abused him so long, "he ain't anywhere near so bad when he's sober."
"Then it's time he was put where he can't be anything else," Mrs.
Mansfield replied sharply. "I've been longing to have him brought up to
answer for his tricks ever since your mother died. She, poor woman, the
same as had the life worried out of her by that miserable creature!"
Mrs. Mansfield was not the only person in town who believed the time had
come when Captain Doak should be put where he could not give way to his
appetite and his temper, as the boys learned when they went out on the
street after having eaten what Tom declared was "the breakfast of their
lives."
The townspeople were determined that Uncle Ben's family should not
longer be exposed to the vicious whims of Eliakim Doak, and the
testimony of Sam and Tom, who saw him pulling away from the island
shortly after the shanty had been set on fire, was sufficient to
convict.
The result of the fire was that the former owner of the "Sally D."
received a sentence of ninety days in the county jail, in addition to
paying a fine of two hundred dollars; but it was understood that if he
left town at once the sentence would not be carried into effect until he
showed himself again in the state.
It so happened that a lumber-laden vessel was on the point of leaving
the harbor bound for Cuba and on her Captain Doak took passage, thus
passing out of the lives of those whom he had wronged, and from that day
until now neither Uncle Ben's family, nor any citizen of Southport, has
ever seen or heard of him.
When the trial had been brought to an end and the angry citizens saw
Eliakim leave the harbor on the Cuban-bound craft, Sam and Tom were
called upon to tell over and over again the story of the previous day's
good and bad happenings, and when the two lads insisted that they must
set out for Apple Island in order to arrive before dark Mr. Mansfield
said as he went with them to the pier:
"You are to tell Uncle Ben that we of the Port will buy lumber enough to
build him a regular house, an' he's to come over here after it when he
gets back from Portland. Say to him that we count it our duty to make
up for the mischief Eliakim has done, an' when he's ready to put up the
buildin' we'll all lend a hand. I reckon we'll make it a reg'lar
vacation time. You'll find that mother has sent down food enough to
keep you from bein' hungry till the schooner comes back, an' it won't be
any great hardship if you do have to sleep out-of-doors this night."
"You've been awful good to us, Mr. Mansfield, an' we won't forget it,"
Sam said, as he took his seat in the dory, and Tom added:
"It kinder seems as if everybody was good since Uncle Ben took us in
hand, an' I'm hopin' the day'll come when I can show him how I feel on
account of what he did when he started a family."
"Uncle Ben Johnson is the salt of the earth, if there's sich a thing,
an' the funny part of it is that it has taken us folks here at the Port
so long to find it out. We've got the idee now, though, an' will keep
it in mind mighty fresh."
Then the journey to Apple Island was begun, the lads pulling steadily
and strong after their long rest, and once outside the harbor Tom said
reflectively:
"I ain't so certain but that your old heathen did Uncle Ben a good turn
when he set the shanty afire, 'cause now the old man will have a decent
house, which is more'n would ever have come his way if he'd had to spend
good money buildin' it."
"That's 'cause he wants to keep all the dollars he can get to help out
on raisin' a family, an' it strikes me that he's doin' it mighty fast,
though I ain't certain as we can have such high times when there are a
good many fellows around."
Then the lads fell to discussing what would be the result after Uncle
Ben's plan had been fully carried into execution, and they were not at
an end of it when the dory was run up on the sand near the ruins of the
shanty.
Again was it time to attend to the traps, and, stopping only to catch
cunners enough to serve as bait, the lads went about their task,
believing that when the work was come to an end they must perforce find
for themselves beds among the bushes, for it did not seem possible the
"Sally" could return from Portland until another day had passed.
The catch was not large on this afternoon, although the labor of hauling
the pots was as great as if they had loaded the dory gunwale deep with
lobsters, and the last one had been thrown into the car just as the sun
sank out of sight.
"I reckon we'd better hustle if we count on findin' a good place for
sleepin', 'cause it'll be dark in the woods. I'm---- Hello! There's
the 'Sally'! Why do you s'pose she didn't go to Portland?"
*CHAPTER XXII*
*FREIGHTING LUMBER*
Even Uncle Ben found it difficult to remain sedate, as the head of a
family should, when Sam and Tom pulled alongside. Little Joey was
running fore and aft on the deck, clapping his hands as he screamed for
very joy, while Mr. Rowe leaned over the rail to shout something which
the lads could not understand, and the old lobster catcher tried hard to
appear unconcerned, but he could hold out no longer when the boys
clambered on board.
