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Ex Uhris
OrMA F. BUTIER
byGoogIc
byGoogle
B Ohma Fitch Butlbr. Ph.D.. '07 I
by Google
PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
by Google
by Google
by Google
*'I never dreamed that I'd come to be skipper of a coal-hod."
fflge 122. Partntrs of tkt 7 id»^
Partners of the Tide
By JOSEPH C. LINCOLN
Anthor of" Cap'n Ed"
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
A. L. BURT COMPANY Poblismers
NEW YORK
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Copyrisht, 1901
£. f. E4RNS8 A Oa
fttblUlmi Aprti. aOi
by Google
J ,»^ 7_ v<e
I. Tbe Ouau 8t«ob. . .
II. Tbs "Old Huh"..
III. Tbs "Doo Gnu."
IV. T«. "LAtTD»T"
V. A Cbahoi or Pum,.,
VI. TbiTbdui Dun...
Vn. A QouTiaH or Pouct
Vm. Houi Arum
IX. '
D WjL
XV.
X. Tat Lmnn ScBoonn
At Srroein Poiin
Tsi Akcboe or ni Liiutt...
Mk. CooiWi.1.
The "Svncumon Bill"
Thb Divma Bills
Tbi Cuttaim'* Gauli
XVII,
xvin.
XIX.
XX.
XXI.
XXII.
WOU Am WOMT....
Mi. Sau Hxiaioaa...
Tie BmaiAi
A Dnr ii Pud
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by Google
PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
w
1 HB UKHAM SIAUE.
•# ^J A y AS you cal'latin' to buy one of
them turnovers, bub ?" casual-
ly inquired Mr. Clark, ceasing
to gaze at his steaming boots,
which were planted against the bulging centre of the
station stove, and turning toward the boy at the lunch
counter.
"Yes, sir," said the boy. He had taken off one
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a PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
worsted mitten and held a iive<ent piece clutched
tightly in his red hst.
"I want to know I" exclaimed Mr. Clark, and then,
bending forward, as much as his girth would allow,
to wink 'round thecomer of the stove at Mr. Bodkin,
who sat opposite, he added: "Ain't your ma ever
learned you to respect age?"
The boy made no reply to this question, but Mr.
Bodkin slapped his thigh and remarked that that was
"a good one."
"Them turnovers," continued Mr. Clark, "was
willed to this depot by the man that used to drive the
Ostable bake-cart. He's dead now, and here you be,
figgcrin' to eat up hia gravestone. Dear, dearl I
don't know what this country's comin' to. Ike,
gimme a match."
Mr. Bodldn, after his laugh was over, produced
a "card" of matches and passed them to the humor-
ist, who used one to relight the stump of his cigar
and put the remainder in his pocket. Then he re-
turned to his subject.
"Them turnovers " he began, but was inter-
rupted by the station agent, who came out of the
Iktle room where the telegraph instrument was click-
ing, and stepped behind the lunch counter. He lookied
at the joker and his companion in anythinfr but a
friendly manner.
"Those turnovers," said the station agent, "were
fresh yesterday and they're good for somethin', which
is more than I can say about some other fresh things
around this depot jest now. Lon Clark, I'd like to
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THE ORHAM STAGE 3
remuid you that we use blackm' on that stove, not
terbacker juice. Well, boy, what'U you have?"
The boy, thus appealed to, held up his five-cent
piece and said that he should like one of the slan-
dered "turnovers."
"All right; which'll it be — mince or apple?"
"If I was you," suggested Mr. Clark, not yet com-
pletely crushed, "I'd take the mince kind. You know
what you'll git if you take apple, but baker's mince>
meat's kind of a myst'ry. Might bite into a gold
dollar, like as not; hey, Ike?"
"Give me an apple one," said the boy, decidedly.
The station agent wrapped the pastry in a piece
of newspaper and handed it to his customer. Then
he came out from behind the counter and, looking at
Mr. Clark and his friend, snifled suspiciously.
"Either of you fellers got your boots afire?" he
asked, after a moment. "Seems to me I smell some*
thin' mean, like leather bumin'. Oh, excuse me,
Lon; I didn't notice your cigar." And, having un-
loaded this bit of sarcasm, he returned to the tele*
graph instrument.
The boy, a youngster of about twelve years of
age, with a freckled face and a pair of bright gray
eyes, took his "turnover" to the settee in the comer
of the waiting-room and began to eat. He had on a
worn cloth cap with an attachment that could be
pulled down to cover the ears, and a shabby overcoat
of man's size, very much too large for him. As he
munched the greasy crust and the thin layer of *'evap>
orated" apple, he looked around him with interest.
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4 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
The station Itself was like the average railway
building on Cape Cod. Except for the sign "Har-
niss" that hung outside, it might have been the station
at Welhnouth, which he had seen so often. Battered
settees around the walls; lithographs of steamers,
time-tables and year-old announcements of excursions
and county fairs hung above them ; big stove set in a
box of sawdust — all these were the regulation fix-
tures. Regulation also were the "refreshments" on
the counter at the side — "turnovers" arranged cob-
house fashion under a glass cover, with a dingy
"Washington" pie under another cover, and jars of
striped stick candy with boxes of "jawbreakers" and
similar sweetmeats between.
It was snowing hard and, in the dusk of the winter
evening, the flakes rustled against the windows as if
unseen old ladies In starched summer gowns were
shivering In the storm and crowding to get a peep
within. The air in the shut waiting-room smelt of
hot stove, sawdust, wet clothing and Mr. Clark's
cigar. To this collection of perfumes was presently
added the odor of kerosene as the station agent lit
the big lamps in their brackets on the wall.
From outside came the sounds of creaking wheels
and stamping horses, the stamping muffled by the
snow which covered the ground. Also some one, In
a voice more vigorous than sweet, was heard to sing
a chorus of "Hi, randy, dandy— ol" Mr. Clark
and his friend took their feet down from the stove
and looked expectantly toward the door, the former
remarking that "Barney was feelin' gay to-night,'*
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE ORHAM STAGE j
and that he "must have a bottle of consolation
along."
The door opened and a big man, with a face of
which gray whiskers and red nose were the most
prominent features, came stamping and puffing Into
the room. He jerked off a pair of leather gloves,
playfully shook the congealed moisture from them
down Mr. Clark's neck inside his collar, tossed a long
whip into the comer, and, holding his spread lingers
over the stove, began to sing "Whoa, Emma 1" with
enthusiasm.
Mr. Clark being too busy clawing the melting
snow from his neck to c^en a conversation,
Mr. Bodkin observed: "Hello, Barney I How's
the trav'lin' ? Have a rough time drivin'
over?"
"Oh, middlin' middlin'," replied the driver of the
Orham stage, unbuttoning his overcoat and reach*
ing for his pipe; "but this earth's a vale of tears,
anyhow, so what's the odds so long's you're happyt
Heilo, Danl" The last a shouted greeting to the
station agent in the little room, whose answer was a
wave of the hand and a sidelong nod across the tele-
graph instrument.
"What's doin' over in Orham, Barney?" inquired
Mr. Clark.
"Methodist folks are goin' to start up temp'rance
meetin's; Seth Wingate's bought a new horse; and
'Hungry* Bill Samuels has got another child — that's
the latest excitement jest about now. Not that 'Hun-
gry' Bill's baby was much of a surprise; you can
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
6 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
gtnVally count on a new Samuels every year. The
temp'rance revival is the reel thing, though; folks
fignin' the pledge as if 'twas catchin', like the
measles."
"You ain't developed the symptoms yit, have
you?" asked Mr. Clark, with a laugh.
"No, not yit. Lucky I was vaccinated young. I
ain't takin' no chances, though; keep plenty of pre-
ventative in the house all the time ;" and, with a pro-
found wink, Mr. Small began to hum, "Cold water,
cold water; oh, that is my song!"
"Oh, say I" he shouted, suddenly interrupting his
own concert, "say, Dan I there is some more news,
after all. Come out here a minute; I want to tell
you somethin'."
The station agent turned his head in the speaker's
direction. "Go ahead," he said, "I can hear you."
"Well, I thought you'd be interested, bein' as you
used to live in Orham. Prissy and Tempy's adopted
a boy."
The agent evidently was interested, "Whatf" he
exclaimed.
"Prissy and Tempy's took a boy to bring up. Oh,
It's a fact I It took me some tune to b'lievc it, my-
self, but it's so."
"The old maids?"
"Yup, the old maids. I s'pose they come to reel-
ize that they needed a man 'round the house, but as
there wan't no bids in that line, they sort of com-
promised on a boy."
"You don't mean the Alien old maids that live
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE ORHAM STAGE 7
down on the 'lower road,' do you?" asked Mr.
Bodkin.
"Sartin. I said the old maids, didn't I ? Therc'»
plenty of single women in Orham, but when you say
'the old maids' in our town, everybody knows you
mean Prissy and Tempy."
"I dwie a job for them once," remarked Mr. Bod-
kin, reflectively. "I was over to Orham sellin' ber-
ries. I wam't reelly lookin' for no work, you under-
stand, but "
"Yup, we understand," said the stage driver, dryly.
"It sort of reached out and nabbed you 'fore you
could git away."
"That's it," assented Ike, oblivious to the sarcasm.
"I called at their place — it's that big, old-fashioned
house by John Baxter's cranb'ry swamp, Lon — and
Miss Prissy Allen, she bought the last of my huckle-
berries. Thioi she wanted to know if I wouldn't mow
the front yard. We had some dicker 'bout the price»
but I fin'lly agreed to do it, so she showed me where
the scythe was and I started in. And I swan to man,"
continued Mr. Bodkin, excitedly, "if she didn't stand
on the front steps and watch me like a dog tr^n' to
locate a flea, jumpin' on me every minute or two to
tell me that she thought I'd cut this part ' 'most an
inch shorter'n I had that part,' and so on. F^n'Uy
I got sick of her naggin', and I says, jest to shame
her, I says, 'If I'd known you was so partic'lar,' I
says, 'I'd a-brought my sperrit level along,' I says.
And says she, 'There's one that used to b'long to
father out in the bam.' Well, sir I that was too much
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
8 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
for me! 'I don't mow grass by no sperrit level,' says
I, 'and I tell you, I ' "
"What about the boy, Barney?" said the station
agent, coming into the waiting-room.
"Why," said Mr. Small, "It's this way; seems that
Prissy and Tempy's father, old Cap'n D'rius Allen —
he's been dead six years or more now — had a niece
name of Sophia, that married Cap'n Ben Ntckerson
over to Wellmouth. Cap'n Ben and his wife had
one son ; I think the boy's name's Bradley. Anyhow,
Cap'n Ben and his wife was drowned off the Portu-
guese coast two years ago when Ben's bark was lost;
maybe you remember? Well, the boy was left at
home that voyage with Ben's ha'f brother, Solon
Nickerson, so's the youngster could go to school.
When his folks was drownded that way the boy kept
on livin' with Solon till, 'bout three weeks ago, Solon
was took with pneumony and up and died. Prissy
and Tempy's the only relations there was, you sec, so
it was left to them to say what should be done with
the boy. I cal'Iate there must have been some
high old pow-wowin' in the old house, but the
old maids are pretty conscientious, spite of their
bein' so everlastin' 'old maidy,' and they fin'lly
decided 'twas their duty to take the little fel-
ler to bring up. That's the way / heard the
yam. They kept it a secret until yesterday, but
now the whole town's, talkin' 'bout it. You see, it's
such a good joke for them two to have a boy in the
house. Why, Prissy's been used to sbooin' every stray
boy off the place as if he was a hen."
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THE ORHAM STAGE 9
Mr. Small laughed so heartily at this that the
others joined in. When the hilarity had subsided,
the station agent asked:
"When's the Nickcrson boy comin' over from
Wellmouth?"
"Why, to-day, come to think of it. He was to
come up on the afternoon train from Wellmouth and
go to Orham with me to-night. You ain't seen
nothin' "
The station agent interrupted him with a sidelong
movement of the bead.
"Huh?" queried Mr. Small. Then he, In com-
pany with Mr. Clark and Mr. Bodkin, turned to-
ward the corner of the waiting-room.
The boy who had bought the apple "turnover,"
having finished the last crumb of that viand, had
turned to the window, and was looking out through
a hole he had scraped In the frost on the pane. He
had shaded his face with his hands to shut out the
lamplight, and, though he must have heard the con-
versation, his manner betrayed no interest in it.
Mr. Small interrogated the station agent by rais-
ing his eyebrows. The agent whispered, "Shouldn't
wonder," and added; "He came on the up-train thisi
afternoon."
"Hey, boy I" said Mr. Clark, who never let con-
sideration for other people interfere with his own
curiosity, "what's your name ?"
The boy turned from the window and, blinking a
little as the light strack his eyes, faced the group by
Ae stove. His freckled cheeks glistened as the light
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10 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
thone upon them, but, as if he knew this, he pulled
the big sleeve of the overcoat across his face and
rubbed them dry.
"What's your name, sonny?" said the stage driver,
kindly.
"Nickerson," said the boy in a low tone.
"I want to know I Your fust name ain't Bradley,
is it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Sfao I well, there now I Guess you're goin' to ride
over with me then. I drive the Orham coach.
Hum I well, I declare I" And Mr. Small pulled his
beard in an embarrassed fashion.
"Come over to the stove and get warm, won't
you?" asked the station agent.
"I ain't cold," was the reply.
"Well, ain't you hungry now?" said Barney, who
was afraid that his roughly told story had hurt the
youngster's feelings. "Won't you have somethin' to
eat? One of them turnovers or some Washington
pie, or somethin', hey? Got a long ride ahead of
you, you know."
"He's got outside of one turnover already," said
Clark, with a loud laugh, "and that's enough to last
most folks for a consid'rable spell. Haw I haw 1"
"Shut up, Lon," snapped the stage driver. "What
d'you say, son? Somethin' to eat?"
"'I ain't hungry, thank you," said the boy, and
turned to the window again.
The trio by the stove fidgeted in silence for a few
moments, and then Mr. Small said, uneasily : "Ain't
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THE ORHAM STAGE 1 1
It 'most time for that train to be in? She's a ha'f
hour late now."
"She was twenty-five minutes late at Sandwich,"
said the station agent, "and she's prob'Iy lost ten
minutes or so since then. She'll be along in a little
while now.'*
But in spite of this cheerful prophecy a full fifteen
minutes passed before the train, which had been
started from Boston with the vague idea that, some
time or other, it might get to Provincetown, came
coughing and panting 'round the curve and drew up
at the station platform. Car roofs and sides, and
tender and locomotive were plastered thick with
snow, and the empty seats seen through the doors as
the trainmen emerged, showed that travel for this
night was very light indeed. In fact, only one pas-
senger got out at the Hamiss station, and he, stop-
ping for a moment to hand his trunk check to the
station agent, walked briskly into the waiting-room
and slammed the door behind him.
"Hello I" he hailed, pulling off a buckskin glove
and holding out a big hand to the stage driver.
"Barney, how's she headin'?"
Mr. Small grinned and took the proffered hand.
"Well, for the land's sake, Ez TitcombI" he ex-
claimed. "Where'd you drop from? Thought you
was somewheres off the coast between New York
and Portland jest 'bout now."
"Got shore leave for a fortni't or so," said the
newcomer, unbuttoning his overcoat with a smart
jerk, and throwing it wide open. "Schooner sprung
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
12 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
a leak oH Gay Head last trip and she's hauled up at
East Boston for repairs. Dirty weather, ain't it?
Hello, Lon? How are you, Ike?"
Mr. Clark and his friend grinned and responded,
"How are you, Cap'n Ez?" in unison.
The arrival was a short, thickset man, with a sun-
burned face, sharp eyes, hair that was a reddish
brown sprinkled with gray, and a cIose>Glipped mus-
tache of the same color. He wore a blue overcoat
over a blue suit, and held a cigar firmly in one cor-
ner of his mouth. His movements were quick and
sharp, and he snapped out his sentences with vigor.
"Full cargo to-night ?" he asked of Mr. Small, who
was buttoning his overcoat and pulling on his gloves.
"Pretty nigh an empty hold," was the reply.
"Only 'bout one and a ha'f goin' over. You're the
one and the boy here's the ha'f."
The Captain looked at the boy by the window and
smiled pleasantly.
"Well, son," he observed, "you and me'U have the
whole cabin to ourselves, won't we ?"
"Yes, sir," replied the youngster. He had pulled
from behind the settee an old-fashioned carpet-bag,
the cadaverous sides of which testified that the ward-
robe it held was not an extensive one. Mr. Clark,
who had a reputation as a humorist to sustain, noticed
the bag and rose to the occasion.
"Say, bub," he said, "you ought to feed that satchel
of yours two or three of them apple turnovers; maybe
'twould fat up some."
Ike Bodkin roared at his friend's witticism, and th«
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THE ORHAM STAGE 13
boy turned red and looked out of the window once
more. Captain Titcomb noticed the lad's confusion,
and remarked cheerfully :
, "Lon, you remind me of that flyin' machine old
Cap'n Labe Saunders was perfertin' for the five years
afore he died. You're fat and full of hot air, but
you won't work. Turnovers are all right; I like
turnovers myself. All ready, Barney?"
"All aboard!" shouted the stage driver. "Come
on, Brad. You and the Cap'n git inside, while me
and Dan git the dunnage on the rack."
The boy picked up the carpet-bag and followed
Mr. Small out to the rear platform of the station,
where the coach, an old-fashioned, dingy vehicle,
drawn by four sleepy horses, stood waiting.
Captain Titcomb followed, his overcoat Sapping
in the wind.
"Here, Barney," he observed, "have a cigar to
smoke on the road. Have one, Dan? Here, Lon,
here's a couple for you and Ike. Who's the little
feller?" he added, in a whisper, to the station agent.
"Ben Nickerson's boy from Welimouth. He's
comin' down to Orham to live with the old maids.
They've adopted him,"
"The old maids? Not the old maids? Not
Prissy and Tempy?"
"Yup. All right, Barney; I'm comin'."
The station agent hurried away to help the driver
with theCaptain's sea chest, and its owner, apparently
overcome with astonishment, climbed mutely into the
coach, where his fellow passenger had preceded him.
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
14 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
The old vehicle rocked and groaned as the heavy
chest was strapped on the racks behind. Then it
tipped again, as Mr. Small climbed clumsily to the
driver's seat.
"All ashore that's goin' ashore I" shouted Mr.
Small. "So long, Dan. Git dap, Two-forty!"
The whip cracked, the coach reeled on its springs,
and the whole equipage disappeared in the snow and
blackness.
"Humph !" grunted Mr. Clark, as he peered after
it. "This ain't no five-cent cigar. Might know it
come from Ez Titcomb. It's a queer thing that other
coastin' skippers have to put up with a pipe; but that
ain't Er's style — no sir-ee I"
"Yup," assented Mr. Bodkin, "and that ain't the
only queer thing. How' is it he can have such good
clothes, and fetch home such nice presents and one
thing or 'nother, when other fellows in the same bus'-
ness can't. Oh, he's smart, all right enough I Some
folks thinks he's too smart. They say "
"Some folks says he'll bear watchin'," continued
Lon, puffing vigorously at the cigar. "Now, under-
stand, / don't say nothin', but "
"If you fcUcrs are intendin' to sleep here you'd
better be makin' up your beds," interrupted the
staticm agent. "I'm goin' to shut up shop and go
hwne."
This was in the days before the Orham Branch
Railroad was built, and passengers for the latter vil-
lage were obliged to leave the train at Hamiss and
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE ORHAM STAGE 1$
take the ten-mile stage ride under the guidance of
Mr. Small or his partner "Labe" Lotbrop. The
coaches were of about the same ages as their drivers,
die horses were not so very many years younger, and
the roads were deeply rutted, so the home-coming
mariners of Orham, no matter how smooth their sea
voyages 'might have been, were certain of a "rough
passage" during the concluding portion of their
journeys.
The boy, Bradley Nlckerson, had never ridden in
a stagecoach before and, after ten or fifteen minutes
of jolt and roll, he decided that he never wanted to
ride in one again. He had chosen the middle seat,
the back of which was a broad leather strap just high
enough to slap him vigorously on the back of the head
when he sac upright, and the cushions, from years of
wear, sloped down to a sharp edge in front. If he
crouched to avoid the strap, he was in danger of slid-
ing off the seat altogether.
It was dark inside the coach and very stuffy, and
the Captain was smoking. The snow struck the win-
dows as if some one was throwing it in handfuls.
There was some straw on the floor, intended to warm
the feet of passengers who traveled on such nights as
this, but Bradley's feet did not reach the floor, and
there was a vigorous draught of fresh air coming
through the door cracks. In the lulls of the wind,
Mr. Small's voice was faintly heard singing "Beulah
land" or swearing at the horses.
Suddenly Captain Titcomb, who had been silent
so far, spoke.
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
1 6 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"Heavy sea on to-night," he observed. " 'Pcara
to me Bamey'd better take a reef. She's rollin' con-
sider'ble."
The boy laughed and said, "Yes, sir."
"Goin' all the way to Orham?" asked the Captain.
"Yes, sir."
* "Got folks over there, I presume likely. Friends,
or nothin' but jest relations?"
"Relations, I — I guess."
"Sol Well, I've got a good many relations over
there m^elf. Fact is, IVe got relations, seems to
me, 'most everywheres. Father used to have so
many of 'em, that when he went visitin' he used to
call it 'goin' cousinin'.' My name's Titcorab ; what
do they call you when your back ain't turned?"
The boy laughed again, in a puzzled way — he
- scarcely knew what to make of his questioner — and
said that his name was Bradley Nickerson.
"Nickerson, hey? That settles it; you're a Cape
Codder. Minute I meet anybody named Nickerson
I always know they've got the same kind of sand in
their boots that I have. Is it Obcd Nickerson's folks
you're goin' to see?"
"No, sir. I'm goin' to liVe with Miss Priscilla
Allen. Her and her sister; they was some of moth-
er's people."
"Sho ! well I swan I" muttered the Captain. "Prissy
and Tempy, hey? Then Dan wan't foolin'. And
you're goin' to live with 'cm?"
"Yes, sir. Do you know 'em ?"
"Who — ^me? Oh, yes I I know 'em. I'm a
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE ORHAM STAGE 17
partic'lar friend of theirs. That Is," he added, cau-
tiously, "I call on 'em once in a while jest to say 'How
are you ?' Why ? You didn't hear any of them fel-
lers at the depot say anything 'bout me and them, did
you? No I Well, all right, I jest thought .
Oh, yes I I know 'em. Nice folks as ever was, but
what you might call a little mite 'sot in their ways.'
Do you always wipe your feet when you come into the
house?"
"Why — why — yes, sir; if I don't forget it."
"All right; it's a good habit to git into, 'specially
if you're goin' to walk on Prissy's floors. Some-
times I've wished I could manage to put my feet in
my pocket when I've been there. I wonder if I knew
your father? What was his name?"
Bradley told his father's name and, in response to
the Captain's tactful questioning, a good deal more
besides. In fact, before long Captain Titcomb knew
all about the boy, where he came from, how he hap-
pened to come, and all the rest. And Bradley, for
his part, learned that his companion commanded the
coasting schooner Thomas Doane; that he had been
a sailor ever since he was fourteen; that he had a
marvelous fund of sea yarns and knew how to spin
them ; and that he — Bradley — liked him.
By and by the Captain noticed that the boy's re-
plies to his cheerful obser\-ations were growing rather
incoherent, and, suspecting the reason, he ceased to
talk. A few minutes later he leaned forward and
smiled to find his fellow traveler, who had slipped
down upon the cushion, fast asleep. Carefully he
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
1 8 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
drew up the boy's feet, made him more comfortable,,
and taking the worn laprobe from his own kneest
threw it over the sleeper. Bradley dozed on in the
darkness. An hour went by, and then he was awak-
ened by the coach stopping. Outside some one was
yelling, "Hi, there!" at the top of his lungs.
"Don't be scared, Bradley," said the Captain.
"It's only foolish Sol."
He lowered the upper half of the window as he
spoke and Bradley saw a light zig-zagging down a
bank by the roadside. As it came nearer he saw that
it was a lantern in the hands of a tall man with red
whiskers, who, muffled in a striped tippet and a
mangy fur cap, came stumbling through the snow to
the coach.
"Heiio, Soli" hailed Mr. Small from the box.
"What d'you want?"
"Hi, there!" said the man with the lantern. "Got
any terbacker?"
The stage driver produced a plug, cut off a fair-
sized chunk with a big knife, and handed it down to
the man. ;
"There you be," he observed, and added, "would
you b'lieve it, Sol, I kind of s'picioned you wanted
terbacker when I fust heard you."
"Here's a plug I brought cm purpose for you, Sol,"
said Captain Titcomb, handing a carefully wrapped
package through the open window.
The man grinned, took the tobacco, and stood grin-
ning and bowing as the coach went on.
"That's foolish Sol Newcomb," e^^lained Captain
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
THE ORHAM STAGE 19
Titcomb. "His tap riggin's out of gear, but he's a
harmless critter. Lives ofE in the woods here, and
there ain't a trip this coach makes, day or night, that
he ain't waitin' for it, to beg terbacker. Some folks
carry a piece on purpose for him."
The next time Bradley awoke, Captain Titcomb
was standing on the ground by the open door of the
coach.
"Good night. Brad," he said. "Here's where I'm
bound for. You've got a five-minute ride or so more
'fore you git to the old mai — that is, to Prissy and
Tempy's. I'll see you to-morrer- You and me's
goin' to be chums, you know."
The door was shut; Mr. Small struck up "Camp-
town Races," and the stage bumped on again. This
time the boy did not sleep, but, holding on to the
strap, tried to peer through the snow-crusted window.
He saw a light here and there, but little else. After
a short interval the coach turned a sharp comer,
rolled on for perhaps twice its length, and then
stopped.
Mr. Small opened the door and Bradley, looking
past him, saw the side of a large house, and a lighted
doorway with two female figures, one plump and the
other slender, standing in it. From behind them
the lamplight streamed warm and bright and sent
their shadows almost to his feet.
"Come on, bub," said the stage driver, "here's
where you git out. Miss Prissy," he shouted, "here's
your new boarder,"
by Google
?
THE OLD MAIDS."
BRADLEY, being what his late "Uncle
Solon" had called a "noticin' boy," re-
membered Captain Titcomb's hint con-
cerning the foot wiping, and his first
move, after crossing the Allen thresh-
old, was to rub his worn brogans thoroughly on
the home-made rope mat. After one glance about
the big dining-room, however, he scoured them
again, this time with even more pains and attention
to detail.
The plump wranan, whom Mr. Small had ad-
dressed as "Miss Prissy," was counting into the
M
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
THE "OLD MAIDS" ai
stage-driver's palm a sum in small change from a
portentous black wallet that fastened with a strap.
"Forty-five and ten is fifty-five and five 13 sixty,"
she said, "and ten is seventy and five in pennies is
seventy-five. There 1 I b'lieve that's right, Mr.
Small. Would you mind shutting the gate when
you drive out? Mr. Crosby brought us a load of
wood this afternoon, and I told him he needn't shut
it, because you would want to come in by and by. But
I shouldn't /eel easy if I knew it was open all night.
Thank you. Good night."
"Good night," said the driver, pocketing the
money with a grunt and a jingle. Like the boy, he
had been very careful not to step oS the mat. "Good
night, Miss Tempy. Snow's lettin' up a little mite;
guess 'twill be clear by momin'. Good night, Brad."
The plump lady closed the door behind him, just
in time to shut out the opening notes of the "Sweet
By and By." Then she dropped the hook into the
staple, wound the leather strap carefully about the
wallet, placed the latter in a compartment of a tall
chest of drawers in the comer, turned the key upon
it and put the key under the alabaster candlestick on
the mantel. Then she turned to the boy, who, hold-
ing his carpet-bag with both hands, sttU stood un-
easily on the mat, while the slim lady fidgeted in front
of him.
"Bradley," said the plump lady — she was dressed
in some sort of black material that rustled, and wore
a lace collar, jet earrings and a breastpin with a
braided lock of hair in the center of it — "Bradley,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
42 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
we're real glad to see you. I'm Miss Priscilla ; this
is my sister, Miss Temperance."
"Yes, Bradley," coincided "Miss Tempy," 'Ve're
real glad to see you." She was the younger of the
two, and was gowned in what the boy learned later
was her "brown poplin." Her hair was not worn
plain, like her sister's, but had a little bunch of curls
over each ear. She also wore a hair breastpin, but
her earrings were gold.
Bradley shook the extended hands, Miss Prissy's
red and dimpled, and Miss Tempy's thin and white
with two old-fashioned rings on the fingers.
"Won't you — won't you set down?" ventured
Miss Tempy, after a rather awkward pause.
"Why, yes, of course," said Miss Prissy, "and
take your things right off — do."
Bradley placed the carpet-bag on the comer of the
mat, and pulled off the shabby overcoat. The jacket
and trousers beneath were also shabby, but it was at
his shoes that Miss Prissy glanced and, oddly enough,
their ccmdition served to break the formality.
"My goodness me!" she ejaculated; "jest look at
his poor feet, Tempy Allen I Come right over to the
stove this minute and take off those shoes; they're
soppin' wet through."
"No, ma'am," protested the boy. "They ain't,
honest. They only look so."
"Don't tell me/" commanded Miss Prissy. "Go
right over to the stove this minute."
Bradley reluctantly obeyed, stepping gingerly
across the spotless oilcloth, and taking as long strides
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "OLD MAIDS" 23
as possible. It did not add to his comfort to see
Miss Tempy shake the melting snow into the center
of the rope mat, fold the latter carefully together, and
disappear with tt into the kitchen.
Miss Prissy piloted him to the chintz-covered
rocker by the big "air-tight" stove. Then she pro-
ceeded to unlace the patched brc^ns, commenting
in an undertone upon the condition of the stockings
beneath.
"I'm 'fraid," said Bradley, fearfully, "that I've
got some snow water on your floor, ma'am."
"Don't say a word I Thank goodness, your feet
ain't so wet as I thought they was. Put 'em right on
the rail of the stove there, while I go up to the
garret and get those slippers of father's. I'll be right
back."
She hurried out of the room, just as her sister en-
tered it by the other door.
"Now set right still," said Miss Tempy, bustling
about with the steaming teakettle in her hand. "I'm
goin' to make you some pepper tea. There's noth-
in' in the world like pepper tea when you're likely to
catch cold."
"Pepper tea" was a new prescription for the boy,
and he watched with interest while Miss Tempy
turned some milk into a bowl, flooded it with boiling
water, added a spoonful of sugar, and vigorously
shook the pepper box over the mess.
"There !" she said. "Now drink that, every drop.
Ain't you hungry?"
Bradley, with tears in his eyes — the result of the
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
24 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
first swallow of pepper tea — gaspingly protested that
he wasn't hungry — not very. The sight and smell
of the loaded supper table were so tempting that the
denial was rather half-hearted.
"Not very/ When did you have anything to eat
last ?"
"Mr. Bartlett — he's the s'lectman at Wellmouth —
gave me a sandwich at the depot 'fore I started,
ma'am, and I bought a turnover at Haraiss."
"My sakesi Prissy" — to her sister, who came
rustling in-—- "he hasn't et a thing but a sandwich and
a turnover since mornin'."
"Land I" was Miss Prissy's comment. She pro-
ceeded to engulf the youngster's feet in a pair of
enormous carpet slippers, the knobs and hollows un-
der their faded roses showing where the toes of the
late Captain Darius had found lodging. A smell of
camphor pervaded the room.
"Oh, don't those look like father 1" sighed Miss
Tempy. "How many times I've seen him in that
very rocker with those slippers on, readin' his Item,
and "
"I'm 'frald they ain't a very good fit," interrupted
the practical Miss Prissy. "S'posc they'll stay on?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Bradley, trying to be agree-
able ; "they're real pretty, with flowers on 'em so."
"Prissy and me gave those to father the second
Christmas before he died," observed Miss Tempy,
reminiscently. "He used to say he got so much com-
fort out of 'em. Yes, Prissy, I know. Now come
right over to the table, Bradley, and set down."
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "OLD MAIDS" 25
"What's in that bowl?" asked her sister, sharply.
"Tcmpy Allen, have you been roastin' that poor
child's stomach out with your everlastin' pepper tea?"
Miss Tempy drew herself up indignantly. "I
should think you'd be ashamed to talk so, Prissy,"
she said, "after you've seen what pepper tea's done
for me!"
"Oh, well ! 'tain't worth makin' a fuss about. Now
Bradley, speak right out if there's anything you want
that ain't here, won't you? We've had our sup-
per."
Bradley said "Yes, ma'am," obediently. Privately
his firm belief was that every eatable in Orham was
on that supper table. There was "marble cake" —
it was misnamed so far as its texture was concerned —
"two egg" cake and fruit cake from the tin box in
the parlor closet. There was "beach-plum" pre-
serve and crab-apple jelly, and barberries preserved
with slices of sweet apple. For substantial, milk
toast and potted spiced mackerel were in evidence.
As a crowning delicacy there was a wicker-covered
Canton china jar of preserved ginger.
As the boy ate he looked about the room. It was
a big room with a low ceiling, spotlessly whitewashed.
The oilcloth on the floor was partially covered with
braided rag mats with carpet centres. On the win-
dow shades were wonderful tinted pictures of castles
and mountains. The table was black walnut, and
there were five rush-seated chairs, each in its place
against the wall, and looking as if it were glued there
— the sixth of the set he occupied. Then there was
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
t6 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
the chintz-covered rocker and-another rocker, painted
black with s worn picture of a ship at sea on the back.
There was another ship over the face of the tall
wooden clock in the comer. This craft was evi-
dently the "Flying Dutchman," for every time the
clock ticked It rolled heavily behind a fence of tin
waves, but didn't advance an inch. On the walls
were several works of art, including a spatter-work
motto, a wreath made of sea shells under a glass, and
an engraving showing a boat filled with men, women
and children and rowed by a solemn individual in his
shirtsleeves, moving over a placid sheet of water to-
ward an unseen port.
"The name of that picture is 'From Shore to
Shore,' " said the observant Miss Tempy. "You see
there's the children in the bow, and the young man
and his lady-love next, and the father and mother
next to them, and the old folks in the stem. It's a
beautiful picture — so much deep meanin' in it.
There's some lovely poetry under it that you must
read; all about the voyage of life. Help yourself to
the preserved ginger," she added. "It came all the
way from Calcutta. Father used to bring us so much
of it. That ginger-jar looks so like him."
Bradley began to think that the parental Allen
must have been a queer-looking old gentleman. Miss
Tempy continued :
"Of course, father didn't bring that jar," she said.
"That was one of Cap'n Titcomb's presents. He got
it in New York."
"Cap'n Titcomb?" repeated the boy, whose bash-
by Google
THE "OLD MAIDS" 27
'fulness was wearing off. "He came over m the coach
with me to-night."
The effect of this announcement was remarka-
ble. Miss Prissy looked at Miss Tempy, and the
latter returned the look. Strange to say, both col-
- ored.
"Cap'n Titcomb?" faltered Miss Prissy. "Cap'n
Ezra Titcomb ?"
"Yes, ma'am. He talked to me 'most all the way.
I liked him first rate."
"Why — ^why, I do declare! I didn't know the
Cap'n was expected, did you, Tempy?"
"No, I'm sure I didn't I" exclaimed the flustered
younger sister. "Did he — did he tell you why he
was comin', Bradley?"
"No, ma'am, but I heard him tell the man that
drove the coach that he had shore leave for a week,
'cause his schooner was laid up for repairs. He said
he knew you, though, and that he was comin' 'round
to see me to-morrer."
This remark caused quite as much embarrassment
and agitation as that concerning the Captain's pres-
ence in the coach. The two ladies again glanced hur-
- ricdly at each other.
"Goodness gracious !" exclaimed Miss Prissy, "and
the settin'-room not swept and the windows not
washed. I'll have to get up early to-morrer momin'.
I'm so glad I fixed that rufilc on my alpaca," she
added, in an absent-minded soliloquy.
