CAPTAIN SHIVERNOCK'S JOKE.
Donald considered himself shrewd, sharp, and smart, because he had
induced Laud virtually to own that Captain Shivernock had given him the
money to purchase his silence, but Donald was not half so shrewd, sharp,
and smart as he thought he was.
"Mr. Cavendish, it's no use for us to mince this matter," he continued,
determined further to draw out his companion, and feeling happy now, he
was very respectful to him.
"Perhaps not, Don John."
"It can do no harm for you and me to talk over this matter. You saw
Captain Shivernock on that Saturday morning--didn't you?"
"Of course, if I say I did, you will not let on about it--will you?"
"Not if I can help it; for the fact is, I am in the same boat with
you."
"Then you saw the captain."
"Of course I did."
"But what was he doing down there, that made him so particular to keep
shady about it?"
"I haven't the least idea. It was the morning after Hasbrook was pounded
to a jelly in his own house; but I am satisfied that the captain had
nothing to do with it."
"I am not so sure of that," added Laud.
"I am. I went to the captain's house before he returned that day, and
both Sykes and his wife told me he had left home at four o'clock that
morning, and this was after the pounding was done. Besides, the captain
was over on Long Island when I saw him. If he had done the deed, he
would have got home before daylight, for the wind was fresh and fair.
Instead of that, he was over at Turtle Head when I first saw him. The
Juno got aground with him near Seal Harbor, which made him so mad he
would not keep her any longer. He was mad because she wasn't a
centre-boarder. I suppose after we parted he went over to the
Lincolnville or Northport Shore, and hid till after dark in Spruce
Harbor, Saturday Cove, or some such place. At any rate, I was at his
house in the evening, when he came home."
"The old fellow had been up to some trick, you may depend upon it,"
added Laud, sagely.
"I came to the conclusion that his desire to keep dark was only a whim,
for he is the strangest man that ever walked the earth."
"That's so; but why should he give me such a pile if he hadn't been up
to something?"
"And me another pile," added Donald. "We can talk this thing over
between ourselves, but not a word to any other person."
"Certainly; I understand. I am paid for holding my tongue, and I intend
to do so honorably."
"So do I, until I learn that there is something wrong."
"You have told me some things I did not know before, Don John,"
suggested Laud.
"You knew that the captain was down by Long Island."
"Yes, but I didn't know he was at Turtle Head; and I am satisfied now
that he is the man that shook up Hasbrook that night," continued Laud,
in meditative mood.
"Are you? Then I will let the whole thing out," exclaimed Donald.
"No, no! don't do that!" protested Laud. "That wouldn't be fair, at
all."
"I would not be a party to the concealment of such an outrage."
"You don't understand it. Hasbrook is a regular swindler."
"That is no reason why he should be pounded half to death in the middle
of the night."
"He borrowed a thousand dollars of Captain Shivernock a short time
before the outrage. The captain told him he would lend him the money if
Hasbrook would give him a good indorser on the paper. After the captain
had parted with the money, he ascertained that the indorser was not
worth a dollar. Hasbrook had told him the name was that of a rich
farmer, and of course the captain was mad. He tried to get back his
money, for he knew Hasbrook never paid anything if he could help it.
Here is the motive for the outrage," reasoned Laud.
"Why didn't he prosecute him for swindling? for that's what it was."
"Captain Shivernock says he won't trouble any courts to fight his
battles for him; he can fight them himself."
"It was wrong to pound any man as Hasbrook was. Why, he wasn't able to
go out of the house for a month," added Donald, who was clearly opposed
to Lynch law.
Donald was somewhat staggered in his belief by the evidence of his
companion, but he determined to inquire further into the matter, and
even hoped now that Hasbrook would call upon him.
"One more question, Laud. Do you know where Captain Shivernock got the
bills he paid you, and you paid me?" asked he.
"Of course I don't. How should I know where the captain gets his money?"
replied Laud, in rather shaky tones.
"True; I didn't much think you would know."
"What odds does it make where he got the bills?" asked Laud, faintly.
"It makes a heap of odds."
"I don't see why."
"I'll tell you why. I paid three of those bills to Mr. Leach to-night
for the Maud's suit of sails. One of them was a mended bill."
"Yes, I remember that one, for I noticed it after the captain gave me
the money," added Laud.
"Mr. Leach paid that bill to Captain Patterdale."
"To Captain Patterdale!" exclaimed Laud, springing to his feet.
