THE UNEXPECTED
The finding of one of Cap'n Amazon's amazing narratives of personal
prowess in the old scrapbook shocked Louise Grayling. The mystery of
the thing made alert her brain and awoke in the girl vague suspicions
that troubled her for hours. Indeed, it was long that night before she
could get to sleep.
During these days of acquaintanceship and familiarity with the old sea
captain she had learned to love him so well for his good qualities that
it was easy for her to forgive his faults. If he "drew the long bow"
in relating his adventures, his niece was prepared to excuse the
failing.
There was, too, an explanation of this matter, and one not at all
improbable. The reporter of the _Mercury_ claimed to have taken down
the story of the black man who had fought a shark for the life of his
dog just as it fell from the lips of an ancient mariner. This mariner
might have been Cap'n Amazon Silt himself. Why not? The captain might
have been more modest in relating his personal connection with the
incident when talking with the reporter than he had been in relating
the story to his niece.
Still, even with this suggested explanation welcomed to her mind,
Louise Grayling was puzzled. She went through the entire scrapbook,
skimming the stories there related, to learn if any were familiar. But
no. She found nothing to suggest any of the other tales Cap'n Amazon
had related in her hearing. And it was positive that her uncle had not
read this particular story of the black man and the black dog since
coming to the store on the Shell Road, for Louise had had possession of
the book.
Therefore she was quite as mystified when she fell asleep at dawn as
she had been when first her discovery was made. She was half
determined to probe for an explanation of the coincidence when she came
downstairs to a late breakfast. But no good opportunity presented
itself for the broaching of any such inquiry.
She wished to make preparations for the fishing party in the _Merry
Andrew_, and that kept her in the kitchen part of the day. She baked a
cake and made filling for sandwiches.
Betty Gallup accepted the invitation to accompany Louise on the sloop
without hesitation. She approved of Lawford Tapp. Yet she dropped
nothing in speaking of the young man to open Louise's eyes to the fact
that he was the son of a multi-millionaire.
The activities of the moving picture company increased on this day; but
it was not until the following morning, when Louise went shoreward with
the tackle and the smaller lunch basket, that she again saw Mr. Judson
Bane to speak to. As she sat upon the thwart of the old skiff where
Washy Gallup had mended his net, the handsome leading man of the
picture company strolled by.
Bane certainly made a picturesque fisherman, whether he looked much
like the native breed or not. An open-air studio had been arranged on
the beach below the Bozewell bungalow, and Louise could see a director
trying to give a number of actors his idea of what a group of fishermen
mending their nets should look like.
"He should engage old Washy Gallup to give color to the group," Louise
said to Bane, laughing.
"Anscomb is having his own troubles with that bunch," sighed the
leading man. "Some of them never saw a bigger net before than one to
catch minnows. Do you sail in this sloop I see coming across from the
millionaire's villa, Miss Grayling?"
"Yes," Louise replied. "Mr. Tapp is kind enough to take us fishing."
"You are, then, one of these fortunate creatures," and Bane's sweeping
gesture indicated that he referred to the occupants of the cottages set
along the bluff above The Beaches, "who toil not, neither do they spin.
I fancied you might be one of us. Rather, I've heard that down here."
"That surmise gained coinage when I first arrived at Cardhaven," Louise
said, dimpling. "I did nothing to discourage the mistake, and I
presume Gusty Durgin still believes I pose before the camera."
"Gusty has aspirations that way herself," chuckled Bane. "She is a
character."
"I wonder what kind of screen actress I would make?"
He smiled down at her rather grimly. "The kind the directors call the
appealing type, I fancy, Miss Grayling. Though I have no doubt you
would do much better than most. Making big eyes at a camera is the
limit of art achieved by many of our feminine screen stars. I do not
expect to put in a very pleasant summer amid my present surroundings."
"Oh, then you are here for more than one picture."
"Several, if the weather proves propitious. I shall play the fisherman
hero, or the villain, until my manager has my new play ready in the
fall. Believe me, Miss Grayling, I am not in love with this picture
drama. But when one is offered for his resting season half as much
again as he can possibly earn during the run of a legitimate Broadway
production he must not be blamed for accepting the contract. We all
bow to the power of gold."