"And I must finish that tidy for the sofy," said
Miss Tempy, nervously. "I've only got a little more
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
28 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
to do on it, thank goodness 1 Prissy, I'm going to
put an iron on ; I want to press my other collar. Did
— lUd the Cap'n say anything more about me — us, I
mean ?" she added, lookmg at the stove.
"No, ma'am, he didn't," replied the boy. "He
jest asked about me, and told stories and talked."
Miss Tempy seemed a little disappointed and made
no comment. Her sister, too, was silent. Presently
Bradley yawned. He tried to hide it, but Miss
Prissy, coming out of her trance, saw him.
"My sakes !" she exclaimed, "what are we thinkin'
of, keepin' you up this way? It's after nine o'clock.
Let mc get the lamp. Tempy, you do up that soap-
stone for his feet."
She rose and went into the kitchen, returning with
a brass hand lamp, while her sister removed the oma-
mental top of the "air-tight" and, with a holder, took
out a hot slab of soapstone, which she proceeded to
wrap in several thicknesses of flannel.
When this operation was completed. Miss Prissy
led the way with the lamp, and the boy, doubling up
his toes to keep "father's" slippers on his feet, scuf-
Singly followed her through a dark hall, up a steep
staircase, in the niche by the first landing of which the
model of a fuIUrigged ship, sailing under a glass case
through a sea of painted putty, caught his eye ; then
through another hall, cold and dark, and into a large,
square sleeping room, with a high corded bedstead
in the centre,
"This is your room, Bradley," she said, placing the
lamp on the glass-knobbed bureau, "It's pretty cold.
by Google
THE "OLD MAIDS" 29
but we've aired the bed so there won't be any damp-
ness and the soapstone'll help wann up."
She turned back the several layers of patchwork
comforters, blankets and counterpane, and put the
hot stone in the centre of the billowy feather bed. ,
Then she fidgeted about in an embarrassed sort of
way, and finally asked :
"I — I s'pose you brought your nightgown with
you?"
"Yes, ma'am," and Bradley produced the ragged
relic from his carpet bag.
Miss Prissy took the nightgear between her finger
and thumb. "My soul I" was her only comment, but
its tone was all-sufficient. She disappeared, to re-
turn in a moment or two with a folded flannel gar-
ment in her hand.
"Here's one of father's," she said. "It'll be too
big for you, but you can wear it for two or three
nights, and me and Tempy'U make you some new
ones. Good night."
The lamp made a little oasis of light in the dusky
desert of "spare room." There were two or
three straight-backed chairs set squarely in their
places on the ingrain carpet ; some wax flowers under
a glass on the shelf, and a vase of dried "feather
grass" on a bracket in the comer. And everything,
from the blue bottles — intended to contain toilet
waters — in the centre of the knitted mats on the bu-
reau, to the gilt candlesticks with the dangling glass
prisms, looked as if they had been just where they
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
30 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
now were for years and years, and would resent any
Intrusion on their privacy.
Bradley undressed in a hurry, for the temperature
of the room was like that of the Arctic region. The
framed daguerreotypes on the walls — portraits of
wooden-faced seafaring gentlemen in black stocks
, with their hair curled behind their ears, and of ladies
in flowered scoop bonnets, their Bngcr rings realistic*
ally put in with gilt paint, gazed down upon him with
rigid disapproval. Even after he had lost his small
self in Captain Darius' camphor-scented legacy — the
flannel nightgown — and was floundering in the
depths of the feather bed, he felt that the pictured
eyes were looking at him through the dark as if their
owners said, indignantly, "What is a boy doing
here?"
The joists creaked overhead, the mice scuflled be-
hind the plaster, the surf boomed in the distance, and
the winter wind whined about the windows as if it,
too, were asking "What is a boy doing here?"
He was up early the next morning, and his dressing
was a sort of jig, for it was freezing cold. From his
window he could sec the Orham roofs and spires,
white and sparkling in the sunrise light. The long
hill behind the house, sloped, a snowy stretch, to the
inner inlet, which was filled with floating ice cakes.
The ocean side of the outer beach was white with a
dancing line of breakers, and the sea itself was a deep
blue, spangled with whitecaps.
When he went downstairs it was evident that
things had been going on. Miss Prissy came out of
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THE "OLD MAIDS" 31
the sitting-room, bearing a broom, and with her "al-
paca" gown covered with an apron. Miss Tempy,
her curls done up in papers, was busy with the "tidy"
for the sofa. Each of the sisters was nervous and
excited.
Miss Prissy said a stiff little grace at the breakfast
table. Miss Tempy had a large cup of "pepper tea"
for herself, and urged Bradley to partake, but the
elder sister came to the rescue and gave him hot milk
and water instead. After the meal was over and the
dishes washed, Miss Prissy went out to feed the hens
and Bradley went with her. The house, seen by day,
was a big, square building, badly in need of paint.
The roof was four-sided and sloped upward to a
cupola in the centre. From its closely shut front
door snow-covered box hedges in parallel lines de-
^ed the path to the front gate, also locked and fae-
tencd, and, like the front door, only used on occa-
sions. There was a large tumble-down barn, with
an empty pig-pen back of the house, and a hen-house
and yard m the rear of the barn.
Next door, to the left — on the right was a vacant
field — ^was a small story and a half cottage, separated
from the Allen household by a board fence. One of
the boards in this fence had fallen down, and as Brad-
ley, wading in Miss Pnssy's wake, passed this open-
ing, he saw a girl, apparently about his own age, open
the back door of the house next door and look out at
him. He wanted to ask who she was, but didn't feel
well enough acquainted with his guide to do so just
yet.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
32 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Just as the dozen hens and lonesome-looking
rooster were fed — Miss Prissy informed him that, by
and by, looking after the poultry would be one of his
duties — Miss Tempy's voice was heard calling ex-
citedly from the kitchen door.
"Prissyl" she screamed, "Prissy! come in the
house quick I He's comin' ; the Cap'n's comin' !"
"My land I" exclaimed the elder sister, wildly, and,
her dignity forgotten, she almost ran to the house,
followed by Bradley, who didn't understand the cause
of the excitement.
"Oh, my sakesi" ejaculated Miss Tempy, as they
entered the kitchen. "What made him come so early 1
You'll have to see him first, Prissy. I've got to Hx
my hair."
Miss Prissy rushed into the sitting-room, wheeled
a chair into place, set a tidy straight, laid the photo-
graph album exactly in the center of the table instead
of two inches from the edge, and patted her own hair
with her hands, dodging in front of the big gilt-
framed mirror as she did so. Then, as a smart knock
sounded on the dining-room door, she assumed her
"company" smile and marched sedately to receive the
visitor.
It was Captain Titcomb who had knocked, and,
after cleaning the snow from his boots on the
"scraper," he entered the house, bearing two pack-
ages wrapped in brown paper.
"Well, Prissy," said the Captain, laying down the
packages to shake hands, "how d'you do? Didn't
expect to see me in this port jest now, did you ?"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
THE "OLD MAIDS" 33
"No, indeed, Cap'n Titcomb," waathe reply. "But
we're real glad to see you all the same. Come right
in. Take your things oil. Bradley said he rode
down with you in the coach last night. Dreadful
storm we had, wasn't it ? How's your health
nowadays? Walk right into the sittin'-room. You
must excuse the lotrfcs of things; I've been
swcepin'."
There was a good deal more, but when Miss Prissy
stopped for breath, the Captain, who had thrown his
cap and overcoat on a chair, replied that the storm
was bad, that his health was good and that the room
looked "first rate,'* so far as he could see. Then he
held out his hand to the boy, who had seated himself
on a chair close to the door, and said, cheerily:
"Mornin', Brad. Well, how are you after you(
shake up last night? Wan't seasick after I got out,
was you ?"
Bradley grinned bashfully and stammered that he
was "all right."
"Good! We had a rugged trip comin' over,
Prissy. The old coach rolled so I felt like goin' on
deck and shortenin' sail. Your new boy here's goin'
to make a good sailor — I can see that. Where's
Tempy?"
"Oh, she's upstairs for a minute. She'll be right
down," answered Miss Prissy, carelessly. "Tel! me
what brought you home so unexpected."
"Sprung a leak and had to lay the old hooker up
for repairs. That's a specialty of my owners — re-
pairs. They'd rather patch up for a hundred ye^rs
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
34 PARTlilERS OF THE TIDE
than build new vessels. I — I — Brad, fetch me them
bundles out of the din!n'-room."
Bradley obediently brought the brown^paper par-
cels, and the Captain handed one of them to Miss
Prissy, saying: "Here's a little somethin' I picked
up over to New York, Prissy. I thought you might
like it. I ain't got much use for such things, myself."
The lady took the package and began to untie the
string in a nervous manner, blushing a little as she
did so.
"I know it's somethin' nice, Cap'n Ezra, You do
b«y the nicest things. It's real kind of you to re-
member me this way. Oh I ain't that pretty I"
The package contained a Japanese silk fan, with
ivory sticks and a red tassel. Miss Prissy opened it
and spread it out in her lap, exclaiming over its
beauty, her face the color of the tassel.
"Oh I it ain't nothin'," said the Captain. "I did a
favor for a friend of mine that's skipper of a bark-
entine jest home from Hong Kong, and he gave it to
me. He had some stuff he'd brought for his daugh-
ter, and the duty on it would have been pretty ex-
pensive, so I fixed — but never mind that. I thought
maybe you'd like it to carry to church in the summer
time, or somethin'. Why, hello, Tempyl How
d'you do?"
The younger sister entered the room, her "poplin"
rustling and every curl in place. She gushingly shook
the Captain's hand, and said she was so glad to see
him.
"Oh, Tempyl" cred Miss Prissy, "jest look at this
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THE "OLD MAIDS" 35
lovely fan Cap'n Titcomb brought me. Did you ever
see anything so pretty?"
Miss Tempy exclaimed over the fan, but somehow
her enthusiasm seemed a little forced. It may be the
Captain noticed this; at any rate, he picked up the
second parcel and handed it to her, saying:
"Here's a little somethin' I hrraight for you,
Tempy. I don't know's you'll like it, but "
Miss Tempy's present also was a fan, precisely
like the other except that the tassel was pink. Miss
Prissy's interest in her sister's gift was intense, but
when it was discovered that in no important point
were the fans dissimilar and that neither was better
than its mate, both of the ladies appeared to be a
triSe disappointed, although they tried not to show it.
"We're so glad you've come, Cap'n," said Miss
Prissy, after the fans were laid on the table. "We've
got so many things to talk to you about, and we want
to ask your advice. Bradley, don't you think you'd
like to go out into the dinin'-room a little while?"
The boy, acting upon this decided hint, went into
the dining-room, and Miss Prissy shut the door after
him.
"Now, Cap'n Titcomb," she began, "I s'posc you
were awfully surprised to hear we'd took a boy to
bring up? Well, you ain't any more surprised than
we are to think we should do such a thing. But it
seemed as if we jest had to, or else give up bein'
Christians altogether. I'll tell you how it was."
And she did tell him, beginning with the exact re-
lationship between Bradley's mother and the Aliens,
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36 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
expatiating upon the shiftlessness of the boy's father
and how he "never saved a cent," nor even took out
an insurance policy to provide for his son, in case of
his own death.
"Father," she continued, "lost all patience with
Ben years before he died and we didn't write nor any-
thing. Fact is, we didn't know about the boy at all,
until we read in the papers about Sophia and Ben's
bein' lost when his vessel was wrecked. Leavin' the
poor little chap in Solon Nickerson's care was another
proof of Ben's carelessness. It's wrong to speak ill of
the dead, but Solon was the worst good-for-nothin' I
It's a mercy that the Lord took him before he'd
had a chance to ruin the boy entirely. Well, Tempy
and me have set up nights and talked and talked and
talked, but we couldn't see but one right thing to do,
so we did It. But, mercy me !" she exclaimed, lifting
her hands, "what on earth we'll do with a boy is
more'n / know. What shall we do?"
"Bring him up in the way he ought to go, I guess,"
replied the Captain, calmly. "Send him to school,
first thing."
"There, Prissy I" exclaimed Miss Tempy, "that's
what / said. Send him to school, and then to high
school, and then to college. Wesleyan College is a
nice quiet place, and so many ministers come from
there that they'll probably teach him to be a minister.
Then, by that time, Mr. Langworthy'U be pretty old
and he'll be givin' up the church here and Bradley
can take it. I always wished we had a minister in the
family."
by Google
THE "OLD MAIDS" 37
"Sakes alive 1" snapped her sister, impatiently,
"seems to me you're countin' your chickens a good
ways ahead. Mr. Langworthy might die to-morrer
for all you know, or the society might bust up or
'most anything. Besides, it'll cost somethin' for all
that education."
"Of course it will," said Miss Tempy, "but there's
father's insurance money."
"How long do you think " began Miss Prissy,
but stopped in the middle of the sentence.
"Well," said Captain Titcomb, diplomatically,
"he'll go to school for a while, at any rate, and he
might as well begin right away. How is he off for
clothes?" he added.
"Hasn't got any that are fit for anything but the
rag-bag," replied Miss Prissy, with decision. "And
that's another thing. Who's goin' to buy 'era for
him? I'm sure / don't know what a boy needs
to wear any more than a cat. And he's got
to have everything. I jest wish you'd have seen
that — that thing he was goin' to sleep in," ^e
added.
"I'll buy his fit-out, if you want me to," said the
Captain. "Take him down to Weeks' store right
now, if you say the word."
"Oh! I wish you would. You pay Mr. Weeks
and I'll pay you."
"Get him nice clothes, Cap'n Ezra," said Miss
Tempy. "The men in our family have always been
good dressers."
"Get sensible ones that'll wear," said the practical
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
38 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Miss Prissy. "Not any more expensive than is neces-
sary, but good."
They pressed the Captain to stay to dinner, or, at
least, to return for that meal, but he declined, prom-
ising, however, to dine with them before he went back
to his vessel.
"Come on, Brad," he said, entering the dining-
room, "you and me's goin' on a cruise down town.
Want to go?"
Of course the boy wanted to go. He had been
spending his time in the dining-room reading the
poetry beneath the "Shore to Shore" picture and in
spelling out the framed certificate over the mantel,
vrhich testified that "Darius Allen, Master," was a
member of the Boston Marine Society.
Bradley put on the shabby overcoat and cap for
the last time, and walked down to the back gate and
along the sidewalk with the Captain.
"Well, Brad," said the latter, "how do you like
your new folks?"
"First rate, sir," said the boy.
"Pretty old-fashioned craft, but seaworthy, both
of 'em. Did you remember to wipe your feet?" he
added, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Yes, sir,"
They walked on without speaking for a while, then
Bradley, wishing to please his companion, said :
"Those fans were awful pretty. I s'posc you
brought 'em both alike so Miss Prissy nor Miss
Tempy wouldn't think you liked one more than the
other, didn't you?"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE ''OLD MAIDS'- 39
Captain Titcomb stopped short, and looked down
at the lad with wonder in his face.
"Say, Bradl" he exclaimed, "how old are you?"
"Goin' on thirteen, sir."
"Goin' on thirteen," repeated the Captain, slowly.
"Goin' on thir Weil, by crimustee 1 you've got
a head on you. If you're goin' to turn so sharp
as Say, son, I cal'late you and me was cut out
to sail together."
He continued to mutter to himself and to chuckle
all the way to the store, greatly to Bradley's aston-
ishment, for, for the life of him, the boy couldn't
see that he had said anything so wonderfully brilliant.
And, meanwhile, Miss Tempy seated in the rocker
by the window and holding a fan in each hand, was
examining them with the greatest care.
"Prissy," she said, at Iast> in a solemn tone,
"they're jest exactly alike."
"Yes," said her sister, with a stifled stgh, "they're
jest alike."
by Google
CHAPTER III.
THE "dog girl."
IN "Weeks' Store" was to be found an assort-
ment of wares ranging from potatoes and
razors to molasses and ladies' dress goods.
Somewhere within this extensive range was a
limited supply of what Mr. Weeks' advertise-
ment in the Item called, "Youths', Men's and
Children's Clothing in Latest Styles at Moderate
Prices." The styles were "late" — about a year late —
and the prices were moderate when the lengthy period
of credit given to customers is taken into c<»isidera-
tion.
Captain Titcomb, exchanging greetings with the
by Google
THE "DOG GIRL" 41
half dozen loungers by the stove, whose business
there was, as Mr. Weeks himself said, "to swap bad
tobacco smoke for heat," passed to the rear of the
store, followed by Bradley. There he proceeded to
select an entire outfit for the boy, calculated to clothe ■
him in successive layers, from the skin outward.
When the pile of garments on the counter was com-
plete, the captain and Mr. Weeks entered into a
lengthy argument concerning pdce. There was a
"Sunday hat" involved in the transaction, and about
this piece of headgear the battle raged fiercest.
"It's too much money, Caleb," said the Captain,
finally. "I guess I'll try the 'New York Store.' Tom
Emery's always treated me fair enough, and I'll give
him a chance. Ccnne on. Brad."
"I'll take off a quarter on the suit," conceded the
storekeeper, who was loth to see so much custom go
to a rival.
"No," was the reply. "That ain't enough to
amount to anything. Tell you what I'll do, Caleb.
Throw in that Sunday hat and I'll take the lot and
pay you cash for it, and run my risk of gitttn' the
money."
So the bargain was concluded on that basis. Brad-
ley retired to the back room, and emerged clothed in
his new garments and tremendously conscious of the
fact. The Captain said he looked so fresh that you
could "smell the paint on him."
"Say, Caleb," said "Squealer" Wixon, after Cap-
tain Titcomb and his protege had left the premises,
"did Ez tell you who that boy was?"
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42 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
"No, he didn't. I hinted two or three timeft, but
he wouldn't say."
"Well, I'll tell you. Twm the old maids' boy —
Ben Nickerson's son. Barney said he brought him
over in the coach last night."
"You don't mean itl" exclaimed the chopfallen
Mr. Weeks. "Well, if that ain't enough to
Ez made me throw in a hat that was wuth a doUar 'a'
a ha'f 'cause he said he'd pay cash for everything and
take his chance of gittin' his money back. And Prissy
and Tempy always pay cash for everything. Reg'Iar
Titcomb trick 1"
The loafers about the stove roared with de-
light.
"Oh, I tell you," remarked "Squealer," "you've got
to keep your weather eye peeled when you're dealin'
with Cap'n Ez. He'll have you, head and scales, if
you ain't careful."
"That's all right," grumbled "Bluey" Bacheldor,
"but he'll git fetched up all standin' some of these
days. You can call him smart if you want to, but
it's pretty risky smartness, most folks think. You
notice his schooner's always makin' 'record trips,* and
he's always havin* presents give him, and jl that.
How many presents did you have give to you, Cap'n
Jabez, when you was runnin' a coaster?"
"Not a one," indignantly replied the person ad-
dressed, Captain Jabez Bailey. "Not a one. What
I got I had to work for."
It may be that Captain Jabez overworked during
ills sea experiences. Certainly no one in Orham had
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "DOG GIRL" 43
known him to do a stroke of work since he retired to
live on his wife's earnings as a dressmaker,
"Well," commented Captain ErI Hedge, who was *
not a member of the circle, but had dropped in to buy
some tobacco, -"I like Cap'n Ez. He docs love to
git the best of a bargain, and he's a 'driver' on a ves-
sel, and perhaps he likes to shave the law pretty close
sometimes. Ez is a reg'lar born gambler for takin'
chances, but I never knew him to do a mean trick."
"What do you call that game he put up on the old
maids?" asked "Squealer, '•' "You knew 'bout that,
didn't you, Jabez ? Seems Prissy and Tempy wanted
to sell that little piece of cranb'ry swamp of theirs, -
'cause it didn't pay them to take care of it and keep
it in shape. Prissy told Seth Wingate about it and
Seth said he didn't want it, but that he'd give 'em
so and so — a fair price, consid'rin'. Well, they was
goin' to sell it to Seth, but Ez comes home 'bout that
time, hears of the deal and goes to Prissy and buys it
for fifty dollars more'n Seth ofiered. And inside of
three months along comes that Ostable Company and -
buys all that land for their big swamp. They say
Titcomb made more'n a hundred dollars out of that
deal. If you don't think that's a mean trick, Cap'n
Eri, you ask Seth Wingate what he thinks of it."
"I know about that," said Captain Eri, calmly;
"and I think it was jest another case of Ez's takin'
chances, that's all. Seth's growlin' is only sour
grapes. Ez knew the Ostable folks was talkin' 'bout
layin' out a big swamp over here some time or other.
He jest bought the Allen piece and run his risk. You
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
44 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
notice Prissy and Tempy ain't findin' no fault. They
think he's the cmly man in town. Fact is, he is the
only man, outside of the minister, that they'll have
any dealin's with. Queer pairin' ofi that is — Ez and
the minister!" he chuckled.
"Oh, women's fools, anyhow," snorted Captain
Jabez, savagely. "Ez Titcomb always could wind
'em 'round his fingers. He's been next door to keep-
in' comp'ny with more girls'n a few in this town
sence he was old enough to leave school. But he
don't go fur enough to gil engaged or nothin' like
that. Minute there's any talk that he's likely to git
married to one of 'em, away goes Ez, and that's the
end of that courtin'. And yet, spite of their talk
'bout his bein' slick, and hints that he's tricky, they're
always heavin' up to a feller, 'How smart Cap'n Tit-
comb is,' and 'Why don't you make money same as
Cap'n Ezry ?' 'Nough to make an honest man sick."
Captain Eri made his purchases and went home,
but the others continued to dissect Ezra Titcomb's
character, and the general opinion seemed to be that
he would "bear watchin'."
Meanwhile the Captain, unconscious of all this,
piloted Bradley to the corner of the road upon which
the Allen sisters lived, and there left him with a mes-
sage to the effect that he — the Captain — ^would call
next day. Then he sought his room at the "Travel-
er's Rest," there to read the paper of the day before;
while the boy, with his big bundle of old clothes and
new "extras," walked homeward alone.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "DOG GIRL" 45
The Allen house was on the "lower road," and to
resch It you turned the corner jtist above "Web"
Saunders' billiard room and went on past "Lem"
Mullett's stable, and the Methodist "buryln' ground"
— the sects in Orham cannot, apparently, agree even
after they are dead, for each denomination has Its
separate cemetery — past the late Captain Saunders'
estate and on up the hill overlooking the bay. Brad-
ley had just reached the little house next door to the
Aliens, when, through the side gate of its yard, there
darted a small, ragged-looking dog, barking as if it
went by steam. It was followed by a big dog, also
barking, and this in turn was followed by another
and still another. None of the animals was hand-
some and none looked as if it was good for much
except to bark, but each seemed to fceJ that it was its
special duty to devour the boy before the others got a
chance at him. 'On they came, a noisy procession,
growling and snapping.
Bradley put down his bundle and looked about for
a stone, but the snow covered the road and there were
no stones in sight. He poised himself on one foot
and held the other ready for a kick. The dogs
formed a circle about him and the racket was blood-
curdling.
Out of the gate darted a slim girl in a red dress,
brandishing a broom.
"They won't hurt you I" she screamed, running to
the rescue. "St(^ it, Peter I Be quiet, Rags! Go
home, Tuesday I WInfield, I'll give it to youl"
The dogs dodged the broom and retired to a safe
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
46 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
distance, wagging their tails and doing their best to
indicate that they were only making beheve, anyhow.
"Winfield," the small dog that had led the attack,
was the most persistant, and he snapped at the broom
in high glee, evidently considering that it was waved
for his particular amusement.
"They got away before I could stop 'em," panted
the girl. "Grandma's gone to the store and I went
out in the woodshed to play with 'em, and they
bounced out of the door first thing. They don't
mean anything; they're just full of it, that's all."
"I wasn't scared," said Bradley. "I didn't believe
they'd bite. I like dogs."
"Do you?" said the girl, eagerly. "So do I.
Grandma says she docs,, too, in moderation. The
old maids don't, though. Oh, I forgot. You're the
old maids' boy, ain't you? I saw you out in their
yard with Miss Prissy this momin'.'*
"Yes, I saw you, too. You live in here, don't
you?"
"Um-hum. Oh, my goodness I I haven't got any
rubbers on, and grandma said if I got my feet wet
to-day she didn't know but she'd skin me. I must
go right back and dry 'em before she comes. I've
had a cold; that's why I ain't to school. How'U
I ever get these dogs in?"
"I'll help you if you want me to," volunteered
Bradley.
"Will you? That's splendid. Come on I"
Bradley carried his bundle to the back steps of the
little house and then returned to assist at the dog-
by Googk'
THE "DOG GIRL" 47
catching. It wasn't an easy operation, but a tin dish,
scientifically rattled by his new acquaintance, tempted
all but the wary "WinHeld," and a bone finally de<
coyed the latter inside the woodshed, and the door
was slammed and bolted upon the humbugged pack.
"There I" exclaimed the girl, "that's all right. I
hope grandma won't notice the tracks in the snow.
If she's only forgot her glasses it's all right. Now
come into the kitchen till I put my feet in the oven.
What's your name ?"
"Bradley Nickerson. Most folks call me Brad."
"That's a good name. My last name's Baker. I
hate my first one — it's Augusta. Ain't that the
tvorslf Grandma calls me 'Gusty.' Ugh I You can
call me 'Gus' if you want to; it sounds more like a
boyV name. I wish I was a boy."
"Why?"
"Oh, because a boy can do things, and doesn't have
to be 'ladylike.' If I was a boy nobody would think
it was funny for me to like dogs, and I could have as
many as I wanted."
"I should think you had a good many now.
Where did you get 'em all?"
"Oh, just found 'em. Rags came here one day
himself. I call him Rags because he looks as if he
was all ravellin's. And Peter, the blacksmith gave
to me. Said I could have him if I'd get him out of
his sight. He sort of named himself. And Tues-
day was named that because I found him on Tuesday
when I was on a picnic over to East Hamiss. And
Winfield — ^hc's the newest one — came on Cap'n Bur-
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48 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
gess' fishing schooner and nobody wanted him, so they
gave him to me. I named him Witifield because his
face looks like our school-teacher — Winfield Scott
Daniels; hateful old thing) Wouldn't he be mad
if he knew I named a d(^ after him I You're goin*
to school, ain't you ?"
"I s'pose so. They haven't said anything about
it yet."
"I hope you will. You'll be upstairs, of course."
"Upstairs" means, in Orham, the grammar and
higher grades. "Downstairs" is the primary depart-
ment. Bradley answered that he supposed he should
be "upstairs." He was just beginning to go "up-
stairs" in Wellmouth.
"How do you like the old maids — Miss Prissy and
Tempy, I mean. Ain't they awful strict?"
"I don't know; I haven't been with 'em long
enough to find out. They're mighty clean, ain't
they?"
"Oh, dreadful ! And they don't like a noise and
they don't like dogs and they don't like me. They
call me the 'dog girl' ; I heard 'cm. One time I went
in there for grandma, and Tuesday and Peter fol-
lowed me and, first thing you know, they tracked mud
all over the dinin'-room. My! but wasn't Miss Prissy
madl But you just ought to have seen that Boor,"
she chuckled.
Bradley thought of the spotless oilcloth and ap-
preciated the situation. In the course of the conver-
sation that followed, he learned that Gus was an
orphan like himself, and that she lived there alcMrf
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THE "DOG GIRL" 49
with her grandmother. Suddenly the girl snatched
her steaming shoes out of the oven to run to the
window.
"I thought I heard the gate shut," she exclaimed.
"Yes, it's grandma. P'raps you'd better dodge out
of the other door. She'll ask questions and find out
about my feet if you don't. Good-by; p'raps I'll sec
you at school to-morrow."
Bradley picked up his bundle — he had brought it
in with him — and slipped out of the side door, pre-
senting himself, a moment later, in the glory of his
new clothes, to the critical gaze of the "old maids,"
And it was critical. For the next twenty minutes
the boy sympathized with the wooden gentleman with
the beautiful painted mustache whose business it was
to stand before the "general store" at Wellmouth,
with a placard attached to his coat bearing the words,
"This style $8.50." He stood in the centre of the
dining-room while the sisters walked in a circle about
him and verbally picked him to pieces, bit by bit.
Miss Prissy's final verdict was that the garments were
"real neat and sensible." Miss Tempy was not so
enthusiastic.
"They are nice and neat," she said, "but don't you
think they might be a little more stylish? Blue's a
nice solid color for the jacket, but if he had some dif-
Frent pants, seems to me 'twould set it ofE more. You
remember those plaid pants of father's, don't you,
Prissy? Still, I s'pose the Cap 'n knows best."
"Of course he does," replied her sister, crisply.
•'There isn't a nicer-dressed man than Cap'n Titcomb
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
50 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
around — that is, except the doctor and Mr. Lang-
worthy, and thejr have to wear Sunday clothes all the
time. Besides, we can make over some of father's
things for him, by and by, if we want to."
So Miss Tempy expressed herself at satisfied. As
a final aristocratic touch, she brought from the trunk
in the garret a large-figured silk handkerchief which,
tucked carefully into the breast pocket of Bradley's
jacket, with the comer artistically draped outside, was
pronounced "just the thing."
At half-past four that afternoon the sisters con-
voyed the new member of their household to the
boarding place of the school-teacher, Mr. Daniels, in
order to arrange for the boy's entering school next
day.
This expedition was a very formal affair. Both
of the ladies were arrayed in their best, with bonnets
that were the height of fashion ten years before, and
"dolmans" that Miss Tempy "made over" religiously
each fall. Miss Prissy, the business manager, in-
spected every window and door to be sure they were
locked, and she carried with her a large carpet-bag —
much like Bradley's — the sole contents of which were
three extra handkerchiefs, the back-door key and the
wallet with the leather strap. Mr. Daniels received
them graciously, and condescended to say that he
should expect the new pupil the following morning.
When Bradley started for school the next day his
head was ringing with instructions from the "old
maids" concerning his behavior and attention to his
studies.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "DOG GIRL" 51
"Now be a good boy, Bradley," said Miss Prissy.
"Yes, Bradley," said Miss Tcmpy. "Remember,
we expect a great deal of you. All our people have
been smart scholars."
Just as he turned into the "main road," he heard
someone calling, and turned to see his acquaintance
of yesterday, the girl next door, running to catch up,
her hood slipped back from her hair and a dented tin
pail in her hand. Being a girl, Gus carried her noon
luncheon during the winter months, instead of coming
home to eat it.
"Oh !" she panted, "I'm all out of breath. I saw
you go past the house and knew you was goln' to
school, so I just fairly flew after you. You're goin'
upstairs, aren't you? Did you see old Daniels?"
"Yes, I saw him. He's a' cross-lookin' chap. Is
he strict?"
"You bet he is ! Give you checks if you whisper,
and ten checks means stay in recess for a week. I've
only got five so far. Don't you think he looks like
Winfieid — my dog, I mean ? I had such a time with
that dog just now. He was following me and I had
to drive him back. He went under the shed and hid,
but goodness knows how long he'll stay there."
On the way to school they met another girl whom
Gus introduced as Clara Hopkins, a "chum" of hers.
"She's tip-top; I sit with her. She's got 'most as
many checks as I have," was her recommendation.
"Upstairs" at the schoolhouse was a large rown
with rows of double desks on each side and a wide
aiale In the centre. One side of the aisle was the
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
52 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"girls* side," and the other was for the boys. Mr.
Daniels stiffly shook hands with the new scholar,
asked him some questions concerning his progress in
his studies, and showed him where he should sit. The
more advanced pupils occupied the desks at the rear
of the room, and the younger ones — Bradley among
them — sat in front. Bradley's seat mate was an
older boy than he, rather good-looking, with curly
hair. His name, so he whispered before school be-
gan, was Sam Hammond.
"We will come to order," commanded Mr. Dan-
iels, with dignity. "Position!"
Each scholar folded his or her arms and sat back
in the seat.
"I will read," said the teacher, "from the Scrip-
tures."
He did so, concluding as follows: "Amen. Sec-
ond class in spelling."
The second class in spelling took its place upon the
settees at the rear of the room and proceeded to spell
words as given out by Mr. Daniels, following each
spelling by a definition and a sentence containing the
word. One tall, gawky chap with red hair was given
the word "Aspire."
"Aspire," he shouted, "A-s-p-i-r-e, Aspire — to
aim. The man will aspire the gun at the
bird."
The school tittered, and Mr. Daniels pounded his
desk with the ruler. "Ye-es," he drawled, with with-
ering sarcasm, "that Is delightful. What a shock for
the bird I"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "DOG GIRL" 53
"It said it meant 'to aim high' in the dictionary,"
protested the red-haired one.
"The dictionary is intended to be used by human
beings, not calves," was the crushing reply. "Sit
down, Bossy."
The tall boy sat down with alacrity, while the
school shouted at the official joke.
"Bossy !" whispered Bradley's seat mate. "That's
Tim Bloomer. Ain't he a sculpin?"
"Samuel Hammond," observed Mr. Daniels, "two
checks for whispering."
At recess Bradley went out on the playground for
a little while, but he felt rather lonesome among so
many strangers, and so returned to the schoolroom.
Jt was empty, the teacher taking his customary "con-
stitutional" in the yard. After a few minutes Gus
came bounding in,
"Why, Brad !" she exclaimed, "whcre've you been?
I've been lookin' for you. Why didn't you come on
out?"
"Oh, I don't know," replied the boy. "I don't
know any of the fellers yet."
"Well, you're goitt' to know 'em. Oh, my good-
ness! Winfield!"
The stub-tailed dog sat panting at her feet, three
inches of red tongue hanging from its mouth.
"You naughty, naughty dog I" cried Gus, almost
In tears. "How dare you I Go home this minute I"
"Go home, Winfield I" commanded Bradley, com-
ing to the rescue.
Winfield had gone home by the shed route, already
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54 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
that morning, and didn't propose to do it again.
When his mistress tried to catch him, he retreated to
a safe distance and wagged his tail.
"Oh, what shall we do?" wailed Gus. "Recess is
'most over, and if Mr. Daniels finds him here, I don't
know what'll happen 1"
Bradley made a dash at the dog and the latter
itarted on the run about the room. At length they
drove him out the "boys' door" only to have him
reappear through the "girls' door" at the other side.
Finally, being penned in with both doors shut and
thoroughly frightened, he dashed into the closet
which was between the doors, and hid behind the
woodbox.
"Now," said Gus, exultantly, "you watch that
he don't get out, and I'll crawl in after him.
Oh, my goodness 1 there's Mr. Daniels cwnin'
now."
The cowhide boots of the teacher were heard on
rhe stairs. Bradley, in desperation, shut the closet
door upon the imprisoned Winfield. Mr. Daniels
stepped to the rope in the entry and gave it a pull.
The bell above responded with a single note, and the
scholars began to pour up the stairs.
"We will come to order," commanded the teacher.
Bradley, glancing across the aisle at Gus, saw that she
was as white as the whitewashed wall.
"First class in arithmetic," said Mr. Daniels, and
thea, from the closet, came a long, dismal whine.
The "first class in arithmetic" stopped in its trades
and looked aghast. The whole school — with two
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THE "DOG GIRL" 55
exceptiona — pricked up its ears. The exception*
trembled.
"Ow-wow-wow I" came from the closet. Mn
Daniels strode across the floor and opened the door.
"Whose dog is this?" he demanded, sternly.
No one answered.
"Come out of that I" commanded the teacher, sar-
agely. He reached behind the woodbox and, aetzing
the cowering Winfield by the "scruff" of the neck,
tossed him into the room. "Whose dog is this ?" he
repeated.
Most of the scholars knew whose d(^ it was, but
none of them told.
"I asked a question 1" thundered the master.
"Who put that — *hat creature in the closet?"
' Bradley looked at his fellow-conspirator. Then he
held up his hand. "I did," he said.
Mr. Daniels' mouth opened in surprise. New
pupils did not usually begin tn this way.
"You did?" he gasped.
"Yes, sir. He fol I mean he came into the
room when 'twas recess, and we — I tried to put him
out and he wouldn't go."
"So you shut him in the closet. Brilliant youth I
As this is your £rst day here, I suppose I must stretch
a point and believe it was not done on purpose. If it
had been any other of the scholars, I should have
made an example of 'em. I am surprised that you
should treat your little brother" (appreciative titter
from the school) "in such a manner. You may put
him out."
