"We're goin' to have as much wind as will be needed, an' can't afford to
be loafin' 'round here while there's many a school of fat mackerel
outside cryin' for us to come an' catch 'em."
There was little need to urge Uncle Ben's family on this morning, once
their eyes were open, for the idea of making a try at taking fish was so
exciting that it only needed they should be aroused to consciousness
before all hands were, as Tom said, "skippin' 'round right lively."
It was hardly more than daybreak when the "Sally" sailed out of the cove
with every flag flying, Uncle Ben at the helm, the two boys cooking
breakfast in the cabin, and little Joey and Mr. Rowe forward on the
lookout for mackerel.
It was well for the "family" that the cooks did not loiter over their
portion of the work, for in less than ten minutes after the last one had
eaten breakfast Mr. Rowe gave the welcome word that there was a big
school of fish in the path of gold cast by the rising sun, and when Tom
came on deck he could see what appeared to be a shadow, even amid the
rays of light.
"Yes, them's mackerel, all right!" Uncle Ben said joyously in answer to
Tom's question. "They swim so near the surface that their fins are
almost out of water. A big school it is, for a fact, an' if we get our
fair share out of it I'm allowin' we shan't be away from the island many
hours, for at this season of the year fresh mackerel are worth a good
bit of money. We'll be in a hurry to get 'em to market."
Ten minutes later Mr. Rowe was throwing bait industriously as the
"Sally" came up into the wind, and the old lobster catcher cried
excitedly as he made ready his lines:
"Get your gigs out, lads, for this 'ere is a hungry school. Let the
hooks jest touch the water, an' when you bring one in over the rail,
snap him off anywhere on deck, for this kind of fishin' is what you
might call lively work, with no time for finnicky business."
Even as he spoke Uncle Ben drew in a fish, and in a twinkling all hands
were pulling the flapping beauties over the rail at a rate that promised
the richest kind of a fare in a very short time.
*CHAPTER XX*
*GETTING EVEN*
To Tom and little Joey mackerel catching was a novelty, and neither was
able to aid very much in the work until after having satisfied his
curiosity regarding this odd method of fishing.
Tom was lost in wonder because the hungry fish snapped at the bit of
white cloth, or even the bare hook, before it was well down to the
surface of the water, and not the least of his surprise was regarding
the ease with which the mackerel could be shaken off after having been
brought inboard.
"It's the greatest fishin' I ever heard tell of!" he exclaimed in
delight as Uncle Ben detached a rainbow-colored fish from the hook by a
sharp jerk on the line. "My, my, but don't they take hold lively!"
"That's more'n can be said for you," the old lobster catcher replied
with a laugh as he pulled in another fish. "When you strike a school of
mackerel it don't pay to spend much time with your mouth open, for
they're odd creeters, an' jest as apt to knock off bitin' in another
minute as they are to keep on for the next hour. Fishermen have to get
'em when they're in the humor, an' it's a case of jumpin' to it the best
you know how. Why don't you swing your line over?"
"I declare for it I'd forgotten all about doin' my share," Tom said, in
what was much like a tone of apology as he acted upon the old man's
suggestion. "It's so funny that I couldn't do anythin' but watch."
Even while speaking he swung a fat fish over the rail, and from that
moment the most enthusiastic fisherman aboard was Tom Falonna.
The eager fish even allowed themselves to be caught by the "baby," and
little Joey screamed with delight as he brought over the rail a tiny
"tinker" gorgeous in hues of blue, green, pink and white.
"Talk about luck on the first cruise!" Mr. Rowe cried when it seemed as
if the "Sally's" deck was completely covered with the beautiful fish.
"To strike a school so near inshore at this time of year is enough to
make a man sit up an' look at himself; but to have 'em keep up the fun
so long is somethin' I never run across! What about losin' a few
lobsters for the sake of gatherin' in sich a fare as this? I'm tellin'
you, Uncle Ben, if we could get this lot inter Boston fresh, the 'Sally'
would come somewhere near payin' half her cost. If we only had a lot of
ice aboard!"
"I'm allowin' Portland would be as good a market as Boston, an' if this
wind holds we could run in there with the mackerel sweet an' fresh, even
though we didn't have any ice," Uncle Ben replied thoughtfully, but
without ceasing his work for a single instant.
"I believe it would pay, even though we didn't get back to the island
for a week, for there's a good bit of money in this fare," Reuben said
in a tone of satisfaction; but his face clouded when the old man added
decidedly:
"We can't afford to take the chances of havin' things go wrong at home,
an' that's the fact."
