Produced by Al Haines.
THE CRUISE
OF THE SALLY D
BY
JAMES OTIS
Author of
_Toby Tyler_
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
_By arrangement with Penn. Pub. Co._
COPYRIGHT, 1907-1908, BY JAMES OTIS KALER
COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.
The Cruise of the Sally D.
*Contents*
I. Uncle Ben's Advice
II. The Rescue
III. War Declared
IV. A Matter Of Business
V. An Unwelcome Visitor
VI. A Pitched Battle
VII. Uncle Ben's Arrival
VIII. Uncle Ben's "Plan"
IX. The Stranded Schooner
X. Mr. Rowe's Proposition
XI. "For Sale"
XII. Shipowners
XIII. Wrecking
XIV. A War Of Words
XV. A New Member
XVI. "The Baby"
XVII. The Launching
XVIII. The Trial Trip
XIX. The First Cruise
XX. Getting Even
XXI. At The Port
XXII. Freighting Lumber
XXIII. The Family Home
XXIV. The "Housewarming"
*The Cruise of the Sally D.*
*CHAPTER I*
*UNCLE BEN'S ADVICE*
Uncle Ben picked up a bit of driftwood, and began to whittle it to a
fine point. The boy looked at him anxiously.
"Well," said Uncle Ben at last, "I never allowed that a lad had the
right to run away from his home, an' I've lived nigh to sixty years, man
an' boy, consekently it stands to reason that I oughter know how much
trouble is likely to come from sich didoes."
"Huh!" the boy broke in, "you don't call the 'Sally D.' a home, do you?
I guess you wouldn't if you'd lived on her a spell."
"No," said Uncle Ben, "after what you've told me I don't. An' Cap'en
Doak was only your stepfather at the best of times. Now that your
mother's dead it don't appeal to me that he's any relation whatsoever,
so, consekently ag'in, an' holdin' that a schooner can't be called a
house, which same is necessary to the makin's of a home, what's wrong
with your sneakin' off unbeknownst to Cap'en Doak before the 'Sally D.'
weighs anchor?"
"But where could I go, Uncle Ben? I haven't got so much as one cent in
this wide world, an' there's never a single person who would take me in.
Besides, s'pose I sneaked off while the 'Sally D.' is lying here, I
couldn't get away from the island, 'less you should set me across to the
mainland."
"I wasn't countin' that you would leave the island, Sammy. What's to
hinder your stoppin' right where you are, an' helpin' me out in the
lobster fishin'? I'm allowin' that Apple Island ain't the worst place
in the world, 'specially when you compare it with the 'Sally D.'s' cabin
while Cap'en Doak is ragin' 'round findin' a lot of fun in knockin' you
fore 'n' aft by way of exercise. Now, I don't wanter be taken as
meanin' that I think lobster fishin' is a very encouragin' business for
a bright little shaver like you; but it goes way ahead of the lay you've
got with that stepfather of yourn. What your mother ever saw in Eliakim
Doak to make her willin' to marry him, 'specially after she'd been on
what you might call terms of friendly acquaintance with your father,
beats me."
"Mother did it all on my account," Sam cried quickly, his eyes filling
with tears as he spoke of his "best friend." "You know we had nothin'
left but the house when father died, an' Cap'en Doak made her believe
that he would give me a start in the world with a good education."
"All of which he perceeded to do by gettin' the little money ye had
inter his own hands an' squanderin' it," Uncle Ben exclaimed as he
angrily splintered the result of his handiwork. "Speakin' from your
mother's end of the trade, it was a mighty good thing she died less'n a
year after she hitched up with Cap'en Doak, though it come tough on you.
Does he allow that you're to spend your life--or the best part of it--as
cook aboard the 'Sally D.,' with never a cent in the way of wages, when
you, an' he, an' everybody knows he squandered full fifteen hundred
dollars of your money, for I've been told he sold the house at that
figger?"
"He says that he's bound to take care of me," the lad replied, as if
anger was rapidly getting the better of him.
"An' he's doin' it by keepin' you aboard that ramshackle old schooner,
which is likely to drop inter pieces any minute, an' savin' what he'd
otherwise have to pay as wages to a cook!"
"He'd serve me out terribly if I should try to run away from him," Sam
said half to himself, with a tremor as of fear. "If I sneaked off while
the 'Sally D.' laid at anchor here, he'd know just where I was."
"Well, an' s'posen he did?" Uncle Ben asked sharply, looking down at the
lad as if in anger. "S'posen he did, what good would it do him? I
don't allow that I own this 'ere island; but I pay rent for it, which
amounts to much the same thing, an' Eliakim Doak would soon find out
that he couldn't tromp over me! Sneak off inter the bushes this very
hour, lad, so's to give me a chance to talk to the old heathen in what
you might call a sensible way, an' I'll guarantee he'll up anchor
without raisin' any very considerable of a row."
"An' what then?" the boy asked as he looked over his shoulder
apprehensively, much as if fearing his stepfather might suddenly have
come within ear-shot.
"Why then me an' you'll strike out for ourselves. I own the shanty
yonder, the dory on the beach, two hundred or more lobster-pots, with
cars an' what lawyers call 'other appurtences,' an' you shall have a
fair share of what money comes in the way of Apple Island. I'm allowin'
it would be a favor to you, though that ain't the chiefest reason why
I'm makin' it. I'd like to have for mate a decent lad like you, for
it's lonesome here sometimes--that much I'm willin' to admit."
"Why is it that you never had a mate, Uncle Ben? I've heard lots of
folks puzzle over the same question."