Reaching out a hand to each of them he cried in a tone of triumph, as if
it was no longer possible for him to keep the secret:
"We got two hundred an' ten dollars for the catch, lads! Only think of
that! Near to half what the 'Sally' has cost us!"
"An' it ain't the last two-hundred-dollar fare we'll take 'twixt now an'
winter!" Mr. Rowe cried from amid the mainsail which he was trying to
snug down and at the same time listen to what was being said.
"But how did you get back so quickly?" Sam asked. "We didn't allow to
see you before to-morrow night!"
Mr. Rowe could no longer attend to his work, but, emerging from the
billowy folds of canvas, he cried exultantly:
"We got back so soon because the 'Sally' is a reg'lar flyer! When I
sailed with Eliakim I allowed she could go some, but since we've shifted
her rig she don't touch the water at all--jest skims over the top like
one of them 'ere flyin' fish. Why, lads, she's made as good as eleven
knots ever since we parted company with you, an' if that ain't goin'
some I'd like to know what you call it?"
"She surely is a swift craft!" Uncle Ben added emphatically, and one had
only to look at his face in order to understand that a sailor's love for
a beautiful vessel was taking root in his heart. "Did you lads carry a
load of lobsters to the Port?"
"Ay, that we did, an' have only been home long enough to pull the pots,"
Sam replied, at a loss to know how he should break the sad news to the
old man. "We had a full cargo, though I'm thinkin' we wouldn't have
gone if it hadn't been for Cap'en Doak----"
"Has he been here again?" Uncle Ben asked in alarm.
Now it was Tommy's turn to share in the story-telling, and, taking the
old man by the arm, he led him aft, where a view could have been had of
the shanty if it had still been standing, saying as he did so:
"I reckon you can see what's been done?"
"What do you mean, lad? What has been done?" Uncle Ben asked
impatiently, failing to note the blackened ruins.
"Can you see the shanty?"
A cry of sorrow burst from the old man's lips, and his face suddenly
paled as he understood that his home had been reduced to ashes.
"How did it happen, boys? How could it have burned? Wasn't you here,
or did it---- No, that couldn't be, for we didn't leave any fire in the
stove!"
"That pirate of a Doak did it, Uncle Ben!" Tommy cried passionately.
"We got back just in time to see him pullin' outer the cove, an' then
the shanty was in a blaze. But I'm thinkin' he won't set any more
houses afire, leastways, till that vessel gets to Cuba!"
As a matter of course Uncle Ben could not understand the meaning of the
words and no small amount of time was spent in telling the whole story.
When all the details had been given, and not until then, did Reuben Rowe
speak, when, raising his hand as if taking an oath, he cried angrily:
"I hope that miserable specimen of a man will know what it is to go
hungry before he dies, an' if I'm anywhere around I'll chuck good grub
away before givin' him the littlest bit!"
"Now, now, Reuben, that's bein' downright wicked," Uncle Ben cried,
seizing Mr. Rowe by the arm. "We'll hope Eliakim will come in time to
realize what he's about, an' turn from the evil of his ways."
"Wa'al, I s'pose I'm wishin' somethin' of the same thing; but at the
same time I'd like to have a hand in the turnin' of him, an' then I'll
go bail he'd know it had been done!" and Mr. Rowe went back to snugging
down the mainsail as if fearing he could not contain his wrath before
the head of the family.
"Wasn't anythin' saved from the fire?" Uncle Ben asked after a long
pause.
"Everythin' was burning when we got ashore, an' now we'll have to live
aboard the schooner, I reckon," Tom replied.
"If the folks at the Port are goin' to furnish lumber for a new house,
why not run over there to-night?" Reuben asked, ceasing work suddenly
again. "The boys have 'tended to the pots an' there bein' nothin' here
for us to do we may as well be savin' time."
"Do as you like, Reuben, do as you like," the old man said in a
sorrowful tone as he turned abruptly and went into the cabin, Mr. Rowe
saying in a whisper as Uncle Ben descended the companionway:
"He's takin' it mightily to heart, an' I can't say as he's to be blamed.
The shanty wasn't much as houses go, but he'd built it himself, an'
lived in it all his life, so to speak. It won't make any difference how
good a buildin' goes up in its place, he'll allers be mournin' for the
old one. Wa'al, it can't be helped now, though I do wish Eliakim hadn't
been let off quite so easy. In with the anchor, lads, an' we'll make
harbor off the Port before midnight. Bear a hand lively, an' perhaps
it'll chirk Uncle Ben up a bit if he hears us bustlin' 'round."