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5 6 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
It was easy enough to command, but not so easy to
do. The dog, frightened at the crowd, backed away
when Bradley approached.
"Come here, Winfield," said the boy, his face
a bright crimson. The school giggled at the
name.
"Winfield?" repeated Mr. Daniels. "Why that
name, if you please?"
"I — I don't know, sir."
"You don't knowf"
"No, sir." And then the boy had a happy
thought. "He's named after Gen'ral Hancock, I
guess,"
General Winfield Scott Hancock, in his role of
statesman, was very much in the public eye just at this
time.
Mr. Daniels hesitated. He more than sus-
pected the dog's real namesake, but he wasn't sure,
and, being a weak man, was afraid of making a mis-
take.
"Well, put the creature out I" he snarled, and then,
losing his temper and aiming a kick at the dog, he
commanded, "Git out, you brute 1"
That kick was a mistake. Winfield wasn't used to
kicks, and this one scattered his doggish senses com-
pletely. He started on a panicky, yelping flight,
hotly pursued by Bradley. Down the aisle by the
"boys' side," across the back of the room amongst the
feet of the "first class In arithmetic" and up the aisle
by the "girls' side" sped the chase. At the end of
the second lap the entire school was In an uproar.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
THE ''DOG GIRL" 57
Mr. Daniels, white with rage, took a hand l» the
pursuit and his efforts and those of two &-■ three
more volunteers only made matters worse.
At length the dog, hemmed in on both sides, hesi-
tated in the middle of the broad aisle. Suddenly he
darted toward the closet once more. Mr. Daniels
leaped to Intercept him, tripped, struck the stool upon
which the bucket of drinking water was placed and
sprawled upon the floor in the centre of a miniature
flood, while Winfield, leaping over him, darted
through the entrf and down the stait*, a shrieking
maniac.
The dripping Mr. Daniels was physically cool, but
mentally very warm indeed. "Checkf" were distrib-
uted with liberality and two boys were "feruled" be-
fore twelve o'clock came. One of these sufferers was
Bradley's seat mate, Sam Hammond.
Bradley went home alwie. When the "old maids"
asked him Innumerable questions concerning how he
"got along" at school, he simply answered "All
right" and gave no details. Miss Tempy was some-
what worried at his silence and confided to her sister
the fear that he had been "studyin' too hard." "All
our people have been dreadful keen students," she
said.
It was nearly one o'clock when the boy re-entered
the schoolyard. As he did so a shout went up fron.
a group near the fence.
"Here he Is I" yelled one of the older boys, y
"Here's your beau, Gus. He won't let 'em plagusT^
his girl, you bet I"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
\
58 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"No," shouted Sam Hammond. " 'Gusty's all
right now, ain't she? He'll take care of her.
" 'Gusty had a little dog,
It's fleece was black's a crow "
"You shut up!" screamed Gus, breaking from the
circle, and stamping her foot savagely. Her face
was red and there were tears in her eyes.
"It followed her to school one day," continued the
tormentor.
"What's the matter, Gus?" asked Bradley, coming
up.
"Haw, haw!" laughed Sam, gleefully. "I told
you so. Bradley'll take care of her.
"Bradley Nickerson, so they say,
Goes a-courtin' night and day;
Sword and pistol by his side.
And 'Gusty Bakcr'U be his bride."*
"What's the matter, Gus?" he added, mockingly.
"What is the matter?" repeated Bradley.
"None of your bus'nesa I" snapped Gus, who was
in no mood to be friendly with any one. "You jest
wait, Sam Hammond! I'll fix you! Got whipped
in school 1 Ha, ha I Cry baby 1" And she gave an
exaggerated imitation of her enemy's facial contor-
tions during the "feruling" that morning,
'Come on, Gus," interposed Clara Hopkins. "He
't worth talkin' to. Come on, I've got somethin'
tolshbw you."
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tOl!
THE "DOG GIRL" 59
Gus reluctantly suffered herself to be led away
amid the derisive hootings of Sam and his friends.
"Ain't you goin' with her?" asked Sam, provolt-
ingly. "She wants her Braddy, so's to take care of
her if Winfttld comes to school again."
Bradley's temper was slow to rise, but it was rising
now.
"Who are you talkin' to?" he demanded.
"You. Who do you s'pose?"
"Weil, you'd better shut up."
"/ had? S'pose I don't want to?"
"Then I'll make you — that's what I"
"You will?"
"Yes, I will." .
"You ain't the size. Take's a man, not a monkey.**
"I'll show you whether I'm the size or not."
"You will?"
"Aw, gee!" said one of the bigger boys. "I
wouldn't take that from no Wellmouth kid, if I was
you, Sam."
"Nor I, neither," said another.
Thus encouraged, Sam bristled up to his opponent
and looked down at him snecringly. Bradley didn't
give way an inch, and the two boys rubbed jackets as
they moved slowly about each other. The surround-
ing grotq) looked delightedly expectant.
"Stop your shovin'I" commanded Sam, giving his
enemy a push with his shoulder.
"Stop yourself," said Bradley, pushing back.
"I'll put a head on you so's the old maids won't
know you."
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
6o PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"I'll make you snivel worse'n you did in school this
momin'."
"Well, Sam!" exclaimed a spectator, in huge dis-
gust; " 'fore I'd take thati"
The Hammond boy did not really want to fight,
but, thus goaded, he suddenly gave Bradley a violent
push with both hands. The next instant both young-
ters were clasped tightly together, gripping each
other about the neck and wrestling savagely. In a
moment they fell with a thump and rolled over and
over, pounding, kicking and scratching. The snow
flew and the crowd whooped and pushed and strained
to see better.
Then there was a rush, a frightened scurry, and
both combatants were pulled apart and jerked to their
feet, while Mr. Daniels, holding each by the coat col-
lar, glared down upon them.
"You may come with me," he said, with chilling
calmness.
The scene in the schoolroom that followed was
brief but exciting. Bradley held out his hand and
bit his lip stubbornly while the ferule descended — i
(Hicc — ^twice — twelve times.
"There!" said the teacher. "Now you may take
your seat. For a new scholar you begin extremely
well. Now, Samuel!"
The Hammond hand having received its share of
beating, and its owner also sent to his seat, Mr.
Daniels said : "Both of you will lose your afternoon
recess. I shall also give each of you a note, telling
of your punishment, to take home."
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THE "DOG GIRL" 6i
At half-past four that afternoon, Bradley, with
the note tightly clasped in his hand, walked dismally
up the walk to the Allen back door. The thought
that he had -disgraced himself forever in the eyes of
his protectors burned like a iire under his new cap. ,
Also, there was a bitter feeling that Gus, the cause of i
all his trouble, had not been near him to console or'
ask pardon.
It was typical of the boy that he had not thought
of destroying the note. He handed it to Miss Prissy
the moment he opened the door. She read it and sat
heavily down in the chintz rocker.
"My soul and body !" she wailed. "Tempy Allen,
come here this minute ! Here I for mercy's sake read
this I"
Miss Tempy's agitation was even more marked
than that of her sister.
"Oh, oh, oh!" she cried, waving the condemning
sheet of paper like a distress signal. "How could
you ! how could you I I don't b'Heve a relation of
the Aliens was ever whipped in school before. What
shall we do, Prissy And his first day, too!"
Bradley, with direful thoughts of self-destruction
in his mind, twisted his new cap into a ball, but said
nothing.
"He says you were fightin' and there was somethin'
else," said Miss Prissy. "Tell the whole story now,
every word."
The boy began slowly. He told of shutting the
dog in the closet, but was interrupted by the older
sister, who demanded to know whose dog it was.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
CHAPTER IV.
THE "last day."
WHEN the Captain called, which he did the
nextforenoon,the tale of Bradley's event-
ful first day at school was told him In all
its harrowing completeness. Miss Prissy — by previ-
ous agreement — acted as story-teller, and Miss
Tempy was a sort of chorus, breaking In every few
moments to supply a neglected detail, or comment on
a particular feature.
"And we didn't know what to do," concluded Miss
Prissy. "He wan't goin' to tell us whose dog it was,
and *'
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THE "LAST DAT' 65
"I don't b'lieve he ever would have told," broke in
Miss Tempy, "if that 'dog girl' herself hadn't come
bouncin' in, and "
"And he won't promise not to speak to her again,
neither," continued the older sister. "We sent him
to bed without any supper "
"That is, any real supper," interrupted the chorus.
"Of course we took up some cookies and things when
we found he wouldn't come down, but— "
"And he won't promise this momln', and he went
to school without promisin'. What do you think we
ought to do, Cap'n Titcomb?"
"Yes, Cap'n," Miss Tempy joined in the appeal.
"What do you think we ought to do?"
"Well," replied the Captain — he had listened to
the recital with a very solemn face, but there was a
twinkle in his eye — "well, I don't know. It makes
me think of what the old man — dad, I mean — said to
me once, when I was a little shaver 'bout Brad's age.
The old man was a great feller for horses and, when
he give up goin' to sea, he used to always have two or
three horses 'round the place, and there was gin'rally
a colt to be broke. You never had much dealin's with
colts, I s'pose?"
"No," answered Miss Tempy, thoughtfully.
"Long's father lived we kept a horse — Dexter was
his name — but I s'pose he wasn't really what you'd
call a colt."
Captain Ezra — he remembered the ancient and
wheezy Dexter — gravely agreed that the latter was
not precisely a colt.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
66 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"Wei!," he continued, "I always thought I was
pretty nigh as smart as the next feller, and I was for-
ever teasin' the old man to let me break one of the
colts. Finally he let me try it. After I'd had a
lively ten minutes or so, and was roostin' heels up in
a snarl of rosb'ry bushes, with the colt grinnin' at me,
so's to speak, over the stone wall, the old man come
loafin' up, and he says:
" 'Ez,' he says, 'what you doin', — restin'? Better
git up, hadn't you, and take another try? The colt's
ready,' he says.
"I stopped picking the rosfa'ry briars out of my
face, and tried to grin, and told him that I guessed
I'd had enough.
" 'Oh I' says he, 'you mustn't talk that way. It's
a mutual breakln',' he says, 'and you and the colt are
jest gittin' usrd to one another's little ways.'
"P'raps that's the way 'tis here," continued the
Captain. "Brad and you two ladies are jest gittin'
used to each other's little ways. Of course you must
remember it is only a colt you're handlin'. I think
the boy's aU right, and I don't object to his stickin'
by those that he thinks stuck by him. Par's the girl's
concerned, she always struck me as a pretty trim little
craft."
"She's noisy and a tomboy," said Miss Prissy, de-
cidedly.
"Yes," said Miss Tempy; "and she likes those
dreadful dogs."
"Um--^hum," answered their visitor, with unim-
peachable seriousness. "Of course that's a terrible
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "LAST DAY" 67
drag, but maybe she'll cut 'em adrift when she gi'ts
older; she's only a colt, too," he added.
"Well, we don't like her," said Miss Prissy, with
decision. "And we wish you'd speak to Bradley
about it. You know," she added, looking down, "I
put a lot of dependence in your judgment, Cap'n
Titcomb."
"So do I," said Miss Tempy, quickly; "jest as
much as Prissy does. I b'lieve in you absolutely^
Cap'n Ezra."
"Yes, yes, of course," hurriedly replied the Cap-
tain. "Well, I'll speak to the boy, by and by, and
see what I can do."
In response to the pressing invitation of the sisters,
he reluctantly agreed to stay to dinner. That dinner
was a marvel. Bradley saw that his supper, the
night of his arrival, was a mere beggar's crust com-
pared to the spread that noon. In fact, it did no*
take him very long to notice that not even the
minister's appetite was tempted with the array of
special dishes, puddings, cakes and preserves, that
were always in evidence when the Captain was a
guest.
After dinner, when the boy started for school
again. Captain Titcomb walked with him a part of
the way. The Captain had a married sister living
"down at the Neck," but he did not make his head-
quarters at her htwnc, preferring to keep bachelor's
hall at his room at the Traveler's Rest, during his
infrequent shore leaves. "I always feel more inde-
pendent on my own deck," was the way he expressea
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
i68 P/iRTNERS OF THE TIDE
it. "Then I can cuss the steward, when ii's necessary,
without startin' a mutiny."
"Brad," he said, as they came out of the Allen
gate, "what's this I hear 'bout you gittin' the rope's-
end yesterday? Never mind spinnin' the whole yarn;
I cal'late I've heard the most of it. You and the
Hammond boy had a scrimmage, too, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir," said Bradley, dt^gedly.
"Hum I Think you'd have licked him if the skip-
per hadn't took a hand?"
Bradley looked up at his questioner, saw the twin-
kle in his eye, and answered, with a sheepish grin:
"Don't know. Guess I'd have tried mighty hard."
The Captain roared. "I presume likely you
would," he chuckled. "You look to me like one of
the kind that sticks to a thing when you've started in.
Well, you needn't tell the folks at home that I said
it, but I've had the advantage of bein' a boy myself
— which they haven't — and I know there's times
when a feller has to fight. I've gin'rally found,
though," he added, "that it's better to go a consid-
'rable ways in agreein' 'fore you knock a man down.
It pays better, for one thing, and don't git into the
papers, for another. I understand you've sort of
took that little Baker craft, next door, in tow. She
seems like a smart girl; do you like her?"
"Yes, sir."
"I jedge Prissy and Tempy wouldn't enter her for
die cup. Now, Brad, mind 1 ain't coaxin' you to go
back on a friend, but the old mai — that is, your ladles
at home, have set out to make a man of you. They're
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "LAST DAY" 69
your owners and you're expected to sail 'cordin' to
their orders. If there's one thing that I've always
stuck to it's 'Obey orders or break owners.' Some-
times owner's orders don't jibe exactly with your own
ideas, but never mind — they pay the wages; see?"
"She's a good girl," said the boy, stoutly. "She
came in and took my part when she didn't have to,
and I like her. And I won't promise not to speak to
her, neither."
The Captain looked down at the lad's square jaw
and whistled.
"Well," he said, "I don't b'lieve you need to prom-
ise, but don't whoop too loud about it. Run as close
to the wind as you can, and don't carry all sail in a
two-reef breeze jest to show you ain't afraid to. Be-
cause a man's a good Republican, it don't follow that
it's policy to go to a Democratic rally and tell the
speaker he's a liar. Catch my drift ?"
"Yes, sir," answered Bradley, rather doubtfully.
"You mean be chums with the girl, but don't tell Miss
Prissy and Miss Tcmpy about it."
"No — o." Captain Ezra looked somewhat put
out by the literal interpretation. "That ain't jest it.
iBe — ^well, be easy, and Oh, thunder I Let it
go at that. I guess you know what I mean. How
do you think you're goin' to like your school ?"
Bradley answered, "Pretty well, I guess, when I
get more used to it;" but, although he did not say so,
he was certain that it would take some time to get
used to it. As a matter of fact, however, that very
lively first day was the only serious trouble for him
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
70 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
during that entire term. He was quick to leam, and
so found little difficulty with his studies, and advanced
as rapidly as other boys of his age. As for his be-
havior, it was no worse than that of any other healthy
youngster. At the end of the year he was "promoted"
— that is, he was no longer a member of the fourth
class, but instead proudly left his seat when the third
was called.
Gus was "promoted" also, much to the surprise of
the "old maids," who could not believe there was any
good in the "dog girl." They gradually ceased to
urge the boy not to have anything to do with her, for
the very good reason that, in this matter, their urging
was of no avail. They grew to understand their
colt better as the months passed, and they learned
just how tight a rein it was advisable to draw.
Bradley also grew to understand the sisters. He
discovered that Miss Prissy was the business woman,
and that she paid all the bills, bought all the house-
hold supplies, and did it without consulting Miss
Tempy, whom she treated afe a sort of doll with a
mechanism that must not be jarred.
Miss Tempy was "delicate" — at least, she believed
that she was. She always had a new patent medicine
on hand, and was always sure that it was "doln' a
world" for her. She was the household art critic,
passing judgment on the retrimming of bonnets,
making over of dresses and the like. Under her
direction ihe celebrated "plaid pants" of the lamented
Captain Darius were made over for Bradley, and
the boy "hooked Jack" for a whole day, because he
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "LAST DAY" 71
wouldn't wear the things to school. Gus came to
his rescue by tipping a can of red paint over his legs
)as they were passing the wheelwright's shop, and the
plaid outrages were thus put out of business for-
ever. Bradley appreciated the kindly spirit that
decked him in the "pants," but he was thankful for
the paint.
Miss Tempy was romantic. She read a great deal^
and her favorite stories were those appearing serially
in The Fireside Comforter, a pile of which, together
with the back numbers of Godey's Lady's Book, were
kept on the shelf in the sitting-room closet. In these
stories Lord Eric wooed, and inevitably won, Evelyn,
the beautiful factory girl, but Miss Tempy — in spite
of repeated experiences — ^was never sure that he
would win her, and so was in a state of delightful
apprehension and hope during the intervals between
installments. She loved to read these installments
aloud, and, when they were iinished, turned to Tup-
per and Wordsworth's poems. She read poetry
with what she called "expression," and wind was al-
ways "Vynd" with her.
Captain Titcomb was the one point In which Miss
Prissy would not efface herself in favor of her
younger sister. Secretly, each lady had hopes that
the Captain's calls were more than mere friendly
visits; but, because the object of these hopes never
allowed himself to show the slightest preference, the
race was heartbreakingly even. But when Miss
Tempy read of Lord Eric she always imagined tha^
nobleman as lodcing and acting like the Captain.
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
72 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Bradley made friends among the village boys, and
did not make any virulent enemies. He had his in-
terrupted fight "out" with Sam Hammond, and
emerged a conqueror with a black eye and a swollen
nose, which were the cause of his being in disgrace
at home for a week. Also he joined the "Jolly Club,"
a secret society that met on Saturday afternoons in
"Snuppy" Black's bam.
Just why this gruesome society was christened the
"Jolly Club" is rather hard to understand. The in-
itiation ceremony was anything but jolly to the trem-
bling youth who, having sworn a most blood-curdling
oath of secrecy, was conducted blindfold to the place
of assembly. In Bradley's case it was "Snuppy"
himself who officiated as guide. After tying a hand-
kerchief — not too clean and smelling of sweet-fern
cigars — over his friend's eyes, "Snuppy" led him over
fences and through back yards for a distance that
seemed miles. Then, at last, they stopped and the
guide rapped "three times fast and twice slow" on
something that sounded like a door.
The knocks were answered in kind by one within.
Then a hollow voice asked, apparently through a
speaking trumpet, "Who goes there?"
"One of the mystic brothers," replied "Snuppy,"
"Have you the grip and countersign?'*
"I have."
"Then give 'em." A hand was thrust out through
the hole cut in the door for the cwivenlence of the
cat. "Snuppy" grasped the hand and fingered It ac-
cording to formula. Then he stooped to the "cat
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "LAST DAY" 73
bole** and hoarsely whispered the countersign,
"Death."
" 'Tis well, brother," proclaimed the unseen. "But
who is with you ?"
"One who would — would "
"Would fain " prompted the voice.
"Would fain join our chosen band."
"Is he prepared to face an awful doom?" This
woirid have been more alarming if the voice had not
added, in an indignant whisper, "Shut up laffin', you
fellers! D'you want to spoil everything?"
Bradley, having announced ■ his readiness to face
the "doom," the door was opened and he was led,
stumbling, into what "Snuppy" Informed him solemn-
ly was the "Hall of Torture," but which smelt like a
bam. Then the "mystic brothers" — led by the owner
of the voice, who announced himself as "Grand
Chief" — proceeded to put the ncc^hyte through a
course of sprouts that would have turned a grown
man's hair gray. They came to a sudden end, when
the "Grand Chief" proclaimed :
"Boy, you are now standin' on the brink of a
frightful precipice. Behind you is unknown depths."
"Ain't neither, Hart Sears," was the unexpected
reply of the victim. "I'm standin' on the beam over
the mow. I can see down underneath this handker-
chief and there's the hay."
"Aw, gee I" shouted the disgusted "Grand Chief."
"That's you all over, Snuppy I Don't know enough
to tie a handkerchief tight 1"
Having undergone this harrowing ordeal, Bradley
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
74 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
was entitled to wear a shining badge — made by the
tinsmith's son — that bore upon it, hammered out with
a nail, the mystic capitals, "J. C." His worst quarrel
with Gus and her friend, Clara Hopkins — the quarrel
that lasted two weeks without a making up — came
about because the new member refused to tell what
the initials "stood for."
During the long summer vacation there were
chores to do, but there was also all sorts of fun along-
shore, digging clams on the flats, spearing flat-fish
along the edge of the channels, or rare and
much-prized trips to the fish-weirs where the nets
were hauled. Captain Tltcomb came home in Au-
gust for an intended stay of two weeks, and he made
the boy happy by taking him for an all-day sail and
blue-tishing excursion off Setuckit Point.
That fishing trip had unexpected and fateful re-
sults. The Captain had called on Miss Prissy and
her sister the morning of his arrival in Orham and,
as was his custom, had brought each of them a pres-
ent — exactly alike, of course. He had promised to
dine at the Allen house the following Sunday. But it
happened that Peleg Myrlck wanted to make one of
his infrequent visits to the mainland that week, and
he seized the opportunity to hail the catboat contain-
ing Bradley and Captain Ezra, as it passed his qua-
haug dory, and beg for a passage up.
Mr. Peleg Myrickwas a hermit. He lived alone
in a little two-room shanty on the beach about half a
mile from Setuckit Point. He owned a concertina
that squeaked and wailed, and a Mexican dog — gift
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "LAST DAY" 75"
of a wrecked skipper — that shivered all the time, and
howled when the concertina was played. Peleg was
certain that the howling was an attempt at singing,
and boasted that "Skcczicks" — that was the dog's
name — had an "ear for music jest like a human."
Among his other accomplishments Mr. Myrick
numbered that of weather prophet. He boasted that
he could "smell a storm further'n a cat can smell
fish." It was odd, but he really did seem able'to fore-
tell, or guess, what the weather would be along the
Orham coast, and the 'Iwigshoremen swore by his
prophecies.
He was a great talker, when he had any one to
talk to, and was a gossip whose news items were
usually about three months old. Captain Ezra ap-
preciated odd characters and he welcomed the chance
to get a little fun out of Pclcg.
"Well, Peleg," said the Captain, as the catboat
stood about on the Brst leg of the homeward stretch,
"what's the news down the beach? Any of the sand
fleas got married lately?"
"Don't ask me for no news, Cap'n Ezl" replied
Mr. Myrick. "You're the feller to have news. You
ain't married yit, be you?"
"No, not yet. I'm waitin' to see which girl you
pick out; then I'll sec what's left."
"Well, I ain't foolin'. I thought you might be
married by now. Last tlnM I was up to the village
■ — ''long in June, 'twas — I see M'lissy Busteed, and
she said 'twas common talk that you was courtin' one
of the old maids."
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76 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Captain TJtcomb scowled, and looked uneasily at
his passenger.
"She did, hey?" he grunted.
"Yes. I told her I didn't take no stock in that.
'Cap'n Ez,' I says, 'has been courtin' too many times
aence I can remember,' I says. 'One time 'twas Mary
Emma Cahoon; 'nother time 'twas Seth Wingatc's
sister's gal; then agin 'twas '"
"All right! All right I" broke in the Captain,
glancing hurriedly at Bradley. "Never mind that.
How's the quahaugin' nowadays? Gittin' a fair
price?"
"Pretty fair," replied Peleg. Then, with the per-
sistency of the bom gossip, not to be so easily diverted
from his subject, he went on: "I toid M'lissy that,
but she said there wan't scarcely a doubt that you
meant bus'ness this time. Said you fetched presents
every time you come home. Said the only doubt
in folks' minds was whether 'twas Prissy or Tcmpy
you was after. Said she was sure you was after
one on *em, 'cause she as much as asked 'em one
time when she was at their house, and they didn't
deny it."
Mr. Myrick talked steadily on this and other sub-
jects all the way to the wharf, but Captain Ezra was
silent and thoughtful. He shook hands with Brad-
ley at the gate of the Traveler's Rest, and said good-
bye in an absent-minded way.
"I s'pose you'll be 'round to dinner, Sunday, Cap'n
Ez ?" said the boy.
"Hey? Sunday? Well, I dtm't know. It might
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "LAST DAY" 77
be that I shall be called back to the schooner sooner
than I expect. Can't tell."
Sure enough, the next day the sisters received a note
from their expected guest, saying that he was obliged
to leave at once for Portland, and could not, there-
fore, be with them on Sunday. The ladies were dis-
appointed, but thought nothing more of the matter
at the time. It was nearly six months before the
Captain visited Orham again, and during this visit he
did not come near the big house. He waylaid Brad-
ley, however, asked him all about himself, how he
was getting on at school, and the like, but when the
boy asked if he, the Captain, wasn't "comin' 'round to
see the folks pretty soon," the answer was vague and
unsatisfactory.
"Why, I — I don't know's I'll have time," was the
reply. "I'm pretty busy, and Give 'em my re-
gards, will you, Brad? I've got to be runnin' on
now. So long."
It was the same during the next "shore leave," the
following November. Captain Titcomb saw Brad-
. ley several times, gave him a six-bladed jack-knife,
and took him for a drive over to the big cranberry
swamp owned by the Ostable Company, but he did
not call on the "old maids." So when the news came
— ^via Miss Busteed — that Captain Titcomb had re-
turned to his vessel, Miss Prissy sighed and put the
fan and the other presents in a locked bureau drawer,
and Miss Tempy began a new serial in the Comforter
without once suggesting that its hero behaved "jest
like Cap'n Ezra." In fact, the Captain's name was
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78 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
never mentioned by the sisters, and Bradley himself
learned not to speak of him while at home.
Three more years of school and vacations, with
"chores" and sailing and cranberry picking, followed.
Bradley was sixteen. His voice, having passed
through the squeaky "changing" period, now gave
evidence of becoming what Miss Tcmpy called a
"beautiful double bass, jest like father's." He was
large for his age and his shoulders were square. He
was more particular about his clothes now, and his
neckties were no longer selected by Miss Terapy. To
be seen with girls was not so "sissified" in his mind
as it used to be, but he still stuck to Gus and she was
his "first choice" at parties, and he saw her hnne
from prayer meeting occasionally.
As for the "dog-girl" herself, she, too, paid more
attention to clothes, and her pets — though still nu-
merous and just as disreputable in appearance — ^werc
made to behave with more decorum. Her hair was
carefully braided now, her dresses came down to her
boot tops, and Miss Tempy grudgingly admitted that
"if 'twas .anybody else, I should say she was likely to
be good lookin' when she grows up." «
The "Last Day" came, and Bradley and Gus were
to graduate. In Orham there is no Graduation Day.
The eventful ending of the winter term is the "Last
Day," and all the parents and relatives, together with
the school committee and the clergymen, visit the
school to sit stiffly on the settees and witness the
•eremonies.
The "old maids" were agitated on the morning of
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "LAST DAY" 79
the great day. There was no forenoon session, and
when Bradley — ^who had been at the schoolhouse to
help Gus, Clara, Sam Hammond and the other older
scholars festoon the room with ropes and wreaths of
evergreen — came home for luncheon, he found the
ladies gowned and bonneted, although there were two
hours to spare before the time to start. Miss Tempy
wore her silk mitts during the meal, and was so nerv-
ous that she could only drink her "pepper tea" and
eat one small slice of bread and butter. Miss Prissy
was nervous also, but she was much more serious than
her sister.
"Oh, dear I" sputtered Miss Tempy. "What does
make you so solemn, Prissy? I declare you give me
the fidgets. Anybody'd think 'twas a funeral you
was goin' to."
" 'Tain't the school business that's worryin' me,"
was the reply. "I only wish 'twas."
"Well, then, what is it. Now I come to think of
it, you've been glum as an owl for two or three
months. What's troublin' you? I do wish you'd
speak out. You're jest like father used to be; keep
all your troubles to yourself and never tell me any-
thing."
But Miss Prissy only sighed, and her sister, too
excited to think of other things just at present, turned
to Bradley to ask him if he was sure he "knew his
piece" and if the schoolroom "looked pretty."
"Only think," she said, contentedly, "how much
more fortunate you are than some of the other schol-
ars, Bradley. This is only the bcginnin' of your edu-
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8o PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
cation, as you might say. Next year you'll be goin'
to high school, over to Hamiss, and when you get
jhrough there, you'll commence college. It's goin*
•o be Weslcyan, too. I've set my heart on Wcsleyan,
Prissy."
Miss Prissy didn't answer, and Bradley, too, wa»
, silent. Gus was going to high school, but Clara
Hopkins — ^whose father had died recendy — ^was not.
Sam Hammond loudly boasted that he was going to
. New York to enter the office of a large wrecking com-
pany, where, as he said,-he was going to learn to be
a diver and have all sorts of adventures. "My cousin
Ed's a diver," he proudly proclaimed, "and he makes
lots of money and has a great time. He says there
ain't no sense in high school; you might as well begin
to learn your trade now."
Bradley, although he would not have hurt the sis-
ters' feelings by saying so, secretly envied Sam. A
Cape Cod boy, with the seagoing blood in his veins,
the big water called him with the call of a master.
He loved the ocean and the ships and the salt wind.
The Wesleyan idea did not appeal to him in the least.
A minister, in his boyish mind, was a poor figure be-
side a commander of a life-saving station, like Cap-
tain Luther Davis, or, better still, a real sea captain
like Captain Titcomb.
After lunch Miss Prissy unlocked the chest of
drawers and took out a worn velvet case.
"Bradley," she said, "you've been a good boy since
you've lived with us, and me and Tempy have come
to think as much of you as if you was our own sen.
DiqilizDdbyGoOgIC
THE "LAST DAY" 8i
Here's somethin* that we set a great deal of store by
and meant to keep always, but we've talked It over
and we think you ought to have it and wear It."
She opened the velvet case and showed a big, old-
fashioned silver watch, the chasing on its case worn
almost smooth.
"It was father's watch," said Miss Tempy, "and he
always carried it. It looks so much like him. We
want you to wear it, and when you're at high school
or college and look to see what time it Is, you'll think
of us way off here at Orham, won't you ?"
Bradley was a proud boy, and the "old maids"
were proud of him when, with the big watch In his
pocket and the heavy chain rattling against his vest,
the three started for the schoolhouse. On the way
they caught up with Gus and her grandmother. It
was amusing to note the condescension with which
the sisters treated the old lady. As Miss Tempy
often said, "The Bakers are real good meanin' peo-
ple, but the men folks have never been anythin' but
fishermen."
It was agreed that the decorations were "lovely."
The blackboards had been ornamented by Mr. Dan-
iels with mottoes, such as "Knowledge is Power,"
done In dllferent colored chalks and surrounded by
marvelous flourishes and flying ribbons, and impossi-
ble birds with tails that poured from their backs like
feathered Niagaras.
Mr. Daniels, himself, arrayed in his best, opened
the exercises and called upon the Reverend Lang-
worthy to offer prayer. As the concluding "Amen"
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8 2 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
was uttered, Mis3 Tempy, sitting on the settee by
the wall, nudged her sister and whispered, "Look,
Prissy I I do declare if there ain't Cap'n Ezra I"
Sure enough, there was the Captain on the opposite
settee, neatly dressed as usual, and politely nodding to
them..
"When did he come home ?" whispered the nervous
younger sister. "I didn't know he was comin'. But
then," she sorrowfully added, "we don't know any-
thing about the Cap'n nowadays."
Miss Prissy sedately returned the bow. "Don't
look at him so, Tempy," she muttered. "If Cap'n
Titconib sees fit to stay away from our house, I should
hope we could show him we didn't care."
Mr. Solomon Bangs, chairman of the school com-
mittee, addressed the school. He began with a loud
"Ahem," and proceeded somewhat after this fashion :
"Scholars, I am — er — glad to be present on this —
er — auspicious occasion. It is, of course, a — ahem
— pleasure to sec you all in your seats in this school-
room, studyin' your lessons and leamin' to be great
and good men and women. I am sure that every
, boy and girl here to-day realizes the — the — ^worth of
education and leamin'. Your parents and the com-
mittee are here because they realize it, and know what
leamin' has been to them. Your teacher tells me that
you have been a credit to him. I am glad to hear it.
As chairman of the committee havin' this school
under my charge, I esteem — that is to say — I feel sen-
sible of my responsibilities. The voyage of life upon
which you are about to step forth — er — embark, I
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "LAST DAY" 83
should have said " and so on, for ten minutes.
Mr. Daniels looked. becomingly solemn, and the visi-
tors whispered to one another that it was a "splendid
speech."
Then six boys from the youngest class gave a recita-
tion, each setting forth in sing-song verse what he
would do "When I'm a man — a man." This was
voted "too cute for anything."
There were more "pieces" and a dialogue. . Then
the graduating class, the boys in their "Sunday suits,"
and the girls in white muslin with blue ribbons, had
its turn. Sam Hammond thundered through "Spar-
tacus to the Gladiators." Clara Hopkins recited an
original composition on "Our Duty in Life." It was
a very serious "duty," and was embellished with vari-
ous flowers of rhetoric labeled "the sunrise of youth,"
"the dawn of w(»nanhood," and the like. Bradley
bravely tackled "The Advantages of a Republican
Form of Government," and when he finished every
monarch on the globe was cowering beneath bis
throne, like a cat under a sofa ; at least, if he was not
actually cowering there, it was the opinion of the "old
maids" that he would have been if he had heard that
composition. Bradley's eliort was enthusiastically
applauded, especially by Mr. Seth Wingate, who, be-
ing a life-long Democrat, was relieved to find that the
boy had not, as he feared, constructed an argument
in favor of the "Grand Old Party."
Gus had been entrusted with the "Glass Chroni-
cles." These were an innovation for Orham "Last
Days," the idea having been imported from Middle-
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84 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
boro by a young lady who had formerly attended
school there, and who said that they always had
"Class Chronicles" at schools that were "any ac-
count." Gus's Chronicles were witty and bright, and,
if some of the jokes were old, they had been made
over until, like the "old maids' " dolmans, they were
almost new again. It must be understood, of course,
that Chronicles and compositions and "pieces" were
delivered with the accompaniment of pump-handle
gestures, conscientiously copied from "Fig. i," "Fig.
2," and the rest, in the front of the Sixth Reader.
After the school had done its part, another com-
mittee man spoke. Mr. Langworthy said a few
words; Mr. Daniels repeated the statement that he
made every year, namely, that this particular graduat-
ing elass was the best and most brilliant he had ever
taught, and then — the "Last Day" was over.
That evening Bradley sat reading in the dining-
room. Miss Tempy, in the sitting-room, was going
over, for the fortieth time since it was written, the
wonderful argument in favor of a "Republican Form
of Government." As her sister entered the room,
she dropped the roll of paper in her lap and said,
solemnly :
"Prissy Allen, it's my belief that when that boy first
came here and I said that I wanted him to go to
college and be a minister, I was inspired. I declare
I do 1 I've jest been readin' that piece of his again,
and it beats any sermon I ever heard."
Miss Prissy seated herself in a rocker and looked
solemnly at her sister. For a minute she gazed with-
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "LAST DAT' 85
out speaking. Then, suddenly, as If she had made
up her mind, she rose, gave the dining-room door a
swing that would have shut it completely had not the
comer of a mat interfered, and, coming back to her
chair, said, slowly: "Tcmpy, I'm afraid we'll never
be able to send Bradley to college."
The precious manuscript fell from Miss Tempy's
lap to the floor.
"Why — ^why, Prissy Allen I"8he exclaimed. "What
do you mean?"
"I mean we can't do what we've hoped to do. Oh,
dear I I — I don't know what we'll do. Tempy,
we've hardly got any money left I"
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CHAPTER V.
A CHANGE OF PLANS.
FOR a moment Miss Tempy made no reply to
her sister's speech. Instead, she sat there
with her eyes fixed upon Miss Prissy's face
and her thin fingers picking nervously at
her dress.
"Haven't got any money?" she repeated, after a
pause. "Haven't got any money left? Why, then —
why, then, we'll have to take it out of the savin's bank
up to Boston. Of course, Bradley must go to college.
