--won't you, father?"

"What?" asked Mr. Ramsay, who had seated himself on a log on the wharf.

"You will lay down the keel of the boat for Mr. Rodman on Monday--won't

you?" repeated Donald.

"Yes, if I am able; I don't feel very well to-day." And the boat-builder

doubled himself up, as though he was in great pain.

The young man in the standing-room of the Sea Foam was Samuel Rodman, a

schoolmate of Donald, whose father was a wealthy man, and had ordered

another boat like the Skylark, which had been the model for the new

yacht. He had come down to see the craft, and had been invited to take a

sail in her; but an engagement had prevented him from going as far as

Turtle Head, and the boat-builder and his son had returned to land him,

intending still to make the trip. By this time Captain Patterdale had

reached the end of the wharf. He went on board of the Sea Foam, and

looked her over with a critical eye, and was entirely satisfied with

her. He was invited to sail in her for as short a time as he chose, but

he declined.

"By the way, Donald, did you see the green tin box when you were in my

library this afternoon?" he asked, when all the topics relating to the

yacht had been disposed of.

"Yes, sir; I saw you take some money from it," replied Donald.

"Then you remember the box?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you notice it when you came out--I mean, when you left the house?"

"I don't remember seeing it when I came out," answered Donald, wondering

what these questions meant.

"I want to get another box just like that one. Did you take particular

notice of it?"

"No, sir; I can't say I did."

"You didn't stay any time in the library after you came down from

Michael's room, did you?"

"No, sir; I only went for my hat, and didn't stay there a minute."

"And you didn't notice the tin box?"

"No, sir; I didn't see it at all when I came out."

"Then of course you didn't see any marks upon it," added the captain,

with a smile.

"If I didn't see the box, I shouldn't have been likely to see the

marks," laughed Donald. "What marks were they, sir?"

"It's of no consequence, if you didn't see them. The box was in the

library--wasn't it?--when you went out."

"I don't know whether it was or not. I only know that I don't remember

noticing it," said Donald, who thought the captain's question was a very

queer one, after those he had just answered.

The nabob was no better satisfied with Donald's answers than he had been

with those of Laud Cavendish, except that the former looked him full in

the face when he spoke. He obtained no information, and went home to

seek it at other sources.

"I think I won't go out again, Donald," said Mr. Ramsay, when Captain

Patterdale had left. "I don't feel very well, and you may go alone."

"Do you feel very sick, father?" asked the son, in tones of sympathy.

"No; but I think I will go into the house and take some medicine. You

can run over to Turtle Head alone," added the boat-builder, as he walked

towards the house.

"Can't you go any how, Sam?" said Donald, turning to his friend.

"No, I must go home now. I have to drive over to Searsport after my

sister," replied Sam, as he left the yacht, and walked up the wharf.

Donald hoisted the jib of the Sea Foam, shoved off her head, and laid

her course, with the wind over the quarter, for Turtle Head--distant

about seven miles.

The Yacht Club; or, The Young Boat-Builder · 第 2 / 18 章