"I reckon you have, lad, for this 'ere coast of Maine is mightily given
to gossip. I've had the question put to me time an' time ag'in; but
never felt called on to answer it till now, when it may be we're likely
to come together as mates. First an' foremost, why did I come off here
nigh to forty years ago an' settle down to catchin' lobsters, when it
seems as if a man what was put inter this world to help others as well
as himself mighter done better? It was all on account of my havin' been
the rankest kind of an idjut when I was young, same's you are."
"Oh, come, Uncle Ben, you don't think I'm as bad as all that," said Sam
Cushing, smiling.
"Well, you got to prove it," grinned Uncle Ben. "Anyway, I couldn't
figger out that book learnin' would do me any good, an' I didn't get it
when I might, consekently I wasn't fitted for much of anythin' else.
Howsomever, I made up my mind that even a lobster catcher might lead a
clean life, an' I never run up agin any who might be willin' to go inter
the business an' at the same time come to my way of thinkin'; therefore
an' consekently I never took on a mate; never so much as offered so to
do, till you come to me this mornin' with the story of what Eliakim Doak
was doin' in his own behalf."
"But I couldn't really be a mate of yours, Uncle Ben!" the lad said with
a deep indrawing of his breath, as if the honor was far too great for
him.
"Why not? All I ask of a mate is that he shall live, so far as he's
able, in the way the good God allowed he oughter, an' from the first
time you landed on this 'ere island I've said to myself that you was a
decent kind of a lad who wouldn't knowin'ly go wrong. Mark ye, Sammy, I
don't set myself up as bein' any better'n my kind; but this you can go
sure on: that I don't reckon on bein' worse. I've allers had an idee of
considerable weight in my mind, an' you might be the beginnin' of my
runnin' it out, so to speak."
"What do you mean, Uncle Ben?" the lad asked curiously.
"That's what I ain't goin' to say offhand, my boy. We'll wait an' see
if there's any chance of its workin' out the way I've figgered it in my
mind. The question is whether you're minded to run away from Cap'en
Doak an' the 'Sally D.,' takin' your chances on Apple Island with me?"
"If you think I won't be a bother an' if you're willin' to----"
"In case I hadn't been willin', or hadn't figgered in my mind how things
might turn, I wouldn't have made the offer, lad," and once more Uncle
Ben fell to whittling a pine stick as if his very life depended upon
fashioning it into a certain shape within the shortest possible space of
time. "An' it ain't any one-sided offer, Sammy Cushing, 'cause I'm
allowin' that your comin' would be a pleasure an' a profit to me, as
Deacon Stubbs would put it, to say nothin' of the fact that you'd be
livin' a more decent life than will ever fall to your share aboard the
'Sally D.'"
"It'll be a big thing for me," and Sam looked timidly in the direction
of the slovenly schooner which lay at anchor in the little cove near by
Uncle Ben's oddly-constructed dwelling. Sam was trying to screw his
courage to the sticking point of running away from the selfish
stepfather who had abused him sorely since that day when the grave
closed over the earthly form of his mother. "It'll be a big thing for
me if it can be done; but I'll smart for it if Cap'en Doak ever gets his
hands on me ag'in."
"If he does, I'll be there to take a share in the business," Uncle Ben
said mildly, his usually mild blue eyes taking on the hue of steel.
"Come up to the shanty an' we'll fix you out for runnin' away, which
shouldn't be necessary, seein's there's nothin' to run from."
Then the old man closed his knife with a sharp click, as if to show that
the important business conference was finally closed, and went with a
certain well-defined air of resolution toward that collection of
shanties of which he was the proud architect, and which had served to
shelter him from the storms and sunshine such as had visited the coast
of Maine during the forty years just past.
The captain of the "Sally D." was stretched out at full length on the
top of the cabin, apparently asleep, when the old man and the boy
skirted the shore of the cove on their way to Uncle Ben's home, but that
he had been keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings could be told
when he cried sharply:
"Are you goin' to loaf away the whole day ashore, Sam, or do you count
on comin' somewhere nigh to doin' your share of the work? It strikes me
things are at a pretty pass when the cook of a schooner can spin yarns
here an' there while he should be wrastlin' with dinner!"
"Don't let him rattle you," Uncle Ben said warningly to Sam, and in a
louder tone he addressed the half-stupefied captain of the "Sally D."
"I'm allowin' that the boy has earned the right to do pretty nigh as he
pleases, while you're layin' here when the fishin' oughter be good
outside."
"I'll lay here till I feel good an' ready to get under way!" Captain
Doak cried angrily, and Uncle Ben replied placidly:
"Then by the same token the boy will stay ashore till he gets tired of
decent company."
Captain Doak raised himself on one elbow as if thoroughly astonished
that any one should dare speak to the owner and commander of the "Sally
D." in such a manner; but evidently did not think it necessary to make
reply, for he fell back on the deck once more, and Uncle Ben said to his
young companion in a tone of disgust:
"Leave the poor, miserable creeter alone, Sam. If it wasn't for raisin'
a row that wouldn't be seemly, I'd advise tellin' him offhand what you
count on doin'; but the smoothest way is allers best, so you shall sneak
off as has been agreed, till he leaves the cove."
"An' then?" Sam asked in a tone of fear.
"When he comes back, if so be he does, an' which seems likely, I'll be
the one to deal with him, for by that time I'm allowin' we'll have the
right to count you out of it. But you can make up your mind that he
won't raise any great of a row, seein's he's got sense enough to know on
which side his bread is buttered. I've got a lease of Apple Island, an'
there's no fisherman comes ashore without my say-so, while I pay the
rent."