You know he must. Prissy."
But Miss Prissy shook her head*.
"You don't understand, Tempy," she said. "I
ought to have talked with you about it long ago. I
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A CHANGE OF PLANS 87
can sec now that I ought to; but, oh, dear! father al-
ways said you was too delicate to bother with money
matters, and I've been used to takin' all the care my-
self, and so I've jest gone on and on, worryin' and
plannin' and layin' awake nights until I can't go on
any further. Oh, Tempy," she cried, and the tears
rolled down her cheeks, "you don't understand. The
money in the Boston bank has all gone too. We
haven't got more than live hundred dollars left in the
world, and when tkafs gone 1" She waved her
hands despairingly.
But still Miss Tempy did not comprehend.
"Why, all of it can't be gone I" she said. "All of
the insurance money and everything! Why, it was
five thousand dollars I" She mentioned the sum rev-
erently and in an awestruck whisper.
"Yes," said Miss Prissy, trying hard not to be im-
patient; "yes, 'twas five thousand dollars and father
died over ten years ago, and we've been livin' on it
ever since."
"But five thousand dollars, Prissy I Five thou-
sand "
"Oh, my soul and body I Anybody'd think 'twas
a million. Jest think, now; jest think! We've lived
on it for prety nigh eleven years; paid for our clothes
and livin' and havln' the house oainted six years ago,
and "
"But it needed paindn'.'*
"Needed itl I should think it didl But it cost
inore'n we'd ought to spend, jest the same. Oh, it's
more my fault than an^ody's. Long's father lived,
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88 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
the place was kept up, and you and me was used to
havin' things as good as our neighbors, and I went on
and on, never thinkin' we was too extravagant, until,
all at once, the money that we first put in the Hamiss
Bank was used up. And then it come home to me, as
you might say, and I realized what we'd been doin'.
Oh, I've tried and tried ; scrimped here and pinched
there. What do you s'pose I sold the woodlot for?
And then the cran'by swamp ?"
"Why, you said we didn't need 'em, and it was too
much trouble to run 'cm."
"Said! Oh, I don't doubt I said all sorts of things
to keep you from knowin'. But I sold 'em to help pay
the bills. And then you was took down with the
typhoid, and there was that big doctor's bill; and
then Bradley came and he had to have clothes and a
little money to spend like the other boys. And now I"
Miss Prissy choked, tried to go on, and then broke
down and cried heartily and without restraint.
In all the years since the death of Captain Allen
Miss Tempy had never seen her common-sense, prac-
tical sister give way like this. The sight alarmed her
much more than the story of the financial situation
had so far done. She didn't fully understand the lat-
ter even yet, but every one of Miss Prissy's sobs was
to her a call for help that needed an immediate an-
swer.
"There I there 1 there I dear I" she said, running to
the other rocker and putting her arm around her sis-
ter's neck. "You poor thing! You mustn't cry like
that. You've jest worried yourself sick. You're all
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A CHANGE OF PLANS 89
worn out. I shouldn't be surprised if you've got a
little cold, too, in that draughty schoolhouse. Let me
make you a good, big cup of pepper tea right away;
now do."
Miss Prissy turned a sob into a feeble laugh.
"Oh, dear mc, Tempy," she said, laying her handi
on the other's arm, "I b'lievc you think pepper tea'll
cure anything — even an empty pocketbook. I wish
'twould pay bills ; then, I dmi't know but I'd drink a
hogshead. But it won't, nor cryin' won't either. Set
down, and I'll tell you jest how things are."
So Miss Tcmpy, reluctantly giving up the "pepper
tea" idea for the present, went back to her chair,, and
Miss Prissy continued.
"The money in the Boston savin's bank is gone,"
she said, "and a year or more ago I wrote to the
broker folks that bought the bond for us when father
died, and they sold it for me and got a little less than
a thousand dollars for it. I put the money into the
bank at Hamlss, and though I've tried my best to be
economical, there ain't but five hundred and eighty
left. That, and the place here, is all we've got."
In a bewildered fashion Miss Tempy strove to
grasp the situation.
"Then we're poor," she said. "Real poor, and I
thought we was rich. Well, I shall give up that new
bonnet I was goin' to have next spring, and I s'pose
I hadn't ought to subscribe to the Comforter cither.
I did think so much of it !"
"I'm afraid we'll have to give up more than the
Comforter, Tcmpy. I've thought and thought, till
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90 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
my poor head ts nearly worn through. We might sell
the place, here, but 'twould be like sellin' our everlast-
in' souU — if 'tain't unreligious to say it — and, besides,
property at Orham is so low now that we'd only get
ha'f what it's worth, and when that money's spent
there wouldn't be anything left."
"Sell the place 1 Father's place! Why, Prissy
Allen, how can you talk so I Where would we live ?"
"Well, we might hire a little house down at South
Orham or somcwheres."
"South Orham ! Where all those Portuguese and
things live? I'd rather die." And it was Miss
Tenjpy's turn to cry.
"You needn't cry for that, Tempy. We won't sell
yet a while. Not till there's nothin' left. But we
can't have the bam shingled, and as for Bradley's
gotn' to college, that, I'm afraid, is out of the ques-
tion."
"Oh, dear I dear! And the bam looks awful.
Melissy Busteed was sayin', only last week, that folks ,
was wond'rin* when we was goin' to have it fixed.
And poor Bradley I My heart was set on his bein' a
minister. I don't know but I'd live in the poorhouse
to make him (Hie. They say Mr. Otis keeps a real
nice poorhouse, too," she added.
Miss Prissy smiled dolefully. "It hasn't got to the
poorhouse yet," she said. "And I hope we can send
Bradley through high school anyhow. But we'll have
to scrimp awful and we must try to cam some money.
I was talkin' to Abigail MuUett at the church fair last
August, and she spok'? about those aprons and one
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
*d CHANGE OF PLANS 91
diing another that I made, and said she never saw
such hemmin' and tuckin'. She said she'd give any-
thing if she could get somebody to do such work for
her in the dressmakin' season. I've been thinkin*
maybe she'd put out some of her work to me if I
asked her to. She does more dressmakin' than any-
body around; has customers 'way over to Ostable, and
. keeps three girls sometimes. And you know how the
summer folks bought those knit shawls of yours,
Tempy? Well, I don't doubt you could get orders
for lots more. We'll try, and we'll let Bradley start
at high school and see how we make it go."
So Miss Tempy brightened up, and in a few min-
utes she had, in her mind, sold so many shawls and
Miss Prissy had done so well with her hemming and
tucking that she saw them putting money in the bank
instead of taking it out. In fact, she was getting rich
so fast, in her dreams, that her sister didn't have the
heart to throw more cold water at this time. And
even Miss Prissy herself felt unwarrantably hopeful.
She had borne the family burdens so long that to
share the knowledge of them with another was a great
relief. They discussed ways and means for a half-
hour longer, and then Miss Tempy insisted on getting
that "pepper tea."
"I honestly believe," she said, "that if I hadn't took
pepper tea steady for the last four or five years I
shouldn't be here now. That and Blaisdell's Emul-
sion has given me strength to bear most anything,
even the prospects of the poorhouse. Thank good-
ness, I've got a new bottle of Emulsion, and pepper
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92 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
tea's cheap, so I shan't have to give that up, even if
we are poorer'n Job's turkey."
"All right," sighed Miss Prissy. "If it'll make
you feel any better to parboil my insides with hot
water and pepper, fetch it along. Don't say anything
to Bradley about what we've been sayin'. 'Twon't
do any good, and will only make the poor child feel
bad."
But Bradley was not in the dining-room. The book
he had been reading was turned face downward on
the table, but he was gone, and so was his hat.
"Why, I never 1" exclaimed Miss Tempy. "He
never went out an cvenin' before without sayin' any-
thin' to me or you. What do you s'posc is the mat-
ter?"
"You don't think he heard what we said, do you ?"
anxiously asked her sister. "I thought I shut the
door."
"You did shut it, but, now you speak of it, seems
to me I remember it wasn't latched when I come out
jest now. I hope he didn't hear. He's such a sensi-
tive boy; jest like all the Aliens."
"The "pepper tea" was prepared — a double dose
this time — and the sisters sat sipping it. Miss Prissy
with many coughs and grimaces, and Miss Tempy
with the appreciation of a connoisseur. After a mo-
ment's silence she said:
"Prissy, do you know what I've been thinkin'?
I've been thinkin' what a blessin' 'twould be if we had
Cap'n Titcomb to go to for advice now."
"Humph ! If I've thought that once, I've thought
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A CHANGE OF PLANS 93
it a million times in the last year," was the decided
answer.
It was after ten o'clock, and only Bradley's absence
had prevented the ladies from going up to bed, when
the outside door of the dining-room opened, and the
missing boy came in.
"Bradley Nickerson, where've you been ?" ex-
claimed Miss Tempy, running to meet him. "We've
been pretty nigh worried to death. Why don't you
shut the door ? Who's that out there ? Why — why,
Cap'n Titcombf"
"What's that?" cried Miss Prissy, hurrying in.
"You don't mean Well ! Good cvcnln', Cap'n
Titcomb; won't you step in ?"
The Captain accepted the invitation. He was a»
much embarrassed as the "old maids," even more so
than Miss Prissy, who immediately, after a swift,
sidelong glance of disapproval at her agitated sister,
Assumed an air of dignified calmness.
"How d'ye do, Prissy?" stammered the Captain.
"Tempy, I hope you're well. Yes ; I'm feelin' fair to
middlin'. No, thanks; I ain't goin' to stop long; it's
pretty late for calls. Fact is. Brad here's got some-
thin' to say. Heave ahead, Brad."
The boy, too, was embarrassed, but as the two
looked at him expectantly, he fidgetted with a button
on his jacket and said :
"Miss Prissy, I didn't mean to listen, but the door
wasn't shut tight, and I couldn't help hearing what
you and Miss Tempy were saying a little while
ago."
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94 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"There!" exclaimed Miss Tempy. "I was afraid
of that door. You remember I said so, Prissy."
But Miss Prissy didn't answer; she merely looked
at Bradley.
"I heard what you said," nervously went on the
boy, "and when you told about — about what you was
going to do so's I could go to high school, I-~I
thought first I'd come right in and tell you you
mustn't. But then I thought you wouldn't believe I
meant it, or wouldn't pay any attention to it if I did,
so I went outside to think it over by myself. And
then—then I went right up to see the Cap'n."
"I hope," said Miss Prissy, sternly, "that you
didn't repeat our talk to Cap'n Titcomb without tell-
in' us you was goin' to."
"No, no; he didn't," hastily broke in the Captain.
"He didn't tell a word. You've got a pretty fair kind
of boy here, if you want to know," he added, with
more than his usual enthusiasm.
"Hum I" was Miss Prissy's only comment. "Go
on, Bradley."
"All I told him was," said Bradley, "that I didn't
think it was right for me to go to school and college
when I ought to be earning some money. I'm going
on seventeen now, and lots of fellows I know are
going to work. I don't b'Heve I'd make a very good
minister," with a look of appeal at Miss Tempy, "and
I'd a good deal rather go to sea. All our folks have
been to sea. My father and ray grandfather. Yes,
and your father, too, you know." The last as a happy
inspiration.
by Google
A CHANGE OF PLANS 95
"Don't you think that we know best what "
began Miss Prissy, but the Captain again interrupted
her.
"Let him spin his yam, Prissy," he said. "Notliin'
is settled yet, so don't worry."
"So I went to the Cap'n," went on Bradley, "and
asked him if he'd take me on board his schooner. I
ain't a sailor, but I know a lot about boats, and I don't
get seasick even when it's mighty rough; do I, Cap'n
Ezra?"
"No," replied Captain Titcomb, gravely. "You
manage to keep your cargo from shiftin' pretty well
for a gi'een hand."
"And he said he'd take me as a kind of cabin boy ;
didn't you, Cap'n? And learn me things, and get me
advanced as soon as I was lit for it. And he'll pay
me wages, too; right away. There! And I won't
cost you a cent more. Please let me go ?"
"Well, I neverl" exclaimed Miss Tempy. She
would have continued, but her sister spoke.
"It seems to me," said the latter, "that you would
have done better by us, Bradley, if you'd asked our
advice before you went to Cap'n Titcomb or anybody
else. We'd planned to give you a good education, so's
you might amount to somethin' tn this world. Sea-
goin' is all right — the land knows there's been enough
of it in our family — but everybody says it ain't what
it used to be, and it's a dreadful hard life. Boy on a
schooner, even with the Cap'n here, ain't much of a
place. It'll be a good while 'fore you amount to
much or make much money."
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96 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Bradley would have replied, but Captain 'HtctMnb
held up his hand.
"Brad," he commanded, "go into the galley and
shut the door."
The boy didn't hesitate; he obediently turned and
went into the kitchen. The Captain looked after him
approvingly.
"I like a chap that obeys orders," he observed.
"Prissy, you and Tempy know me, and you know I
like Brad and want to sec him do well. But I want
to tell you this: I've seen lots of boys, and I was one
myself, and if a boy gits the salt water notion into his
head, nothin'll git it out but a good-sized dose of that
same water and a first mate and a rope's end.
'Twon't git it out then, if he's really got the disease,
but it'll prove whether it's growin' pains or the genu-
ine rheumatics mighty quick. The old man — dad, I
mean — was all for makin' a doctor out of me, but
when he caught me one night with my duds tied up in
a newspaper ready to run away and ship on a cattle
boat, he give in. 'Sarah,' he says to mother, 'I've
done my best to raise a pill-peddler, but it looks as If
'twas nothin' but a lob-scouser after all. All right,'
he says; 'if you're dyin' to eat salt-hoss and smell
bilge, you can do it, but you'll do It under somebody
that I know, and not on a fioatin' barnyard. Cap'n
Tim Mayo'Il take you, If I ask him to,' he says, 'and
if he don't work the taste for pickle out of you, then
there ain't nothin' that can,' he says.
"Well," continued the Captain, with a twist of his
mouth, "Cap'n Tim tried; I'll say that for him. I'll
by Google
A CHANGE OF PLANS 97
(i«/er forgit that first v'yage. But when I come
home and told the old man I was goin' ag'in, he held
up his hands. 'That settles it,' says he; 'you're goin'
to be the same kind oi a foot that I am and my father
was afore me. It's the Lord's doin's, and I'm thank-
ful I can shift the blame onto Him,' he says.
"So with Brad. If ht's bound to go to sea, he'll
go, sometime or 'nother. It was my idea to take him
as a sort of mixture of roustabout and cabin boy, and
try him out. If it don't cure him, why, I need jest
such a feller as he is to make a mate of some of these
days. If it does he's only wasted a summer vaca-
tion and got a little cash for it. Seems to me it's-
worth the try. You think it over, and send me word
up at the Trav'ler's Rest. I'll be there for the next
week or so. Well, I mustn't stop any longer. Good
night."
"But, Cap'n," faltered Miss Tempy, avoiding her
sister's eye, "won't you set down jest a minute to— to
rest yourself 'fore you go back hwne?"
"No, thank you," was the quick reply. "It's git-
tin' so late now that if I ain't careful I'll have to git
up afore I go to bed, like the Irishman Eri Hedge
tells about. I hope you won't think I'm pokin' my
oar into this bus'ness of Brad's. It's jest as I say; I
like him, that's all. Well, all right. Tell him if he'»
headed up my way to-morrer he'd better drop in and
have another talk. So long."
They watched him go down the walk and up the
moonlit road. Then Miss Prissy shut the door, and,
after calling Bradley from the kitchen, they ad-
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98 PJR TNERS OF THE TIDE
journed to the sitting-room. Lxmg after the boy had
been sent to bed the sisters sat in their rockers, talking
of him, of his future and what it was wisest to do.
They talked of the Captain, too, but only so far as
Bradley's sailing with him was ccmcemed. It was not
until they were on their way upstairs that Miss Prissy
said:
"Tempy, I'm wonderin' if Cap'n Ezra's comin'
here to^iight means that he'll come often, like he used
to."
"Was you wonderin* that?" asked Tempy. "I
was, too, but I didn't s'pose you'd like it if I said any-
thing 'bout it. You was so dreadful cool when he
was here."
But the Captain did not again visit the Allen hc»ne,
although next day Bradley called on him at his room
in the hotel. They talked of the proposed plan, of
course, but Captain Titcwnb did not urge its accept-
ance. On the contrary, he spoke very plainly of the
disagreeable features of a sailor's calling, and hinted
that being aboard a vessel was like being in jail.
"Only," he said, "there's always a chance for a feller
to break out of jail."
At the end of the interview he said : "Brad, I ain't
askin' any questions 'bout what made you take this
sudden fit, but I'd like to know this : Do the old maids
know 'bout that Sampson fund for sailors' children?
They could git over a hundred a year out of that if
they applied for it, you understand?"
"I don't believe they'd take a cent, if it was any-
thing like charity," replied the boy. "Miss Prissy
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
A CHANGE OF PLANS 99
especial; she's awful down on folks that she says are
living on charity."
*'Um, hum ! I see. Well, I know a feller that's
(me of the head cooks and bottle-washers of the Samp-
son crew. Maybe I could rig it so's Well, never
mind ; don't say nothin' yet."
Three days later it was settled; Bradley was to go
to Boston the following Monday with Captain Tit-
comb and ship with him as the combination "boy and
roustabout" for a period of three months. Really, it
was settled when the Captain suggested it, but it took
some time for the "old maids" to formally make up
their minds to the decided change and for Miss
Tempy to get rid of her desire for a clergyman in the
family.
"Well, Prissy," she said, "if we can't have a minis-
ter, I think I'd rather have a sea cap'n than most any-
thing else. You see, there's always been at least one
cap'n among the Aliens. P'raps Bradley — he's so
smart — ^will git to be cap'n of a great steamer like one
of the Fall River boats. P'raps he really will be
cap'n of a Fall River boat. Jest think I Then you
and me might go to New York again ; or, if Bradley
took us to New York for nothin', p'raps by that time
we could afiord to go on an excursion from New York
to Washington. It's been one of my dreams to go to
Washington and see the President and the Washing-
ton Monument and the Senators and all the relics in
the Smithsonian Institute."
Bradley told Gus the great news as soon as it was
officially announced by Miss Prissy. Gus was disap-
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loo PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
pointed because her "chum" was not going to high
school with her, but she rejoiced with him upon his
freedom from the ministry.
"I'm glad you're not going to be a minister," she
said. "That is, if you had to be one down here in
Orham. I should hate to have you living on five hun-
dred a year and donation parties, and your wife
scared to death every time she had a new hat for fear
Melissa Busteed and the rest would say she was too
extravagant. You're going to go to places and see
things. I wish I was, instead of staying here to study
lessons and read the Item to grandmother. 'Cap'n
J(»iadab Wixon has treated his henhouse to a new
coat of whitewash.' And thai grandma wants to
know what I s'pose he paid for the whitewash.
Ugh I"
"You'll have good times over at Hamiss," said
Bradley, reflectively. "There's lots of fellows and
girls go to high school there."
"Yes, I s'pose so; but I'll miss you and Clara.
Write to me, won't you ? I want to hear from you,
of course, and besides, it's fun to go to the postoffice
and get letters of your own."
"Yes; I'll write. And you'll write to me, won't
you?"
"Yes; I'll write and tell whose cow is dead and
how many summer boarders there are in town,
and which one of 'Hungry Bill's' children has
got the measles. Great things to write about,
there are down here!" she added, disgustedly.
"Well, 1 can write about the parties I go to, if I go
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
A CHANGE OF PLANS loi
to any. I won't have anybody to go with, now you're
gone."
Bradley had an uneasy notion that there were plenty
of fellows that would be glad to escort her to the
"parties." It flashed across him all at once that Gus
was growing positively pretty. It had not occurred to
him before ; that is, not as it did just then. It was
one of the signs that he was getting older.
"Well, good-bye," he said, holding out his hand.
"Good-bye," said Gus, taking it. Then they shook
hands, said good-bye again, and separated. Bradley
almost wished he had kissed her, but seemed like a
"soft" thing to do in cold blood; not like "forfeits"
at a party, or anything like that.
Monday morning his trunk was packed, and Bar-
ney Small caUed to take him and it to Hamiss. The
"old maids" wept over him, and Miss Prissy told him
to be a good boy and write once a week at least.
Miss Tempy said:
"Remember, Bradley, you're an Allen now, and
you must live up to the family. Oh, Prissy I Don't
it seem jest like it used to when father was goin' on a
voyage? Bradley's growin' to look so like him."
And the sisters went into the house to cry together
The trip to Harniss in the stage seemed much
shorter than had that in the same vehicle four years
before. Captain Titcomb was with him now, as
then, and "Foolish Sol" came out to beg tobacco.
But his opportunities were growing less, for the new
Orhara branch railroad was even then under construc-
tion and would be finished in another two years.
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102 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Then came the long ride in the train to Boston.
Bradley had been as far as Ostable (hi the memorable
occasion when the "JoUy Club" attended the County
Fair in a body, a visit which had caused that venerable
institution to sit up and take notice. But he had never
been farther in that direction, and now he watched
while the villages and towns they passed grew bigger
and closer together, saw in Brockton the first street
car he had ever seen outside of pictures, saw rows
upon rows of brick buildings, where people lived all
together like "fiddler crabs" in a marshbank, saw
smoke and tangled splderwebs of railroad tracks, and
then shot under a great shed and into a big building
where there were crowds and crowds of people. And
It was Boston.
Then they rode In one of the — to Bradley — ^wwi-
derful horse cars, through crooked streets lined with
the brick buildings, and got out In front of a place
where rows of masts fringed a long, narrow wharf.
Down this they walked till they came to a three-
masted schooner sitting high in the water.
"Brad," said Captain Titcomb, clapping him on
the shoulder, "that's your boardln'-house for the next
three months anyhow. She's the Thomas Doane.
What do you think of her?"
by Google
CHAPTER VI
THE THOMAS DOANE.
THE Thomas Doane, seen from the wharf in
the faint light of the street lamp, was a mere
shape of blackness, with masts like charcoal
marks against the sky, and a tangle of ropes running
up to meet them. The windows of the after deck-
house were illuminated, however, and as Bradley and
the Captain stepped irom the wharf to the rail and
from that to the deck a man came up the companion-
way from the cabin and touched his hat.
"Howdy, Cap'n," he said. "Glad to see you back.
Everything runnin' smooth down home?"
108
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104 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"Yup," answered the skipper. "Smooth as a smelt
How's it here?"
"Shipshape," was the reply. "The mainsail's been
patched, and I've put in the new runnin' riggin' where
you said. That fore-tops'l's been fixed, too, as well's
we could do it. She ought to have a new one, but I
s'pose Williams'Il think it's too expensive, won't he ?"
The Captain's answer was a grunt that might have
meant almost anything.
"Brad," he said, "this is Mr. Bailey, the first mate.
He'll be your boss, next to me, after to-morrer. Mr.
Bailey, this is a new hand. He hasn't exactly shipped
yet, so you needn't break him in to-night unless your
conscience troubles you too much,"
The mate held out a hand like a ham covered with
red sole leather, and Bradley shook it fe^irfully.
"Relation of yours, Cap'n?" inquired Mr. Bailey.
"Not exactly; and still, I don't know. He's a
Nickerson, and there's mighty few Cape families that
ain't had a Nickerson hitched to 'cm somewheres at
MMne time. They're all over the plate, like a b'iled
dinner. Is the doctor aboard? I'm hungry and i
cal'late Brad could find storage room for a little
freight somewheres."
The cook was ashore just then, but the mate said he
guessed he could "scratch grub enough tt^ether for
supper." Captain Titcomb, however, declined the offer
and said that he and Bradley would go up to an "eat-
In' house" somewhere for this time. So, after a walk
through more of the narrow, crooked streets, the pair
entered a little battered restaurant with the sign "A*-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE THOMAS DOANE 105
wood's Oyster Saloon" over the door, and todc seats
in one of a row of curtained alcoves that seemed to
the boy more like horse stalls than anything else.
Then the Captain ordered oyster stews and, when
these had come and gtme, squash pie and coffee.
After the last crumb of the pie had disappeared
Captain Titcomb lighted a cigar, leaned back in the
comer of the "stall" and, with his eyes half-closed
and an odd expression about the comers of his mouth,
gazed at Bradley in silence. At length he took the
agar from his Hps, flipped away the ash with his Itttle
linger, and said slowly :
"Brad, there's a whole lot of things that a green
hand has to learn when he goes to sea, and there's a
whole lot more he's got to unlearn. I've been won-
derin' whether 'twas best for me to give you the
course, so to speak, or let you And it out for yourself.
When I was a little shaver, mother caught me with a
pocket full of apples that I'd hooked from old man
Pepper's orchard that was jest over our back fence.
She give me an awful talkln' to, but dad didn't say
much. 'Let him alone, Sarah,' he says; 'he'll learn
by experience.' Sure enough, in 'bout a week, in .
marches Pepper, holdin' me by the collar with one
hand and a big switch in t'other. 'Sam,' says he to
dad, 'here's this boy of yours been stealin' my apples.
If 'twas anybody else's child, I'd give him a lickin*
that he'd remember.' Dad didn't even take his hands
out of his pockets. All he said was, 'Well, Elkanah,
'twill be your fault if he steals any more.' Then he
went in the house. Pepper didn't know what to make
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io6 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
of it for a minute. Then he sort of sized up matters.
*Hum I* he says ; *I guess I won't take the responsibil-
ity,* and when he got through the switch wan't noth-
in* but a frazzled end, and I ain't cared much for ap-
ples sence.
"That was what dad called ieamm' by experience.*
I learned my seafarin' the same way, and I ain't for-
got the lesson. Maybe that's why I'm goin' to tell
you a few thin^. Now, you and me on shore have
been sort of chums, ain't we?"
"Yes, sir," replied Bradley, puzzled to know what
his companion was driving at.
"All right, ^hen we're on shore we'll be chums,
same as ever. But when we're 'board ship, I'm sldp-
per and you're a hand; understand?"
"Yes, sir; I guess so."
"Don't guess — it w<m't be any conundrum. Ill be
Cap'n Titcomb, and Mr. Bailey'Il be mate, and Mr.
Saunders — you haven't seen him yet — he'll be second
mate. When one of us three says, 'Nickerson, do
thus and so,' you do it, and do It on the jnmp. Don't
stop to think "bout it, or maybe you'll learn by expe-
rience, the way I did. Aboard any vessel that I'm
on there ain't any pets. One man's good's another,
provided he does his work. Say 'Aye, aye, sir,' when
you git an order, and don't guess at things. You ain't
paid to do it yet awhile. Let the officers do the guess-
in'. This is pretty plain talk, but I don't want you to
make any mistakes. See ?"
"Yes, sir.'* Bradley's face was very solemn.
"All right. This seems tough now, but it saves you
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE THOMAS DOANE 107
from worryin' 'bout the future, as the feller said to
the pig afore he killed him. Come on down aboard,
and we'll turn in." »
As they came out on the sidewalk the Captain
looked down at the boy and smiled.
"Brace up, Brad," he said, giving the new hand a
hearty slap on the back. "You'll do all right. Don't '
worry."
That night Bradley slept in the second mate's room
off the cabin, but it was understood that hereafter he
was to bunk forward with the crew. The next morn-
ing the Captain took him up to a store on Commercial
street, where a sailor's bag was purchased, for, so the ~
skipper said, nobody but a landlubber took a trunk
to sea. It must be either a chest or a bag, and the
chest would come later on. Bradley transferred such
of his belongings as the Captain deemed necessary
fr«»ii the tnmk to the bag, and the trunk itself was
stored in the wharfinger's office until its owner should
call for it some time in the future.
The second mate, a thin young man, with hair and
face both a flaming red, came oa board In the morn-
ing, and the crew were already there. Then a tug
took the Thomas Doane in tow and pulled her out of
the dock and around to another wharf, where she was
to receive her cargo of lumber. And from the mo-
ment when the tug's hawser was attached Bradley
began to realize what Captain Titcomb had meant by
his advice of the previous night.
It was "Here, boy ! stand by to take a hand with
that rope," or "You, boy — ^what's your name — git a
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io8 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
bucket and swab up tbat mess on the deck. Lively I
D'you hear?" The cook was a little Portuguese and
he delighted to haze his new assistant; so when, at
nine o'clock or so, Bradley tumbled into his bunk in
the smoke-reeking fo'castle, he was tired enough to
drop asleep even in the midst of yams and profanity.
The lumber, in the hold and on the decks, was at
last on board, and one morning the schooner, with all
sail set, passed Minot's Li^t, bound for New York.
The afternoon of that day was a dismal experience
for Bradley. The Thomas Doane was heavily loaded,
and she swashed and wallowed through the good-
sized waves with a motion so entirely different from
that of the catboats which the boy had been used to
that he was most heartily and miserably seasick.
That evening, with lee rail almost awash, they were
off the bank of the Cape, and the lights at Orham
showed clear on the horizon. It was really a reeling
breeze, but Captain Titcorab had a reputation for rec-
ord trips to sustain, and he didn't reef until there was
danger of carrying away the canvas. Bradley, for a
moment idle, was leaning on the bulwarks, staring
dolefully at the distant lights, when a man came close
beside huu and said, in a half-whisper : "Well, Brad,
how'd you like to be in the old maids' dlnin'-room
jest about now ?"
The new hand glanced hurriedly up and saw the
skipper.
"Very much, sir," he answered, truthfully.
The Captain chuckled. "I shouldn't wonder," he
said. "Never mind; swallow hard and hope you like
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE THOMAS DOANE 109
it. TTiat's 'bout all a sailor lives on, is hope. That's
why the sign of it's an anchor, I guess."
A voice called from the galley.
"Boy !" it wailed. "Neeckerson I Where ees that
no good boy? Boy!"
"Aye, aye, sir I" shouted Bradley, and jumped to
receive a kettle of greasy dish water, the sight and
smell of which did not make him feel any happier
just then.
But seasickness and homesickness were forgotten
on the day of the wonderful sail through Ixmg Island
Sound. They passed schooners of alt shapes and
sizes, loaded till the decks were scarcely above water,
or running light and high in ballast. Sharp-nosed
schooners with lines like those of a yacht, and clumsy
old tubs with dirty sails, with patches — ^varying from
new white to a dingy gray — plastered all over them.
They overtook stubby sloops, heaped with cut granite
or brick, and steered by a big tiller, and were in turn
overtaken or met by excursion steamers, freight
steamers, or an occasional ocean-going tug with a
string of coal barges towing behind. The Sound
was a highway, a sea street, crowded with traffic,
and through it the Thomas Doane picked her way
serenely with a fair wind to help, and a white
ribbon of foam trailing from either side of her
bow.
She wasn't a new vessel — even Bradley could see
that she was old and weather-beaten — but she was
kept as clean as scouring could make her, and paint
was used liberally. A man with a paint bucket and
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
no PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
another with a swab were nearly always to be seen
busy about the Thomas Doane.
Night, and they were fast to a big wharf, with
lights all about them; lights piled, row after row,
up to meet the stars; tights fringing the river or
moving up and down and across it; lights in the arch-
ing curve of the bridge that Bradley had seen so
often in pictures. Whistles sounding, bells ringing,
distant shoutings, and the never-ceasing undercurrent
of hum and roar that !s New York, breathing stead-
ily and regularly.
On the following morning Captain Titcomb left
the schooner and, after an hour or two, returned with
a sharp-eyed man who smoked continuously, although
the wharf-signs shouted in six-inch letters that no
smoking was allowed, and who said little but looked
a great deal. Bradley learned from the cook, who
had been along the water front and, having fallen in
with some friends, was mellow and inclined to be
confidential, that the sharp-eyed man was Mr. Will-
iams, the junior member of the firm that owned the
Thomas Doane and a half dozen other coasters.
Mr. Williams and the Captain had a long conversa-
tion in the cabin, and, after it was over, the skipper
was a bit out of temper, and his orders were unusually
crisp and sharp. As Bradley brought the dinner
from the galley to the cabin that noon, he heard a re-
mark that the Captain made in reply to a question of
the first mate.
"Aw, nothin' worth mentionin'," he said. "It's
the old story. I let him know that I was mighty nigh
by Google
THE THOMAS DOANE 1 1 1
uck of ninnin* this floatin* junk shop, and wanted
the new schooner when she was ready. He soft-
soddered me till I felt slippery all over; told me I
could git more out of an old vessel than any man he
ever had, and that he jest simply couldn't shift me till
the Thomas Doane was ready for the scrap .heap.i
Said not to worry; the Brm appreciated what I was
doin' and would make it right with me — and a whole
lot more. Well, I can't kick so fur's wages go; but
if it wan't that Williams Brothers pay me more'n
ha'f again what most coastin' skippers git, I'd chuck
it to-morrer and hunt a new berth."
On one memorable evening the Captain, having
previously whispered to Bradley to put on his "Sun-
day togSi" sent the boy on an errand to a cigar store
near the wharf and told him to wait there "for fur-
ther orders." In a little while he, himself, came into
the store, commanded Bradley to "lay alongside and
say nothin'," and the pair walked briskly across the
city to the elevated railway station. Then they rode
uptown, had a six-course dinner In a marvelous res-
taurant, where an orchestra played while you ate, and
then went to the theatre to see a play called "The
Great Metropolis." It was all real to jBradlcy, and
he thrilled, wept and laughed alternately; but the
Captain was disgusted.
"I swan to man t" he ejaculated, as they went out,
after the villain had becomingly shot himself, and
the hero and heroine were clasped in each other's
arms, "blessed if them plays with sea scenes In 'em
don't make me sick. Did you notice that life-savin'
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
1 1 1 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
business? Ship aground in the breakers, with her
bowspit stickin' ten foot over dry land, and the crew
took off in the breeches buoy! If they'd swung out
<m the jib-boom and dropped, they'd have landed on
the roof of the life-savin' station. And it thunderin*
and lightnin' and snowin' all at the same time 1 That
kind of weather would make the Old Farmers' Al-
manac jealous."
On the way down in the elevated he said, with a
whimsical smile, "Brad, I cal'late if the old maids
knew I took you to the theatre they'd think you was
slidin' a greased pole to perditicm, wouldn't they?"
Bradley smiled also as he answered: "No, sir;
I guess they'd think if you did it 'twas all right."
Captain Titcomb grinned, but he made no com-
ment on the reply. All he said was: "Well, Orham's
Orham, and New York's New York, and the way
things looks depends consider'ble on which end of the
spyglass you squint through. Anyhow, p'raps
you'd better not put this cruise down in the log."
But Bradley did put it down in the log; that is to
say,_^he wrote a full account of this, the greatest even-
ing of his life, in his next letter to the sisters. His
habit of scrupulous honesty still clung to him, and he
did not evade or cover up. If he did a thing it was
done because he thought it right, and other considera-
tions counted for little.
He had received three letters from home already.
One, from Miss Prissy, gave him all sorts of advice
concerning his clothes, his health, and so on. Mis?
Tempy, through sixteen pages closely written, built
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE THOMAS DOANE 113
one air castle after another. He was by this time,
in her mind, sure to become commander of an ocean
liner, and she was now busily planning a trip to
Europe. As for financial matters, all was serene.
She had knit nearly half a shawl already.
Gus wrote town gossip, spiced with comment. In
one paragraph she said: "The whole village is talk-
ing about your sailing with Captain Ezra. Every-
body thinks it is a good jdce on the 'old maids.'
Some people think it ts dreadful and that you are
sure to be ruined. Melissa Busteed told grand-
mother that the idea of trusting an Innocent young
man to such a 'worldly critter' as the Captain was a
'cryin' sin.' She said somebody ought to warn Prissy
and Tempy against him, and that she didn't know but
it was her duty to do it herself. I don't think it
would be very healthy for her If she did, do you ?"
Occasions like the theatre trip were few and far
apart. For the most part, Captain Titcomb was
skipper and Bradley was the "hand." With every
voyage, sometimes to Portland, to Portsmouth, to
Boston, and, of course, to New York, the boy learned
new things about his chief officer and to understand
him better.