"S'pose you can't get 'em in port fresh, what is to be done with such a
slat?" Tom asked, and Mr. Rowe replied mournfully:
"We'll have to salt 'em down, which not only means a big lot of work,
but cuts down the price a lot. It's a pity we hadn't left you lads
ashore, an' then it would be a case of our gettin' inter market with
what would fetch a couple of hundred dollars."
"How far do you allow we are from Apple Island now?" Sam asked suddenly,
as if a happy thought had come to him.
"Somewhere 'bout five miles, I reckon. What do you say, Uncle Ben?"
"We can't be much further off than that; but if we was countin' on
makin' Portland, it would add ten miles to the run if we put in home,
an' that's far enough to cut short our chances of gettin' the fish on
the market while the weather is so warm."
"What's to hinder Tom an' me from pullin' over home when this school
gets through bitin'?" Sam asked. "You could get under way in a jiffy,
an' have no need to worry 'bout things on the island. The only trouble
would be that you'd have to go without a small boat."
"You've hit the nail square on the head, lad!" Mr. Rowe cried excitedly.
"It's the very thing to be done! I allow we can get along without the
dory when it's a case of scoopin' in two hundred dollars or more!"
"What about it, Uncle Ben?" Sam asked anxiously, and the old man
replied, speaking slowly and thoughtfully:
"It'll be a long pull for you, Sammy; but if it wasn't for that I'd say
Reuben had the right idee. We've got a lot of fish here, an' they're
worth seven or eight cents apiece as they run, for fresh mackerel at
this time of the year are somethin' of a rarity, an' there are rich
folks enough in this world to pay extra money for the sake of havin'
things out of season."
"Then the whole business is settled," Tom cried, still continuing his
work of adding to the cargo. "It wouldn't make any difference if we
were ten miles from home, 'cause we'd be bound to pull back for the sake
of helpin' bring in two hundred dollars to the family. How is that for
two or three hours' fishin'?"
To this outburst Uncle Ben made no reply and his crew took it for
granted that the matter was settled without need of further discussion.
Mr. Rowe suggested that the "baby," who was not making any great headway
at taking fish, set about gathering up the catch into baskets that it
might be sent into the hold where the sun could not shine upon it and
the remainder of the "family" worked even more rapidly than before, if
indeed that could be possible, in order to add to the take before the
mackerel were done biting.
It seemed to the eager fishermen as if a full hour had been spent at the
work before the fish, with no apparent reason, suddenly sank out of
sight, and Uncle Ben announced as he swung his lines inboard:
"That finishes this job, an' if you're countin' on makin' Portland while
the fare is sweet an' fresh, Reuben, I'm allowin' we'd better get the
'Sally' on her course. It's been a rare piece of good fortune for the
first cruise," Uncle Ben said placidly, and Mr. Rowe shouted in a tone
of command:
"Now, then, if you boys are reckonin' on pullin' back home, it's time
you got over the rail, for we can't waste a minute jest now!"
"Shan't we hold on a bit to help put the fish in the hold?" Sam asked.
"It's so early in the day that no great harm will be done if we make the
trip three or four miles longer."
"We can do that work after we're on our course, an' I'm not allowin' you
shall go any further from home," Uncle Ben said decidedly. "If you're
willin' to go back, get about the job before the 'Sally' is under way."
"Willin'? Of course we are!" Tom cried as he hauled the dory alongside.
"It would be funny if we wasn't, with so much money to be made. I'd go
back alone rather than lose the chance to make a pile on the first
cruise."
"Then over the rail with you, an' be lively!" Mr. Rowe cried.
In a twinkling the two boys were in the dory, the painter was cast off,
and little Joey was dancing excitedly about the deck as he screamed
shrilly:
"Good-bye, Sam! Good-bye, Tom! I'm sorry you won't have a chance to
see the city, but I'll tell you all about it when we get back!"
"We don't want to see any city, when there's lots of lobsters in the
pots!" Sam cried cheerily. "Say, Uncle Ben, the car was mighty nigh
full when we dumped the catch in last night; what's to be done if we
have good luck to-day?"
"Better freight a load over to the Port, Sammy, if you feel able to pull
that far. Mr. Mansfield will take all you carry; but in case you're too
tired, we'll run the chances of losin' some of 'em, seein's how this
'ere lot of mackerel more'n makes up for them as may eat each other."