"What odds does it make to you whom he paid it to?" asked Donald,
astonished at this sudden demonstration.
"None at all," replied Laud, recovering his self-possession.
"What made you jump so, then?"
"A mosquito bit me," laughed Laud. But it was a graveyard laugh. "Leach
paid the bill to Captain Patterdale--you say?"
"Yes, and Captain Patterdale says there is something wrong about the
bill," continued Donald, who was far from satisfied with the explanation
of his companion.
"What was the matter? Wasn't the bill good?" inquired Laud.
"Yes, the bill was good; but something was wrong, he didn't tell me
what."
"That was an odd way to leave it. Why didn't he tell you what was
wrong?"
"I don't know. I suppose he knows what he is about, but I don't."
"I should like to know what was wrong about this bill. It has passed
through my hands, and it may affect my honor in some way," mused Laud.
"You had better have your honor insured, for it will get burned up one
of these days," added Donald, as he rose from his seat, and hauled in
his skiff, which was towing astern.
He stepped into the boat, and tossed Laud's basket to him.
"Here is your basket, Laud," added he. "It was my evidence against you;
and next time, when you want to burn a yacht, don't leave it on her
deck."
"You will keep shady--won't you, Don John?" he pleaded.
"That will depend upon what you say and do," answered Donald, as he
shoved off, and sculled to the wharf where the Maud lay, to assure
himself that she was in no danger.
He was not quite satisfied to trust her alone all night, and he decided
to sleep in her cabin. He went to the house, and told Barbara he was
afraid some accident might happen to the yacht, and with the lantern and
some bed-clothes, he returned to her. He swept up the half-burned
shavings, and threw them overboard. There was not a vestige of the fire
left, and he swabbed up the water with a sponge. Making his bed on the
transom, he lay down to think over the events of the evening. He went
to sleep after a while, and we will leave him in this oblivious
condition while we follow Laud Cavendish, who, it cannot be denied, was
in a most unhappy frame of mind. He ran the Juno up to her moorings, and
after he had secured her sail, and locked up the cabin door, he went on
shore. Undoubtedly he had done an immense amount of heavy thinking
within the last two hours, and as he was not overstocked with brains, it
wore upon him.
It was nearly ten o'clock in the evening, but late as it was, Laud
walked directly to the house of Captain Shivernock. There was a light in
the strange man's library, or office, and another in the dining-room,
where the housekeeper usually sat, which indicated that the family had
not retired. Laud walked up to the side door, and rang the bell, which
was promptly answered by Mrs. Sykes.
"Is Captain Shivernock at home?" asked the late visitor.
"He is; but he don't see anybody so late as this," replied the
housekeeper.
"I wish to speak to him on very important business, and it is absolutely
necessary that I should see him to-night," persisted Laud.
"I will tell him."
Mrs. Sykes did tell him, and the strange man swore he would not see any
one, not even his grandmother, come down from heaven. She reported this
answer in substance to Laud.
"I wish to see him on a matter in which he is deeply concerned," said
the troubled visitor. "Tell him, if you please, in regard to the
Hasbrook affair."
Perhaps Mrs. Sykes knew something about the Hasbrook affair herself, for
she promptly consented to make this second application for the admission
of the stranger, for such he was to her.
She returned in a few moments with an invitation to enter, and so it
appeared that there was some power in the "Hasbrook affair." Laud was
conducted to the library,--as the retired shipmaster chose to call the
apartment, though there were not a dozen books in it,--where the captain
sat in a large rocking-chair, with his feet on the table.
"Who are you?" demanded the strange man; and we are obliged to modify
his phraseology in order to make it admissible to our pages.
"Mr. Laud Cavendish, at your service," replied he, politely.
"_Mister_ Laud Cavendish!" repeated the captain, with a palpable sneer;
"you are the swell that used to drive the grocery wagon."
"I was formerly employed at Miller's store, but I am not there now."
"Well, what do you want here?"
"I wish to see you, sir."
"You do see me--don't you?" growled the eccentric. "What's your
business?"
"On the morning after the Hasbrook outrage, Captain Shivernock, you were
seen at Seal Harbor," said Laud.
"Who says I was?" roared the captain, springing to his feet.
"I beg your pardon sir; but I say so," answered Laud, apparently unmoved
by the violence of his auditor. "You were in the boat formerly owned by
Mr. Ramsay, and you ran over towards the Northport shore."
"Did you see me?"
"I did," replied Laud.