He learned why it was that the Captain received
«o many presents and was considered such a "slick
article." His acquaintance among seafaring men
and ship owners was lat^e, and he was always ready
to do "little favors." Sometimes a captain, just in
from a foreign cruise, had, hidden away, two or three
pieces of silk, or jewelry, or even, in one case, a piano.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
1 1 4 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
that were intended for gifts to the folks at home, and
to the cost of which the custom house duty would be
an uncomfortable addition. Then Captain Titcomb
visited that ship, purely as a social function, and when
he came away the jewelry or silk came with him. In
the piano affair, it was bribery pure and simple, with
the addition of a little bullying of an inspector who
had made a few slips before that the Captain knew of.
Petty smuggling like this Captain Titcomb did not
consider a sin worth worrying about. There was a
smack of adventure in it and the fun of "taking
chances," that Captain £ri had mentiCHied.
Then, as a bargainer and a driver of sharp trades
with shipping merchants and others, the Captain was
an expert. He liked, as he said, to "dicker," and,
besides, he was always on the lookout to further the
interest of his owners. Looking out for the owners
was his hobby and explained, in a measure, why Will-
iams Brothers were willing to pay him more than
they paid their other skippers.
He was a "driver" with his crews, and every par-
ticle that was in the rickety Thomas Doane he got
out of her. He was easy so IcHig as a man obeyed
orders, but at the slightest hint of mutiny things hap-
pened. There was one instance of this on Bradley's
first trip out of New York to Portland.
There was a big Swede among the crew, a new
hand, who had shipped in Boston. He had been as
meek and as docile as a truck horse all the way over,
but early on the morning when the schooner was pass-
ing through Vineyard Sound bound east, Bradley,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE THOMAS DOANE 1 15
from the door of the galley, saw Saunders, the second
mate, in consultation with Mr. Bailey. The pair
looked troubled and kept glancing at the fo'castle
hatch.
Finally the Brst mate walked forward and called
down the hatch, "Hey, you, Swensen I Tumble up
here, lively!"
The watch on deck looked interested. From the
fo'castle came a growl from Swensen, and a smoth-
ered laugh from some one else.
"Lively, now I d'you hear?" shouted Mr. Bailey.
"Tumble up! If I come down there you'll have to
be carried."
After a moment of silence there was the sound of
heavy boots on the ladder and the Swede appeared.
His eyes were bloodshot and ugly and he staggered
a little as he walked. Mr. Saunders stepped forward
and stood at the side of his fellow-officer.
"Wherc'd you git your rum?" demanded Bailey.
"Roust out that bottle and heave it overboard."
Swensen looked sullenj but didn't answer.
"Roust out that bottle," repeated the first mate.
"D'you hear?"
The Swede clenched his fists. His little eyes were
half closed and he glanced swiftly at the two mates.
The sailors on deck had stopped work to watch the
proceedings, and there was a head or two at the
hatch. It was no time for argument. Both mates
sprang at the rebel. Swensen roared and jumped to
meet them. His enormous fist caught Saunders
under the chin and the second mate struck the
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
ii6 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
deck with a thump and lay still, completely "knocked
out."
Mr. Bailey — he was an old man whose iist-fighting
days were over — turned and ran to the after com-
panion. Just as he was about to descend, he was
met by Captain Titcomb. The latter was in his stock-
ing feet and without a coat.
"What's the row ?" he asked.
"That darned Swede is drunk and raisin* the
devil," shouted the excited first mate. "Jest let me
git my revolver. I'll I'am him somethin'."
"Revolver nothin'," said Captain Ezra. "You
don't need a revolver."
He walked briskly forward and confronted the
giant, who was, at the moment, in a mood where
murder was a pleasure. "Put down your hands I"
commanded the Captain.
"Look out for him," warned Mr. Bailey. "He's
an ox. He's jest b*t Saunders ; and killed him, too,
for what / know."
"Put down your hands!" repeated the skipper,
calmly.
Instead of put^ng them down the Swede struck his
two fists togetheriand, with a howl, leaped at the
little man in front of him. The Captain calmly
stepped aside, stuck out his foot, and the giant, trip-
ping over it, fell headlong. As he struggled, swear-
ing, to his knees, he was hit just under the eye and
fell again.
"Put down your hands I" repeated the Captain, in
exactly the same calm, matter-of-fact tone.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE THOMAS DOANE 1 17
"You go " began Swcnsen, but the back of his
head struck the deck so emphatically that he didn't
finish. After two more of these acrobatic perform-
ances he concluded not to get up, and lay still, look-
ing rather dazed and very much surprised.
''Ready to put down your hands ?" inquired Cap-
tain Ezra.
"Yas, sir," said Swensen.
"Ready to turn to and obey orders?"
*'Ya8, sir."
"All right. Where's the mm?"
"In my chist."
"One bottle or more?"
"Yust — ^yust von, sir, I tank,"
"You tank? O'Leary," to one of the crew at the
hatch, "go to this feller's cKist and bring up that bot-
tle and heave it overboard. If there's any more
liquor aboard here anywheres, bring that, too. DcHi't
forgit to find all there is, or your mem'ry'U be fresh-
ened up in a hurry. Lively now !"
Two bottles — one a third full of Jamaica rum and
the other half full of gin — ^were brought out and
thrown overboard.
"Humph !" grunted the Captain* "I jedge some-
body else felt the need of a tittle eye-opener this
momin'. There's consider'ble of this hulk here, but
he didn't stow away all that's missing from them bot-
tles." Then his tone changed and he turned savagely
to the rest of the crew.
"Is there anybody else here that doubts who's nin-
nln' this schooner?" he asked. "If there is, now's
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
n8 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
his time to be argued with. No? Well, all right.
I jedge, then, that you're willin' to do your drinkin'
, on shore. Mr. Bailey, set that feller," pointing to
Swensen, "to work and keep him at work till wc git to
the dock. If he quits, send for me. When I can't
handle a drunk without a revolver, let me know, wilh
you ?"
As he passed the galley and saw Bradley's pale,
frightened face looking out at him, the Captain did
not smile nor speak, but his left eyelid quivered for
an instant. It was a most reassuring wink and argued
for the serenity and self-confidence of the winker.
Bradley had idolized his captain before; he would
have jumped overboard for him cheerfully after that.
And so the Thomas Doane passed and repassed
Cape Cod on her short voyages, and Bradley, with
every trip, learned more of the sea and the seaman's
life. At the end of his three months he went home
for a week's stay, but he had already made up his
mind to return to the schooner again. Captain Tit-
comb had said that he was pleased with him, and
hinted at a steady rise in wages and promotion, later
on. He was earning his living now — it cost little
' to live — and he sent home a few dollars to the "old
maids" every now and then.
His first home-Joming was a great event. The
supper that first night was almost equal, in the
amount of food on the table, to his dinner with the
Captain at the New York restaurant. In fact, Bnid-
■ ley, released from salt junk and fo'castle grub, ate so
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE THOMAS DOANE 119
much that he suffered with the nightmare and groaned
so dismally that the alarmed sisters pcHinded on his
chamber door, and Miss Tempy insisted that what
he needed was a dose of "Old Dr. Thomas' Discov
ery" — her newest patent medicine — and a "nice hot
cup of pepper tea."
There was no music during the meal, but the "(dd
maids" talked continuously. The hemming and the
shawl industry were bringing in some money, though
not yet what Miss Tempy anticipated, and they haA
had a windfall in the shape of a ccmtribution from
the Sampson fund.
"You see," explained Miss Tempy, "it come so
sudden that it seemed almost like Providence had
heard us talkin* that night and provided for us same
as it did for Jonah in the Bible, when the robins fed
him."
" 'Twan't Jonah," broke in Mias Prissy, *' 'twas
Elijah, and they wan't robins but ravens."
"Never mind, 'twas birds and they fed somebody.
I'm sure poor Jonah needed it, after the time he had,
bein' eat up by whales and things. Well, anyway.
Prissy got a letter from the Sampson folks, and they
, said that there was a fund for mariners' children —
I of course, we ain't children any more — ^but then "
i "We're all the children father had," interrupted
the older sister. "The letter said that there was
money due us from the fund, and that we was en-
titled to so much every year, most a hundred dollars.
Now I knew about the Sampson thing, but / thought
*twas charity for poor people, and Tempy and mc
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
1 20 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
have got to livln' on charity — not yet, I hope. Bat
it »eem«, 'cordtn' to the letters I had from 'em, that
the money belonged to u«, «o **
"So we get a check every once in a while," cried
Miss Tempy. "And how riiey knew and wrote jest
i.t this timet It's miraculous, that's what it v3,
miraculous I"
Bradley thought of his conversation with Captain
Titcomb and the afiair did not seem so miraculous,
but he knew the Captain would not wish him to ex-
plain, and 90 said nothing.
by Google
A QUESTION OF POLICY.
rE Thomas Doane was at her dock in New
York, and Bradley, now twenty years old and
a "sure enough" second mate, was on her
deck, watching the foremast hands clearing up the
coal dust that begrimed everything. The. schooner
had carried coal for over a year now, and her latest
occupation had not improved her appearance. She
was old enough before, and patched and mended
enough, and to turn her into a collier seemed a final
humiliation. Captain Titcomb had felt it keenly,
and his disgust was outspoken.
"Well, by crimusteel" he had ejaculated, when bis
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
1 2» PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
flat-footed rebellion had been smothered by anothei
raise in salary; "I used to dream about commandin'
a Australian clipper some day or 'nother, but I never
dreamed that I'd come to be skipper of a coal-hod,
and a second-hand, rusted out coal-hod, at that.
Blessed if it ain't enough to make the old man — dads
I mean — turn over in his gravel Come on, Brad;
let's go to the theatre. I want to forgit it."
His self-respea compelled him to scrub and scour
more than ever, and his crews earned their wages.
However, coal carrying seemed to be profitable, and
Williams Brothers kept the old schooner at it, win<
ter and summer.
And Bradley was second mate. The promotion
had been gradual, from "roustabout and cabin boy"
to green hand and then able seaman, and, at the be-
ginning of his third year, to the coveted officer's posi-
tion. He had studied his profession with the care he
gave to anything that particularly interested him.
Captain Titcomb was giving him lessons in naviga-
tion, for, as the Captain said, "You ain't goin' to make
the mistake I made. Brad, and stick to shallow water
all your life. I learned to lay out a course and take
a reck'nin' years ago, and, though I ain't made much
luse of my learnin*, I hope to see you on a steamer's
bridge one of these days; not runmn' a floatin' fire-
shovel like this derelict;" by which collection of pet
names he meant the Thomas Doane.
The Captain had another project in his mind, a sort
of secret hobby that he hinted at every little while, but
never told. These hints usually followed a particu-
by Google
A QUESTION OF POLICY 123
jarly disagreeable trip, or when the rickety Thomas
Doane behaved even more like a cantankerous old
maid than was her wont. Then, when he and Brad-
ley were alone, the Captain would wake from a day-
dream to say :
"Brad, I git more and more sick of this bein' some-
body else's errand boy every minute. Some of these
days I'm goin' to take a whack at somethin' diff'rent,
and I have a notion what 'twill be, too. I guess likely
I may ask you to come in with me. I b'lieve it's a
good notion. Tell you 'bout it some day."
But he never did.
Bradley bad grown tall and broad during his term
of cruising. He had learned self-reliance, and his
voice had a masterful ring. When he went back to
Orham nowadays the "old maids" took special de-
light in having him escort them to church, and Miss
Tempy'-s eyes during the sermon were more often
fixed upon him than upon the minister. The money
that he sent the sisters amounted to something now,
and he had an account in the savings bank.
Now, as he stood by the rail, with his hands in his
pockets, he heard a step on the wharf behind him and
turned to see Captain Tltcomb jump from the string-
piece, catch the shroud and swing aboard. The Cap-
tain's usually good-natured face had a scowl on it,
and he was plainly not happy.
Bradley touched his cap. "How are things going
up at the office ?" he asked.
"Plumb to the devil," was the short reply. Theuj
glancing up at the young man's face and looking huT'
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
124 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
riedly away again, he added, "Come aft; I want tm
talk to you."
Seated in the dingy cabin, the Captain took a cigar
from his pocket, bit off the end with a jerk and
smoked in great pufFs. Bradley waited for him to
speak ; the skipper's ill-humor and obvious discontent
had come upon him the atemoon of the day the
Thomas Doane reached port and had grown steadily
worse. Each morning Captain Titcomb had spent at
the office of Williams Brothers, and when he re-
turned to the schooner he had done little but smoke,
scowl and pace the deck. The second mate was wor-
ried, but he asked no questions.
"Brad," said the Captain, looking at the shabby
carpet on the cabin floor, "we're goin' to have a new
mate."
Bradley was surprised. "Is Mr. Bailey gomg to
leave?" he asked. The old first mate had been as
much a part of the Thomas Doane as her mainmast.
"T'heyVe given him the Arrow — the new schooner.
He's goin' to run her."
"Why, why I Cap'n Ezra I I thought she was
promised to you."
"I thought so, too, but I missed my reck'nin', It
seems. Williams — he ain't ha'f the man his brother
was — he wants me to wait till the other one — the
four-master — 's off the ways. Then I can have her
- — if I want her,"
"But she won't be ready for six months, though 1
guess from what I hear she'll be worth waiting for.
Who'll have the old Doane then?"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gk'
A Q UES TION OF FOLIC y 1 2 j
Captain Titcomb crossed his legs, but didn't answer.
Instead he asked: "Brad, how would you like t<s
sail under Bailey? You and him got 'long first rate,
I wouldn't wonder if I could git you the second mate's
berth on the Arrow. She's bran-new and clean ; not
like this hen-coop," and he kicked a stateroom door
with emphasis.
Bradley did not hesitate. "I guess if you can
stand the hen-coop, I can," he said, decisively. "I'd
rather wait with you, thank you."
"I don't know's you'd better. Look here," anil
for the first time the Captain raised his eyes. "You
know I wouldn't try to influence you if 'twan't for
your own good. I honestly think 'twould be better
for you if you sailed on the Arrow."
"But why?"
"Oh! because. Bailey's a good man and an Al
sailor."
"He isn't half the sailor you are ; nor half the man,
cither."
"Much obliged. I'll stand for the sailor part, but
I ain't so sure about the rest. Brad, sometimes I wish
I hadn't stuck so close to 'owners' orders' and had
took a few observations on my own hook. Maybe
then But it's hard for an old dog to learn new
tricks. I s'pose I'm a fool to worry. Money's 'bout
all there is in this world, ain't it ?"
"A good many folks seem to think it is."
"And other folks don't think any the less of 'em
for it. Well, I've laid my course and I'll stick
to it till all's blue. Brad, will you, as a favor to
,z,;i.,C00gIC
126 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
me, chuck up your berth here and ship 'board the
ArTOwt"
"Cap'n Ez, if you want me to quit this packet,
you'll have to heave me overboard; that's all."
The skipper looked at the clear eyes and the firm
jaw of the young six-footer opposite.
"That goes, does it?" he asked.
"That goes. Cap'n Ez, you've been the best
friend I've ever had, except the old maids, and —
maybe, one more. I don't want you to think I'm not
ambitious, because I am. I'm just as anxious to
make something of myself as you can be to have me,
but I've made up my mind, and, for the present, any-
way, while you sail a vessel, I sail with you — unless
you really order me to quit."
The older man hesitated. "Well," he said, after
two or three puffs at the cigar, "I ought to order it,
p'raps, but I'll be hanged if I can. Brad Nickerson,
I think as much of you as I would of a son, and your
good opinion's wuth — I don't b'lieve you know how
much it's wuth to me. But — shake hands, will you ?"
Puzzled and troubled, Bradley extended his hand,
and the Captain clasped it firmly in his own. For a
moment it seemed that he was about to say something
more, but he did not. Giving the second mate's hand
a squeeze, he dropped it, and settled back in his chair,
smoking and, apparently, thinking hard. As he
thought, his lips tightened and the scowl settled more
firmly between his brows. Five minutes of silence,
and then the skipper threw the half-tinished cigar
into a comer and rose to his feet. His tone was
by Google
A QUESTION OF POLICY 127
sharp, and there was no trace of the feeling so re-
cently manifested.
"We sail to-morrer momin'," he said, stepping to
the companion ladder, "The new first matc'U be
here to-night. His name's Burke."
Bradley did not move. "J«st a minute, Cap'n Ez,"
he faltered. "You — you — I know it's none of my
business, but Well, you understand, I guess.
You're in trouble— anybody can see that. Wtm't you
let me help you out?"
The Captain paused with his foot on the ladder.
"My troubles are my own," he answered, without
looking back. "You be thankful you ain't got any.
And here!" the tone was almost savage; "you take
my advice and obey orders and don't ask questions."
He went on deck immediately and, after a mo-
ment, Bradley followed him. The rebuff was so un-
expected and so undeserved, the circumstances con-
sidered, that it hurt the young man keenly. His
pride was touched, and he made up his mind that
Captain Titcomb should have no further cause for
complaint, so far as interference by his second officer
was concerned. As for thfc Captain, he kept to him-
self and said little to anyone during the afternoon.
The new first mate came on board that evening.
He was a thick-set, heavy man, who talked a great
deal, swore profusely and laughed loudly at his own
jokes. He seemed to know his business and, as the
Captain would have said, "caught hold" at CHice.
They sailed the next morning, and, by the time the
tug left them, Bradley fancied that he noticed a dif-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
1 2 8 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
ference in the state of affairs aboard the schooner.
The usual rigid discipline seemed to be lacking.
There was no rebellion or sign of mutiny, but merely
a general shiftlessness that Mr. Burke did not seem
to notice. Strange to say, Captain Titcomb did not
notice it, either, or, if he did, said nothing. Bradley
did not interfere ; he had not forgotten the advice to
"obey orders and ask no questions."
There was a good wind and a smooth sea, and the
Captain drove the Thomas Doane for all she was
worth. By the afternoon of the following day they
were in Vineyard Sound. Bradley's suspicions had,
by this time, come to be ahnost certainties. For two
or three sailors to show signs of drunkenness on the
first morning out of port was nothing strange, but to
have those symptoms more pronounced the evening
of the second day was proof that there were bottles in
the fo'castle. But Captain Titcomb, usually the first
to scent the presence of these abominations and to
punish their owners, now, apparently, was unaware of
their presence. And the first mate, too, cither did
not see or did not care,
Bradley was standing by the fo'castle just at dusk
that evening when a sailor bumped violently into him
in passing. The second mate spoke sharply to the
offender, and the answer he received was impudent
and surly.
"Here, you!" exclaimed Bradley, seizing the man
by the shoulder and whirling him violently around.
"Do you know who you're talking to ? Speak to me
again like that and I'll break you in two."
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
A QUESTION OF POLICY 129
The man — he was a new hand — mumbled a reply
to the effect that he "hadn't meant to say nothin'."
"Well, don't say it again. Stand up. You're
drunk. Now, where did you get your liquor?"
"Ain't got none, sir."
"You're a liar. Stand up, or you'll Ue down for a
good while. Anybody with a nose could smell rum
if you passed a mile to wind'ard. Where did you
get it?"
The sailor began a further protestation, but Brad-
ley choked it off and shook him savagely. The first
mate, hearing the scuffle, came hurrying up.
"What's the row, Mr. Nickerson?" he ssked.
"This man's drunk, and I want to know where the
rum came from."
Mr. Burke scowled fiercely. "Lode here!" he
shouted, "is that so? Are you drunk?"
"No, sir."
"You're mighty close to it. Why ," and here
the first mate swore steadily for a full minute. "Do
you know what I'd do to a man that brought rum
aboard a vessel of mine? I'd use his blankety-
blanked hide for a spare tops'l and feed the rest of
his carcass to the dogfish. Git out of here, and re-
member I'm watchin' you sharp."
He gave the fellow a kick that sent him flying,
and, turning to Bradley, said in a confidential whis-
per : "Ain't it queer how a shore drunk'll stick to a
man? I've seen 'em come aboard so full that they
stayed so for a week afterwards."
"I think they've got the liquor down for'ard here"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
I30 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"I guess not. If I thought so I'd kill the whole"
— half dozen descriptive adjectives — "lot. They
can't play with me, blank, blank 'em I"
But, in spite of Mr. Burke's fierceness, Bradley
wasn't satisfied. He believed that if the first mate
had let him alone he would have found the liquor.
However, he thought, if neither the skipper nor Mr.
Burke cared it was none of his business. But he was
uneasy, nevertheless.
By nine o'clock the si^s of drunkenness were so
plain that even the first mate had to admit the fact.
Only a very few of the men were strictly sober. One
of these was the big Swede, Swensen, Oddly enough,
this man had stuck to Captain Titcomb's schooner
every voyage since the skipper had knocked the fight
out of him. The novelty of a pood sound thrashing
was, apparently, just what the giant had needed, and
for the man who had "licked" him, he entertained
tremendous respect and almost love.
"Cap'n Ez, he knock the tar out of me," said
Swensen. "He stand no fooHn'. He's a man.
Hey?"
He liked Bradley, too, and had presented the lat-
ter with a miniature model of a three-masted schooner
in a bottle, beautifully done, and such "puttering"
work that it was a wonder how his big, clumsy fin-
gers could have made it.
But though Swensen and the Portuguese cook and
one or two more were sober, the rest of the crew
were not. Mr, Burke confessed as much to Bradley.
"They've got rum with *em, all right," he whis-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
A QUESTION OF POLICr 131
pcred. "But we'll be to Boston to-morrer, and there
ain't no use startin' a row till daylight. Then some
of these smart Alecs'U lind out who's who in a hurry,
or my fist don't weigh what it used to. Better not
say nothin' t9 the skipper," he added. "No use to
worry him."
It was odd advice from a mate, but, as Bradley
could see, to his astonishment, there was no need
of telling Captain Titcomb. It was plain enough
that the latter knew his crew's condition and deliber-
ately ignored it. Men stumbled past him and he
looked the other way. Simple orders were bungled
andhe did not reprove. Only once that evening did
his wrath blaze out in the old manner. A sailor was
ordered by him to do something and, instead of the
dutiful "Aye, aye, sir," he replied with a muttered
curse.
The next instant Captain Ezra's list was between
his eyes and he fell, to be jerked to his feet again and
back to the rail with the skipper's hand twisted in his
shirt collar.
"Damn you I" said the Captain, between his teeth.
"I'll— I swear I'll "
Mr. Burke came running and whispered eagerly in
his commander's ear. Captain Titcomb's arm
straightened and the sailor was thrown across the
deck.
"Go for'ardi" roared the skipper, "and if yoa
want to live, you keep out of my sight. I can't help
it, Burke; I've got some self-respect left yit."
That was all, and Bradley wondered.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
132 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Under such circumstances accidents were bound to
occur. But the one that did occur was serious. Brad-
ley was below when it happened. He usually took the
first watch, but to-night Captain TitCMnb said he
would take it, and Mr. Burke would stay up with him
for awhile. So the second mate "turned in." He was
awakened by a racket on deck, and the sound of voices
and footsteps on the companion ladder. Opening his
stateroom door he saw four men descending the lad-
der carrying a fifth in their arms.
"What's the matter?" asked Bradley. "Who's
hurt?"
"It's the skipper," replied one of the men, in a
frightened voice. "He fell and hurt his head.
He "
Bradley sprang into the cabin and saw Captain
TItcomb, unconscious, and with the blood running
from an ugly cut on his forehead.
"For God's sake " he began, but was Inter-
rupted by Burke, who, with a very white face, was
descending the ladder.
"Hush up!" commanded the first mate. "Don't
make a row. 'Taln't nothin' serious, I guess. Jest
cussed foolishness. Put him on the locker there,
you."
This is what had happened: The schooner was
passing out of the Sound and, as the night was black
and hazy, they were using the lead frequently. The
Thomas Doane had a high after-deck and to reach
the waist one must descend a five-foot ladder. A
sailor, not too sober, had thrown the lead and. in
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
A QUESTION OF POLICY 133
passing aft with the Itne, had fouled it at the ladder.
Captain Titcomb, losing his temper at the man's
clumsiness, had run toward him, tripped in the line
and pitched head-tirst over the fellow's shoulder to
the main deck. The sailor's body had broken the
fall, somewhat, and the skull was not fractured, but
it was bad enough.
They bathed and bandaged the bleeding forehead,
hurriedly pulled off the Captain's clothes and got him
into his berth. He came to himself a little as they did
so, but was too weak to talk and did not seem to
realize what was going on. Mr. Burke was the most
agitated man aboard. He swore steadily, and cursed
the foremast hand who was responsible, beginning
with his remote ancestors and ending with any grand-
children that he might have later on.
"This is a devil of a mess!" he growled. "Just
now, too. I'd have rather broke my own neck twice
over. Nickerson, you'll have to stay below here and
look after him. I've got to be on deck."
The cook, who had helped bring the Captain Into
the cabin, lingered after the first mate had gcwie.
Bradley questioned him about the accident.
"Thoma, he done it," said the cook. "The line,
she git mess up by the "
"He was drunk," broke in Bradley. "He's been
drunk all the afternoon. Isn't that so"
The cook looked hastily at the ladder, then at the
Captain. Then, nodding emphatically, he whispered :
"Ya-as, sir. They most all drunk. I never seen so
much drink on schooner; not on Cap'n Titcomb's
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
134 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
schooner, anyway, and I sail with him for five
year."
Together they watched the Captain as the hours
passed. He spoke now and then and seemed better,
but, for the most part, he slept. Bradley changed
the bandages on his forehead, and gave him stimu-
lants when he woke. Mr. Burke came below every
little while to make Inquiries. He was very nervous.
"He's all right," he said, as he was leaving for the
third time. "It knocked him silly, but his skull's
whole, near's I can find out, and he'll be feelin' good
in a day or two. You turn in, Mr. Nickerson. The
doctor hcrc'U look out for the skipper."
But Bradley would not go to bed. He was wor-
ried about the Captain, and even more worried about
the schooner. He did not like Mr. Burke, and he
was by no means sure — judging by what he had seen
— that the mate knew how to handle a crew. About
two o'clock he decided to go on deck.
It was a black night, with clouds covering the sky
and a haze low down on the horizon. It was not
thick enough for the fog-horns to be sounding, but
the shore was invisible. There was almost a fair
wind, and the schooner, heeled well over, was push-
ing through the quiet sea !n good shape.
Bradley leaned on the rail and looked over the.
water toward where the shore should be. As he
stood there the haze blew aside for a moment and
he saw, not more than two miles away and ahead of
the schooner, the twinkle of a light. Then it disap-
peared again. He walked aft. One of the new
by Google
A QUESTION OF POLICY 135
hands was at the wheel, and there was a distinct smell
of rum in that vicinity.
"Where's the mate?" aslced Bradley.
"For'ajd, sir."
"Who gave you that course?"
"Mr. Burke, sir."
Burke was standing by the foreshrouds, locking
over the side. He started when Bradley touched his
arm.
"Excuse me, Mr, Burke," said the second mate.
"Where are we?"
"Turned the Rip an hour or so ago." Burke's
tone was distinctly unpleasant. "What are you doin*
here? Thought I told you to stay with the skipper
or turn in."
"I couldn't sleep, so I came on deck a minute.
Isn't she pretty close in ? I thought I saw the Skakit
Light just now."
"Saw nothin' I Skakit Light's away oS yonder.
Water enough here to float a Cunarder. What's the
matter with you? 'Fraid I ain't on to my job?
When I want your help I'll ask you for it; I've sailed
these waters when you was a kid."
"Well, I didn't mean to "
"Then shut up I You go below and 'tend to the
skipper."
Bradley btt his lip and turned away. If Burke
was right he had no business to interfere. If he
wasn't right the Thomas Doane was shaving the
shoals altogether too close. He went below, found
Captain Titcomb sleeping quietly and, a little later
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
136 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
came on deck again to lean cm the rail amidahips,
and, once more, stare at the foggy darkness.
A big figure loomed close beside him. It was
Swenaen, and he obviously wanted to speak.
"Well, Swensen," said Bradley, "what is it?"
The Swede leaned forward and, shading his mouth
with his hand, whispered, hoarsely: "Mr. Necker-
son, you know 'bout the fust mate? He all right?
What?"
Bradley had been brought up to discourage famil-
iarity with men before the mast.
"What are you talking about?" he asked,
sharply.
"Nawthin', sir. Only, he know this course? Ah
see Skakit Light twice yust now, and only a mile'n
'half off. That not 'nough — not here."
"Are you sure you saw it?"
"Yas, sir."
Bradley turned away. He hated to risk another
snub from the mate, and he fully realized the danger
of interfering with a superior officer, but Captain
Tltcomb was not in command, and here was Swen-
sen 's testimony to back his own that the schooner was
running too close to the dangerous Cape Cod beaches.
The course she was on was taking her still closer in
and the fog was growing thicker.
This time Burke was standing by the man at the
wheel. He swore when the second mate approached,
and snarled: "Well, what's the matter now?"
"Mr. Burke, are you sure that wasn't the Skakit
Light I saw? Swensen says he's seen it twice, and
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
A QUESTION OF POLICY 137
not more than a mile and a half away. If that's so,
we're running into shoal water. Hadn't I better try
soundings?"
In a blast of profanity, Burke consigned both Brad-
ley and Swensen to the lowest level in the brimstone
future.
"Go below!" he yelled. "Go below and stay be-
low, or I'll find out why." Then, as if he realized
that he was showing too much temper, he added, in a
milder tone: "It's all right, Nickerson. We're
three mile off shore, and Skakit's astern of us. Go
below ; ain't the skipper enough to make me nervous
without you shovin' your oar in?"
And then from somewhere forward came a fright-
ened yell, and the sound of some one running. Swen-
sen came bounding up the ladder from the main deck.
"Breakers ahead I" he shouted. "Breakers ahead !
Put her over I Keep her off, quick 1"
Burke's face went white and then crimson.
"Breakers be hanged I" he cried. "Keep her as
she is I"
But the Swede was dancing up and down. There
were confused cries forward, and other men came
running.
"Starboard your helm !" bellowed Swensen. "Put
her overl You can hear 'cm I Listen I"
He held up both hands to enforce silence, and for
a moment every sou! on deck stood listening. The
waves clucked along the schooner's side, the wind
sang in the rigging, the masts creaked. And then
another sound grew, as it were, into Bradley's ears.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
138 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
A low, steady murmur, now rising, now sinking. He
sprang toward the wheel.
"Put her over I" he shouted. "There are break-
era. Starboard your helml Starboard I"
"Keep her as she is I" bellowed Burke, bending
forward with his fists clenched. "Don't turn a
ispoke I"
"But, for heaven's sake, Mr. Burke 1 Are you
crazy? We'll be ashore in ten minutes I"
The first mate's eyes shone in the dim light. His
teeth showed white between his opened lips.
"By the livin' God A'mightyl" he gasped, chdt-
ingly, "I'll show you who's runnin' this craft. Keep
her as she is/"
Bradley forgot his duty as second officer, forgot
that half the crew were watching him, forgot every-
thing except that his best friend lay helpless in a
berth below, while his schooner was being run into
certain destruction. He leaped to the wheel and the
mate leaped to meet him.
Bradley stooped as he sprang forward, and it was
lucky for him that he did so. Burke's fist whizzed
past his ear, and the next moment the two mates were
clinched and struggling in the little space between
ithe deck-house and the after-rail. Bradley did not
attempt to strike; his sole idea was to get to the
wheel. Therefore, he merely warded off the furious
blows aimed at his head and struggled silently. But
the one-sided fight could not last long. Burke grad-
ually backed his opponent to the rail, and then, with-
out turning his head, he shouted:
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
A QUESTION OF POLICY 139
"Thoma, pass me a handspike. Lively, you "
The man Ihoma — he was half drunk and natur-
ally stupid — obediently placed the handspike in the
first mate's hand.
"Now then I" panted Burke, "by "
And then Bradley struck — a half-arm upper cut —
right under the ugly, protruding chin. Burke's teeth
clicked together ; he seemed to rise from the deck and
fell backward, at full length, almost under the feet
of Swensen. Bradley shoved the sailor from the
wheel and gave the latter a whirl. The schooner
shivered, turned slowly, the booms swept across her
deck, and alie heeled over on the other tack, with her
nose pointing well away from the beach and toward
the open sea.
Burke lay still for an Instant, spread-eagled on
the deck; then he rose to his feet. Bradley stooped
and picked up the handspike. The first mate glared
at the man who had knocked him down. Also he
looked respectfully at the handspike. • But if he had
been angry before he was crazy now.
"You mutineer I" he shouted, with an oath between
every word; "just wait a minute! I'll show you
how I treat mutineers."
He ran to the cabin companion and jumped down.
Bradley, trying to appear calm before the crew.i
glanced at the sails and then out over the side. Sud-'
dcniy, so close that their ear-drums throbbed with it,
there boomed out of the dark a thuttering, shaking
roar, that swelled to a shriek and died away — the
voice of the great steam foghorn of the Skakit Ught.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
I40 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"Lawd Gawdl" muttered Swenscn. "Ve vos that
nearl"
Burke came bounding up the companion ladder.
Something bright and shiny gleamed in his hand.
"Now then !" he cried, "we'll see what "
But two mammoth paws clasped his wrists, the
hand with the revolver was turned backward till the
barrel pointed at the end of the gaff, and big Swen-
sen's voice said, calmly;
"Yah, I guess not. Yust vait a minute, Mr.
Burke, Mr. Neekerson, vat I do vlt him, hey?"
It was mutiny, of course, mutiny pure and simple,
but Bradley had gone too far to back out now.
"Take him below and lock him in his stateroom,"
he said. "Tell the doctor to see that he doesn't
break out. Then come back to me. Yes, you may
give me the revolver."
Swensen twisted the pistol from the first mate's
hand and then, picking him up as he would a ten-year-
old boy, started for the cabin. Burke struggled
furiously and swore Hke a wild man, but he couldn't
break away. The shouts grew fainter and then were
muffled almost entirely by tte closing of the state-
room door.
Bradley put the revolver in his pocket.
' "Now, then, men," he said; "I'm skipper of this
schooner for the rest of this voyage. Is there any-
body here that doesn't understand it? No? All
right. O'l^ary, go for'ard on lookout. Peterson,
heave the lead. Swensen," as the big Swede came up
the ladder, "take the wheel and keep her as she is."
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
J QUESTION OF POLICY 141
All that morning, until daybreak sent the fog roll-
ing to the north in tumbled clouds, the lead was go-
ing, and the crew were busy on the Thomas Doane.
Bradley stood close at Swensen's elbow and edged her
out, feeling his way with the lead, and listening to the
calls of the foghorns. The schooner's own foot-
power horn was kept tooting, and, by and by, as they
got out into the ship channel, it was answered by
other horns and bells, some close aboard, some
distant.
But by breakfast time it was clear and line and,
before a cracking wind, the schooner walked along as
if she realized her escape and was trying to show her
gratitude. Through that day Bradley stood by the
wheel, only leaving to eat a mouthful and to inquire
after Captain Titcomb, who was much improved and
beginning to ask questions. And just at dusk the gilt
dome of the Boston State House shone dimly in the
dying light, and the Thomas Doane, resting from her
labors, moved easily behind the tug up to her dock.
She had made splendid time, but Bradley was far
from happy. There was trouble coming, and he
knew it.
He sent word to the cook, ordering the latter to
unlock the stateroom door and release the imprisoned
first mate. A minute later the cook came on deck, his
eyes shining with excitement.
"Mr. Burke, he go right into the skipper's room
and shut the door," whispered the Portuguese. "And
now they talk, talk, talk. And Mr. Burke he swear
all the time."
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
142 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
When the first mate appeared he did not speak to
any one, but jumped to the wharf and hurried away.
A doctor was sent for and Captain Titcomb's wound
was dressed. The physician said the injury was
not serious. There was no concussion of the brain,
and the patient would be all right in a couple of
days.
Bradley didn't sleep much that night. Next morn-
ing the Captain sent for him. When the second mate
entered the stateroom he found the skipper sitting on
the edge of the berth with a big bandage on his head,
but looking very bright and like himself.