Not until the "Sally" was under way once more, eating up the miles on
her way to Southport, did Uncle Ben come out of the cabin, and then, in
the hope of cheering him ever so little, Sam went to his side, taking
him by the hand.
"I'd try not to feel so awfully bad, Uncle Ben, for if the family grows
any bigger you'd had to have another house or else left some of us out
in the rain."
"I know it, Sammy, I know it, but somehow I can't help feelin' mighty
lonesome 'cause the shanty's gone, an' what makes it seem worse is that
it wouldn't have been burned if I hadn't been so childish 'bout wantin'
to go on the 'Sally's' first cruise. If I had stayed at home Eliakim
never'd done sich a wicked thing."
"Now that ain't certain, Uncle Ben, 'cause perhaps you'd been out
pullin' pots, an' he'd had the same chance. You'll like the new house
just as well after we get it built," and Sam patted the old man's hand
as he would have done to soothe a distressed baby.
"It'll never be quite the same, Sammy boy, but I ain't got any right to
brood over what can't be helped, an' I'll try mighty hard to keep it
from my mind. S'pose you an' I cook supper! That'll kinder take up our
attention."
Little Joey came below to help the cooks, leaving Mr. Rowe and Tom to
run the "Sally," and so elaborate were Uncle Ben's plans for the meal
that the schooner was made fast to the dock at Southport before supper
had been made ready.
It was so late in the evening that the citizens of Southport were not
abroad to note the arrival, and, therefore, the "family" had no
visitors.
It was Mr. Mansfield who discovered next morning that the "Sally" was in
the harbor, and he came over the rail before a single member of the
"family" had opened his eyes.
"I was allowin' to find you all in the dumps, when I saw the 'Sally' at
the dock; but I reckon you ain't takin' it so terrible hard, Uncle Ben,
seein's how you can sleep so long," the shopkeeper cried as he entered
the cabin without ceremony, and the old lobster catcher replied almost
cheerily:
"It did strike me kinder hard at first, William, for I'd got to have a
mighty friendly feelin' for the old shanty, but if the family never has
any greater misfortune than that, God will be good to us."
"I reckon you're right, as you allers are, Uncle Ben. Now, instead of
thinkin' 'bout what's gone up in smoke, we'll look ahead to the house
you're goin' to have. We here at the Port allow to chip in for the
lumber, an' as soon as it has been freighted to the island, we're
countin' on havin' a regular old-fashioned raisin' bee, to help you put
it together. Are you ready to take on a load now?"
"The sooner the better," Uncle Ben replied, as if almost ashamed to
accept the gift. "I'm hopin' everybody knows that we'll be mighty
grateful for what's bein' done, an' if ever I get the chance to do----"
"You've had the chance, an' taken right hold of it, Uncle Ben. It has
made us feel like small potatoes to see you tryin' to gather into a
family them who needed a home, an' now we're goin' to have a share in
the scheme. We'll set right about haulin' the lumber, an' I reckon the
first horse-load will be here by the time you've had breakfast."
It surely seemed as if every man and horse in Southport was engaged in
loading the schooner, and it was hardly more than noon, thanks to the
many pairs of willing hands, before the "Sally" had as much aboard as it
was deemed wise to take on the first trip.
The afternoon was less than half spent when the "family" were on Apple
Island once more, with their schooner riding at anchor in the little
cove, and now, indeed, was it necessary that every member do his utmost
in the way of work. Sam and Tom set off to haul the traps, while Uncle
Ben, Reuben and even little Joey, labored industriously throwing the
lumber overboard that it might be rafted to the shore.
It was considerably past midnight when this day's work was ended, and a
more weary crew never turned into the "Sally D.'s" bunks, to be awakened
next morning at daybreak that they might return to the Port for another
cargo.
And so this work was kept up until all the lumber was freighted. There
had been no neglect of the lobster industry, even when the two boys were
so tired that it seemed impossible for them to pull the dory around the
island, and, as a matter of course, no fishing had been indulged in,
even though all knew it might well be that they could get another large
catch of mackerel. Sam had indeed proposed that they fish one forenoon
out of every two, hauling the pots in the night; but to this Uncle Ben
would not listen.
"You boys are already doin' more work than might well be expected of
men, an' I don't count on drivin' willin' horses to death for the sake
of gettin' a few more dollars," the old lobster catcher said, very
decidedly. "Next week the folks from the Port are comin' over to stay
quite a spell, an' what with feedin' them, lookin' after the traps, an'
takin' a turn now an' then at carpenterin', I'm allowin' you'll have
your hands full. Early Monday mornin' you two lads are to go over with
Reuben after them as are willin' to help us, an' I reckon then is the
time we'd best empty our car of lobsters."
