LAYING DOWN THE KEEL.
"What are you doing here, Don John?" demanded Captain Shivernock, as he
ascended the steps of the piazza.
"I came to see you, sir," replied Donald, respectfully.
"Well, you see me--don't you?"
"I do, sir."
"Have you been talking to Sykes and his wife?" asked the captain,
sternly.
"I have, sir."
"Have you told them that you saw me on the island?"
"No, sir; not them, nor anybody else."
"It's well for you that you haven't," added the captain, shaking his
head--a significant gesture, which seemed to relate to the future,
rather than to the present. "If you lisp a syllable of it, you will
need a patch on your skull.--Now," he continued, "what do you want of
me?"
"I wanted to talk about the Juno with you. Perhaps I can find a customer
for you."
"Come into the house," growled the captain, as he stalked through the
door.
Donald followed him into a sitting-room, on one side of which was a
secretary, provided with a writing-desk. The captain tossed his cap and
overcoat into a chair, and seated himself at the desk. He picked up a
quill pen, and began to write as though he intended to scratch a hole
through the paper, making noise enough for a small locomotive. He
finished the writing, and signed his name to it. Then he cast the
contents of a sand-box upon it, returning to it the portion which did
not adhere to the paper. The document looked as though it had been
written with a handspike, or as though the words had been ploughed in,
and a furrow of sand left to form the letters.
"Here!" said the captain, extending the paper to his visitor, with a
jerk, as though he was performing a most ungracious office.
"What is it, sir?" asked Donald, as he took the document.
"Can't you read?" growled the strange man.
Under ordinary circumstances Donald could read--could read writing when
not more than half the letters were merged into straight lines; but it
required all his skill, and not a little of his Scotch-Yankee guessing
ability, to decipher the vagrant, staggering characters which the
captain had impressed with so much force upon the paper. It proved to be
a bill of sale of the Juno, in due form, and for the consideration of
three hundred dollars.
"Surely you cannot mean this, Captain Shivernock?" exclaimed the amazed
young man.
"Can't I? Do you think I'm a lunatic?" stormed the captain.
Donald did think so, but he was not so imprudent as to say it.
"I can't pay you three hundred dollars for the boat," pleaded he.
"Nobody asked you to pay a red cent. The boat is yours. If you don't
want her, sell her to the first man who is fool enough to buy her.
That's all."
"I'm very grateful to you for your kindness, Captain Shivernock; and I
hope--"
"All stuff!" interposed the strange man, savagely. "You are like the
rest of the world, and next week you would be as ready to kick me as any
other man would be, if you dared to do so. You needn't stop any longer
to talk that sort of bosh to me. It will do for Sunday Schools and
prayer meetings."
"But I am really--"
"No matter if you are really. Shut up!"
"I hope I shall be able to do something to serve you."
"Bah!"
"Have you heard the news, Captain Shivernock?" asked Donald, suddenly
changing the topic.
"What news?"
"It's in the _Age_. A man over in Lincolnville, by the name of Hasbrook,
was taken out of his bed last night, and severely beaten."
"Hasbrook! Served him right!" exclaimed the captain, with a rough string
of profanity, which cooled the blood of the listener. "He is the biggest
scoundrel in the State of Maine, and I am much obliged to the man who
did it. I would have taken a hand with him at the game, if I had been
there."
[Illustration: THE BILL OF SALE. Page 119.]
This was equivalent to saying that he was not there.
"Do you know this Hasbrook?" asked Donald.
"Do I know him? He swindled me out of a thousand dollars, and I ought to
know him. If the man that flogged him hasn't finished him, I'll pound
him myself when I catch him in the right place," replied the strange
man, violently. "Who did the job, Don John?"
"I don't know, sir. He hasn't been discovered yet."
"If he is discovered, I'll give him five hundred dollars, and pay the
lawyers for keeping him out of jail. I wish I had done it myself; it
would make me feel good."