He seemed oddly embarrassed when Bradley came
in. For a moment or two he did not speak. The
second mate, who had expected a scorching rebuke
and was prepared to meet it, was surprised at the
mildness of his first remaik.
"Now then, Brad," said Captain Titcomb, "set
down. What's this about you and the mate? Tell
the whole yam, first and last."
So Bradley told it, just as it happened— the crew's
behavior, his suspicions, the sighting of the Light and
what foUowed.
"Humph !" Capt^n Ezra nodded. "Yup, that's
about what Burke said. Now, Brad, I s'pose you
knew that Mr. Burke was your superior ofHcer, and
that what he said was law for you, didn't you ?"
"Yes, ar ; but "
"Never mind the 'buts' now. Taking command
by force is serious — mighty serious."
"I did what I thought was right, Cap'n Ez — what
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
A QUESTION OF POLICY 143
I b'lieved you'd think was right. The schooner would
have been aground in ten minutes if I hadn't."
"Well, s'pose she would. There'd have been no
lives lost. Plenty of boats and a smooth sea."
"But Mr. Burke knew she was headed for the
shoals. He must have known it. The owners
would have "
"What do you know about the owners and their
affairs?"
"But the schooner?"
"She's a hulk, that's all — and insured."
The reply was an odd one, but the tone in which
it was made was odder still. Strange things had
happened during the past week; Captain Tltcomb's
silent ill-humor, the interview the day before leaving
New York, the sudden change of mates, the skipper's
studied indifference to the demoralization among the
crew, Burke's frantic determination to keep on the
course set by him even after the proximity to the
shoals had been proven beyond a doubt — all these
were fingers pointing in one direction. Bradley, how-
ever, had not looked in that direction. But now the
last wisp of fog blew away and he saw clearly.
"Cap'n Ez !" he gasped. "Cap'n Ez I Were you
going to wreck her on purpose ?"
The Captain shifted in his seat, but did not look at
his companion.
"Orders are orders," he said. "Mr. Burke was
your skipper — with me out of the way— and you
ought to have minded him, just as I should my
owners."
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
144 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"Wreck a vessel for her insurance I" groaned Brad-
ley. "I didn't think you'd do it, Cap'n Ez. I didn't
think you'd do it!"
The dismay, the grieved disappointment and hor-
ror in his friend's tone, seemed to hurt Captain Tit-
comb sorely. He glanced at Bradley, and then
looked away again.
"I've heard all sorts of yams about you in Or-
ham," went on Bradley. "They say you're too smart
and that you'll bear watching and all that. I've
called those that said it liars, and I've stood by you
through thick and thin. But now What do you
think they'd say if they knew of this? What do you
think Miss Prissy and Miss Tempy would say?
Why, they b'lieve you're the best "
The Captain broke in testily. "Never mind all
, that," he said. "As for Squealer Wixon and Jabc
Bailey's talk, I don't care a snap. And the old maids
ain't exactly up to date in this world's way of lookin'
at things. S'pose the old Doane was booked for
thunderation by the shoal route — ^what of it? Mind,
I only say s'pose. Better to go that way on a smooth
night, with all hands saved, than to bust up in a squall
and drown us all, as was likely to happen any minute.
INobody loses but the insurance folks, and they'd lose
quick enough, anyhow. Why, it's done a hundred
times a year all along this coast. 'Member when the
Bay Queen piled up on the beach off Setuckit last
summer? Everybody was as sartin as could be that
'twas done a-purpose, but you couldn't prove nothin'.
So with the Rhoda Horton and the Banner, and any
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
I QUESTION OF POLICY 145
quantity more. S'pose — mind, I'm only s'posin' —
that you'd got orders from your owners — orders, you
understand — to do somethin' you didn't like? S'pose
you'd always stuck to owners' orders a good deal
clMer'n you had to the Bible ? You talk a lot — so do
other folks — but what would you have done?"
"I'd have been honest, and said 'No.' "
"Humph I Well, I guess you would. You're the
nearest thing to an honest man that I've run across
;^t. Honesty is the best policy, they say. But was it
honesty that made ha'f the millionaires? Are Will-
iams Brothers rich because they've always been hon-
est? Josh Bangs is in the poorhouse, and he's the
most honest critter in Orham, while his brother Sol is
chairman of school committee, deacon in the church,
has money in the bank, and would skin the eye-teeth
out of a Down-East horse jockey. Why "
"Cap'n Ez," interrupted Bradley, "stop talkin*
that way. You don't believe a word of it. I know
you too well. The trouble with you is that everlast-
ing 'owners' orders.' I almost think that that acci-
dent last night was, as Miss Tempy would say, 'sent'
to keep you from doing something you'd be sorry for
all the rest of your days."
The Captain looked at the speaker oddly. "Then
you cal'late," he said, "that I ought to thank God
A'mighty and a tipsy fo-mast hand for savin' what
the book folks would call my honor? That's all right;
only wait till Williams Brothers send me their thanks
on a clean plate, with gilt doodads 'round the edges.
Williams Brothers and your particular friend, Mr.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
146 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
BuHec, ain't been heard from yet, my son. Well,
Brad, I s'pose you'll be packin' up to-night, anyway.
An honest man, 'cordin' to your log, ain't needed on
the Thomas Doane. I told you you ought to ship
*board die ArroK.*'
"I didn't ship on the Arrow because I'd ntdicr be
with you than anybody else on the earth. I wouldn't
sail with a rascal that would wreck a schooner, and I
don't believe — I know you're not really a rascal. Oh,
can't you seet It iwi't myself I'm thinking about —
it's you — you!"
The Captain took his knife from his piJcket and
whittled a comer off the cabin table before repl^ng.
Then he said, slowly:
"Much obliged, Brad. But what do you s'pose
Williams Brothers will want me to do when they give
me orders for this liner's next trip ?"
"I don't know."
"S'pose those orders are the same as the last ; what
then?"
"Then lay 'No,' like an honest man."
Captain Ezra gave a short laugh. "Honesty, my
son, is like di'monds, sometimes — it's pretty, but it
comes high. You turn in. I'm goin' to set up a while
and smc^e."
Bradley reluctantly went to bed, but when he
awoke, several hours later, he heard the Captain stir-
ring in his stateroom.
Next morning the skipper received a telegram.
"Williams Brothers, havin' heard from friend
Burke, want to have a little chat with the commander
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
A QUESTION OF POLICY 147
of the clipper Thomas Doane" he remarked to Brad-
ley. "That doctor squilgeein' my maintop with his
physic stuff has made me feel Al again. I'm goin' to
New York to-night on the Fall River Line."
And he went, leaving Mr. Burke in command of
the schooner, a state of affairs not too delightful to
Bradley. But the Captain's stay was a short one. He
was back on board early the second morning, and
called the second mate into the cabin.
"Well, Brad," he said, "I got my orders."
"Yes, sir," anxiously. "What were they?"
" 'Bout the same as the last."
"And — and — what did you say?"
Captain Titcomb leaned over and deliberately
knocked his cigar ash into the centre of a carpet
flower. Then he looked up quickly and answered,
with a quizzical smile :
"If you want to know, I told Williams Brothers to
go to hell, and, honesty bein' the best policy, you and
me's out of a job I"
by Google
CHAPTER Vm
HOME AGAIN.
^ ^ ^^^ RAD," asked Captain Titcomb, creasing
W^L the morning paper into folds and tossing
Ma^ it on the bed, "what are you plannin' to
do, now that our late lamented owners have com-
mitted linancial suicide by cuttin' you off in the flower
of your youth, so to speak?"
It was late the morning of the third day after the
Captain's return from his flying visit to New York,
They had said good-bye to the Thomas Doane the
previous forenoon, and were now occupying a room
in the United States Hotel. Bradley had rather ex-
by Google
HOME AGAIN 149
pected to leave at once for Orham, but the Captain
asked him to wait a little while. "If we go home
now," he said, "we'll have to answer four million
questions, and my head's a little leaky yet from tryin'
to stave in the deck with it. I don't believe I could
answer more'n three million and a ha'f without strain- ^
in' my intellect. I can sympathize with BJuey Batch-
eldor. Bluey works like blazes most of the time,
keepin' a chair from slippin' its moorin's, and 'bout
once a year he has to come up to Boston on a vaca-
tion. What I need is a vacation. We'll hang 'round
here for a spell, if you don't care. Besides, I want
to think."
He had barely alluded to the momentous happen-
ings of the recent voyage, nor had he given any de-
tails of the circumstances leading up to them. Brad-
ley, for his part, had asked no questions. It was suf-
ficient for him to know that his best friend had been
saved from committing what, in his eyes, was a crime.
"Well," repeated Captain Titcomb, "what are you
plannin* to do?"
Bradley, who was sitting by the window, looking
down upon the hats of the people in the narrow street,
answered, slowly: "I don't know. I've been waiting
to find out what you intended doing."
The Captain crossed his legs and tilted back in his
chair.
"I cal'Iate," he observed, "that I could walk out of
this gilded palace of luxury and run afoul of another
skipper's berth inside of an hour. Not at my old
wages, of course, but a pretty fair berth, all the same.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
1 50 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
You see, they know me pretty well alongshore. And
I wouldn't wonder if I could hook a sectmd mate's
place for you, at the same time. I don't know,
though," he added, slyly, "as you'd feel safe, bein' an
honest man and 'whiter than snow,' as the hymn-book
says, to sail along with me again. Hey?"
Bradley laughed. "I'd be willing to risk it, if you
think you can stand your end," he said.
"Well, I ain't jest sure whether the parson is the
best supercargo for a coastlti' packet, or not He's a
sort of spare hawser in case your morals part, hut the
business end of the deal is a question. However, I
don't believe we'll stop to fight that out jest now-
Fact is, Brad, I've had a kink in my mainshcet for a
cwisider'ble spell. I've been gittin sicker and sicker
of jumpin' when somebody else piped 'All hands.'
I've had a notion that some day I was goin' to cut
loose, and cruise on my own hook. You know I've
hinted at it for over a year. Now, it looks as if this
was my chance, or never. Brad, how'd you like to be
a wrecker?"
"A wrecker f Bradley's face showed his absolute
astonishment.
"Oh, I don't mean the line of wreckin' that is mak-
in' your eyes stick out at this minute. Thanks to my
second mate, I seem to have graduated from that, as
you might say. Maybe I did right — maybe I didn't.
At present I don't know whether to bless you or to
kick you. That's another thing to be decided on by
and by. But I mean a different kind of wreckin*. Do
you know Caleb Burgess, Cap't Jerry's cousin ?"
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HOME AGAIN 151
Yes; Bradley knew him. He owned a little
schooner that flitted along the Cape Cod coast, pick-
ing up floating wreckage, when it was of value, drag-
ging for anchors, dredging for chains and iron-work
lost by vessels in trouble, and doing a sort of nautical
old junk business.
"Well," went on the Captain, "Caleb's gittin' old,
and he'd like to sell out. Most folks think he's
scratched a bare livin' from the shoals, but I happen
to know that he's done a good deal better than that.
The old man told me how much he had in the bank,
and it wan't to be sneezed at. Now, I could buy that
schooner of his cheap. She isn't much, and money
would have to be spent on her, but she'd do for a
start. You understand, the wreckin* business I'd
do wouldn't be anchor-dragon' alone. There's
money in a first-class wreckin'-plant on Cape Cod.
Wrecks! Why, they pile up there three deep
every winter. Now, listen a minute, while I rise
to blow."
Bradley listened, and the Captain talked. He had
evidently given much thought to this proposition, and
his plans were ambitious. He believed that if a
capable man bought the Lizzie — that was the name
of the Burgess schooner — added to her equipment,
and sailed her himself, he could build up a profitable
business. The salvage of cargoes of stranded schoon-
ers, and of the schooners themselves, played a large
part in his plans. One or two good-sized jobs of this
kind, taken on a commission basis, would bring in
capital enough to warrant the purchase of a bigger
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
1 5 2 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
vessel, fitted with auxiliary power, with a diving
equipment, derricks, and the like.
"Then," said the Captain, rising and pacing up and
down the room, "a man could begin to shuck his coat,
and sail in. He could git some of the jobs the big city
wreckin' companies git, and there's money in them —
big money. And that would be only the beginnin'.
I'm dreamin', maybe, but why not, some day, a fleet
of wreckin' vessels, maybe a tug or two? And then
for raisin' sunk schooners — and all the rest of it."
"But wouldn't that take capital?"
"Sartin sure. But let me — us — prove tiiat the
profit's there, and the capital'U be donated, like
frozen potatcrs at a minister's surprise party. Oh,
I've thought it out I Now, here!"
And again he proceeded to go over the ground, giv-
ing iigures this time, showing for just how much, in
his opinion, the Lizzie could be bought, and how
much it would cost to fit her up for the preliminary
work. He said that he believed himself capable of
carrying on the business, as he had spent two years in
wrecking when he was Bradley's age, and so on.
"Now, Brad," he concluded, "what do you think
of it?"
"I believe that you could do it, Cap'n Ez."
"No; I couldn't do it, either — not alone. I'm too
much like the dinner the passenger on the steam-
boat told about — I'm good, but I need somethin' to
keep me down. I'm too much of a bom gambler;
take big risks for the fun of it. But you and me couM
do it. Oh, I've watched you. Brad, the way the
by Google
HOME AGAIN 153
youngest boy watched the last piece of cake I You're
cool-headed, and you look to see whether there's a
rope tied to the anchor 'fore you heave it overboard.
With you to plan and figure, and mc to whoop her up,
why Well, I've made mistakes before now, but
/ can't see any reason why we shouldn't, in two or
three years, both be makin' more money than Will-
iams Brothers would ever have paid us. Now, this is
how you can come in, if you want to."
The Captain's plan for Bradley's co-operation was,
briefly stated, just this. He (Captain Titcomb)
would provide the money for buying the Lizzie and
whatever else was immediately necessary. Bradley
would contribute his savings to the pile. They were
to be partners on equal shares, but Bradley was to
pay, from his share of whatever profits might come
from time to time, the amount necessary to make his
investment the equal of the Captain's. No new move
was to be made without the consent of both partners.
It was a very generous offer, and Bradley said so.
"No generosity about it," protested Captain Ezra.
"I'm lookin' out for myself, and I need you, as the
tipsy man said to the lamp-post. I tell you, honest —
i sha'n't go into this thing unless you go in with me.
Mavbe it's a fool notion, anyway. Well, there," he
concUrded, "now that I've unloaded my mind, we'll
go down to the Cape this afternoon. I'll look 'round,
and you take a week to think things over in. At the
ends of the week you can say 'Yes,' or 'No.' "
The conversation did not end here. Bradley was,
by this time, catching some of the Captain's enthusi-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
154 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
asm, and he had a great many questions to ask> The
forenoon was over by the time they had finished, and
Bradley agreed to take the week to "think it over in."
They caught the four o'clock train for Orham.
On the way down Captain Titcomb said :
"Brad, if It ain't too much of a strain on an honest
man's CMiscience, p'raps 'twould be a good thing for
us to say nothln' 'bout the reel reason why we left the
Thomas Doane. What do you think?"
Bradley looked up quickly.
"Cap'n, you didn't think I would say anything
about it, did you?"
"No; of course I didn't. Beg pard<Ki, and much
obliged. Brad." ■
The "old maids" were washing the supper dishes
when Bradley surprised them by walking into the
dining-room. When the first shock was over, the sis-
ters were the most delighted pair in Orham. They
insisted on preparing a bran-new meal for their
"boy," and no amount of protestation on his part ,
could change their minds.
"I do declare, Bradley!" said Miss Prissy, cutting
slices of bread for toast; "I honestly b'Ueved you
saved Tcmpy fr<Mn havln' a ccmniption fit. We
hadn't got a letter from you for over a week, and she
was about ready to start for Boston and swim after
you. Drownin' was the least thing she was sure had
happened."
"Don't you b'lieve her, Bradley," exclaimed Miss
Tempy, hurrying past with the "fruit-cake" box.
"She was jest as worried as I was, and only last night
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
HOME AGAIN 155
the said if you wasn't under Cap'n Titcomb's care,
she didn't know as she should sleep a wink."
They were very curious to know why Bradley had
■ come home so unexpectedly, and when they learned
that he had left the Thomas Doane and, not only
that, but that theCaptain also had left, they asked one
question after another. Bradley simply said that the
. Captain had other plans, and that he couldn't tell what
they were yet. The sisters knew from experience that
. there was no use coaxing when their ward had made
up his mind, and so changed the subject. But Miss
Tempy indulged in a good deal of silent speculation
as she watched him eat.
After supper they adjourned to the sitting-room.
Bradley was uneasy and several times glanced at the
clock. After a while he said that, if they didn't mind,
he should like to go out for an hour or so. Of course,
the sisters said, they "didn't mind," and he put on his
hat and went.
"There now I" exclaimed Miss Tempy, as the door
closed. "Where do you s'pose he's goin'? To see
the Cap'n, I presume likely."
Miss Prissy shook her head.
"I don't know," she answered, dubiously.
"Tempy, Bradley's a young man now, and I expect
we mustn't look to have as much of his society as
we used to. I have a sneakin' notion that, if you
wanted to find him this evenin', 'twould be a good
idea to hunt up Augusty Baker."
"Oh, dearl" sighed her sister. "That dreadful
dog girl I"
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156 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Miss Prissy's shrewd guess wasn't far wrong.
Bradley passed out of the Allen gate only to open the
one of the yard adjoining. His knock at the side
door apparently started a canine insurrection, for
there was a tremendous barking and growling inside,
and when old Mrs. Baker answered the knock the
heads of Tuesday and Winfield, the only survivors of
Gus' troop of pets, protruded from either side of her
skirt. Both dogs and old, lady were surprised and
glad to see the visitor.
"Why, Bradley Nickerson!" exclaimed Mrs.
Baker. "How do you do? Come, right in, won't
you? Git out! Git out, you provokin' critters!
Seems to me the older these dogs git, the worse they
are. But 'Gusty thinks as much of 'em as if they was
solid gold. When Peter was run over by the cars —
and 'twas a mercy, 'cause he had the mange comin' on
and was a sight to behold; 'Gusty said herself he
looked like a map of the South Sea Islands — she felt
as bad as if 'twas a human, every bit. No; she ain't
in, jest now. It's prayer-meetin' night, and she
thought she'd go — to save the reputation of the
fam'ly, she said. She's jest as much of an odd stick
as ever. Well, I'm sorry you won't step in and wait.
Come again, won't you ? How's Tempy's cold ? Did
Cap'n Titcomb come down with you? You don't
say ! Good-night."
The Bakers attended the Baptist Church, and
thither walked Bradley, his hands in his pockets and
his head full of the wrecking scheme. Already the
germs scattered by the Captain had begun to take ef-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
HOME AGAIN 157
feet, and the proposition looked more and more at-
tractive. It appealed to his ambition, and there was
an adventurous element in It that was especially allur-
ing. But the whole thing was such a radical depart-
ure from all his former plans for the future that he
did not intend to decide offhand; a week was not too
much time. He wanted to talk the mater oyer with
Gus, for she was a good listener and was almost like
a brother so far as interest in masculine affairs was
ccHicemed, He had not seen her for nearly sIk
months, although he had been at home three times
during that period. Once she had been at New Bed-
ford on a visit, once she was ill, and the third time
both she and her grandmother had gone to Boston on
a Mechanics* Fair excursion. Her letters came regu-
larly, however, and were bright and "newsy" always.
It was nearly nine o'clock, and the fence in front of
the little church was ornamented by a row of Orham's
young men, who were waiting for the meeting to
come to an end. Prayer-meetings In Orham seemed
:o be held especially for the benefit of feminine
worshippers and a few old men. The young fellows
drifted around to the church just before nine o'clock,
sat (HI the fence, and whittled and told stories. Then,
as the final hymn was sung, they formed in line at
either side of the vestry door, and, when the young
wc«nen came out, stepped forward to "see them
home." The old people were the only objectors to
this performance ; the girls didn't object at all, and
the clergyman only mildly criticised. Possibly he re-
alized that the sense of religious duty which filled the
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
1 5 8 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
vestry settees with rows of pretty faces might be Cffli-.
siderably weakened by the absence of that other row
on the fence.
Bradley joined the fence brigade and was hailed by
half a dozen acquaintances, mostly old school-fellows.
■He heard all the news, and a lot more that might be-
come news if it ever happened.
"Sam Hammond was down last month," so
"Hart" Sears informed him. "Talk about dudes!
Say, Snuppy, wan't he a lulla-cooler ?"
"I should smile If he wan't," replied "Snuppy"
Black. "Gold watch — and clothes 1 You never saw
such clothes! Sam's working for the Metropolitan
Wrecking Company, and he must be getting rich.
And he has a good time in New York. 'Member
those yarns about the girls, Hart?"
Scars laughed and winked knowingly. "Sam's a
great feller for girls," he observed. "He was chas-
in' 'em down here, I tell you. Gus Baker was the one
he chased most, but Gus can keep him guessln' ; he
ain't the only one that's been runnin' after her — hey,
Snup ?" Then the whole row laughed uproariously.
Bradley, somehow, didn't enjoy the rest of the con-
versation. In the first place, he didn't relish the idea,
'so suddenly brought home to him, that "fellers" were
running after Gus, and particularly he didn't care to
have Sam Hammond among the runners. He had
met Sam once or twice in New York ; a big; chao he
was, handsome and well dressed, In a rather loud
fashion, and with a boastful knowledge of life about
town, Bradley was not a prig, but saloons and after-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
HOME AGAIN 159
theatre suppers had little attraction for him, even if
his salary had been large enough to pay the bills. He
had wondered, idly, how Sam could afford the "fun"
he was always describing.
As for Gus, Bradley's feeling for her was not in
the least sentimental, but now there was a new and
odd sensation of jealousy. Evidently she was consid-
ered attractive by others, and it seemed that he was
not the only young man who had a share tn her
thoughts. She had not written him about Hammond,
and he didn't like that.
The melodcon in the vestry struck up "God be with
you till me meet again," and the loungers on the fence
began to move over toward the door. He went with
them, standing a little way back from the entrance.
The final verse of the hymn died away in deaf Mrs.
Piper's tremulous falsetto. Then there was a hush
as the benediction was pronounced, the door swung
open, and, with giggles and a rustle of ctmversation,
the worshippers began to emerge.
The young ladies were delightfully unconscious
that any one was waiting for them. They were so
surprised when the right man, smiling bashfully,
stepped forward. "Why, hello 1 Are you here? Yes;
I s'pose so. Good night, Emmie. Don't forget what
I told you." And the couple— the "beau" with a
tight grip on his sweetheart's arm just above the
elbow — disappeared around the corner.
Bradley looked for Gus, and at last he saw her.
She was talking to Mr. Langworthy, and the light
from the bracket lamp in the entry shone upon her
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i6o PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
face. Again he decided, just as he had when he left
her before going to sea, that she was pretty, but now
he realized that hers was not a doll-like prcttiness, but
that there was character in her dark eyes and the ex-
pression of her mouth. It seemed to him, loo, that she
was well dressed, and Bradley had not been accus-
tomed to notice the dress of his female acquaintances.
Not that Gus wore anything rich or costly, but her hat
wasn't purple and yellow, like Gcorgiana Bailey's,
and whatever she had on seemed to be the right thing.
It was not to be wondered at, so he thought, that Sam
Hammond and the rest ran after her, and again he
felt that odd, uneasy jealousy.
She came out and stood on the step, buttoning her
glove. Two of the young fellows stepped out of the
line toward her. She spoke to both of them and
laughed. Then she caught sight of Bradley, who also
had moved into the lamplight, and, brushing past the
rival pair of volunteer escorts, she held out her hand.
"Why, Bradl" she exclaimed. "Where on earth
did you come from? I'm ever so glad to see you.
How do you do?"
Bradley shook hands and said, "How do you do?"
There was no earthly reason why he should be embar-
rassed, but he was, just a little. He stammered, and
then asked if he might have the pleasure of "seeing
her home."
Gus laughed — a jolly, unaffected laugh.
"Why, of course you may," she said. "That's what
you came here for, isn't it? I hope so, at any rate."
Bradley laughed too, and admitted that he guessed
, D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
HOME AGAIN i6i
that was about it. Gus took his arm, and they
moved down the path and down the rough stone steps
to the sidewalk. The two young fellows who had
been so unceremoniously slighted gazed after them
blankly for a moment, and then turned to see if there
were any more ellgibles left.
"Why, I haven't seen you for an age," said Gus.
"And you haven't written for nearly three weeks.
Why did you come home now ? You didn't expect to
come home so soon, did you ?"
Bradley explained why he had come home. Cap-
tain Titcomb had left the Thomas Doane, he said,
and he had left with him. He didn't tell the real rea-
son for the leaving, but hinted at dissatisfaction with
the owners. To head off further questions on this
ticklish subject he asked Gus what she had been doing
that winter.
"Well," she said, "I graduated from high school,
for one thing, and I'm keeping house for grandma. I
guess that's about all."
"What's been going on in town? Any dances?"
"Yes; a few. I went to the Washington's Birth-
day Ball, but it wasn't much fun. Most of the floor
committee were old, married people, and about every
other dance was 'Hull's Victory' or a quadrille.
Round dances, you know, are wicked— especially if
you don't know how to dance them."
"You wrote me you went to that, Sam Ham-
mand's been home, hasn't he?"
"Oh, yes; I went to the ball with him. He's a
'"■ dancer, and we waltzed whenever they played
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i62 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
a waltz tune, no matter whether the rest were busj
with a quadrille or not. I suppose it wasn't very po-
lite, but — oh, dear I a ball is supposed to be a good
time, and I'd rather wash dishes than have my toes
stepped on by Captain Bailey in a contra-dance. Do
you ever see Sam in New York?"
"No; not very often."
"He must be doing splendidly in his business. He
seems to have lots of money, and he tells the most
exciting things about diving and saving things from
wrecks. He's very handsome, too; don't you think
sol"
"I dbn't know ; never noticed."
Gus laughed, apparently at nothing in particular.
"I think," she said, slyly, "that going away must be
a great help to a person's looks. Most of my friends
who have been away have improved very much,"
Bradley glanced at her.
"Shall I say 'Thank you'?" he inquired, drily.
"Why, of course!"
"All right. Much obliged. Staying at home
seems to agree with some people; but I suppose you
didn't know that?"
'Shall I make you a curtsey, or be cross at the sar-
casm? What makes you act so difEeren* to-night?
Why don't you tell me what you are going to do, now
that you've given up your position ?"
"I wasn't sure that you'd be interested. You didn't
ask 1"
"You didn't use to wait to be asked. Of course 1
want to know. Tell me, please."
by Google
HOME AGAIN 163
So Bradley told her of Captain TitctHub's idea con-
cerning the purchase of the Lizzie, and the offer of
partnership in the wrecking business. As he talked,
his growing interest in the plan became more evident,
and he spt^e of it as something already nearly de-
cided upon. "What do you think of it?" he asked,
in conclusion.
"Why, I don't know," replied Gus. "If it all
works out as the Cap'n hopes it will be a fine thing;
but isn't it rather risky ? It means staying at home
here in Orham, where people's ideas get into a rut, it
seems to me. The cities seem so big and to have such
chances for a man. You know yourself, Brad, that
you've improved a lot since you went away,"
"I haven't got a gold watch yet, nor any fine
clothes, and my dancing wouldn't draw a crowd, I
guess."
"Don't be silly. Sam is a good waltzer, and he has
improved in his manners and in other ways. I
shouldn't want you to settle down into nothing but a
'longshoreman. I guess I'm like Miss Tempy — I
hoped you'd be captain of an ocean liner some of
these days."
"Well, I don't mean to cramp myself to 'longshore-
man size, just because I stay in the village. It looks
to me like a chance — a good chance — to be my own
boss and make something of myself. I hoped you'd
see it that way."
"Perhaps I shall, when I get more used to it. Tell
me more, please."
They bad reached the little house, and, leaning on
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i64 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
the gate under the big silver-leaf tree, Bradley again
went over the details of the new plan. Gus was inter-
ested, and asked many questions, but to both of them
the interview was not entirely satisfactory. The old,
boy-and-girl, whole-hearted exchange of confidences
seemed to be lacking. To Bradley, in particular, as
he turned away after saying "Good-night," the con-
sciousness of a difference in his relation with his old-
time "chum" was keen. She was interested in him
and in his hopes and plans, but she bad plans and
hopes of her own now, and perhaps he was not so
much the central figure as he used to be.
He said nothing to the "old maids" about where
he had been, but, although he didn't know it, this was
not necessary. After he had gone to his room, Miss
Tempy whispered :
"Prissy, I peeked under the window shade in the
parlor for as much as five minutes, and he and she was
leanin' over that gate and talkin' away as if there
wasn't anything else in the whole world. Do you
s'pose we ought to say anything?"
"Say anything!" sighed the sister. "What should
we say? Bradley's a man now, and you and me can't
put him to bed without his supper any more."
Next day Bradley called on the Captain. The lat-
ter had seen Caleb Burgess, and the Lizzie could be
bought for a very reasonable sum. Captain Titcomb
was also preparing a long table of figures showing the
cost of what was needed to fit her up. They talked
for over an hour, but Bradley was not yet ready to
decide; he would take his full week, he said.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
HOME AGAIN 165
But by the end of the week his mind was made up ;
he was ready to take the chance that the Captain
offered. He told Gus so, and she agreed that, per-
haps, he was doing right. He told the "old maids,"
and so knocked Miss Tempy's air-castles into smith-
ereens in one tremendous crash. Not that this was an
irretrievable calamity, for she immediately began to
build new ones on a different plan,
"Isn't it splendid I" she exclaimed. "Now he'll be
home all the time, as you might say, and we won't
have to worry when it storms, 'cause we'll know jest
where he is. And when he begins to get rich, we'll
have the bam shingled, and maybe the house can be
painted. I think a cream-yellow with dark green
trimrain's would be nice ; that's the way Cap'n Jona-
dab Wixon is goln' to paint his house. And, oh,
Prissy I perhaps, now that Bradley and he are part-
ners in bus'ness, the Cap'n'Il come here once in a
while, I hope he will; his advice is so valuable."
The partnership articles were signed, Bradley drew
his money from the savings bank, and the Lizzie
changed hands. The next month was a very busy
one, for they were at work on the schooner every day,
refitting and rigging. One noon of the fourth week
the Captain came down to the wharf with a Boston
paper in his hand.
"Brad," he said abruptly — they were alone — "I
b'lieve I never told you the full inside of that last
v'yage of ours. 'Twas this way : When we got into
New York on the trip before the last one, Williams
he sent for me, and nothin' would do but I must go
DiqilizDdbyGoOgIC
i66 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
to dinner w!th him. I thought 'twas queer, for Will^
iams ain't heavin' dinners 'round the way you feed
com to chickens; but when I saw the lay-out that noon
I knew somethin' was up. Talk about your feeds I
Why, Brad, there was oysters, and soup, and lobster
a la poleyvoo — or somethin' like it — and turkey, and
ice cream, and the Lord knows what. I swan I I ex-
pected to see 'em bring on fricasseed bird of paradise
and giraffe steak 'fore they got through. And cham-
pagne t Say, I could have swilled champagne to float
the Thomas Doane and had enough left for a bath
for all hands and the cook. But I kind of shortened
sail on the champagne tack; I wanted my deadlights
clear for what was comln'. Then, when 'twas over,
and we was burnin' dollar bills in the shape of cigars,
your old messmate Williams begins to heave over the
ground bait. Wasn't I sick of bein' skipper of an
undertaker's cart? I was capable of runnin' the fast-
est craft afloat — ^best man they ever had, and so on.
Talk about taffy! He poured it on till I thought I'd
stick to the chair. Then I was to have the new four-
master, only — what should they do with the Doanef
He couldn't sell her for enough to pay the agent's
commission. If she was piled up on the beach, why,
the insurance would
"Well, you see the drift. I smelt bilge before the
pumps had worked five minutes. First, I said 'No,*
flat-footed, jest like your little tin honest man. That
was the first day. But that was only the beginnin'.
He kept at it all the time. There was no chance of
losin' a life ; 'twas what was done fifty times a year.
by Google
HOME AGAIN 167
See what was comin' to me. More mcmey? Why,
sure. And the new schooner, best in the bus'ness.
He'd always swore by me. His brother that's dead
used to say Cap'n Titcomb would stick to owners'
orders, if he was told to jump overboard. They'd
treated me better than any skipper they ever had, and
now, the first time I was asked to really do somethin*
to help the firm, I went back on 'em.
"Never mind the rest. Fln'Uy they got me to say
that maybe I'd do it. And I hated myself every min-
ute afterwards. But, you see, I'd always been used to
takin' risks, liked to take 'em, and I ain't got your
saintly disposition, my son. Well, let it go at that.
This in the paper is what started me talkln' about It
to-day, and I tell you honest, it wan't surprise enough
to give me a shock of palsy."
Bradley took the paper and saw on the page indi-
cated the words, "Wreck on the Long Island Sand
Bars. The Schooner Thomas Doane Lost. AH
Hands Saved." He glanced over the article, which
briefly stated that the three-masted schooner Thomas
Doane, Burke master, had struck on the shoals of[
Long Island and would be a total loss. The crew,
after trying in vain to save the vessel, had taken to
the boats and reached shore in safety.
"I didn't believe they'd dare do it I" exclaimed
Bradley. "We know, and they know we know."
"Who'll tell?" asked the Captain, shortly. "Not
me, for I was in it as bad as the rest. Not you, for
they know you and me were thicker'n flies on a molas-
ses stopper. No; 'twas 'Good-bye, Susan Jane,' se
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
1 68 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
far as the old Doane was concerned, and I've been
expectin' It. Well, I wasn't at the funeral, so let's
forgtt it."
And apparently Captain 'Htcomb did forget it; a
good many months were to pass before Bradley was
again to hear his f rioid mention that subject.
by Google
,..r-^.*ifc-
CHAPTER IX
WRECKING AND WALTZING.
IT was a May morning off Setuckit Point The
Point itself was in the middle distance, with the
lighthouse top shining black against the sky, and
the little cluster of fishing shanties showing brown
amid the white sand dunes and green beach grass.
The life-saving station was perched on the highest of
the dunes and its cupola was almost as conspicuous as
the lighthouse. The thick cloud, apparently of mos-
quitoes, hovering over the Point, was, in reality, the
flock of mackerel gulls that are always hunting for
sand eels on the flat. Low down across the horizon
miles beyond was smeared the blue and yellow streak
that marked the mainland of the Cape,
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1 70 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
To the right, only a half mile away, but through
the darker water that indicated the ship channel, a
four-masted schooner was moving swiftly, the sun-
shine flashing sparks from her cabin windows and
marking high lights and shadows on her swelling can-
vas. Ahead of her, against the sky line, was the
light-ship that marked the turning point in the course ;
behind, not quite so far away, was the other light-
ship that she had just passed. More schocmers were
following her, strung out in a Icmg line, and others,
bound in the opposite direction, were standing
inshore or heading out to sea as they beat up
in the face of the brisk wind. An occasional
steamer or an ocean tug with a tow flaunted a
dingy streamer of smoke here and there amid the
graceful schooners.
Along the edge of the channel, and sprinkled amid
the blue, were patches of light green water where the
waves ran higher and broke occasionally. There
were the shoals, the "Razorback," the "Boneyard,"
and the rest. If it were possible, and fashionable, to
erect tombstones for lives lost at sea, these hidden
sandbars would bristle with them. Not a winter
month that passes but vessels are driven ashore here,
and the wicked tides and winds scatter their timbers
far and wide. The Setuckit life-saving crew have few
restful hours from October to May.
On the edge of one of these shoals, just over in
deep water, a little schooner lay at anchor, rocking
and plunging incessantly. Her sails were down ind
only one man was aboard. Half a mile away, iitst
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
fr RECKING AND WAh TZING 17 1
where the tati of the shoal made out into the channel,
two dories were moving slowly In parallel courses,
trailing a rope between them. The schocmer was the '■
Lizzie, the man aboard her was Barney Small, once a
stage driver, but now, forced out of business by the
new railroad, back again at hts old trade — wrecking.