Louise, whose gaze was fixed upon the approaching sloop, smiled. She
was thinking; "All but Lawford Tapp, the philosophic fisherman!"
"I believe," Bane said, with flattery, "that I should delight to play
opposite to you, Miss Grayling, rank amateur though you would be. This
Anscomb really is a wonderful director and gets surprising results from
material that cannot compare with you. I'll speak to him if you say
the word. He'd oblige me, I am sure. One of the scripts he has told
me about has a part fitted to you."
"Oh, Mr. Bane!" she cried. "I'd have to think about that, I fear. And
such a tempting offer! Now, if you said that to Gusty Durgin----"
At the moment Betty Gallup came into view. Masculine in appearance at
any time in her man's hat and coat, she was doubly so now. She frankly
wore overalls, but had drawn a short skirt over them; and she wore gum
boots. Bane stared at this apparition and gasped:
"Is--is it a man--or what?"
"Why, Mr. Bane! That is my chaperon."
"Chaperon! Ye gods and little fishes! Miss Grayling, no matter where
you go, or with whom, you are perfectly safe with _that_ as a chaperon."
"How rediculous, Mr. Bane!" the girl cried, laughing. Betty strode
through the sand to the spot where they stood. "This is Mr. Bane,
Betty," Louise continued, "Mrs. Gallup, Mr. Bane."
The actor swept off his sou'wester with a flourish. Betty eyed him
with disfavor.
"So you're one o' them play-actors, be you? Land sakes! And tryin' to
look like a fisherman, too! I don't s'pose you know a grommet from the
bight of a hawser."
"Guilty as charged," Bane admitted with a chuckle. "But we all must
live, Mrs. Gallup."
"Humph!" grunted the old woman. "Are you sure that's so in ev'ry case?
There's more useless folks on the Cape now than the Recordin' Angel can
well take care on."
"Oh, Betty!" Louise gasped.
But Bane was highly amused. "I'm not at all sure you're not right,
Mrs. Gallup. I sometimes feel that if I were a farmer and raised
onions, or a fisherman and caught the denizens of the sea, I might feel
a deeper respect for myself. As it is, when I work I am only
_playing_."
"Humph!" exploded Betty again. "'Denizens of the sea,' eh? New one on
me. I ain't never heard of _them_ fish afore."
The sail of the sloop slatted and then came down with the rattle of new
canvas. Having let go the sheet, Lawford ran forward and pitched the
anchor over. Then he drew in the skiff that trailed the _Merry
Andrew_, stepped in, and sculled himself ashore, beaching the boat,
just as Cap'n Amazon came down from the store with a second basket of
supplies.
"Wish I was goin' with ye," he said heartily. "Would, too, if I could
shut up shop. But I promised Abe I'd stay by the ship till he come
home again."
Louise introduced her uncle to Mr. Bane; but during the bustle of
getting into the skiff and pushing off she overlooked the fact that
Lawford and the actor were not introduced.
"Bring us home a mess of tautog," Cap'n Amazon shouted. "I sartainly
do fancy blackfish when they're cooked right. Bile 'em, an' serve with
an egg sauce, is my way o' puttin' 'em on the table."
"That was Cap'n Abe's way, too," muttered Betty.
The cloud on Lawford Tapp's countenance did not lift immediately as he
sculled them out to the anchored sloop. Louise saw quickly that his
ill humor was for Bane.
"I must keep this young man at a distance," she thought, as she waved
her hand to Uncle Amazon and Mr. Bane. "He takes too much for granted,
I fear. Perhaps, after all, I should have excused myself from this
adventure."
She eyed Lawford covertly as, with swelling muscles and lithe, swinging
body, he drove his sculling oar. "But he does look more 'to the manner
born'--much more the man, in fact--than that actor!"
Lawford could not for long forget his duty as host, and he was as
cheerful and obliging as usual by the time the three had scrambled
aboard the _Merry Andrew_.
Immediately Betty Gallup cast aside her skirt and stood forth
untrammeled in the overalls. "Gimme my way and I'd wear 'em doin'
housework and makin' my garding," she declared. "Land sakes! I allus
did despise women's fooleries."
Louise laughed blithely.
"Why, Betty," she said, "lots of city women who do their own housework
don 'knickers' or gymnasium suits to work in. No excuse is needed."