Donald was entirely satisfied that Captain Shivernock had not done it.
He was pleased, even rejoiced, that his investigation had resulted so
decidedly in the captain's favor, for he would have been very sorry to
feel obliged to disregard the injunction of secrecy which had been
imposed upon him.
"Did you fall in with any one after we parted this morning?" asked
Donald, who desired to know whether the captain had met Laud Cavendish
when the two boats appeared to be approaching each other.
"None of your business!" rudely replied the captain, after gazing a
moment into the face of the young man, as if to fathom his purpose in
asking the question. "Do you think the world won't move on if you don't
wind it up? Mind your own business, and don't question me. I won't have
anybody prying into my affairs."
"Excuse me, sir; I don't wish to pry into your affairs; and with your
permission I will go home now," replied Donald.
"You have my permission to go home," sneered the strange man; and Donald
availed himself of it without another instant's delay.
Certainly Captain Shivernock was a very strange man, and Donald could
not begin to understand why he had given him the Juno and the sixty
dollars in cash. It was plain enough that he had not been near
Hasbrook's house, though it was not quite clear how, if he left home at
four o'clock, he had got aground eight miles from the city at the same
hour; but there was probably some error in Donald's reckoning. The young
man went home, and, on the way, having assured himself, to his own
satisfaction, that he had no painful duty in regard to the captain to
perform, he soon forgot all about the matter in the more engrossing
consideration of his great business enterprise. When he entered the
cottage, his mother very naturally asked him where he had been; and he
gave her all the details of his interview with Mr. Rodman. Mrs. Ramsay
was more cheerful than she had been before since the death of her
husband, and they discussed the subject till bed time. Donald had
seventy-two dollars in his pocket, including his fees for measuring the
yachts. It was a new experience for him to keep anything from his
mother; but he felt that he could not honorably tell her what had passed
between the captain and himself. He could soon work the money into his
business, and he need keep it only till Monday. He did not feel just
right about it, even after he had convinced himself that he ought not to
reveal Captain Shivernock's secret to her; but I must add,
confidentially, that it is always best for boys--I mean young men--to
tell their mothers "all about it;" and if Donald had done so in this
instance, no harm would have come of the telling, and it might have
saved him a great deal of trouble, and her a great deal of anxiety, and
a great many painful doubts. Donald thought his view was correct; he
meant to do exactly right; and he had the courage to do it, even if
thereby he incurred the wrath and the vengeance of the strange man.
I have no doubt, from what indications I have of the character of Donald
Ramsay, that he tried to learn his Sunday School lesson, tried to give
attention to the sermons he heard, and tried to be interested in the
good books he essayed to read on Sunday; but I am not sure that he
succeeded entirely, for the skeleton frame of the Maud would rise up in
his imagination to cloud the vision of higher things, and the
remembrance of his relations with Captain Shivernock would thrust itself
upon him. Yet it is a great deal even to try to be faithful in one's
thoughts, and Donald was generally more successful than on this
occasion, for it was not often that he was excited by events so stirring
and prospects so brilliant. A single week would be time enough to
accustom the young boat-builder to his occupation and restore his mental
equilibrium.
The light of Monday morning's sun was very welcome to him; and when only
its light gleamed in the gray east, he rose from his bed to begin the
labors of the day. His father had enlarged the shop, so that he could
build a yacht of the size of the Maud under its roof; and before
breakfast time, he had prepared the bed, and levelled the blocks on
which the keel was to rest. At seven o'clock Lawrence Kennedy appeared,
and together they looked over the stock on hand, and made out a list of
the pieces of timber and plank that would be required. At first the
journeyman was inclined to take the lead in the business; but he soon
found that his youthful employer was entirely familiar with the minutest
details of the work, and knew precisely how to get out every stick of
the frame. Donald constantly referred to the model of the Sea Foam,
which he had already altered in accordance with the suggestions of his
father, using the inch scale on which the model was projected, to get
the size of the pieces, so that there should be no unnecessary waste in
buying.