Having thus thoroughly defined his position, Uncle Ben led the way into
the odd collection of building, saying as he took from the rude cupboard
a generous amount of eatables:
"Here's what'll keep you from bein' hungry for a couple of days, lad.
Strike inter the bushes near the spring, an' I'll pass the word when the
'Sally D.' has weighed anchor."
In a timid manner, as if afraid of being caught in what seemed like an
act of insubordination against lawful authority, Sam gathered up the
food Uncle Ben had laid on the table, and then hurriedly, as if actually
fleeing for his life, he ran toward the thickest of bushes which marked
the centre of the island.
*CHAPTER II*
*THE RESCUE*
There was no idea in Sam Cushing's mind as he ran at full speed in the
direction of the thicket which grew very nearly in the middle of the
island that he was doing anything wrong in thus endeavoring to hide from
his stepfather. Although the lad had not spoken, save to Uncle Ben, of
the cruel treatment received from the captain of the "Sally D.," through
fear lest people might think he was "whining," he knew full well that if
his mother was alive she would advise him much as the old lobster
catcher had done.
It was the fear of what Captain Doak might be able to do in the way of
punishment that had prevented him from attempting to escape from his
besotted, cruel taskmaster; but now, with Uncle Ben to aid him, the
situation was changed very materially, and but for the fear that his
stepfather would succeed in recapturing him, the lad would have been
more nearly happy than at any time since his mother went out from this
world into the beyond.
Fear of what Captain Doak would do in case he succeeded in laying hands
on him once more served to lend fleetness to the lad's feet and to
strengthen his courage, while he took good care not to loiter within
sight of the "Sally D." and to make thorough search for the best
possible hiding-place.
From a distance the thicket appeared to be dense, but once he was among
the bushes there seemed to be a woeful lack of opportunities for
concealment in case careful search of the place should be made.
Hurrying feverishly forward without coming upon that for which he
sought, he passed entirely through the clump of evergreens, finding
himself on that side of the island facing the open ocean before it
seemed as if he had really begun the search, and then he would have
turned in alarm to gain such poor shelter as the bushes afforded, had he
not seen, rising and falling on the heavy swell, that which so attracted
his attention as to render him forgetful, for the moment, of what the
"Sally D.'s" commander might be able to do.
Hardly more than a hundred yards outside the long line of creamy foam
which marked the eastern ledge, was what appeared to be a partially
shattered boat.
"She's wrecked," said Sam. "I wonder where she came from. Hullo!"
The boy gave a start of surprise, and looked intently at a dark spot
among the wreckage. "There's some one there!" But it was not possible
for Sam to gain a very good view of the shipwrecked person, because
nothing save his head could be seen above the surface, and even that was
hidden now and then as a curling wave submerged it.
Now indeed had Sam forgotten that such a man as Captain Doak ever had an
existence. He understood in a twinkling that unless immediate aid could
be given, the sufferer would be beaten to death upon the jagged rocks,
if indeed any life yet remained.
Dropping the food Uncle Ben had given him, he ran swiftly seaward until
arriving at the water's edge, and then, throwing off his clothing, he
made ready for what must necessarily be a struggle. By wading just
inside the reef he came to the point where it seemed most probable the
shattered boat would be cast ashore.
By this time it was possible for him to see that he who had fallen into
such a sore plight was a lad of about his own age, who waved his hand
feebly once, as if imploring aid.
"I'll bring you ashore, never fear!" Sam cried, hoping by such words to
animate the boy, who was evidently on the verge of exhaustion. "Don't
let go the boat till I've got a good grip on you!"
Once more the lad waved his hand, and even though he had been inclined
to speak, there was no opportunity, for by this time his frail support
had been caught up by the green waves as they made a dash for the rocks.
"Keep your wits about you!" Sam cried cheerily as he ventured a few
paces further into the sea, and the words were hardly more than spoken
before the stranger lad was lifted high in the air.
Accustomed as he was to the surf, Sam knew exactly what should be done,
and he performed his task as well as Uncle Ben, skilful surfman though
he was, could have done it. Bending his body until he was very nearly in
a stooping posture, and at the same time taking good care that he had a
secure foothold, Sam allowed the wall of water to pass entirely over
him, when he stood erect once more, ready to meet the receding wave as
it drew back the half-drowned boy.
Deftly he seized him by the collar of his woolen shirt, which,
fortunately, was unbuttoned at the throat, and then came the struggle
for life, when the treacherous undertow tugged at his legs and the
weight of the lad he was bent on rescuing, flung seaward by the heavy
wave, threatened to overwhelm him. It was no slight task Sam had
undertaken; but thanks to his experience in battling against the surf,
he finally succeeded in dragging the stranger beyond reach of the next
hungry wave, and then fell on the sand beside him, with not sufficient
strength remaining to stand upright.
No longer than while one might have counted thirty did Sam remain thus
inactive, and then, still panting from his recent struggle, the lad gave
all his attention to the boy whose life he had saved.
"I reckon you're all right now," he said, with an effort to speak
cheerily, "an' the sooner you move around a bit so's to get rid of the
salt-water cargo you must have taken aboard, the better you'll feel."
"It don't seem as if I'd ever get back the use of my legs," the lad
said, but without making any effort to follow the advice given, and Sam
replied with a hearty laugh which had in it more of relief than mirth:
"This ain't the time to give in beaten, when you're out of your
troubles. 'Cordin' to the looks of that boat you must have been washin'
'round quite a spell."
"Since jest before daylight this mornin', an' it's pretty hard work to
make myself believe that I haven't been overboard a whole week."
"How did it happen?"