Captain Ezra Tltcomb was rowing one dory and
Bradley Nlckerson the other. They were "anchor
dragging."
When the gales begin in the fall, Setuckit Point,
lying as it does at the edge of the fairway between
Boston and New York, is sometimes a natural break-
water and forced anchorage for the coasting vessels. ■
Perhaps the skipper of a large three or four-masted
schooner, caught just at night by a heavy sea and a
rising gale, doesn't relish the idea of passing through
the shoals and over the dangerous "rips" beyond. He
determines to anchor in the lee of the Point and wait
for daylight or to ride out the gale. The sandy bot-
tom Is bad holding ground for anchors. By and by
the wind and the roaring tide get their grip on the
schooner and the skipper sees that she is slowly but
surely being forced on the shoals. Perhaps he tries
to haul the anchor inboard again; perhaps time Is too
short to risk in the attempt, and the chain is let go
entirely. At any rate, a big anchor, with fathoms of
heavy chain, is left fast in the sand, and the schooner
— ^well, if she Is lucky, she makes an ofBng or iinds
better holding ground at another place.
Big anchors and chains are worth money, and it
may be that the skipper writes to a wrecking company
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
172 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
telling where the anchor may be found and what he
will pay for the recovery. Or, just as likely, he says
nothing about it, and then "findings are keepings,"
and the wrecker who dredges up the anchor makes
whatever he can sell it for at Vineyard Haven or Bos-
ton. Anchor dragging lills in time between salvage
jobs and it pays.
Bradley and the Captain were anchor dragging
merely on speculaition this time. There had been a
dozen wrecks off the Point the previous winter and a
number of anchors lost beside. They had already
picked up two — one by the Boneyard shoal and erne, a
big fellow, away out on the rips.
The two dories moved slowly down the edge of
the shoal, separated by a distance of perhaps a hun-
dred yards. The line between them, weighted with a
lead sinker at each end, was dragging along the bot-
torn.
"Fisherman's luck," shouted Captain Ezra from
his dory. "Queer we ain't found It yit, Brad. We're
right on the range Eldredge gave me — the P'int
Lighthouse and the pole on Black's shanty, in line to
the no'theast, and the Hamissport steeple and
Thompson's windmill to the no'th. I suspicion that
we're too nigh inshore. Never mind; we'll keep <hi
for a little ways further."
They were dragging for an anchor lost by the
coasting schooner Mary D. a month before. She had
been caught by the tide and the chain had been let go
with a run. One of the hands aboard — Eldredge by
name — was an Orham man, and he it was who had
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fTRECKING AND fVALTZING 173
had the presence of mind to take the "ranges" men-
tioned by the Captain, which information he had sold
to his fellow-townsmen for a five dollar bill.
Bradley and the Captain began rowing once more.
They had gone but a little way when, slowly but
surely, the dories began to draw nearer to each other.
Bradley, looking over the side, saw that the "drag
Jine" no longer hung straight down, but, tightly
stretched by whatever was holding it on the bottonit
led off diagonally astern.
"Got a bite I" he shouted.
"Yup," replied the Captain, shortly.
They kept on rowing easily, and in a few minutes
the pressure on the line had brought the dories side
by side. Then Bradley passed his end of the rope to
his partner, who began hauling in with care. By this
operation the skipper's dory was soon brought direct-
ly over the spot where lay the hidden object, Bradley
rowed his own boat alongside.
"Now, then," said Captain Titcomb; "let's see if
she's got the right complexion."
He leaned over the side, and, taking one end of the
line in each hand, pulled them tight and sawed vigor-
ously back and forth, thus drawing a section of the
rope again and again under the treasure-trove below.
Then he paid out one end of the line and hauled in
the other until this section came to the surface ; it was
marked with a dull red stain — iron rust. ■
"And that's all right so" fur," commented the Cap-
tain. "She's a lady of color, anyhow. Looks to me
as if that bread on the waters that I cast, in the shape
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
1 74 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
of a fiver, to Brother Eldredge, had brought forth
fruit in due season; hey, Brad? Pass me that way
line."
The smaller end of the "way line," a stout rope
tapering from one inch to three inches in thickness,
was spliced to the "drag line," and drawn down and
under the supposed anchor until the latter was looped
by it. Then the "messenger," an iron shackle or col-
lar fastened by a bolt or pin, was clamped about the
upper parts of the lo<^. To this "messenger" was
also attached a small cord.
"Now then. Brad," said the Captain, "we'll put <hi
her necktie."
The '"way line" was drawn tight and the heavy
"messenger" plunged out of sight beneath the water.
It slid down to the end of the "way line," thus hold-
ing with a tenacious grip the submerged object. They
tested with the "messenger," pulling it up with the
cord and letting it drc^ again. It struck solidly and
with the tingle of metal against metal.
" 'Sartinly feels promisin', as the boy said when he
crept down in the dark the night afore Christmas to
paw over his stockin'. Better bring up the schocmeft
Brad."
Bradley pulled down to the Lizzie. Barney and he
hoisted canvas enough to give them steerage way and
the little vessel ran alongside of the Captain's dory.
Then the ropes were rigged through the block in the
forerigging, and Bradley and Barney fitted in the
brakes of the clumsy hand-windless, while Captain
Titcomb stood by the bulwark.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
fFRECKING AND WALTZING i-js
"H'ist away I" cwnmanded the skipper.
The windlass creaked, the cable tightened and the
blocks groaned as a heavy weight was lifted from the
bottcHn. A minute or two more, and the Captain
signalled to ease up.
"Brad," he said, "come here a minute. This ain't
any anchor."
Barney held the windlass brake while Bradley
moved, to the rail.
"Look at that," said Captain Ezra, pnnting.
Through the green water the "messenger" showed
dimly, holding in its grip the upper part of a three-
cornered iron frame, as unlike an anchor as anything
could be.
"What on earth " began Bradley. The Cap
tain grinned.
"Never saw anything like that afore, hey? Well,
I cal'late I have. What do you say to a bell-buoy
frame?"
"Why, sure I" Bradley's tone was a disgusted one.
*'No wonder we thought it was an anchor. Got adrift
and smashed up by the ice somewhere. Well, we've
had our work for nothing. Shall we cast ofi?"
"Not yet, son. You and Barney heave a little more
elbow grease Into that windlass. Might as well shake
hands with the critter, now we've got him nigh
enough to see his face."
"But that framework isn't worth anything."
" 'Tain't the stockin' that counts always; It's what
Santa Claus puts inside of it. I have a notion this
feller may be a s'prise package. H'lst away 1"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
176 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
More of the wet rope came aboard. Captain Ezra
chuckled.
"I guessed pretty nigh that time," he muttered.
"Now, Brad, come here."
The iron frame, green with seaweed and trimmed
with kelp and shells, hung half out of the water. At
its base, just above the battered and crushed cone that
had been the buoy, a big bronze bell glistened and
dripped.
"And 1 can git twenty-five dollars for that bell,"
crowed the Captain. "Which, in the present state of
this corporation's finances, mustn't be considered a
widow's mite. Well, this ain't what I was after, but
it's ntMie the less welcome, as the cat said when it
found the mouse swimmin' in the milk pail. Swing
her in, Barney I Now we'll go back and have another
try for the Alary D.'s anchor."
The bell-buoy was not the only surprise that old
ocean gave them, although it was the only one in
which there was any money. Once they dragged to
the surface the rusted remnant of a galley stove, and
once, when the "drag line" was hauled in, at the end
of an unsuccessful day's work, wrapped about it was
the torn and draggled remnant of a woman's aprcMi,
and tangled In that a child's toy — a little railway car.
This last happened in the Sound off Nantucket.
Captain Titcomb carefully disentangled the odd
find from the line,
"Humph!" he mused, balancing the battered play-
thing in his hand. "Somebody's wife and baby was
aboard the vessel that those came from. I don't re-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
WRECKING AND WALTZING 177
member a wreck of that kind nigh here of late years.
But the tide carries things a long ways, and these
might hare been rolled along the bottom for miles, or
they might have been carried here on a piece of drift.
And then again, it might be one of those wrecks you
never hear off: black night, gale blowin', snow so
thick you can scarcely see the jibboom, and there's a
smash and a tramp steamer backs ofi with her nose
busted, not knowin' what she hit. And then in a little
while there's a piece in the paper sayin' that the
schooner So and So is missin' ; ain't been heard of for
two or three weeks; it's feared she must have foun-
dered in the big gale of January tenth. Skipper had
his wife and children with him, and so forth. Brad,
God moves in a curious way His wonders to perform,
don't He? Maybe it's jest as well you and me don't
know the real story of these things. Stwnetimes I
think there ought to be a law against sailors gittin'
married."
7'hey had some long talks together concerning
their new venture, which, up to date, although they
had made some money, had not given them the (^por-
tunity for a "falg job" that they hoped for.
"Brad," observed the Captain, as they were walk-
ing up from the wharf one evening, "are you gittin'
discouraged?"
"No, not yet. I didn't expect anything different
this first summer."
"Well, I jest asked. You see, there's a barrel of
folks in this town who are sayin' that I'm a fool to
think that I can make money out of a trade that other
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
178 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
foHcs have barely kept body and soul together in.
And they're aa^n', too, that you're a bigger fool for
goin' in with me. I s'pose you've heard that as much
as once from some of these kind souls, haven't you ?"
Bradley laughed. "Well," he answered, "I listen-
ed to a long sermon from that text the other night at
the postoffice."
"Humph 1 Henry Simmons occupied the pulpit in
response to a unanimous call frc»n himself, I s'pose ?"
"How did you know?"
"Oh ! I jest put two and two together, like the
woman that made some stockin's for herself out of a
couple of pair that betcnged to her little girl. I saw
Henry headin* over in your direction that night, and
I know his advice pumps are always workin'. Henry's
what you might call a quitter. The only time be ever
stuck to anything was when he set down on the fly
paper. He was a sailor for three v'yages and then
gave it up 'cause he hadn't been made skipper. Then
he raised hens, but got discouraged 'cause the roosters
wouldn't lay — some such reason, anyhow. He's done
a little of 'most everything sence, but he's given 'em
up one after the other; the only trade he ain't peeked
in at is the one he was cut out for — that's roostin' c»i
tc^ of the church steeple for a weather vane. Conse-
quently he knows from experience that it's time to
g^ve up afore you begin. He always said 'twas a
crazy thing to do, this wreckin', didn't he?"
"Always."
"Well, when I first made the deal for the Lizzie
Tith Caleb, Simmons come 'round to me, bavin' htard
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
WRECKING AND ffALTZING 179
of it, and breathed into my ear, in confidence, that
he'd been thinkin' of doin' the same thing himself;
knew for sure that there was money in it."
"You don't mean it?"
"If I didn't I wouldn't say it. And Henry's not
the only oae — though he's the prize-winner in his par-
tic'Iar class. There's lots of folks in Orham that
think because a thing's been done afore by somebody
else, who didn't know how to do it, that another man
who tries it is a fool. A pullet can lay eggs, but she
can't sing for a cent, whereas a canary bird makes a
pretty good shy at it, I went into the wrcckin' busi-
ness with my eyes open, and I knew 'twould be hard
sleddin' first along. But I tried to make that clear to
you, didn't I ?"
"Look here, Cap'n Ez, if you think I'm afraid be-
cause we haven't struck on yet, then "
"I ain't afraid of you, Brad. I jest wanted to
boost up my own spunk a litde, I guess. Give you
and me a year or so to git our nets out, so to speak,
and a grain or two of luck for seas'nin', and we'll
make this village man the yards when we come into
port; see if we don't. What do the old maids say?"
"Oh I they believe I'm going to get rich, of course."
"Of course. Well, maybe they ain't any further
out in their reck'nin' one way than Simmons and the
rest are the other. What does that little Baker girl
have to say about it?"
Bradley looked at his friend In surprise. "What?"
he asked.
"Yes," said the Captain.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
i8o PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"Oh 1 welJ, she didn't quite like it at first, but the
more we talk about it together the better the plan
seems to her."
"I presume likely you and she talk about it a good
deal?" There wasn't the slightest flavor of sarcasm
apparent in this question, so Bradley admitted that he
and Gus did have a good many talks on the subject.
And this statement wasn't an exaggeration. It had
become a regular thing for the junior partner in the
anchor-dragging concern to drop in at the Baker
homestead of an evening after supper was over and
discuss happenings and plans with Gus. The feeling
that the girl was not so wholly at one with him in his
hopes and ambitions as she used to be had galled
Bradley. He resented her criticisms of the new ven-
ture on the evening when he first told her of it. Five
years before, he knew, she would have thought it
"splendid" simply because he thought so. He had
come home expecting to find her unchanged — forget-
ting how much he had changed, himself — and now he
determined that he would compel her to believe in him
and his work. So he called evening after evening,
and, in a measure, succeeded in his object ; that is, Gus
became more and more interested and willing to listen
while he explained his and the Captain's ideas, and
what they might develop into. But she no longer said
yes merely because he said it. She also had, and
Bradley recognized it, a subtle way of changing the
subject to one of her own choosing when she wished
to do so, and she could tease him or please him in spite
of himself. But these new features of her character
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fTRECKING AND fTALTZING i8i
were rather fascinating than otherwise, so he came to
think. She was decidedly Independent and had a
very original way of looking at things. They
agreed on some matters and agreed to disagree on
others.
Dancing was one of the subjects on which they
didn't agree. Bradley considered dancing nonsensical
and a waste of time. Gus, on the other hand, was
very fond of it.
"I'd rather saw wood myself," declared the former
one evening. "There'd be about as much work In it,
and considerably more fun. If you want to see how
ridiculous people look when they dance, put your fin-
gers in your ears so as to shut out the music, and then
watch 'em."
"Yes," replied Gus, "but there's no reason why you
should put your fingers in your ears. Brad, for good-
ness' sake, don't be an old man before you've hardly
begun to be a young one I That's my one fear for
you — that you'll grow to be as sober as an old cow,
and as sour as — as — well, as those apple puffs I made
yesterday and forgot to put the sugar into. You want
to sugar your work with a little fun."
"I like fun. I can enjoy a good play at the theatre,
though it's mighty seldom I get the chance, and I'd
rather play baseball than eat, even now."
"Well, the only plays that come to Orham are
'Ten Nights in a Barrown,' or 'Uncle Tom,' and I'm
afraid Tm too old to play baseball without causing a
sensation; not that I wouldn't like to," she added,
mischievously. "But, Brad, I do like dancing, and
DiqilizDdbyGoOgIC
i82 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
there are dances here <Hice in a while, such as they are,
and — ^well, 1 wish you danced."
"I suppose I could manage to navigate through a
quadrille without wrecking more than half the set,
but a waltz would have me out of soundings in no
time."
"Will you try to learn if I teach you ?"
"Think 'twill pay for the wear and tear on your
nerves — and the furniture?"
"I'll risk the nerves, and we need iotne new furni-
ture, anyway. "Come ; we'll begin now. I'll hum the
tune, and you can imagine that Bennie D.'s three-piece
orchestra is playing 'Annie Rooney,' with their own
variations, and that you're waltzing with — ^wcll, with
Georgiana Bailey."
"Great Scott 1 let's imagine something pleasant to
begin on. All right ; here goes 1 Get out of the chan-
nel, Winfield."
That first lesson was certainly fun; even Bradley
admitted that, although he insisted that his perspiring
condition was proof positive of the work there was in
dancing. They laughed so hard and made so much
noise, assisted by the energetic Winfield, that old
Mrs. Baker came downstairs, wrapped in a blanket,
to put her head in at the sitting-room door and ask if
the house was afire. But Gus said that her partner
had done well for a bef^nner.
The, "Baker Private Dancing Academy,*' as Gus
Mfled it, held frequent sessions during the next fort-
Qi^Kt. It was Bradley's private belief that he should
never be a good waltzer, and he was perfectly certain
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
WRECKING AND WAL TZING 1 83
that the lack of that accomplishment wasn't going to
worry him, but he stuck to the "lessons," because
they pleased Gus, and because he had said he
would.
One evening toward the end of the mcnth Gus said
to him : "Brad, if you were I, would you go to the
Decoration Day Ball?"
She was, apparently, loc^ng as she spt^e at the
front page of the Cape Cod Item, which lay on the
table, and she did not turn her head. Bradley was
puzzled.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"If you were I would you go to the ball on the
evening of Dccorati<«i Day at the Town Hall? I've
had two invitations."
"Humph I" The answer was somewhat hesitating.
"I suppose I should do what I wanted to. It would
be too bad to disappoint so many when you're so
greatly in demand."
"And I think that was rather spiteful. Are you
going to the ball?"
"To tell you the truth I didn't know there was
going to be one. I've been so busy."
"I supposed you didn't know. Otherwise, of
"I should have invited my dancing teacher to go
with me. Gus, would you have liked it if I had in-
vited you?"
"I should."
"Well, I wish I had then."
"Why don't you now?"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
1 84 P^R TNERS OF THE TIDE
"Isn't it too tate? Those other invitaticms, you
know."
"I haven't answered them yet."
"Well, then, Miss Baker, may I have the pleasure
of escorting you to the grand fandango to be held in
the Orham Crystal Palace, under the supervision of
His Royal Swellcdness, Mr. Solomon Bangs?"
"You may, sir. Oh, Bradl of course I'd rather go
with you, because '*
"Because what?"
"Because I want to see how my pupil locJts dancing
with somebody else."
Miss Prissy and her sister had been brought up to
consider dancing as one of the baits thrown out by the
Evil One to lure young people to destruction. So,
when Bradley announced his intention of going to the
ball. Miss Tempy was just a little troubled.
"You diHi't s'pose he's gittin' — ^well, fast, do you,
Prissy ?" she asked.
"Land, no I" was the decided answer. "If he don't
do anything wickeder than to hc^ 'round the Town
Hall to music, I guess he'll be safe."
"But father never let us dance when we were
girls."
"I know it, but folks look at those things different
nowadays. I wish you'd starch and iron that white
necktie of his, Tempy. We want him to look as good
as the next one, bein' he's an Allen."
So Miss Tempy remembered that Lord Eric and
all the rest of her book heroes danced, and she starch-
ed and ironed the tie till it was a spotless, crackling
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
WRECKING AND WALTZING 185
band. And when Bradley came downstairs on the
evening of Memorial Day, dressed in his new black
suit, she was so proud of him that she fairly bubbled
over.
"I'm do look handsome!" she exclaimed. "You're
more like father every day. Here, let me fix your'
handkerchief so*s 'twill show at the top of your
pocket. There, now ain't he splendid, Prissy?"
"Handsome is that handsome does," was the prac-
tical answer. "Be a good boy. Brad, and d<Mi't do
anything we wouldn't like."
Gus was prettier than ever that Dight. She was
dressed simply in white, but when she came out of the
dressing-room at the hall and took his arm, Bradley
noticed that the eyes of half a dozen young men fol-
lowed her, and that they whispered to each other.
Mr. Solommi Bangs was floor-master, and he came
bustling up to them.
"We're jest goin' to start the Grand March," he
informed them. "Take your partners and git right in
line, please. Augusty, may I see your order? Thank
you. I'll take the Portland Fancy, if you're willin'.
Yes, yes, Obedl I'm comin'I Land of goodness I
seems 's tf I couldn't git a minute's peace. I don't
know what they'd do if I wasn't here."
He hurried away to lead the march with Georgians
Batley, and Bradley took his partner's "order" and
wrote his initials against two quadrilles, the "Virginia
Reel" and one waltz. "Round dances" were few, for
most of the dancers were middle-aged married peo-
ple, who had danced reels and contra-dances when
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
i86 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
they were young, and didn't intend to learn new steps
at their time of life.
"Bennie D.," his hair pasted artistically down on
his forehead with a "spit curl" over each temple,
stepped to the centre of the platform, tucked a hand-
kerchief under his chin, set his vit^in against it, flour-
ished his bow, patted his feet and swung into the tune
for the Grand March, with the piano and 'cello limp-
ing behind him.
Mr. Bangs, his chest well out, his floor-master's
badge very much in evidence and his importance even
more so, gave his arm to Miss Bailey, got into step —
after two or three false starts — and led off, while
couple after couple followed him. Up and down the
hall they paraded, going through one evolution after
the other. Captain Jabez Bailey, who "didn't dance
none to speak of," but was there because his wife and
daughter had ordered him to be, distinguished him-
self by tripping at the first turn and carrying his better
half down with him. It was an emphatic tumble, for
Mrs. Bailey was what her husband called "pretty sort
of fleshy," and the chimneys in the chandeliers rattled
when she struck the floor. Georgiana, from the head
of the line, glared at her unfortunate parent, and,
during the rest of the march, poor Captain Jabez
plodded on in nervous agony, while his wife poured
into his car her opinion of his "makin' such a show ot
'em and mortlfyin' her 'most to death."
Gus* "order" was filled in a few minutes after the
first number was over; there were more applicants
than dances. Bradley danced a quadrille with Clara
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WRECKING AND WAL TUNG 1 87
Hc^kins, who was pretty and jolly, and he enjoyed it
thoroughly. He labored through a contra-dance with
Georgiana and didn't enjoy it as much, although that
effervescent young lady purred that she had had a
"perfectly lovely time," and he was "lookin' so well,"
and why didn't he call at the house.
Miss Bailey's blue silk gown had an imposing, and
very troublesome, train and she smelt like a per-
fumer's shop.
During one of the infrequent "round dances,"
Bradley wandered to the smoking-room at the head
of the stairs. "Hart" Sears and "Snuppy" Black
were there, tt^cther with some fellows frcmi Hamiss
and Ostable. They were discussing, with great relish,
the various young women present, and the conversa-
tion might have been interesting if one cared for that
sort of thing. But Bradley didn't, and he was about
to return to the ball room, when, to his great sur-
prise, Captain Titcomb came up the stairs. He had a
dripping umbrella in his hand.
"Why, hello !" exclaimed Bradley. "I didn't know
you were coming."
"Hello, yourself I" retorted the Captain. "I didn't
know you was comin' cither, so we're square on that
hitch. It's blowin' up a reg'lar snorter outside," he
added. "You'd think 'twas the middle of November.
Bring an umbrella? That's good; you'll need it.
Hold on a second till I check my duds."
When he returned from the coat window they
stood in the doorway looking at the dancers.
"Sol. Bangs talked me into buyin' a ticket," re*
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i88 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
marked the Captain, "and 'twas kind of dull at the
boardin'-house, so I thought I'd run up for a spell.
Who's here? Gusty Baker looks nice, don't she?
I s'pose you was convoy to that craft, hey?"
Bradley reddened and admitted that he had acted
in that capacity.
"Georgiana's gayer'n a tin peddler's cart, ain't
she?" continued his partner. "Cap'n Jabc's the only
moultin' pullet in that coop."
He broke off suddenly and was silent for a min-
ute or more. Bradley asked him what the matter
was.
"Oh, nothinM" was the hasty reply. "Quite a
crowd here to-night. Who's the little dipper in the
white with blue pennants in her fore-riggin' ? The
one dancin' with Jonadab Wixon's sister's boy?"
"That's Clara Hopkins. She's grown to be a pretty
girl, hasn't she?"
"Humph I You don't say I Jim Hopkins' girl. I
wouldn't have known her." And the Captain sub-
sided once more.
A little while after that, as Bradley was dancing
his "Virginia Reel" with Gus, he noticed a disturb-
ance among the crowd of watchers at the door. He
was in the middle of the line at the time, and "Snup-
py" Black stood next to him.
"Hello!" exclaimed "Snuppy." "Why, it can't
be I By thunder, it is I Sam Hammond's come. I
didn't know he was expected."
Hammond It was, and in all the glory of city
clothes and unlimited self-conlidence. When the reel
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
WRECKING AND fVAL TZING 1 89
»pas over, he came across the floor to where Gus and
Bradley were standing.
"How d'ye do, Gus?" he said, extending his hand;
"I'm down for a few days. Got a vacation that I
wasn't looking for. Came on to-night's train and
thought I'd run up here for a little while, soon as I
could get away from the home folks. I^t me see
your order. Hello, Brad I How are you ?"
He was welUdressed, still in the rather ccmspicuouft
way, and he had an easy, masterful air about him
that none of the country fellows had, though they all
envied it. And he was good-lotting; that couldn't
be denied.
"My order is filled," said Gus, showing him the
card.
"Never mind; somebody'll have to give up; that's
all. Brad, will you give me this waltz of yours ? It's
the next number."
"Can't spare it," replied Bradley, shortly.
"Then I'll have Hart's schottische. I'll make it all
right with him." And he pencilled his own initials
over those of Sears. Gus didn't seriously object.
"He's a tine dancer," she said, as she and Bradley
rose for the waltz. "I shall enjoy that schottische,
and I should have had a horrid time with Hartwell
Sears. Now, Brad, let's see how you remember your
lessons."
The last dance was the lanciers, but as "Bennie
D." arose to "call off," he announced that there would
be, by special request, an "extra" — a waltz. Bradley
had seen Hammond talking with the prompter and
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190 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
with Mr. Bangs, and he knew whose the "special re-
quest" was. Under other circumstances he wouldn't
have cared so much for that waltz, but now he want-
ed it very much indeed.
He walked over to where Gus, flushed and laugh-
ing, stood talking with Black, her partner in the lan-
ciers. Just as he reached her side Sam came hurrying
up and pushed in front of him without ceremony.
"Gus," said Hammond, "I made Ben give us this
waltz on purpose so that we might have it together.
You haven't been half generous to me to-night, and
now I'm after my pay. Come 1"
He offered his arm, and for a moment the girl
seemed about to take it. Then she lotted at Brad-
ley, who, disappointed and chagrined, stood silent in
the background.
"Thank you very much, Sam," she said; "but this
waltz belongs to Bradley. Come, Brad, the music is
beginning,"
If any one had told Bradley previously that he
would thoroughly enjoy a waltz, he would have
laughed. But he enjoyed every moment of this one.
He saw Sam's scowl as Gus stepped past him, saw the
smile on the faces of Black and the other bystanders,
and then they whirled away. Round and round and
round. "Bennie D.'s" music wasn't the best in the
world, but to Bradley just then no grand opera or-
chestra could have played more sweetly. His feet
seemed almost as light as his partner's, and they kept
perfect time.
It was over all too soon.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
WRECKING AND WALTZING 191
"Oht" exclaimed Gus, as the music ceased; "that
was splendid I Brad, don't ever say again that you
can't waltz."
Captain Tttcmnb, with Clara Hopkins on his arm,
passed them, scouring his red face with a handker-
chief.
"Whew I" he panted, "I must be glttin' fat and
lazy. Didn't use to pump me out this way to dance."
Bradley and Gus walked htnne through a stonn
that, as the Captain had said, was much more like a
November gale than the usual summer blow. The
tops of the trees threshed and banged about in the
heavy gusts and the rain came against the umbrella
top like water from a hose. They were pretty wet
when they reached the door.
"I've had ever so nice a time, Brad," said Gus.
"Thank you very much for taking me."
"You're welcome. I've had a good time, too. I
want to thank you for giving mc that last waltz. I
know it meant giving up a good dancer for a poor
one, and 'twas kind of you to do it."
"Oh I you earned that by trying so hard to learn.
Good night."
There was a kettle of "pepper tea" on the back of
the stove in the kitchen, and on the table Bradley
found a note from Miss Tempy, saying that he must
be sure and drink two whole cups of the tea and rub
his chest with Blaisdell's Emulsion before he went to
bed, so as not to catch cold.
He did drink swne of the tea, but we fear the
Emulsion was forgotten entirely. Bradley's brain
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192 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
was filled with thoughts of that waltz, of Sam's dis>
comfiture and of his own triumph. Also there were-
other and new thoughts that kept him awake for some
time. They were of the future, but the wrecking
Susiness had little part in them.
And outside the wind blew and the rain pgured.
by Google
BKIlAKFAST next morning was hardly begun
when "Blount's boy" — his name was Ulysses
Simpson Grant Blount, but no one but his
parents ever called him by it — came to the dining-
room door with a note for Bradley. It was from
Captain Titcomb, and read as follows :
"Dear Brad :
"There's a three-master, loaded with lumber, piled
up on the Boneyard. Come on down quick. Looks
as if here was the chance the Titcomb-Nickerswi
Wrecking Syndicate had been praying for.
"Yours truly,
"E. D. Titcomb.'^
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194 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
The junior partner in the "Syndicate" let Miss
Prissy's clam fritters go by default and hurried dowa
to the Traveler's Rest, where he found the Captain
waiting for him. A few hours later the officers
and crew of the Lizzie were gazing over that
vessel's rail at the tumbling froth that covered
the Boneyard shoal and at the hapless lumber
schooner trembling in its midst, a dismal, lonesome
fight.
She had struck almost bow on, but the strong tide
had swung her stem over until she lay broadside to
the shoal. She had heeled but little and her deck load
of pine boards was, for the most part, still lashed in
place. The main and mizzen masts were gone, but
the lower part of her foremast still stood, and the
great waves, striking against her stem, sent the light
spray flying lengthwise almost as high as its top. The
broken cordage streamed out in the wind, and a
swinging block creaked and whined. On the rail by
the after house they could read her name ; she was the
Ruth Ginn, of Bangor.
"The P'int life savin' crew gcrt the men about one
o'clock this momin'," remarked Captain Titcwnb.
"Skipper tried to anchor to ride out the gale, then got
scared and tried to make an ofSn', got her into irwis
and the tide did the rest. Her masts went jest after
they took off the men. What do you think of her?
Total loss, ain't she ?"
Bradley hesitated. "Well," he said, "I should say
she was, so far as being any use as a schooner is con-
cerned. That lumber, though, is a different matter;
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THE LUMBER SCHOONER 195
the weather would have a good deal to do with that,
I should say."
"The weather's goln' to clear, if I'm any jedge,"
observed his c(»npanion. "What do you -say, Bar-
ney?"
"Looks like fairin' off to me," replied Mr. Small.
"Wind's cantin' round to the west'ard. However, I
ain't no weather prophet. You want to ask Peleg
Myrick if you're after weather news; he seems to
have a special tip from heaven on gales and
calms."
"That's so," mused the skipper. "Peleg does seem
to have a sort of connection that way. Maybe the
angels keep him interested in weather so's they won't
have to listen to him pumpin' the concertina all the
time. That and Skeezicks' howlin' Is enough to make
a ghost grit its teeth. I cal'Iate he's at the P'int by
this time, and we'll hunt him up pretty soon and git a
prophecy from headquarters. But, anyhow," he add-
ed, "I agree with you, Brad, that the schooner's gone
to pot. The lumber might be saved. I'll go fur-
ther'n that, I'll say that we could save a good-sized
chunk of it, wind and weather permittin', if we got
the chance. And I'm goin' to work mighty hard to
git the chance. Let's run up into the cove and go
ashore.**
The Lizzie sailed away f rwn the wreck that, witH
one screaming seagull balancing himself on the
broken foremast, looked more sad and lonely than
ever, and anchored in the little harbor in the lee of
the Point. Two or three catboats were moored there,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
196 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
and among them was one that the Captain recog-
nized.
"Hello I" he exclaimed. "There's Obcd Nicker-
son's boat. I guess that settles it; some part of her's
insured, anyway."
They walked through the soft white sand and
coarse beach grass up to the life-saving staticm. The
lookout, in the observatory on the roof, rapped on
the window of his cage and waved a hand to them as
they reached the plank walk leading to the door.
Inside, seated around the table of the living room,
they found Captain Knowles, commander of the sta-
tion ; Obed Nickerstm, the Orham agent of the under-
writers; the skipper of the Ruth Gtnn and two or
three others. The skipper, a sunburned, gray-haired
man, with a worried look on his lean face, was telling
for Mr. Nickerson's benefit the story of how his ves-
sel came to be in her hc^eless plight. To a landsman
it would have been an interesting yam, but the present
company had heard too many similar experiences to
find anything novel in it.
"So you figure her a total loss, do you, Cap'n?"
asked Mr. Nlckerson, making a few notes in his mem-
orandum book.
"Well, there she is ! You can see for yourself,"
was the answer. "Her sticks gone, and hard and fast
on the Boneyard — if she ain't a total loss, I don't
know what you call her."
"Insured, ts she, Obed?" asked Captain TitoMnb.
"Cargo is; schooner ain't," replied the under-
writers' agent.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE LUMBER SCHOONER 197
Captain Ezra signalled to Bradley, and they went
out on the porch.
"Brad," whispered the Captain, "they can't call
her anything but a total loss. The underwriters'H
pay the insurance on that lumber and then dicker with
somebody to save what they can of it. You and me
want to be that somebody. Hello I here's Pclcgl"
The versatile Mr. Myrick had tramped over from
his hermitage, and now, with Skcezicks shivering at
his heels, was deep in conversation with Barney Small.
"Peleg says we're goin' to have clear weather for
quite a spell," remarked Barney. "Let's see; when
did you say you had the next storm scheduled,
Peleg?"
"Wall," drawled the weather prophet, looking be-
comingly important; "nigh's I can figger, Cap'n Ez,
she'll fair off by afternoon and stay clear for more'n
a fortni't. We ain't due to have another reel genu-
wine blow for more'n a month. / knew last night's
gale was comin'. I told Cap'n Knowles so ; says I, 'I
dcm't care what the Gov'ment folks says, it's goin' to
blow,' says I, 'like time, and them that's afloat want*
to stand by,' I says. Now "
"That's right, Pel^," broke in the Captain. "I'll
back you against the Weather Bureau eight days in
the week and twice on Sunday. How's clams thes<
days?"
"Clams," replied Mr. Myrick, "is scurcer'n all git
out. I don't know why unless 'twas the turrible hard
winter. I was afraid of it last fall. 'Course I knew
the hard winter was conin' and I told folks so. Oh I
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
198 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
that reminds me! What's this I hear 'bout Sain
Hammwid's spendin' more'n four dollars for cigars
last time he was home? Do you cal'late that's so?"
They left Barney to relieve Mr. Myrick's anxiety
concerning the cigars and walked down to the beach..
On the way Captain Titcomb said:
"Brad, we've got to git this lumber job. It's the
kind of job we can do with the Lizzie, and, figgerin'
on a commission basis, it'll give us pretty nigh money
and start enough to warrant our havin' a new
schooner built, one with power and strong enough to
handle the real big things. Wait here by the dory
till Obed cCHiies out; I'm layin' for him."
"Cap'n Ez, do you really take any stock in Peleg's
weather talk?"
"Why, I don't know but I do. Everybody along
this shore does. He hits it right full as often as the
Gov'ment folks, and, in my jedgment, consider'ble
further ahead. I'll give in that it sounds foolish to
think a bow-legged sandpeep with a sprained brain
like Peleg's can know about the Lord Almighty's
gales and such, but sometimes I think that about ha'f
of Peleg's loft was to let, so's to speak, and the
weather jest sort of moved in. Now most people
ain't got more'n a tenth of the space In their noddles
to give to that bus'ness, and so Brother Myrick has
the advantage of 'em."
Bradley laughed. Personally he believed little in
the hermit's value as a prophet, although he knew
that the Captain's faith was shared by almost every-
body in Orham.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE LUMBER SCHOONER 199
"You give up only half of Pelcg's brain to the
weather," he said. "What do you think fills the rest
of it?"
"Clams, other folks' bus'ness and that cverlastin'
concertina," was the quick reply. "That ha'f mast be
as lively as a sailor's dance hall and as full of Bedlam
as the monkey cage in the circus. Here comes Obed.
Now, then I"
Mr. Nickerscm, accwnpanied by one of the village
toys, was on his way to the catboat, but the Captaiff
interfered.
"What in the nation are you goin' home in that
clam shell for, Obed?" he asked. "Come on aboard
the Lizzie with us. Brad and Barney and I will land
you at the wharf afore that cat of yours is out of
shoal water. Let Dan there take your boat home,
and you come with us. I've got a cigar I want you to
take out some 6re insurance on."
So, after some persuasion, the underwriters' agent
consented to make his homeward trip in the schooner.