"Jest hold your hand on the top of your head till we get tired when
there are big dollars to be made, an' see how long you'll keep it
there!" Tom cried as the "Sally" came around on her heel, every inch of
canvas catching the fresh breeze and forcing the little schooner on her
way to Portland, as if understanding how necessary it was the fish be
delivered to the purchasers by daybreak next morning.
"I thought I'd seen quick work before, but I never struck any thin' so
sudden as mackerel fishin'," Tom said when the dory, with the boys each
pulling a pair of oars, was headed for Apple Island. "There must be big
money in sich business, an' I wonder Uncle Ben don't knock off
lobsterin' to 'tend to it."
"We might come out fifty times, an' not strike luck the same as we had
it this mornin'," Sam replied with a happy laugh. "It's great for the
first cruise, an' now if we can take as many lobsters as we did last
night, it'll seem as if this family had started in all right."
So elated were the lads by the success of the morning that the five-mile
pull was hardly more than sport, and so busy were they speculating as to
how much money the mackerel would bring in that it seemed as if they
were hardly more than cast off from the "Sally D." before Apple Island
was close under the dory's bow.
"I reckon Mr. Rowe was way out of his reckonin' when he said we were so
far away," Tom cried in astonishment, when Sam called his attention to
the fact that they were almost home. "It can't have been more'n----
Hello! Ain't that your old heathen jest pullin' out of the cove?"
Sam ceased rowing in order to gaze in the direction indicated by Tom's
outstretched finger, and an exclamation of dismay burst from his lips as
he cried:
"That's him sure enough! Now, what kind of mischief do you reckon he's
been up to?"
"With all hands of us an' the 'Sally' away from home, I don't allow he
could kick up very much of a row," Tom replied carelessly, and added
with a hearty laugh, "I reckon he was chafin' some under the collar when
he found we'd got out of his way."
"Unless he fooled with the lobster car, I don't s'pose he could do much
mischief," Sam said half to himself; "but yet it seems as if he must
have cut up some kind of a shine, else why is he goin' off so peaceable
like?"
"'Cause there was nobody ashore to pick up a fuss with," Tom replied in
a tone of satisfaction. "I wish Uncle Ben would let Mr. Rowe, an' you,
an' me serve the old pirate out once! I'll bet he wouldn't want to come
foolin' 'round this island ag'in!"
The lads gave no further attention to Captain Doak, after making certain
that he was pulling toward the Port at his best pace, and five minutes
later their dory had rounded the point, opening to view the shore of the
cove.
Then it was that both the boys ceased rowing very suddenly, as they gave
vent to a cry of mingled anger and sorrow, for the shanty appeared to be
in a blaze, with the flames already bursting out through the roof.
"That's what the old heathen has been doin'!" Tom cried in a rage, as he
dipped his oars deep in the water. "Pull around, Sam, so's we can
overhaul him, an' no matter how big he is, I'll give him a dose that
won't be forgotten very soon!"
"Even if we could get the best of him, there's no use chasin' his boat;
he's got a good mile the start, an' we'd never be able to make that up
'twixt here an' the Port. Pull, Tom, pull the best you know how, an'
perhaps we can save some few of the things!"
"It's too late now, for the whole place is in a light blaze," Tom
replied sorrowfully, but he obeyed the command to the best of his
ability, and the dory was sent over the water at a rate of speed which,
it is safe to say, she had never equaled.
The boys did not slow down on nearing the shore, but ran her at full
speed high up on the sand, leaping over the rail even as she struck, but
before they had taken a single step in the direction of the shanty it
was possible to see that any efforts of theirs would be useless.
Uncle Ben's home, slightly built of inflammable material, was burning
fiercely, the flames leaping up from every point, and it could be
understood that Captain Doak had waited until making certain his
villainous work was thoroughly performed before he left the island.
The boys ran at full speed, however, hardly knowing what they did, and
came to a halt only when the heat of the fire prevented any nearer
approach. Here they stood watching the devouring flames in silence a
full minute, when Tom, turning in the direction of the Port, shook his
fist threateningly as he cried angrily:
"It makes no difference what Uncle Ben says, if ever I come within
strikin' distance of that miserable pirate! The idea of burnin' a
shanty when he couldn't do himself any good, but only to turn an old man
outer house an' home! Come on, Sam, even if we can't catch him we'll
tell the folks at the Port what he has done, an' I'll be way out of my
reckonin' if they don't make it hot for him before he's many hours
older!"