"My boat was run down by the Boston steamer--leastways, I believe it
must have been that. I went out alone to bait trawls, 'cause we was
short-handed aboard the 'Flyin' Fish,' an' there was no dory-mate for
me----"
"Who sent you out alone in the night baitin' trawls?" Sam cried
indignantly.
"Why, Cap'en Moses, of course; he allowed, seein's how it was good
weather, that I might do the job."
"How long have you been sailin' with sich a cap'en as that? He'd make a
good mate for Cap'en Doak!"
"This was my first voyage, an' I ain't much of a sailor, 'cause I've
never been to sea before."
"What's your name?"
"Tom Falonna."
"Where do you live?"
"That's what I don't rightly know, since I cut loose from Mother
Sharkey's place. You see, I did chores there for my board, but it
seemed as if I oughter earn more'n that, so I got a chance to ship on
the 'Flyin' Fish' for a short cruise. I was to get ten dollars a month,
if I turned to in good shape, so that's why it seemed all right for me
to try my first at runnin' trawls alone. Now I'm afraid I shan't find
Cap'en Moses again. Where am I?"
"On Apple Island, with the best man, except my father, who ever lived.
He'll see to it that you don't take any more chances of bein' run down
in the night by a steamer, but----"
Sam ceased speaking very suddenly. For the first time since sighting
the young fisherman he remembered that Captain Doak had an existence,
and a disagreeable memory it was indeed.
Hurriedly he told Thomas Falonna of all that had happened within the
past four or five hours, concluding by saying as he looked around
timidly:
"I've got to hide somewhere till the 'Sally D.' weighs anchor, an'
there's no tellin' but that Cap'en Doak is close at hand this very
minute!"
The rescued lad sprang to his feet, but with some little difficulty,
apparently putting from his mind all thoughts of self as he realized
that the boy who had rendered him such great service was in sore need of
aid, and followed to the best of his ability when Sam ran back to where
he had left the food given him by their Uncle Ben.
"I couldn't find a place to hide in the bushes, an' it's lucky I didn't,
else I wouldn't have seen you," Sam said hurriedly when the two were
together once more. "It won't do for me to hang 'round here very long!"
"Why don't you go up behind them big rocks? I reckon you could keep out
of sight by dodging from one to the other, even if the old brute was
pretty close to your heels," Falonna suggested as he pointed to several
huge boulders just under the break of the land, and Sam caught at the
idea without delay.
Five minutes later the two lads were hidden fairly well, save in event
of a systematic search, and it was Tom Falonna who ate the food with
which Uncle Ben had provided Sam, for the rescued lad had not tasted
even water since the night previous.
"I tell you this stuff is mighty good; but you needn't be afraid I'll
take more'n a fair share, 'cause it may be quite a spell before your
stepfather gives over huntin' after you."
"Take what you want; I'll get along all right if I don't have another
mouthful till to-morrow, for it hasn't been so very long since I had
dinner, an' you're needin' twice as much as we've got here. Tell me
where your folks are?"
Tom's story was not a long one. He had been born in Bavaria, and when
only a few weeks old was taken aboard ship by his parents, who were
emigrating to this country. Both father and mother brought from their
native land the germs of fever; were taken sick during the voyage, and
died in the quarantine hospital very shortly after having been brought
ashore. Tom did not have a very clear idea of how he, as a small baby,
contrived to live; his first memories were of the woman he called
"Mother Sharkey," with whom he found a home, such as it was, until a few
days before being cast up on Apple Island, when he had shipped as a
green hand aboard the "Flying Fish."
Although the recital did not occupy more than two or three minutes, it
had hardly come to an end when Sam started up in alarm as if to take to
his heels; but Tom forced him back behind the rocks as he asked in a
whisper:
"What's the matter now? You'll be seen unless you're more careful!"
"Don't you hear that man talkin'?" Sam whispered in a tremulous voice.
"That's Cap'en Doak, an' he's after me!"
"There's somebody with him."
"Yes, it's Uncle Ben."
"Then what makes you jump around so much? If the old lobster catcher is
half as good a man as you think, he'll see to it your stepfather won't
kick up too much of a row."
"I don't know whether he can stop Cap'en Doak when he gets goin' right
strong, for he's terrible sometimes."
"Well, keep behind the rock, an' don't leave this place till you're
certain he's got his eye on you. I've hid from Mother Sharkey so many
times that I know how it oughter be done."
By this time the lads could hear plainly the voices of the two men, and
but few words were needed to explain why Uncle Ben was in such bad
company.
"I know he's somewhere on the island, an' I'll hunt him out if I stay
here a week!" Captain Doak was saying angrily.
"You'll do nothin' of the kind, Eliakim Doak, an' that I'm tellin' you
for a fact. I've allowed you to come across here rather'n have an up
an' down row; but even if you got your hands on the boy you shouldn't
take him away, an' that you can count on. As for stoppin' ashore here
any length of time, that's for me to say. So long as I pay the rent,
this 'ere island is my private property, an' if you're on it an hour
from this time I'll bring suit agin you for trespass as sure as my
name's Ben Johnson!"
"I'm allowin' to do pretty nigh as I please," Captain Doak cried in a
rage, and Uncle Ben replied in a placid tone as he turned to retrace his
steps:
"'Cordin' to my way of thinkin', Eliakim, you're makin' the biggest kind
of a mistake, an' I'm goin' to take the trouble to prove it before
another half hour goes over our heads."
The lobster catcher was some distance on his way to the opposite shore
before he ceased speaking, and then, peering cautiously out from behind
the rock, Tom could see that the master of the "Sally D." was decidedly
disturbed in mind, for he stood irresolutely, shifting from one foot to
the other as if uncertain exactly what course to pursue.