Kennedy went with him to the lumber wharf, where the stock was carefully
selected for the frame. Before dinner it was carted over to the shop,
and in the afternoon the work was actually commenced. The keelson, with
the aperture for the centre-board nicely adjusted, was laid down,
levelled, and blocked up, so that the yacht should be as true as a hair
when completed. The next steps were to set up the stern-post and the
stem-piece, and Mr. Ramsay's patterns of these timbers were ready for
use. Donald was tired enough to rest when the clock struck six; but no
better day's work for two men could be shown than that performed by him
and his journeyman. Another hand could now work to advantage on the
frame, and Kennedy knew of a first-rate workman who desired employment.
He was requested to have him in the shop the next morning.
After supper, Donald went back to the shop to study, rather than to
work. He seated himself on the bench, and was thinking over the details
of the work, when, through the window, he saw Laud Cavendish run his
sail-boat alongside the Juno, which was moored a short distance from the
shore. Laud wanted to buy a boat, and Donald wanted to sell one. More
than once he had been tempted to keep the Juno for his own use; but he
decided that he could not afford such a luxury, even though she had cost
him nothing. If he kept her, he would desire to use her, and he might
waste too much of his precious time in sailing her. It would cost money
as well as time to keep her; for boats are always in need of paint,
spars, sails, rigging, and other repairs. He was resolute in his purpose
to dispose of the Juno, lest the possession of her should demoralize
him, and interfere with his attention to business.
It was plain enough to Donald that he must sell the Juno, though it was
not as clear that Laud Cavendish could buy her; but he decided to see
him, and, launching his tender, he pulled out for the Juno. While he was
plying his oars, it suddenly came across the mind of the young
boat-builder that he could not sell this boat without exposing his
relations to Captain Shivernock. He was rather startled by the thought,
but, before he had followed it out to a conclusion, the tender was
alongside the Juno.
"How are you, Don John?" said Laud. "I thought I would come down and
look over the Juno."
"She is a first-rate boat," replied Donald.
"And the captain wants to sell her?"
"She's for sale," replied her owner.
"What's the price of her?"
"Four hundred."
"That's too steep, Don John. It is of no use for me to look at her if
the captain won't sell her for less than that."
"Say three fifty, then," replied Donald.
"Say three hundred."
"She is worth more money," continued the owner, as he unlocked the
cuddy. "She has a fine cabin, fitted up like a parlor. Go in and look
round."
Donald led the way, and pointed out all the conveniences of the cabin,
eloquently setting forth the qualities of the boat and her
accommodations.
"I'll give three hundred for her," said Laud.
"She is worth more than that," replied Donald. "Why, she cost the
captain over five hundred; and I wouldn't build her for a mill less than
that."
"You?" laughed Laud.
"I'm building a yacht thirty feet long for Sam Rodman; and I'm to have
twelve hundred for her," answered Donald, struggling to be modest.
"You are some punkins--ain't you, Don John?"
"I can't quite come up to you, Mr. Cavendish."
"Perhaps you will when you are as old as I am."
"Possibly; but it's a big height to reach in two years. A man of your
size ought not to haggle for fifty dollars on a boat."
"I can't afford to give more than three hundred for the Juno," protested
Laud, very decidedly.
"Can you afford to give that?" asked Donald, with a smile.
Laud looked at him sharply, and seemed to be somewhat embarrassed.
"I suppose I can't really afford it; but what's life for? We can't live
it over again, and we ought to make the best of it. Don't you think so?"
"Certainly--the best of it; but there may be some difference of opinion
in regard to what the best of it may be."
"I mean to be a gentleman, and not a philosopher. I go in for a good
time. Will you take three hundred for the boat? or will you tell the
captain I will give that?"
"I can sell her without going to him. I haven't offered her to anybody
but you, and I have no doubt I can get my price for her."
Laud talked till it was nearly dark; but Donald was firm, and at last he
carried his point.