Therefore it was that the "Sally D." lay in the cove several days,
serving the family as a home, and as Uncle Ben had planned so was it
done. When the schooner made Southport early on the following Monday
morning, they found waiting for them so many of the citizens that Sam
was greatly alarmed lest he and Tom would not be able to cook food
enough, even though they worked every moment of the time.
The good people of the Port had no idea of allowing Uncle Ben to feed
such an army, but had ready on the pier what Tom called a "reg'lar
stack" of provisions to be put on board, and there was no question but
that they counted on enjoying themselves during such time as the new
house was being built.
Among the belongings on the pier was a large canvas tent, in which the
workmen were to sleep, and Sam said, as he and Tom were helping stow the
goods on the "Sally's" deck:
"What worries me is that Uncle Ben will get terribly mixed up with so
many people loafin' 'round."
"I reckon he'll keep himself straight when he sees the house goin' up.
Leastways, he's got a mighty good idee of what's goin' to happen, for I
heard him tell Mr. Rowe that he an' us two better try to get three or
four bushels of clams to-night, if we can pull the pots in time. Clam
diggin' is about the only part of Apple Island that I don't like," Tommy
added ruefully, "an' these folks will eat a terrible big pile, I'm
thinkin'."
"Then you don't count on doin' it?"
"Don't count on doin' it? Say, Sam, what do you take me for? Do you
think I wouldn't do anythin' Uncle Ben wanted, whether I liked it or
not? If he asked me to stand on my head so's to hang dish-towels on my
feet, you'd see me upside down from mornin' till night."
"Get on there with that dunnage!" Mr. Rowe called from the quarter-deck,
for he was playing the part of captain to perfection, on this morning
when he had as spectators nearly every person in Southport. "Bear a
hand lively, you boys, for I'm wantin' to get under way mighty quick!"
This served to remind the merrymaking carpenters that they also must
bear a hand. In a twinkling the stores and tent were on the schooner's
deck, while half a dozen men seized each halyard, running up the canvas
in a jiffy, and the "Sally" sailed out of the harbor with the jolliest
lot of passengers that could have been found in a month's search.
*CHAPTER XXIII*
*THE FAMILY HOME*
The men of Southport, who had awakened to the knowledge that Uncle Ben's
scheme of giving a home to boys who needed and were willing to work for
one, had come to Apple Island intending to do all they could toward
building such a house as would provide for the needs of the future, but
at the same time they counted on mixing a good deal of pleasure with
their labor.
They behaved more like lads out for a holiday than staid, respectable
citizens of a "slow" town. It seemed to have been agreed that the
"family" should not be allowed to do any more work than was absolutely
necessary, for when Uncle Ben and the boys made ready to carry the
visitors ashore in the dories Mr. Mansfield said in a tone of command:
"All you who live here on the island are to keep your fingers out of
this job, except when it can be proven that you are really achin' to
work. We'll get this truck ashore, set up the tent, an' put our dunnage
inter it. I reckon that'll be enough for one day. In the mornin' we'll
begin buildin', an' the family are to keep on with the reg'lar business
same's if we wasn't here."
"But we can set you ashore, William," Uncle Ben said pleadingly.
"You'll do nothin' of the kind, Benny. If there ain't anythin' better
to be done go up on the cliffs an' watch us put things to rights."
"Then I allow now's the time when we'd better get about the
clam-diggin', an' we'll need a pile of 'em if we're to feed sich a
crowd," Uncle Ben said with what was very like a sigh because his
visitors were bent on working instead of pleasuring.
"They'll be doin' mighty well to eat up all the stuff that was put
aboard at the Port," Sam suggested, hoping that it might not be thought
necessary to provide so very much in the way of provisions, for
clam-digging was not to his liking.
"I allow they've got stores enough," Uncle Ben replied placidly; "but
out here they'll be lookin' for clams an' lobsters, to say nothin' of
fried cunners, an' we must see to it that they ain't disappointed."
Now, as any one who has tried it knows full well, there is nothing like
sport in the task of digging clams, and to Sam it was the most
disagreeable work that could be performed; but he set about it with a
thoroughly good imitation of cheerfulness, because it was Uncle Ben who
had given the word of command, and he was eager to show his gratitude
for what the old man had done in his behalf. When the clam-diggers
returned to the cove, their baskets filled to overflowing, the tent had
been set up, the goods brought from the Port stowed away in it, and the
volunteer carpenters were exploring the island, shouting and laughing
like a party of schoolboys out on a holiday.