"What can your Uncle Ben do if the cap'en turns real rusty?" Tom asked
in the softest of whispers, and Sam replied with a sigh of anxiety:
"It seems to me as if he can't do anythin', for there's nobody else on
the island."
"Well, he's made a right good bluff of it, anyway, an' has got this
pirate of yours guessin' mighty hard," Tom whispered in a tone of
satisfaction, after which he turned his attention to spying upon the
commander of the "Sally D."
*CHAPTER III*
*WAR DECLARED*
Captain Eliakim Doak remained as if in deep thought for several moments
after Uncle Ben left him with what, from such a placid man as the old
lobster catcher, was a most emphatic threat. Bluster as he might, and
even Deacon Stubbs had been heard to say that the commander of the
"Sally D." was stronger at blustering than he was at fighting, he
understood full well that it would be in the power of Uncle Ben to make
matters very inconvenient, if not absolutely disagreeable for him.
As a matter of course Uncle Ben as the owner or lessee of the island had
no right to forbid vessels to anchor in the coves; but it was for him to
say who should be permitted to come ashore, and the fisherman who could
not take aboard his water supply from this particular place would be put
to great inconvenience. Until to-day Uncle Ben had welcomed any who
pleased to visit the island, and was ever ready to lend a hand when it
was needed, therefore it can readily be seen that for business reasons,
if for no other, Captain Doak could not well afford to seriously offend
the old lobster catcher.
The question to be decided in Captain Doak's mind was as to which would
be the greater loss, Sam's services, which did not cost him anything in
the way of money, or Uncle Ben's friendship, which really meant the
shutting out of Apple Island's conveniences from the "Sally D." and her
commander.
It was evident that Captain Doak decided he could get along without the
lobster catcher's friendship better than he could the cook to whom he
paid nothing, for after a brief time of hesitation and thought he said
sufficiently loud to be heard by those who were hiding behind the rocks:
"If that old lobster thinks I'm dependin' on him for fresh water, he'll
soon find he's mistaken, an' as for his standin' up with Sam agin me,
I'll let him know that it's a job he'd better not tackle!"
Then, as if having forgotten that he had crossed the island in search of
the runaway, Captain Doak followed rapidly in Uncle Ben's footsteps, and
Sam whispered to his new-made friend:
"There's goin' to be a big row now for sure. The cap'en has got his back
up, an' I'm afraid Uncle Ben will get the worst of it."
"It kinder strikes me that we're bound to take a hand in it, 'cordin' to
all you've said 'bout both of 'em," Tom replied in a matter-of-fact
tone. "If your boss gets the upper hand things are likely to be warm
for you, so the play is to put in what licks we can for the other one."
"We couldn't do anything!" Sam exclaimed with a long-drawn sigh.
"Cap'en Doak would chew us all up before we'd even winked."
"I ain't so certain of that. I've never seen a row yet, an' I've been
mixed up with a lot of 'em in my day, when a boy didn't have a chance to
make considerable of a showin', if he was willin' to pitch in. Come on
before it's too late! Your boss has got inter the bushes by this time
an' won't be likely to know what we're up to if we keep our wits about
us."
Sam, not believing it would be possible to lend aid to Uncle Ben, and
not eager to come any nearer his stepfather than might be absolutely
necessary, would have refused to leave his place of concealment, but Tom
had stepped out from behind the rocks as he spoke, setting off at once
in the same direction as that taken by Captain Doak.
"Keep close behind me an' I'll show you how to work a trick or two," Tom
said, as if to show that he had taken command of the party, and then he
walked at such a rapid pace that Sam could not have taken the lead even
had he been so disposed.
It was not difficult to follow the commander of the "Sally D." without
attracting his attention; the threat made by Uncle Ben had aroused
Captain Doak's anger to such an extent that he appeared to have
forgotten Sam entirely.
Until the angry fisherman had passed through the thicket Tom kept
reasonably close to his heels, but when he came out into the open, on
the slope which led to the cove, it became necessary for the boys to
hang back until quite a distance in the rear. Therefore, when he turned
sharply to the left around the shed in which Uncle Ben stored his fuel,
the lads no longer had him in view.
In order to advance with the least danger of being seen Tom had made a
wide detour to gain the shelter of a stack of lobster-pots, with no idea
in mind that there was any necessity for moving rapidly. But suddenly
he heard the voice of Captain Doak, raised high as if in anger.
"Now there will be a row, an' if we don't take a hand Uncle Ben is bound
to get the worst of it!" Sam cried, as he urged Tom forward by gripping
his arm firmly. "Come on! We've got to help Uncle Ben!"
His own fears were forgotten in the desire to aid the old man who had
been so kind to him.
The boys arrived on the scene at the exact moment when their services
were most needed by Uncle Ben, for the master of the "Sally D.,"
apparently half crazed by anger, was rushing toward the lobster catcher
with clenched fists.
"I reckon here's where we get our work in!" Tom cried, as if delighted
by the evidences of trouble, and catching up the first missile that came
to his hand, which proved to be a lobster-pot buoy, with a half-inch
rope made fast to one end, he ran between the two men, swinging the
heavy weapon in a threatening manner.
So blinded by his rage was Captain Doak that he apparently did not see
the newcomers until Sam, armed with a heavy stake, pressed close by the
side of his friend, and then, suddenly recognizing the truant cook, the
commander of the "Sally D." sprang forward to seize him.
"None of that, or I'll let this 'ere buoy come agin your head!" Tom
cried threateningly. He swung his improvised weapon yet more vigorously,
and Captain Doak fell back a few paces, for a single blow from the heavy
missile would have inflicted a serious wound.