"Humph!" commented the old woman. "I had no idee city women had so
much sense. The ones I see down here on the Cape don't show it."
The morning breeze was light but steady. The _Merry Andrew_ was a
sweetly sailing boat and Lawford handled her to the open admiration of
Betty Gallup. The old woman's comment would have put suspicion in
Louise's mind had the girl not been utterly blind to the actual
identity of the sloop's owner.
"Humph! you're the only furiner, Lawford Tapp, I ever see who could
sail a smack proper. But you got Cape blood in you--that's what 'tis."
"Thank you, Betty," he returned, with the ready smile that crinkled the
corners of his eyes. "That is a compliment indeed."
The surf only moaned to-day over Gull Rocks, for there was little
ground swell. The waves heaved in, with an oily, leisurely motion and,
it being full sea, merely broke with a streak of foam marking the ugly
reef below.
A little to the seaward side of the apex of the reef Betty, at a word
from Lawford, cast loose the sheet and then dropped the anchor.
"Mussel beds all about here," explained the young man to his guest.
"That means good feeding for the blackfish. Can't catch them anywhere
save on a rock bottom, or around old spiles or sunken wrecks. Better
let me rig your line, Miss Grayling. You'll need a heavier sinker than
that for outside here--ten ounces at least. You see, the tug of the
undertow is considerable."
Betty Gallup, looking every whit the "able seaman" now, rigged her own
line quickly and opened the bait can.
"Land sakes!" she exclaimed. "Where'd you get scallop bait this time
o' year, Lawford? You must be a houn' dog for smellin' 'em out."
"I am," he laughed. "I know that tautog will leave mussels for scallop
any time. And we'll have the eyes of the scallops fried for lunch.
They're all ready in the cabin."
The pulpy, fat bodies of the scallop--a commercial waste--were
difficult to hang upon the short, blunt hooks; but Lawford seemed to
have just the knack of it. He showed Louise how to lower the line to
the proper depth, advising:
"Remember, you'll only feel a nibble. The tautog is a shy fish. He
doesn't swallow hook, line, and sinker like a hungry cod. You must
snap him quick when he takes the hook, for his mouth is small and you
must get him instantly--or not at all."
Louise found this to be true. Her hooks were "skinned clean" several
times before she managed to get inboard her first fish.
She learned, too, why the tackle for tautog has to be so strong. Once
hooked, the fish darts straight down under rocks or into crevasses, and
sulks there. He comes out of that ambush like a chunk of lead.
The party secured a number of these dainty fish; but to lend variety to
the day's haul they got the anchor up after luncheon and ran down to
the channels there to chum for snappers. Lawford had brought along
rods; for to catch the young and gamey bluefish one must use an
entirely different rigging from that used for tautog.
Louise admired the rod Lawford himself used. She knew something about
fancy tackle, and this outfit of the young man, she knew, never cost a
penny less than a hundred dollars.
"And this sloop, which is his property," she thought, "is another
expensive possession. I can see where his money goes--when he has any
to spend. He is absolutely improvident. Too bad."
She had to keep reminding herself, it seemed, of Lawford Tapp's most
glaring faults. Improvidence and a hopeless leaning toward
extravagance were certainly unforgivable blemishes in the character of
a young man in the position she believed Lawford held.
The sport of chumming for snappers, even if they hooked more of
sluggish fluke than of the gamier fish to tempt which the chopped bait
is devoted, was so exciting that Betty, sailing the sloop, overlooked a
pregnant cloud that streaked up from the horizon almost like a puff of
cannon smoke.
The squall was upon them so suddenly that Louise could not wind in her
line in good season. Lawford was quicker; but in getting his tackle
inboard he was slow to obey Betty's command:
"Let go that sheet! Want to swamp us, foolin' with that fancy fish
rod?"
"Aye, aye, skipper!" he sang out, laughing, and jumped to cast off the
line in question just as the sail bulged taut as a drumhead with the
striking squall.
There was a "lubber's loop" in the bight of the sheet and as the young
man loosed it his arm was caught in this trap. The boom swung
viciously outboard and Lawford went with it. He was snatched like some
inanimate object over the sloop's rail and, the next instant, plunged
beneath the surface of the suddenly foam-streaked sea.