"It seems jest like a circus," Tommy said in a whisper to Sam, while
little Joey begged that he might go nearer the tent to see it more
plainly. "Say, wouldn't you like to get inside?"
"Yes, but perhaps they wouldn't like to have us snoopin' 'round. I
reckon we'd better stay aboard the 'Sally' when there isn't any work to
be done ashore, an' besides, you an' I won't have time to fool very much
if we've got to cook for this whole crowd."
"Hello, Uncle Ben!" Mr. Mansfield shouted from a distance. "Send your
cooks up to the tent an' let 'em overhaul our stores to get what's
needed for supper! I reckon it would be easier for all hands if you
brought the cookstove from the 'Sally,' an' did the cookin' under
canvas, eh?"
Much to the delight of the cooks, and particularly to little Joey, it
was finally decided that this should be done, and during that afternoon
Sam and Tommy stood over the stove making clam chowder, and frying
cunners as fast as Mr. Rowe could catch them, until it really seemed as
if they had prepared food enough to provide every man, woman and child
in Southport with at least one hearty meal.
The "Sally" was almost forgotten by the boys in the novelty of the tent;
but before another day had passed they were decidedly of the opinion
that it was much more easy to perform the duties of cooks in the snug
cabin of the schooner, than on shore under canvas.
Next morning the visitors set about their task in earnest, and not only
Uncle Ben, but all his family, were astonished to learn that it was the
intention of the volunteer carpenters to build a large house, in which
should be not less than eight bedrooms in addition to kitchen and
sitting-room.
"I'm allowin' that your family is bound to grow mighty fast, as soon as
folks get the idee of what you're about, an' so long as we're goin' to
put up a new house, it's no more'n common sense to make it big enough to
take care of as many as you may adopt," Mr. Mansfield said in reply to
Uncle Ben's remonstrance against the erection of what he called a
"reg'lar hotel."
"But I shan't have anythin' to put inter the rooms," the old lobster
catcher added almost mournfully.
"I'm allowin' the women folks will look after that part of it, Uncle
Ben," Mr. Mansfield replied. "Now there's mother, she told me to put up
sich a house as would shelter all the homeless youngsters you might pick
up for the rest of your life, an' she allowed that the Southport Sewin'
Circle had agreed to see you had furniture enough to make it look
comfortable. We're goin' to put a cellar under the whole buildin', for
we've got rocks in plenty for the wall. Then you must have a wood-shed
that'll hold fuel for six months of fires, an' them cooks are to be put
inter quarters that'll make their eyes stick out. Sammy Cushing is
quite a hand at mixin' up somethin' good to eat, an' I'm kinder anxious
to see what sort of a fist he can make of it with everythin' convenient
to hand."
It was useless for Uncle Ben to protest. The citizens of Southport had
decided what was needed, and accompanied their decision with lumber
sufficient to carry it into execution. Mr. Mansfield and Deacon Stubbs
had even gone so far as to make rough plans for the new house, and the
others were determined these should be adhered to so far as might be
possible.
Therefore it was that the visitors worked as had been agreed upon; Tom
and Sam were kept busy from morning until night cooking food, and little
Joey found it quite as much as he could do to carry to the tent the wood
chopped by Mr. Rowe. Uncle Ben hauled the pots and acted as ship-keeper
for the "Sally," lying at anchor in the cove, when, as Reuben said, "she
oughter be out chasin' mackerel." Every person on the island was busy
during all the hours of daylight, save on the Sabbath, from the day the
work was begun on the family home until it was so nearly completed that
all the meals were served in what Mr. Mansfield had called the
sitting-room.
"Talk 'bout swell houses!" Tom said one evening when he and Sam were
privately inspecting the building. "It's goin' to knock the spots outer
everythin' 'round here, an' yet I'm thinkin' Uncle Ben had rather have
the old shanty back."
"'Course he had, 'cause he built that himself; but jest wait till he
gets the hang of livin' in a place like this, an' then he'll be
contented as a kitten."
The kitchen was roomy and pleasant, as Mr. Mansfield had promised, and
it really seemed to Sam and Tommy that their labors as cooks were
lightened fully one-half by the many conveniences, chief of which was a
plan of Deacon Stubbs' for bringing water by pipes direct from the
spring into the house.