"Why didn't you stay in the bushes?" Uncle Ben asked sharply of Sam, and
before the latter could reply Captain Doak shouted:
"Get aboard the schooner, you young idler, an' when I've settled with
this Ben Johnson I'll 'tend to your case in sich a way that you won't
try to give me the slip ag'in!"
"He'll stay where he is! An' if you raise your hand against him we'll
see what the law can do toward makin' you pay over to the lad the money
what belongs to him from the sellin' of his mother's house!" Uncle Ben
cried, as he pulled Sam toward him, at the same time looking in
bewilderment at Tom, as if wondering where he had dropped from.
Angry though Captain Doak was, he could understand without too great a
mental effort that the odds were against him.
"If you think you can carry matters with sich a high hand, Ben Johnson,
keep on tryin', an' before you're many days older I'll show you what
claim I've got on that idle, worthless Sam. You've run agin the wrong
man when you tackle me, an' I'll straighten out things on this 'ere
island if I never wet another line this season."
"An' I'm tellin' you, Eliakim Doak, that you shall answer to the law for
trespass. I've warned you off this place, an' you've stayed to
threaten, so it's time I found out who's master here," Uncle Ben
replied, his face pale with anger, but his voice calm and low.
Just for one moment Captain Doak lingered, as if to decide whether there
was yet a possibility of his overcoming the small army opposed to him,
and then, shaking his fist in impotent rage, he walked slowly away to
where the "Sally D.'s" dory lay with her bow on the beach.
Uncle Ben followed slowly, the boys trailing on behind him, and not
until the fisherman had pulled off to the schooner was any word spoken
by those on the island. Then the old lobster catcher said with a sigh,
which might have been one of regret:
"I've lived here nigh to thirty years, off an' on, an' this is the first
time I've had a hard word with man or boy. I reckon Eliakim an' I have
declared war now, though, an' it stands me in hand to keep my weather
eye open, for he ain't the kind of a man who's given to fair fightin'."
Then, turning suddenly upon Sam, he asked, pointing toward Tom, "Where
did that lad come from, an' what made you try to take a hand in the
row?"
"We couldn't stand still an' see Cap'en Doak jump on you," Sam replied
quickly, and then, in the fewest possible words, he told of Tom's
rescue, giving to himself very little credit for what had been done in
the way of saving life.
"It begins to look as if the good Lord was bound I should carry out the
plan I've been turnin' over in my mind these many years," Uncle Ben said
slowly, as if thinking aloud, and when Sam asked for an explanation of
the words he added: "Get inter the shanty, lads; there's no good reason
why you should stay outside here where the sight of you will only make
Eliakim Doak worse. We'll talk this over later, when we've got more
time. Now it stands me in hand to make ready for a trip to town."
"To town, Uncle Ben!" Sam cried as if in alarm. "If you go while the
'Sally D.' is layin' here, Cap'en Doak will come ashore an' serve me out
terribly."
"I'm allowin' the two of us could make it mighty hot for him if he tried
any funny business," Tom interrupted, and from the tone of his voice one
would have said that it would give him no little pleasure to try
conclusions with the commander of the "Sally D."
"I shan't go away while that schooner is anchored off here," Uncle Ben
said decidedly. "What's more, I'm grieved that I've let my temper get
the best of me, even though Eliakim did threaten. Howsomever, it stands
me in hand to take the consequences, which are that I must go to town
after riggin' up some kind of a plan so's to make sure of findin' you
lads here when I get back."
"Is it because of your plan that you're goin', Uncle Ben?" Sam asked as
if in doubt as to whether he had the right to raise such a question.
"No, lad, I've got to go, seein's how I allowed to bring suit agin
Eliakim Doak for trespass, an' it won't do to break my word now.
Besides, if I don't do something of the kind, there's no tellin' how far
that man may dare to go for the sake of gettin' his hands on you once
more, which is what I'm goin' to prevent. My plan can be talked over
after we've settled down peaceably, so to speak, though it does really
seem as if it was workin' itself out with no help from me."
"I don't believe that the cap'en cares very much about the law, an' I'm
expectin' he'll keep on raisin' a row till I just have to go back to the
'Sally D.,'" Sam said, with a long-drawn sigh, and Uncle Ben replied
almost sharply:
"I'm allowin' that he hasn't cared much for the law back along, else he
wouldn't have dared to sell your home an' put the money inter his own
pocket; but it'll go hard if I can't bring him 'round to respectin' what
the court says shall be done. It seems as if I was goin' back on all
the principles I've held to by gettin' inter law at my time of life; but
it's too late to draw out now, for neither he nor any other man shall
hector a boy same's he's been hectorin' you."
Then Uncle Ben went into the shanty as if to make preparations for
departure, while Sam and Tom stood watching the movements of the two men
who could be seen moving about on the deck of the "Sally D.," and Tom
finally asked:
"Who's the other feller?"
"Rube Rowe; he's a real good man, an' has told me more than once that he
wouldn't sail in the 'Sally D.' if it wasn't that Cap'en Doak pays him
better wages than he could get on any other craft. You see, it ain't
easy to find decent fishermen who'll sail with a man like him," and he
waved his hand in the direction of Captain Doak, "so he has to give good
money, or go without."
"Would Rube Rowe do anything to hurt you?"
"Don't reckon he'd think there was anythin' wrong in draggin' me aboard
the schooner, if the cap'en said to, 'cause he's my stepfather, an' a
good many people believe I'm bound to hang right by him. If it hadn't
been for Uncle Ben I'd never so much as thought of runnin' away, an'
perhaps it would have been better if I hadn't started, 'cause he'll make
it mighty warm for me if he ever gets me aboard the schooner."