"We can't spend the time to go there till after the traps have been
hauled, 'cause even if the shanty is burned we've got to take care of
the lobsters," Sam replied with a sigh. "If we could only rig up some
kind of a place for Uncle Ben to sleep in when he get back!"
"He'll have the 'Sally,' won't he? We can live aboard of her till
another house is built; but it'll take all the money that comes in from
the mackerel to pay for new lumber."
"I forgot that we'd have the schooner for a home, so things ain't quite
so bad as they might have been. See here, Tom, we mustn't think of
runnin' after Cap'en Doak, for there's no knowin' but that we'll have to
carry a load of lobsters to the Port, an' if that's so, we oughter get
off early, 'cause we must be back before dark."
"Why? There's no place here for us to sleep, 'less we camp under the
trees an' if we have to go to the Port I'm thinkin' we'd best stay there
till mornin', 'cause there's no show Uncle Ben can get back even as
early as to-morrow."
"You're right; but even at that we can't hang 'round here very long,
seein's how there's nothin' to be done. Let's pull the traps, an' then
make up our minds what we'd best do."
"Say, we've got to go to the town, 'cause there ain't anythin' here to
eat, an' I'm mighty hungry already."
"Come on, then; we'll tackle the traps, for it's a case of goin' hungry
till that work has been done an' we've pulled a heavy dory six or seven
miles!"
*CHAPTER XXI*
*AT THE PORT*
Tom's hunger increased as he realized that it would be impossible to get
anything to eat until after considerable heavy work had been done, and
he was already tired with the labors of the day; but since Sam did not
complain, he would have been ashamed to speak of his own desires or
needs, and followed his comrade back to where they had so hastily left
the dory.
"It's goin' to come pretty tough on us, I reckon; but we oughter be
willin' to tire ourselves a big bit, seein's this is about the best
chance we'll ever have to show Uncle Ben what we're willin' to do toward
squarin' up for his bein' so good to us," Sam said, as if believing his
companion needed heartening, and Tom replied stoutly, forcing a smile to
his lips:
"Don't get it inter your head that I'm goin' to cry baby jest 'cause I
can't fill myself up with things to eat. I've been hungry many a time
when I didn't see any show ahead for gettin' the next day's breakfast,
an' reckon I can hold out as long as you. It won't do any harm if we
lay in a cargo of water. My mouth is pretty dry, an' that old pirate
couldn't play any funny business with the spring."
Then the boys refreshed themselves with cold water, after which they
launched the dory to set about the work of hauling traps, each doing his
best to make it appear that plenty of exercise was the one thing needed
at that time.
The catch was not as large as on the previous night, but yet they
brought in so many lobsters that Sam knew from experience it would not
be wise to leave such a large number in the car any length of time, and
said with an air of wisdom as they neared the cove on their return:
"We'd have to go to the Port even though the shanty hadn't been burned,
an' if we count on gettin' there before dark it's a case of hustlin'
right lively from now on. We'll take as big a cargo as can be carried
in good shape, an' be off. Do you want another drink of water?"
"I could stow away considerable, but I reckon we'd better not stop to go
to the spring. The sooner we strike the Port the sooner we'll get
somethin' to eat, an' I'm growin' mighty hollow inside."
It was neither a long nor a difficult task to take from the car, by aid
of a gaff, as many lobsters as were needed to make up a fairly good
cargo for the dory, and when this had been done the lads buckled down to
the oars once more, both feeling so tired that under any other
circumstances they would have believed it absolutely impossible to make
the journey.
With so heavy a load the boat moved sluggishly through the water,
despite all their efforts, and, to add to their labor, the wind was dead
ahead.
"It's goin' to be a long pull; but Uncle Ben says that any job can be
done by stickin' at it. So don't let's look around to see how near we
are, but keep on workin' the oars till we get there," Sam said with a
brave effort at cheerfulness as he set the example.
The lads were not inclined for conversation during the journey; both
were nearly exhausted, and it required all their courage to continue at
the laborious task. It really seemed as if the dory lay like a log on
the water, and no matter how they tugged at the oars, which had
apparently grown wonderfully heavy since morning, it seemed impossible
to crawl away from the island.
Tom shut his teeth tightly as he worked, while Sam, trusting that his
comrade would steer the craft, kept his eyes fixed upon the bottom of
the boat, striving manfully to forget that he was weary, thirsty, and
hungry. The rippling of the water against the side of the dory was the
only sound to be heard; the sun, although very near to setting, sent his
most fervent rays across the lazy swell of the ocean as if trying to
discourage the toiling lads, while the warm wind, instead of refreshing,
only added to their discomfort.