"And you have come to levy black-mail upon me," added the captain, with
a withering stare at his visitor.
"Nothing of the sort, sir. I claim to be a gentleman."
"O, you do!"
Captain Shivernock laughed heartily.
"I do, sir. I am not capable of anything derogatory to the character of
a gentleman."
"Bugs and brickbats!" roared the strange man, with another outburst of
laughter. "You are a gentleman! That's good! And you won't do anything
derogatory to the character of a gentleman. That's good, too!"
"I trust I have the instincts of a gentleman," added Laud, smoothing
down his jet mustache.
"I trust you have; but what do you want of me, if you have the instincts
of a gentleman, and don't bleed men with money when you think you have
them on the hip?"
"If you will honor me with your attention a few moments, I will inform
you what I want of you."
"Good again!" chuckled the captain. "I will honor you with my attention.
You have got cheek enough to fit out a life insurance agency."
"I am not the only one who saw you that Saturday morning," said Laud.
"Who else saw me?"
"Don John."
"How do you know he did?"
"He told mo so."
"The young hypocrite!" exclaimed the strange man, with an oath. "I made
it a rule years ago never to trust a man or a boy who has much to do
with churches and Sunday Schools. The little snivelling puppy! And he
has gone back on me."
"It is only necessary for me to state facts," answered Laud. "You can
form your own conclusions, without any help from me."
"Perhaps I can," added Captain Shivernock, who seemed to be in an
unusual humor on this occasion, for the pretentious manners of his
visitor appeared to amuse rather than irritate him.
"Again, sir, Jacob Hasbrook, of Lincolnville, believes you are the man
who pounded him to a jelly that night," continued Laud.
"Does he?" laughed the captain. "Well, that is a good joke; but I want
to say that I respect the man who did it, whoever he is."
"Self-respect is a gentlemanly quality. The man who don't respect
himself will not be respected by others," said Laud, stroking his chin.
"Eh?"
Laud confidently repeated the proposition.
"You respect yourself, and of course you respect the man that pounded
Hasbrook," he added.
"Do you mean to say I flogged Hasbrook?" demanded the strange man,
doubling his fist, and shaking it savagely in Laud's face.
"It isn't for me to say that you did, for you know better than I do; but
you will pardon me if I say that the evidence points in this direction.
Hasbrook has been over to Belfast several times to work up his case. The
last time I saw him he was looking for Don John, who, I am afraid, is
rather leaky."
In spite of his bluff manners, Laud saw that the captain was not a
little startled by the information just imparted.
"The miserable little psalm-singer," growled the strange man, walking
the room, muttering to himself. "If he disobeys my orders, I'll thrash
him worse than--Hasbrook was thrashed."
"It is unpleasant to be suspected of a crime, and revolting to the
instincts of a gentleman," added Laud.
"Do you mean to say that I am suspected of a crime, you long-eared
puppy?" yelled the captain.
"I beg your pardon, Captain Shivernock, but it isn't agreeable to a
gentleman to be called by such opprobrious names," said Laud, rising
from his chair, and taking his round-top hat from the table. "I am
willing to leave you, but not to be insulted."
Laud looked like the very impersonation of dignity itself, as he walked
towards the door.
"Stop!" yelled the captain.
"I do not know that any one but Hasbrook suspects you of a crime," Laud
explained.
"I'm glad he does suspect me," added the strange man, more gently.
"Whoever did that job served him just right, and I envy the man that did
it."
"Still, it is unpleasant to be suspected of a crime."
"It wasn't a crime."
"People call it so; but I sympathize with you, for like you I am
suspected of a crime, of which, like yourself, I am innocent."
"Are you, indeed? And what may your crime be, Mr. Cavendish?"
"It is in this connection that I wish to state my particular business
with you."
"Go on and state it, and don't be all night about it."
"I may add that I also came to warn you against the movements of
Hasbrook. I will begin at the beginning."
"Begin, then; and don't go round Cape Horn in doing it," snarled the
captain.
"I will, sir. Captain Patterdale--"
"Another miserable psalm-singer. Is he in the scrape?"
"He is, sir. He has lost a tin box, which contained nearly fourteen
hundred dollars in cash, besides many valuable papers."
"I'm glad of it; and I hope he never will find it," was the kindly
expression of the eccentric nabob for the Christian nabob. "Was the box
lost or stolen?"
"Stolen, sir."
"So much the better. I hope the thief will never be discovered."