"You'll be a softy if he does get a hold on you after all that's been
done. I'd like to see the fisherman who could haul me away from this
island if Uncle Ben had allowed I might stay with him. It's time your
old schooner got under way."
"I'm afraid Cap'en Doak won't leave till he's had one more whack at me,"
Sam replied sorrowfully and then, turning abruptly, he made his way to
the shanty that he might take counsel with Uncle Ben.
*CHAPTER IV*
*A MATTER OF BUSINESS*
When the boys entered the shanty the old lobster catcher was putting on
his oilskins, and Sam said in surprise:
"I thought you counted on goin' over to town, Uncle Ben?"
"That's what I've got in my mind, lad, seein's there don't seem to be
anythin' else that's pressin'; but I ain't reckonin' on leavin' while
the 'Sally D.' is layin' here at anchor, for it would be much the same
as invitin' Eliakim Doak to come ashore an' yank you off. But business
is business. No matter how big a row we may have on hand the pots are
to be hauled if we count on gettin' a livin', an' seein's how I've got
three mouths to feed, it stands me in hand to look sharp after our bread
an' butter."
"What shall Tom an' I be doin' while you're gone?"
"Doin'? Why, I was allowin' you'd bear a hand, same's decent lads
oughter. If you two have gone inter partnership with me, it kinder
looks as if you was needin' to get the hang of the ropes, so to speak."
"Is Tom to stay here on Apple Island with us?" Sam asked in surprise and
delight.
"Where else can he stay? 'Cordin' to his story he ain't never known any
more of a home than you've had since your mother died, an' seein's how
you hauled him ashore, it looks as if we was in duty bound to take care
of him, though, of course, it's for him to say if he wants to stay."
"That's what I want to do, if you'll have me!" said Tom, who had
overheard the conversation as he entered the single room which served as
kitchen, dining-room, bedchamber and parlor. "I ain't soft enough to
allow you'll keep me 'round jest so's you'll have somethin' pretty to
look at, so if you'll kinder show me how it's done, I'll tackle my share
of the work."
"That's the way I like to hear a lad talk," Uncle Ben said approvingly.
"I don't allow that I'm needin' two mates, seein's how the work ain't
rushin'; but since you're both needin' a home, why it stands to reason
that you oughter help run things the best you know how. We'll haul the
pots, an' before that's been done I'm allowin' Eliakim Doak will get the
'Sally D.' under way. If he does, there'll be nothin' to prevent my
goin' to town an' findin' out 'bout how I stand with the law when I set
myself agin sich authority as a mighty poor stepfather has over a boy."
Then the old man, having put on his oilskins, led the way out of the
shanty toward the dory, which lay high up on the beach, and Tom said in
a whisper:
"Tell me how you go to work haulin' lobster-pots? I don't want to make
sich a bloomin' chump of myself at the first go-off that your Uncle Ben
won't have me hangin' 'round, 'cause it strikes me that this is a mighty
nice kind of a place in which to live."
"You'll see how it's done when the first pot comes up, an' after that
you won't have to ask any questions. All you an' I have to do is row
the dory, an' I reckon you can keep up that end of the work if you could
go out runnin' trawls before daylight."
"If that's all he wants, I'll pull the bottom out of the dory, an'
what's more, do it alone."
"It'll be a long stretch before we get 'round to all the pots, so you
needn't jump to it so hard," Sam replied with a smile, which died
quickly away from his face as he heard the captain of the "Sally D."
hailing Uncle Ben, for by this time the old fisherman had come on the
beach directly opposite where the shabby schooner lay at anchor.
"Don't be too brash, Ben Johnson, or you may find your neck so far inter
a noose that you can't easy get it out ag'in. It's a serious matter to
interfere 'twixt a lad an' them as has authority over him, as you'll
come to know if you don't go slow!"
"I reckon there's little need for your cautionin', Eliakim Doak," Uncle
Ben replied placidly. "I've been turnin' this ere thing over in my mind
ever since William Mansfield told me how you'd been usin' the boy. If
you want to see what the law's got to say 'bout it, that'll jest suit
me, 'cause I'm countin' on knowin' what Sammy's rights are before we're
many days older. I'm no kith or kin to him, but count it my duty, if
nobody else is willin' to take up the matter, to see that he has what's
comin' to him in this world."
"I'll make you wish you'd never been born!" Captain Doak cried in a
rage, and then, much to Sam's relief of mind, he went into the "Sally
D.'s" cabin very quickly, as if he had most important business there.
"Eliakim can bark right smart, but I reckon we needn't have much fear of
his bite," Uncle Ben said, as he stood by the bow of the dory waiting
for the boys to lend him a hand in launching her.
Five minutes later, the old lobster catcher and his small family were
afloat, heading, with Sam and Tom each pulling a pair of oars, toward
the nearest tiny buoy which marked the location of the first pot to be
hauled.
Now, as a matter of fact, there isn't anything particularly exciting in
hauling on a long wet rope until the cage-like lobster-pot is brought to
the surface; but Tom was intensely interested in the operation so often
repeated before the day's work had come to an end. Perhaps it was
because he felt a certain eagerness to know how great a catch would be
taken, and, perhaps, he was anxious to master all the details in the
shortest possible space of time, so that he might be of real assistance
to the old man who was offering him what he never remembered of having
before in his life--a home.
When twenty or more pots had been hauled in, the marketable lobsters
thrown into the dory, while the small ones were tossed overboard to grow
a little more, and the pots baited again with fresh fish, Tom insisted
on being allowed to do his full share of the work.