But, following Uncle Ben's advice, they "stuck at it" without any
interval of rest, and, as a matter of course, decreased the distance
between themselves and the Port by a certain number of inches with every
stroke of the oars.
Finally, just when the sun had sunk out of sight behind the western
hills, the dory poked her nose around that point of land which formed
the eastern arm, or side, of Southport harbor, and Sam said with a
long-drawn sigh of relief as he pulled a trifle more vigorously at the
oars:
"It surely seems as if we'd been rowin' two or three days. I did think,
when Uncle Ben told me I might live with him on Apple Island, that the
time never could come when I'd be played out by pullin' a boat, 'cause
of bein' so glad that I had a decent home once more; but if we'd been
much longer rowin' over here I ain't certain as I could have stuck at
it."
"Don't talk about it," Tom replied with a groan. "I'm so near dead that
if I stop to think I'll tumble over. It did seem a spell ago as if I
was starvin'; but now I'd rather lay down an' sleep than have the best
dinner that ever was cooked!"
Ten minutes later the dory was made fast to the pier, and, by the rarest
good fortune, the first person in Southport who learned of their arrival
was Mr. Mansfield. He had just sauntered down on the wharf when Sam
crawled ashore with the painter, and, as a matter of course, was curious
to learn why they had come without Uncle Ben.
But little time was spent in telling the story, for no sooner had Mr.
Mansfield gotten an inkling of the mischief done, than he turned
abruptly, almost running up the street.
"Now what?" Tom, who had thrown himself full length on the pier, asked
with mild curiosity, being so nearly exhausted that he could not display
a very lively interest in anything.
"I reckon he's gone to tell the folks what's been done. We'll have to
wait here."
"That's jest what I want to do, an' he needn't hurry back on my account,
for I could stay right where I am till mornin' an' not fret myself very
much."
There was little need for the boys to speculate as to the reason for Mr.
Mansfield's sudden departure. He returned within five minutes and at
once began to ask many questions, to all of which Sam replied as well as
he was able; but before having given any great amount of information his
eyes closed in sleep, despite all his efforts to keep them open, and the
shopkeeper exclaimed in a tone of self-reproach:
"I come mighty nigh bein' a brute to keep you here talkin', when,
'cordin' to what's been said, you must have been workin' like beavers
since before daybreak. Toddle up to my house an' go to bed. There
ain't any chance Uncle Ben can get back within the next four an' twenty
hours."
Not only did Mr. Mansfield provide them with a bed, but his wife
insisted on their eating a hearty meal before lying down, and when,
finally, the two lads had an opportunity to crawl between the
lavender-scented sheets, Tom said with a sigh of content:
"It pays to get awfully tired, jest for the sake of findin' out how nice
it is to go to bed."
Then it was as if he had dropped into dreamland on the instant, for the
words were hardly more than out of his mouth before he was breathing
heavily. And Sam did not have time to realize the condition of his
comrade, for he himself was lost in the blissful unconsciousness of
slumber.
Not until the sun had been looking in at the chamber window of Mr.
Mansfield's house a full hour did the boys realize where they were, and
then Sam jumped out of bed as he cried:
"Just think of it, Tom, after all our work to get the lobsters here, we
left them in the dory all night, an' it'll be the biggest kind of luck
if any of 'em are alive now!"
Very hurriedly did the boys dress, and they would have hastened out of
the house on the instant if Mrs. Mansfield had not insisted on their
partaking of the breakfast which had been kept so long waiting.
"William took care of the lobsters last night, so there's no reason why
you should be in such a hurry," she said when Sam attempted to explain
why they should be on the pier as soon as possible. "Captain Doak won't
be brought before 'Squire Kelly till nine o'clock, an' there's nothing
you can do till then."
"Cap'en Doak!" Sam repeated in amazement. "Why is he to come up before
the 'Squire?"
"Because he burned Uncle Ben's house, of course," the good woman replied
sharply. "Do you suppose the people of the Port are going to allow him
to carry on at such a rate? He will have a trial and be punished for
what he has done, so William says."
This was most pleasing news to Tom, who did not hesitate to say he
"hoped the old heathen" would be sent to prison for a long time; but
Sam, although believing the culprit should be punished, felt sad because
the man was to answer for his misdeeds.