Laud did not say how he happened to know that the tin box had been
stolen, for Captain Patterdale, the deputy sheriff, and Nellie were
supposed to be the only persons who had any knowledge of the fact.
"It appears that in this tin box there was a certain fifty-dollar bill,
which had been torn into four parts, and mended by pasting two strips of
paper upon it, one extending from right to left, and the other from top
to bottom, on the back."
"Eh?" interposed the wicked nabob. "Wait a minute."
The captain opened an iron safe in the room, and from a drawer took out
a handful of bank bills. From these he selected three, and tossed them
on the table.
"Like those?" he inquired, with interest.
"Exactly like them," replied Laud, astonished to find that each was the
counterpart of the one he had paid Donald for the Juno, and had the
"white cross of Denmark" upon it.
"Do you know how those bills happened to be in that condition, Mr.
Cavendish?" chuckled the captain.
"Of course I do not, sir."
"I'll tell you, my gay buffer. I have got a weak, soft place somewhere
in my gizzard; I don't know where; if I did, I'd cut it out. About three
months ago, just after I brought from Portland one hundred of these new
fifty-dollar bills, there was a great cry here for money for some
missionary concern. I read something in the newspaper, at this time,
about what some of the missionaries had done for a lot of sailors who
had been cast away on the South Sea Islands. I thought more of the
psalm-singers than ever before, and I was tempted to do something for
them. Well, I actually wrote to some parson here who was howling for
money, and stuck four of those bills between the leaves. I think it is
very likely I should have sent them to the parson, if I hadn't been
called out of the room. I threw the note, with the bills in it, on the
table, and went out to see a pair of horses a jockey had driven into the
yard for me to look at. When I came back and glanced at the note, I
thought what a fool I had been, to think of giving money to those
canting psalm-singers. I was mad with myself for my folly, and I tore
the note into four pieces before I thought that the bills were in it.
But Mrs. Sykes mended them as you see. Go on with your yarn, my buffer."
"That bill I paid to Don John for the Juno," continued Laud. "He paid it
to Mr. Leach, the sail-maker, who paid it to Captain Patterdale, and he
says it was one of the bills in the tin chest when it was stolen. Don
John says he had it from me."
"Precisely so; and that is what makes it unpleasant to be suspected of a
crime," laughed Captain Shivernock. "But you don't state where you got
the bill, Mr. Cavendish. Perhaps you don't wish to tell."
"I shall tell the whole story with the greatest pleasure," added Laud.
"I was sailing one day down by Haddock Ledge, when I saw a man tumble
overboard from a boat moored where he had been fishing. He was staving
drunk, and went forward, as I thought, to get up his anchor. The boat
rolled in the sea, and over he went. I got him out. The cold water
sobered him in a measure, and he was very grateful to me. He went to his
coat, which he did not wear when he fell, and took from his pocket a
roll of bills. He counted off ten fifties, and gave them to me. Feeling
sure that I had saved his life, I did not think five hundred dollars was
any too much to pay for it, and I took the money. I don't think he would
have given me so much if he hadn't been drunk. I asked him who he was,
but he would not tell me, saying he didn't want his friends in Boston
to know he had been over the bay, and in the bay; but he said he had
been staying in Belfast a couple of days."
"Good story!" laughed the wicked nabob.
"Every word of it is as true as preaching," protested Laud.
"Just about," added the captain, who hadn't much confidence in
preaching.
"You can see, Captain Shivernock, that I am in an awkward position,"
added Laud. "I have no doubt the man I saved was the one who stole the
tin box. He paid me with the stolen bills."
"It is awkward, as you say," chuckled the strange man. "I suppose you
wouldn't know the fellow you saved if you saw him."
"O, yes, I think I should," exclaimed Laud. "But suppose, when Captain
Patterdale comes to me to inquire where I got the marked bill, I should
tell him this story. He wouldn't believe a word of it."
"He would be a fool if he did," exclaimed Captain Shivernock, with a
coarse grin. "Therefore, my gay buffer, don't tell it to him."
"But I must tell him where I got the bill," pleaded Laud.
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the eccentric, shaking his sides as though they
were agitated by a young earthquake. "Tell him I gave you the bill!"
The captain seemed to be intensely amused at the novel idea; and Laud
did not object; on the contrary, he seemed to appreciate the joke. It
was midnight when he left the house, and went to the Juno to sleep in
her cabin. If he had gone home earlier in the evening, he might have
seen Captain Patterdale, who did him the honor to make a late call upon
him.