"It ain't more'n loafin' to row from one buoy to another, an' there's no
reason why I couldn't bear a hand, now I've seen how it's done," he said
eagerly, and after some faint protest, Uncle Ben took up the lad's oars,
as he said with a laugh:
"Have your own way, sonny, though the work is a bit heavier than you are
counting on. If you two boys are reckonin' on helpin' me build up a
family, I allow the sooner you break in at lobsterin' the better. Sammy
here knows what little there is to be knowed about it, an' if you get
inter the job in good shape there won't be anythin' for me to do 'cept
dodder 'round ashore while you earn the livin'."
"I wish that could be the way of it, Uncle Ben!" Sam exclaimed
earnestly, and then the conversation came to an end, as Tom made his
first effort to catch the mooring rope of a buoy with the short gaff
while the dory was gliding swiftly past the small target. It is not
strange that he failed at the first attempt, for it requires no little
deftness with a gaff to "hook on," and it was necessary for the oarsmen
to back the dory here and there until the lad had the rope in his hands.
"Well," he would laugh, "I didn't make any great fist at it that time,
for a fact; but it can't take sich a dreadful long time before I get the
hang of it, an' when I do, this part of the work shall be my job."
And Tom did "break in" even sooner than Uncle Ben expected. Before he
had brought half a dozen pots to the surface it was as if he had had
considerable experience in such tasks, and Uncle Ben said approvingly:
"I declare for it, Tom, you're goin' to be a keen hand at catchin'
lobsters! You handle them pots easier than I could do it, an' if so be
I'm called on to stop at Southport over night, I'll know that you an'
Sam can 'tend to the work as well as if I was here to do the bossin'."
Tom's eyes glistened with pleasure because of the praise; but Sam's face
lengthened perceptibly at the possibility that Uncle Ben might be away
from the island more than a few hours.
It was not yet two o'clock in the afternoon when all the pots had been
hauled, emptied, re-baited and set again. The catch, consisting of
twenty-two marketable lobsters, was thrown into the floating cage,
called by the fishermen a "car," and Uncle Ben and his family were
ashore once more.
"Now, if you lads will lend a hand at launchin' the keel-boat I'll get
under way for Southport," the old man said as he pulled off his oilskins
by way of "dressing" for the voyage. "I've got a fair wind across; but
if so be it hasn't shifted long 'bout sunset, I'll stop over night with
William Mansfield, rather than tackle the job of rowin' a heavy boat so
far."
"But what about Cap'en Doak?" Sam asked, thinking of his stepfather for
the first time since Tom had begun the work of "breaking in" at the work
of lobster catching. Then he looked quickly around, but the "Sally D."
no longer remained at anchor in the cove.
"Eliakim has made up his mind that it won't be safe for him to have any
truck with the law after skinnin' you out of your mother's house, an' I
reckon he won't show his head on Apple Island ag'in, 'specially after he
hears 'bout what I've done--an' you can make up your mind that everybody
in Southport will go out of their way to let him know I've been talkin'
with the 'Squire, as I count on doin' before you see me ag'in."
"But suppose he should come back to hunt for me?" and now Sam's fears
arose so high that it was with difficulty he could control his voice
sufficiently to speak in an ordinary tone.
"There's little chance he'll put back right away," Uncle Ben replied
without seeming to observe the lad's show of fear. "He's bound to do a
little somethin' in the way of fishin', else how can he pay Rube Rowe's
wages? I'm allowin' we shan't see him under three or four days, an' by
that time I'll have your business fixed up so tight that he can't turn a
hair. Leastways, it's 'bout the same as certain that he won't get under
way an' come back to anchorage all in the same half day, so we can count
on bein' rid of him while I'm away. Better catch a mess of cunners for
supper, an' if so be that you're willin', tidy up the shanty a bit, for
I've been mighty slack in my housekeepin' this past week."
Then, much as if eager to put an end to any further conversation
regarding Captain Doak, Uncle Ben set about launching the keel-boat, and
within a very few minutes after she was afloat he was sailing away from
Apple Island in the direction of Southport.
Sam and Tom stood on the beach watching this kindly-hearted old man who
had given them a home until he appeared to be hardly more than a tiny
blot in the distance, and then Sam said, as he searched here and there
with his eyes, as if fearing the "Sally D." had already hove in sight:
"It would be mighty tough on me if Cap'en Doak should come back 'twixt
now an' sunset!"
"I'm not so certain of that," Tom said stoutly. "He ain't more'n any
other man, an' it strikes me we'd be mighty poor kind of boys if we
couldn't hold our own on this island. I wouldn't be afraid if your
Cap'en Doak an' his Rube Rowe both come ashore at the same time, for
with that buoy I had when he was here before I could make a pretty good
play at keepin' 'em at a distance for quite a spell."
"But you couldn't stand up swingin' a buoy 'round your head all night,"
Sam suggested mournfully, and then as he thought of Tom's attempting to
perform such a feat during all the hours of darkness he broke into a
hearty laugh, so comical was the picture in his mind.
"When you get through havin' sich a good time I reckon we'd better have
a whack at cleanin' up the shanty 'cordin' to your Uncle Ben's orders,"
Tom said curtly, and without further delay the task was begun, although
a careful housewife would have said they were making no improvement in
the apartment.
When the shanty was, in their eyes, as cleanly and orderly as it could
be made, Sam overhauled Uncle Ben's stock of fishing-lines, and during
the half hour that followed they caught cunners and skinned them, until
they had ready for the frying-pan as many as half a dozen hungry boys
could have eaten.