"I will give the three hundred and fifty, because I want her very badly;
but it's a big price," said Laud.
"It's dog cheap," added Donald, who was beginning to think how he should
manage the business without informing the purchaser that the Juno was
his own property.
Donald was a young man of many expedients, and he finally decided to ask
Captain Shivernock to exchange the bill of sale for one conveying the
boat directly to Laud Cavendish. This settled, he wondered how Laud
expected to pay for his purchase, for it was utterly incredible to him
that the swell could command so large a sum as three hundred and fifty
dollars. After all, perhaps it would not be necessary to trouble the
captain about the business, for Donald did not intend to give a bill of
sale without the cash.
"When do you want to close the trade?" he asked.
"I thought we had closed it," replied Laud.
"You want a bill of sale--don't you?"
"No, I don't; I would rather not have one. When I get the boat, I know
how to keep her. Besides, you will be a witness that I have bought her."
"That isn't the way to do business," protested Donald.
"If I'm satisfied, you need not complain. If I pay you the cash down,
that ends the matter."
"If you do."
"Well, I will; here and now," added Laud, pulling out his wallet.
"Where did you get so much money, Laud?" asked Donald.
It was doubtless an impertinent question, but it came from the heart of
him who proposed it; and it was not resented by him to whom it was put.
On the contrary, Laud seemed to be troubled, rather than indignant.
"Don John, you are a good fellow," said Laud, after a long pause.
"Of course I am."
"For certain reasons of my own, I want you to keep this trade to
yourself."
"Why so?"
"I can't tell you."
"Then I won't do it. If there is any hitch about the money, I won't have
anything to do with it."
"Any hitch? What do you mean by that?" demanded Laud, with a lofty air.
"It's no use to mince the matter, Laud. Three hundred and fifty dollars
don't grow on every bush in your or my garden; and I have been
wondering, all the time, where a fellow like you should get money enough
to buy a boat like the Juno."
Donald said all this fairly and squarely; but it occurred to him just
then, that after he had sold the boat, any one might ask him the same
question, and he should not feel at liberty to answer it.
"Do you mean to insult me?" demanded Laud.
"Nothing of the sort; and you needn't ride that high horse. I won't sell
the boat till I know where the money came from."
"Do you doubt my honor?"
"Confound your honor! I think we have said enough."
"If you mean to say that I didn't come honorably by my money, you are
mistaken."
"Where did you get it, then?"
"Are you always willing to tell where you get every dollar in your
pocket?" retorted Laud.
That was a home-thrust, and Donald felt it in his trowsers pocket, where
he kept his wallet.
"I am generally ready to tell where I get my money," he replied, but he
did not speak with much energy.
Laud looked about him, and seemed to be considering the matter.
"I don't like to be accused of stealing," mused he.
"I don't accuse you of anything," added Donald.
"It's the same thing. If I tell you where I got this money, will you
keep it to yourself?" asked Laud.
"If it's all right I will."
"Honor bright, Don John?"
"If it's all right."
"O, it is!" protested Laud. "I will tell you; but you must keep the
secret, whatever happens."
"I will, if everything is as it should be."
"Well, Captain Shivernock gave it to me," said Laud, in confidential
tones, and after looking about to satisfy himself that no third person
was within hearing.
"Captain Shivernock!" exclaimed Donald.
"Just so."
"What for?"
"I can't tell you any more. The captain would kill me if he found out
that I had told you so much," answered Laud. "I don't understand the
matter myself; but the captain gave me that money and fifty dollars
more;" and he handed Donald the price of the Juno. "You are not to say
that I have even seen the captain."
"When was this?"
"Last Saturday; but that's all; not another word from me."
"It's very odd," mused Donald.
"You will keep still--won't you?"
"Yes; until I am satisfied the thing is not all right."
"I shall not say that I own the Juno yet a while," added Laud, as he
returned to the boat in which he had come.
Donald pulled ashore, with the money in his pocket.