The cigars were lighted, Barney Small took the wheel
and the Captain, Bradley and Mr. Nickerson made
themselves comfortable in the little cabin. Then the
convcrsatlcHi was judiciously piloted toward wrecks,
and the wreck of the Ruth Ginti In particular. Obed
admitted that the full insurance would undoubtedly
be paid on the cargo, although, of course, the official
"three man survey" must come first. Bradley asked
what would be done after that.
"Oh!" answered the agent; "then I guess I'll send
word to the Boston Salvage Company and make a
L, ,z,;i.,C00gIC
-200 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
deal with them to git out what they can of the Iuni<
ber."
"Yes," observed Captain Titcomb, "and they'll
charge you seventy-five per cent, of the value. What's
the matter with Brad and me doin' it ?"
"Youf What with— this tub?"
"Yup, this tub. If you've got a loose tooth a
string and a door'll snake it out as quick as the dentist
will, and you don't have to pay for silver-plated
pinchers and a gilt name-plate. Come now, tell you
what I'll do: Brad and me'U git that lumber out for
sixty per cent, on what we save."
"How you goin' to do it? You haven't got a tow-
boat, nor even power in your own schooner."
"Don't need *em. You couldn't start that wreck
with a towboat without yankin' the bottom out of
her. The only way to fetch her off the shoals is with
anchors and cables, and you know it. We can do
that as well as any Bostcm comp'ny that ever was.
Give us a chance, Obed. You ought to encourage
home talent, as Bill Samuels said to the school teacher
that found fault with him 'cause he told his boy to
spell cat with a K. What do you say?"
Obed had a good deal to say, and no decision was
reached that forenoon. Next day the survey was
made, and that evening the Captain spent at the hmne
of Mr. Nickerson. It was after eleven o'clock when
he returned to his rocMn at the Traveller's Rest, where
Bradley was waiting.
"Well?" said Bradley, anxiously.
"Well [" exclaimed his partner, tossing his cap on
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE LUMBER SCHOONER aoi
a chair and wiping the perspiration from his hot fore-
head; "well, Brad, I've used up jaw power enough to
pretty nigh work that wreck off, but the job's ours at
fifty per cent, of the value of the lumber we save.
There's nigh on to six thousand dollars' worth aboard
and, if Peleg's forecastin' works haven't got indiges-
tion, we ought to clean up close to every stick of it.
Brad, shake I"
And they shook hands. The opportunity they had
been waiting for was theirs at last.
I'he pa'rtners talked for another hour before they
separated. Three extra hands, at least — so the Cap-
tain figured — would be needed on the Lizzie. Brad-
ley was in favor of hiring more than three, arguing
that every day counted, because one severe storm
would break up the stranded schooner, and, there-
fore, speed in accomplishing the work was the first
consideration. But Captain Titcomb believed that
three was sufficient.
"Peleg says no gale for a month and I'm bettin' on
that weather plant in his skull," he argued. "And,
say ! I b'lieve I'll hire Peleg himself for one. He's
a good worker, and he'll work cheap. I'll git Bill
Taylor for another. He lives at the P'int most of the
year, and he's a wrecker in a ^mall way himself.
You'd better go over to Harniss to-morrer and see if
you can't git one of the Bearse boys. That'll make
the three. Good night, Brad. Keep a stiff upper Up.
We've got the chance; now it's up to us to win the
cup or run her under— one or t'other."
So the next forenoon Bradley took the train to
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
202 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Harntss, where he found Alvin, oldest of the Bearse
"bo^," a gray-headed, leather-faced youngster of
fifty-live, and engaged him for the sum of three dol-
lars a day and his keep. He was to report on board
at half-past seven the following morning. Then,
having accomplished his share of the hiring, the
junior partner returned to Orham to inspect the Liz-
zie with nervous care and to listen to the remarks of
a dozen or more disinterested acquaintances who,
having heard of the contract, had come down to the
wharf to prophesy and ofler advice.
The prophecies were mostly of the Jeremiah
brand. It was the general opinion that the wreck-
ing schooner was too small for the work and that
Captain Titcomb "ought to have known it." Cap-
tain Jabez Bailey summed up professional opinion as
follows:
"It 'pears to me, Brad," he observed, "speakin' as
man to man, t'lat you fellers have bit off more'n you
can chaw. It's what you might expect of Ez Tit-
comb, though. Nobody else would think of buckin'
against the Boston Salvage Company with a two-
masted soup ladle like that, and with no power in her.
All I can say is that, for your sake, Brad, I hope
you'll make a dollar or two, but I'm 'fraid that, as I
said a minute ago, you've bit off more'n you can chaw.
Speakin' of chawin', Bluey, lend me your plug, won't
you? I left mine to home."
After this and similar applications of the cold
water treatment, it was a relief to get back to the big
house on the hill and to receive the enthusiastic cchi-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE LUMBER SCHOONER 203
gratulatiwis of the "old maids." There was no doubt
of success in their minds, and when Miss Busteed
called to leam further particulars and to offer con-
dolences, she got, as Miss Prissy said afterwards, "as
good as she sent."
"Of course," concluded Melissa, after repeating,
■with her own embellishments, all the discouraging re-
marks of the townspeople concerning the lumber con-
tract; "of course, I don't agree with everything that's
said; not by no means, I don't. But folks do talk
about Ez Titcomb ; you Itnow they do, Prissy. Sarah
Emma Gage was sayin' this very momln', says she,
'Melissy,' says she, 'I s'pose Prissy and Tempy know
what they're about, but I'm free to confess I'm glad it
ain't my boy that's in partners with Ez Titcwnb,' says
she."
"Humph 1" snapped Miss Tempy, "I guess she
ain't any gladder than Cap'n Titccnnb is <mi that sub-
ject. If he couldn't git anybody better'n Ben Gage I
cal'late he'd shet up shop I"
"Yes, I know," went on Melissa, "but Sarah
Emma is a great talker. 'Nother thing she said that
was foolish — perfectly foolish — and I told her so.
She brought up how Cap'n Ez used to call here at
your house and how he didn't come no more. Said
'twas a shame. 'But then,' she says, ' 'tain't any
morc'n he's done to ha'f a dozen other women that
he's kept comp'ny with.' "
Both the sisters reddened and Miss Prissy exclaim-
ed, indignantly, "Sarah Emma Gage better mind her
own affairs. She's the wust gossip in town — pretty
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
204 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
nigh the wust, anyway." The ]ast as a delicate sub-
stitute for "present company excepted."
"Oh I of course I laffed at her for sayin' that!"
went on the caller. "I says to her, 'Sarah Emma,'
says I, 'Prissy and Tempy have lived single too long
and are too old to think of gittin' married at their
time of life. That would be too ridic'iousl' I says."
, Miss Tcrapy's sensitive lip trembled a little, but her
sister came serenely to the rescue.
"Yes, we're gittin' old, Melissy," she observed,
sweetly, "that's a fact. I can remember when I was a
little tot in school and you was wearin' long gowns
and puttin' your hair up, how I wished I was as old
as you. And now folks would hardly notice any
diff 'rence between us, fur's looks go. What ? You
must be goin' Oh, don't hurry! Well, let me git
your things. How this bonnet of yours does wear,
Melissy I You've had it much as six seasons, and It's
only when you git close to it that it loolcs the least
mite frayed. Good-by. Call again, won't you ?
There I" as the owner of the highly Battered bonnet
flounced down to the gate, "I guess she can put that
in her pipe and smoke it. Don't feel bad, Tempy.
Melissy Busteed's like a dose of old-fashioned medi-
cine; she always leaves a bad taste behind her."
Bradley called on Gus that evening. He had been
so busy with Captain Titcomb, planning and working
for the new contract, that he had seen her but once,
and then only for a moment, since the night of the
ball. But now, full of hope and the triumph of hav-
ing secured the chance he had longed for, he looked
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
THE LUMBER SCHOONER 205
forward to telling; her the good news znd receiving
her congratulations.
The windows of the Baker "best parlor" were
lighted up — a most unusual occurrence — and he
vaguely wondered if they had "company" and who
it might be.
Gus herself opened the door in response to his
knock.
"Why, hello!" she said. "I wandered if you had
forgotten me entirely, Mr. Contractor, now that you
really are a business man and the talk of the town."
"Then you knew?" he exclaimed in surprise.
"Why, of course I knew! I haven't heard any-
thing else all day. And, to make it certain, Melissa
called on grandmother this afternoon, just after she
had been at your house."
Bradley smiled ruefully. "You must have heard
an encouraging yam from her," he said. "Have you
got company?"
"Oh I only a friend of ours that you know. Come
right into the parlor."
He walked across the threshold of that sacred
apartment to iind Sam Hammond seated in the hair-
cloth rocker and looking very much at home. Neither
of the young men appeared particularly happy at
meeting the other, but, truth to tell, Hammond was
the more self-possessed.
"Hello, Bradl" he said, easily. "I've heard noth-
ing but you and Cap'n Ez since breakfast. I'm glad
for you; it's a nice little job, if you can carry it out."
The contract had seemed anything but a little (xie
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
2o6 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
to Bradley, and this nonchalant way of referring to it-
took him down a bit. Hammond continued in the
same condescending way.
"I don't believe I should know how to handle a job
like that," he observed, "without power or towboats,
or things of that sort. It would be like working with
your hands tied. Our people have everything to do
with, and they'd have that lumber oR in no time. Did
I ever tell you how we raised the Margrave for the
Barclay Line folks, Gus? That was a job there was
stnne fun in 1 She was a big iron steamer that ran on
the ledge at the mouth of Boston harbor and went
down. We got the contract right in the face of the
Salvage Company in their own town."
He went on to tell of the raising of the great
Steamer; how the divers, of which he was one, worked
for days and weeks in the iron hull, building a second
bottom of wood above the splintered keel plates; how,
when this was done, they caulked the wooden bottom,
pumped out the water above it, and floated the vessel
into the dry dock. There were adventures with a
shark that came in through the hole and "went wild"
when it couldn't find the way out; a narrow escape
from death because of a twisted air-pipe, and much
more, all well told.
Gus listened with her eyes shining. Bradley lis-
tened and his own little three thousand dollar contract
shrunk and shrunk until, from a wonder that was to
be accomplished in the face of great odds, it became
a trifle hardly worth doing at all. Sam spoke of the
Metropolitan Wrecking Company as "we," and
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE LUMBER SCHOONER 207
Bradley forgot that the speaker was, after all, only a
hired diver at Eve or six dollars a day.
"Oh 1" exclabned Gus, when the tale was finished,
"what splendid things men do, and how Hne tt must
be to do them I"
"Yes," laughed Hammond. "We got eighty thou-
sand dollars for raising the Margrave. Worth fight-
ing for; hey, Brad? How would you and Cap'n Ez
look tackling a job like that? New York's the place;
a young fellow has chances there."
Sam did most of the talking. Gus listened and
Bradley brooded. Perhaps, he thought, he had made
a mistake in leaving the big city; perhaps, after all,
he was destined to become nothing but the " 'long-
shoreman" Gus had intimated might be his fate.
Captain Titcomb didn't think so, but he might be mis-
taken. He grew more downcast every minute.
"I tell you, honest. Brad," said Sam, with apparent
earnestness, "I don't see how you and the Cap'n are
going to make much out of this business or get to be
anything more than just anchor-draggers. Speaking
as a man with some experience In wrecking, your
chances against the big chaps, like our crowd, lock
small to me. You may win out, but " He shook
his head doubtfully.
Gus, at Hammond's request, seated herself before
the squeaky old parlor organ and played while she
and Sam sang. Bradley, who didn't sing, sat on the
sofa and watched them gloomily. All day he had
been in that excited nervous state where criticism or
en',*>uragement affected his spirits as the weather does
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
2o8 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
a barometer. The doleful prophecies at die wharf—
although at another time he would have laughed at
them — ^had depressed him in spite of himself. The
whole-hearted joy and confidence of the "old maids"
had cheered him up again, but now he was realizing
that, after all, it was Gus's encouragement and cmi-
gratulation that he wanted, and she had not congratu-
lated him.
At length he rose to go, giving as an excuse the
fact of his being tired and having to be up early next
morning. Gus apologized to Sam and accompanied
him to the door. She came out on the step ; it was a
beautiful ntght, clear and calm, with every star shin-
ing.
Bradley put on his hat. "Well, good night," he
said, shortly.
. But Gus laid her hand on his coatsleeve.
"Oh, Brad!" she exclaimed in an eager whisper,
"Fm so glad youVe got your chance at last I It's
splendid 1 Every one thinks so."
Bradley smiled rather bitterly. "Not every wie, I
guess," he said. "Some people think it doesn't amount
to much, and I don't know but they're right."
Gus shook her head impatiently. "Dcm't talk that
way, Brad I" she cried. "I said every <Kie thinks it's
splendid, and so they do ! They may not say so, but
that's because they're envious."
"Humph I Does that include Sam?"
"Of course it does 1 Couldn't you see? He envies
you and that is why he talks so big about New York.
And he knows you're going to succeed, too. Oh,
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THE LUMBER SCHOONER 209
Brad 1 you ought not to speak of 'not amounting to
much,' now, when your opportunity is here. You
ought to he as proud and confident of yourself as I
am proud and confident of you."
She said it in such a hurst of enthusiasm that it
swept Bradley off his feet. He turned and grasped
her by both hands.
"Gus!" he whispered, looking straight into her
eyes, "do you believe in me as much as that?"
She did not shun his look. "Yes," she answered,
simply, "I do."
Goodness knows what might have happened then.
Perhaps Gus was afraid to wait and see. At all
events, she snatched her hands from his, whispered
"good night," and ran into the house.
Bradley's discouragement had vanished. Every
foot of the walk to the "old maids' " door was arched
with a separate rainbow. It had been anything but a
bad evening, after all.
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^^* ND there she isl" said Captain Titcomb,
/% standing beside Bradley in the bow of the
^ftlb Lizzie. "There she is, just where we left
her. Here's hopin' she don't quit till we want her to.
Run along under her stem, Barney; tide's goin' out,
but there's water encnigh there."
It was the morning of the second day following
the securing of the wrecking contract. The Lizzie,
with Bradley, the Captain, and Alvin Bearse aboard,
had left the Orham wharf an hour or more before.
They had stopped at the Point to pick up Peleg My-
rick and Bill Taylor, the new hands, whose services
the Captain had secured without much trouble. The
only difficulty had been in persuading Mr. Myrick to
leavt Skeezicks at the shanty. This had been over-
come, however, and the shivering pup, locked in the
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AT SETUCKIT POINT 211
-00m that was Peleg's sitttng-room, dining-room and
kitchen, had howled a sad farewell through the crack
of the door. His master had left a liberal supply of
food to console his pet, and had explained the situa*
tion thoroughly to the dog before locking him up.
*'He feels kind of bad now," said Pcleg, looking
sorrowfully back at the weather-beaten shanty, frtwn
which faint, muffled howls Soated in dismal cadences,
"but I've told him that I felt's though I'd ought to
take the job, and he'll git over it by and by. Jest like
a human, that dog is, jest exactly."
They tried to persuade the weather prophet to
leave his concertina behind, but that was a trifle too
much ; Peleg brought it with him, wrapped in an old
sweater.
Barney ran the little wrecking schooner under the
tilted stern of the Ruth Gtnn, and Bradley sprang
from the shrouds to the rail of the stranded craft.
Then, one by one, all but Barney, who stayed behind
to look after the Lizzie, they clambered aboard the
wreck. Most of the hard pine boards that formed
. the deck-load were in place, having been lashed well
and being out of the reach of the heaviest seas, which
had spent their force on the stern and after portion of
the vessel.
"So fur, so good," observed the Captain, cheer-
fully. "Now, Alvin, you go below and see how
things look there. Peleg, try her with the pumps;
let's see if she's leakln' much. Brad, come here and
take a squint at this windlass."
The r^tent windlass was in good condition, and
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2 1 2 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
so also, to their delight, was the donkey engine. Pe>
leg, working manfully at the pump, reported that she
had some water in her, but that it didn't "seem to be
gainin' none."
"That's all right 1" said the Captain. "If she
ain't a sieve, she'll do. She's plumb full of lumber
and you can't sink that. Barney!" he hailed, "run
over into the deep water at the lee of the shoal there,
and anchor. Then take the dory and come aboard;
we want to git to work."
Then Bradley got steam up in the donkey engine
and the big anchor of the Ruth Gtnn, attached to a
heavy cable, was lowered carefully until its shank
rested across the stem of the dory. To this main
cable, near its middle, were spliced two others just as
heavy ; to each of these another anchor was made fast.
The dories were rowed out ahnost at a right angle
from the wreck into the deep water. Then the anchors
were thrown overboard and a three-fingered iron
hand, with its spread talons deep in the sand, held the
lumber schooner fast.
"Now, Brad," commanded the Captain, "haul that
line taut."
Bradley started his engine, the windlass turned,
and the cable, that had hung loose from the bow of
the wreck, lifted from the water and tightened till it
groaned.
"All she'll stand, is it?" asked the skipper.
"Good I make her fast. They say tide'Il wait for no
-nan, so I guess we'll have to do the next best thing
and wait for the tide. Now boys I" as the men
DiqillZDdbiGoOgle
AT SETUCKIT POINT 213
climbed aboard from the dories, "git to work and
strip her."
It is always the tide at Setucktt. The tide, tearing
around the Point, day after day, year after year, has
scoured out the narrow ship channel and piled up
tbe shoals. The tide, catching the unwary coasting
vessel or homeward-bound ship driven into its
clutches by its ally the on-shore gale, coaxes the strug-
gling victim in, little by little, until, all at once, it .
grips her in triumph and throws her bodily upon the
soft, treacherous sand bars. And there, unless the
wreckers come to the rescue, she lies until the next -
storm, when wind and tide tear her into fragments
and leave nothing but a sunken, ragged hulk to be
blown up, eventually, by the men employed by the
government to keep the ocean highways clear.
But, curiously enough, the same tide that forces
the vessels on the shoals is the wreckers' greatest aid
in getting them afloat again. A steam tug is rarely
of much use in these waters. No pull that these stout
little workers can give is sufficient to start a heavy
craft with its keel deeply buried in the sand. Anchors
and cables, and the tide, do the business, if it is done
at all.
Bradley and the Captain knew that they could not
hope to get oat all the lumber in the hold of the Ruth
Ginn if she was allowed to lie In her present exposed
position. One more gale and she would be almost
certain to break up. Their hope was to lighten her
by getting rid of her deck load and to work her off
the shoal into d^ep water and then tow her up to
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
214 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Orhatn harbor, where she could be unloaded at their
leisure.
She lay almost broadside to the shoal, but not
quite. Her bow was well up on the sand, but her
stem overhung the edge of the Boneyard, which, on
that side, was, as Captain Titcomb said, "steep as
the back of a bam." The cable, tight as the steam
windlass could draw it, led ofi from her bow to the
spot where the anchors were planted under many
fathoms of water. Where the tide turned, its pres-
sure against the schooner would bring her to bear
on the cable with a tremendous pull. The waves,
growing larger as the water deepened, should, if their
plan was a good one, loosen her keel in the sand, and
every inch she gave the cable would retain. The
more she loosened, the easier she would move. The
slack thus made in the cable would be taken up by
the windlass. She might gain but a foot a day for
awhile, but, some day or other, if the weather held
fair, she would have worked herself through the sand
and dear of the shoal.
They stripped her, cutting away her tangled ropes
and sails and taking them aboard the Lizzie. Every-
thing movable, except of course the lumber, they
transferred thus or threw overboard. It was a hard
job and took them all day. Bradley was a tired man
when he reached home that night, but he had to an-
swer countless questions put to him by the interested
"old maids." He saw Gus for a moment or two and
reported progress. Then he went to bed.
Next morning was clear and calm and they were
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
AT SETUCKIT POINT 215
delighted to find that the wrecked schooner had
gained a little and that the cable was slacker than
they left it. They tightened it again, with the wind-
lass, and then set to work throwing overboard the
lumber on the deck. They rigged a tackle on the
stump of the foremast and, with the donkey engine,
swung great bundles of the planks overboard, while
Alvin and Barney, standing on the floating timber,
with the water swashing around the knees of their
fishermen's boots, made it into rafts to be towed up to
Orham.
Here it was that the partners appreciated the lack
of an engine on the Lizzie.
"I tell you one thing, Brad I" exclaimed the Cap-
tain, pausing to cut a splinter from his thumb with an
enormous jackknife which had seen years of service,
"if we make good on a few more jobs like this, we'll
have a new schooner built for us if we have to run
in debt for it till we can't touch bottom. This
pitchin' hay with a two-tined table-fork ain't my
style."
That night they hired Ira Sparrow's fishing boat,
the You and I, to tow the lumber rafts. She was a
stout little craft with a naphtha engine, and, although
not nearly so efficient as a tug, did the work after a
fashion and was far and away cheaper. By hiring
her they added Ira to their force.
For eight 'days they labored steadily; except on
Sunday, when they merely sailed down to take up the
slack on the cable. The lumber on the deck had been
rafted to Orham and they had begun to get out that
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
2 1 6 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
in the hold. The Ruth Ginn was moving slowly
through the sand and every day showed more and
more gain. The partners were in high spirits.
"She's a-ccanin', Brad! she's a-comin'l" exulted
Captain Titcomb. "Peleg says clear and fine for a
fortni't yit. We've got out enough now to pay
expenses, but that don't count. What we're after
is to git it all, and, if stHnethin' don't bust, we'll
do it."
The whole town was interested in the work. Brad-
ley was waylaid by dozens of people every night.
The prophets of calamity had already begun to
hedge, although, of course, they were agreed that, if
success did come, it would do so because the partners
were lucky and had had good weather. "Ez Tit-
comb and a fool for luck," was the way Captain
Jabez Bailey put it.
The old maids grew more exultant with every even-
ing's report.
"Ain't it splendid. Prissy?" Miss Tempy would
cry, clapping her hands and waving the dishcloth,
"How much did you make to-day, Bradley?"
Gus was just as much pleased, but more philosophi-
cal.
"I knew you'd win. Brad," she said.
The sisters were very anxious to see how the work
was done.
*'0h, dear I" sighed Miss Tempy, "I'd give any-
thing to be down at the Point and watch you work.
Seems's if I must go I"
"You wouldn't be able to see much without a
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AT SBTVCKIT POINT 217
glass," was Bradley's answer. "We're a mile and a
half off the Point."
"Father's glass is up garret. Oh, Brad I can't we
go?"
They were so eager and the weather was so warm
and pleasant that Bradley began to think it might be
possible to arrange for a picnic at the Point. He
hesitated about suggesting it to the Captain, however,
because he was not quite sure how the latter would
like spending a day with the ladies whom he had so
unceremoniously dropped from his visiting list. But
his first hint was received with great cordiality.
"Sure thing I" said Captain Titcmnb. "Mighty
good idea, Brad. I ain't been to a beach picnic for I
don't know when. Let's see; who'll we ask? The
old maids, of course; and Gusty Baker, maybe —
what do you think about havin' her, Brad? Oh! all
right; you needn't look at me like that. And p'raps
Eri Hedge and Perez Ryder and Cap'n Jerry might
come. They'd be comp'ny for Prissy and Tempy.
Eri's a great feller to train and carry on and he'd
enjoy a cruise like this. Then we ought to have some
girls to be comp'ny for Gusty. She won't want to
hang 'round the beach all day and do nothin' but
squint through a spyglass at you, so dcm't flatter your-
self she will. Might ask Georgiana Bailey, so's to
give tone to the outfit? No? Well, I don't care
much for high society, myself. How about that Hop-
kins girl — Clara, seems to me her name was?"
So the excursion was decided upon for the very
next day, and that evening Bradley went about issuing
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
2i8 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
invitations. He kept closely to the Captain's list aj»J
Perez Ryder was tiic only one of those suggested who
felt obliged to decline. Captain Perez was caretaker
at a big summer house on the "cliff road" and, as the
family was coming from the city in a day or so, there
were preparations to be made.
"Peleg said good weather for to-day," declared
Captain Titcomb next morning, when laden with
baskets and boxes, the excursion party gathered at tKe
wharf. "Thinks I, 'My son, you don't know wha't
you're prophesyin' against: if a picnic can't raise m
shower then nothln' will.' But here 'tis, line as a fid-
dle, spite of the handicap. No use talkin', Peleg'i
got the Old Farmer's Almanac beat a mile.
Land sake, Prissy I what you got in that clothes
basket?"
" 'Taint a clothes basket, Cap'n Ezra. How you
do talk I It's jest a plain lunch basket, and there's
things to eat in it, if you must know."
"Things to eat! Say, Brad, you didn't invite this
crowd for a week's cruise, did you? There's enough
in that basket to vittle a man-o'-war. And Tcmpy's
got one too! What's that other thing you've got,
Tempy — a spyglass?"
"Yes; one that b'longed to father. We're goin*
to watch you and Bradley at work on the wreck."
"Qnrmxstee! Did you hear that, Brad? You've
got to behave yourself to-day. No drinkin' out of
the jug, and then chasin' Peleg with a hatchet; you've
got to keep sober."
And, winking at Captain Eri, who was silently en-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
AT SETUCKIT POINT 219
joying Miss Tempy'a horrified expression, the Cap-
tain led the way aboard the Lizzie.
They had a fair wind down and the sail was a
jolly one. Arriving at the Point, they landed the vis-
itors, and picked up Bill Taylor and Mr. Myrick.
- Miss Tempy begged to be allowed to stay rai board
and go oS with them to the wreck, but the Captain
wouldn't hear of it.
"Last time I took a woman out back of the P'int
here," he said, "was over ten years ago. She was a
minister's wife and her husband was with her. We
was tryin' for bluefish, and when he'd heave his line
she'd screech like a foghorn and beg of him not to
git drownded for her sake. Way I looked at it, she
was his best excuse for wantin' to be drownded.
Well, we got out where 'twas pretty rugged, and
every time the boat rolled she'd jump and hold out
her arms to me like she was goin' to grab me 'round
the neck. Bein' a bashful man, I pretty nigh had
heart disease 'fore we got ashore. 'Course you
wouldn't do nothin' like that, Tempy, but "
"The idea 1" exclaimed Miss Tempy, turning very
red.
"Reminds me of a woman I took out sailin' once,"
observed Captain Eri. "She kept sayin' she was
havJn' an 'adorable time,' and when 'twan't that
'twas, 'Oh, Cap'n Hedge I are you sure it's perfectly
safe?' or 'Cap'n, you're sartin you know how to han-
dle the boat, ain't you?' Fm'lly she looks down the
centre-board well, throws up both hands and whoops,
'I knew it I I knew it I we're sinkin' 1 There's a hole
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
220 PJR TNERS OF THE TIDE
right through the bottom of die boat and it's full oi
water 1' "
So Miss Tempy gave up the idea of going off to the
wreck and contented herself with the possession of
the spyglass. Captain Eri and Captain Jerry, laden
with the lunch baskets, led the way up to the big
empty shanty that had sheltered thirty men in the old
days when Point fishing was a paying industry, and
the Lizzie, with the workers aboard, headed for the
Ruth Ginn.
Ira Sparrow, in the You and I, was there already,
and the "chug! chug!" of his naphtha engine was
heard as he came rushing to meet them.
"Brad! Cap'n Ez!" he hailed, as soon as they
were in shouting distance. "She's shifted like time
in the night ! I swan, I b'lieve we can git her off this
tide!"
This was such unexpected good news, for they had
figured on another week at least, that the partners
could scarcely believe it.
"Are you sure?" shouted Bradley, leaning over the
Lizzies bow.
"Pretty nigh sure, Ijx>k for yourself."
They shot up to the wreck, to find the cable, that
had been left tight and rigid, hanging loose. An in-
experienced eye could see that the lumber schooner
had changed her position. Her bowwas now almost
in a line with the edge of the shoal and, even in the
slack water of the last of the ebb, she was rocking
appreciably in the cradle her hull had made In the
Band beneath it.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
AT SETUCKIT POINT 221
"Great scissors to grind I" shouted Captain Tit-
comb. "She'll do it as sure as I'm a foot high ! Tum-
ble aboard there, boys ! lively I"
They clambered up the side and fell to work like
sharks around a. dead whale. Bradley got up steam
in the donkey engine. As soon as possible they start-
ed the windlass and hauled the cable taut.
"She feels it, boy; she feels it!" cried the Captain.
"Give it to her I every pound she'll stand. Now,
then," he added, "while we're waitin' for the tide to
turn we might's well roust out, a little more of the
cargo. No use to lay back and let Providence do it
all. The Lord helps tfaem that helps themselves, as
the darkey said when he found the hen-house door
unlocked. Hatches ofE, men! dive into it there!"
They rigged the blocks and tackle and began
swinging bundles of mahogany strips from the hold
and over the side. The tide turned and the water
on the shoa! grew deeper. The Rulh Ginn rocked in
her sand cradle ; every little while they hove taut on
the cable in order to take up every inch of slack.
It was exhilarating, exciting work, this fight with
old ocean, and Bradley and the Captain gloried in the
sheer joy of it. They were winning, and winning not
only a goodly sum of money, but the first big prize
that would demonstrate their ability to carry through
larger and more important contracts. The foreno<Mi
passed.
"They expected us ashore for dinner long ago,"
panted the skipper, standing by the hatch, his coat
and cap off and the wind blowing his hair this way
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222 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
and that; "but they'll have to take it out in cxpectin'.
I wouldn't quit now if the Pres'dent of the United
States was waitin' for me and the turkey gittin' cold;
hey, Brad?"
"I should say not 1" replied the junior partner, his
jeyes snapping. "What's that? Didn't she move
f then ?"
"Cap'n Ezl" bellowed Ira, from the You and I.
"She's movin' 1 come up cm your cable."
The Captain jumped to the windlass and Bradley
to his engine. The cable tightened, and slowly, inch
by inch, wound back over the windlass barrel. From
beneath the Ruth Ginit came a sliding, grating sound,
the most welcome sound in the world to the wreckers.
Bearse, picking up a heavy coil of rope from the deck,
tossed it to Ira.
"That's the stuff, Alvin!" roared the Captain, ap-
provingly. "Make it fast in the bows. Now, Ira I
put your power onto that line."
The You and I leaped out into deep water and,
with her naphtha engine coughing furiously, pulled
doggedly at the new tow line. The grating under
the keel of the lumber schooner grew louder; she
quivered from stem to stem. The cable crept in-
;board faster and faster.
Then there came a shake, a roll that caused Mr.
Myrick to lose his footing and tumble into the scup-
pers, and, with a triumphant wallow, the Ruth Ginn
slid off the shoal. And from her deck, and from that
of the You and I, went up a yell that scared the gulls
fishing away over on the Razorback.
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AT SETUCKIT POINT 223
They drew her into the channel, well out of danger,
and anchored her firmly, bow and stern.
"There!" said the Captain, triumphantly. "She'll
stay there till we can get a tug from Vineyard Haven.
We'll go ashore and telephone from the life-saving
station for one this minute. No more work to-day,
boys. They're waitin' dinner for us, and we've i
earned it."
That the good news was already known on the
beach was plain. On the roof of the big shanty some-
one — it was Captain Eri — was seated, waving a flag
made of a coat tied to a weir pole. As the Lizzie and
the You and I ran into the cove the picnic party came
hurrying to meet them.
"Now then I" shouted Captain Jerry, waving his
hat; "three cheers for the wreckers I Hooray I'*
And Miss Tempy's handkerchief sailed off on the
breeze as she let go of it in her excitement.
The Captain ran up to the life-saving station to
telephone to Sam Hardy an order to wire Vineyard
Haven to send a tug at once. When he came back
dinner was ready.
It was a tiptop shore dinner; baked clams, clam
chowder, fried plaice-fish, and all the pies, apple puffs
and cake that had filled the lunch baskets. Bradley
was too excited to eat much and the old maids were a
little worried in consequence.
While the ladies washed the dishes the men smoked
and spun yams. It was after three o'clock when they
finished. Then they dragged Peleg Myrick into the
shanty and made him play the concertina, while they
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
224 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
danced "Hull's Victory," "Speed the Plough," and
the ever popular "Virpnla Reel." There were not
partners enough to go around, so some of the men
danced together. Captain Titcomb, in his rubber
boots, offered his arm with a flourish to Captain Eri
and the "cuts" and "double shuffles" that the two
shellbacks introduced into that reel were wonderful,
although they very nearly broke up the dance.
"We won't have supper till seven o'clock," an-
nounced Captain Titcomb. "Come on, girls and
boys I who wants to go over to the lighthouse?"
They all did, or nearly all ; Gus was standing by
the back window, looking at the sea, and she did not
reply._
"Ain't Brad goin'?" asked Miss Prissy anxiously,
turning as she was about to leave the shanty, with
Captain Jerry as her escort.
"Leave Brad alone a minute," called Captain Tit-
comb, who was walking with Clara Hopkins. "He
wants to git his bearin's, I guess. You women folks
have pretty nigh talked his head off. He'll be along
pretty soon."
They went away and Bradley, for the first time,
was alone with Gus. The old maids had given him no
chance to do more than speak the barest word with
her before, and now that he had the opportunity, he
was almost afraid to begin. She must have known
that he was there, but she did not turn her head.
The silence was very awkward. Bradley broke it,
after what seemed a long time.
"Gus," he said.
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AT SETUCKIT POINT 225
She turned then, and, after glancing at his face,
spdce hurriedly.
"Oh I" she exclaimed; "they've gone and left us.
Come ; let's catch them 1"
But he stopped her before she reached the door.
"Gus," he said, seizing her hand and heading it;
"haven't you got anything to say to me?"
She did not look at him. "What shall I say?" she
asked. "What do you want me to say?"
"Why, I thought you'd be glad that I've got the
schooner off. I thought you'd say — the others
said "
"I am glad, very glad. And very proud. But I
knew you would succeed. Hadn't we better go?"
But he would not let her go.
"I hoped you'd say more than that," he said, dis-
appointedly. "I was dreadfully blue the other night
when Sam was there. I thought that, after all, per-
haps I was making a fool of myself in giving up the
city and trying to win out down here. It looked so
small beside the great jobs Sam talked about. But
when you spoke to me on the steps and told me you
believed in me, It all changed, and I swore to myself
that I would win, because you wanted me to. Gus,
do you really care? Are you really glad?"
Then she turned to him and he saw that her eyes
were wet.
"What do you want me to say?" she whispered.
"That I am more glad than I've ever been in my life
before, and so proud of you, jo proud because you
were brave enough to make your fight and win it in
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
22U PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
the face of the whole village ? And so ashamed of
myself because I didn't encourage you as I ought
when you first told me? I can say all that, Brad, and
truly mean it."
"But Gus — ohl it's no use! that isn't enough. I
haven't got any money, and I've only begun in my
work, and I may fail, after all; but Gus, will you wait
for me? Do you care enough for me to wait and
hope with me, and marry me some day when I really
win? Do you?"
He held her hand in both of his and waited, breath-
less, for the answer. But she did not give it ; instead
she looked at the window and through it at the sand
dunes and waving beach grass and the blue sea be-
yond. And Bradley, gazing at her face, saw the
tears overflow her eyelids and roll down her cheeks.
He turned white, and a great dread came over him.
"Gus, don't you — can't you care for me?" he begged.
And then she turned, and, leaning her head upon
his shoulder, cried heartily and without restraint.
"Why did you ask me? Why did you?" she sobbed.
"Because I had to. Gus, don't you love me?"
"Oh, Brad I I don't know. I think I do, but I'm
not certain. I'm very, very proud of you, and I be-
lieve in you, but, oh, dear I I'm afraid of myself.
I'm afraidof my temper; afraid I may change; afraid
I don't really love you as much as I ought to."
"There isn't anyone else, is there?" .
She smiled, tearfully. "No, Brad, there isn't any-
one else."
"Then won't you try to say yes? Perhaps you'll
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AT SETUCKIT POINT 227
learn to care for me. Won't you say yes, and try.
dear?"
"Do you want me to say it, now that you under
stand just how I feel ?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to take me just as I am — ^liking you
better than anybody else in the world, but not — per-
haps, not really loving you as it seems to me a girl
ought to love the man who is going to marry her?"
"Yes."
"I'm a queer girl, Brad. Grandma says I'm like
her best china teacups — I must be handled carefully
or there'll be a smash. I guess that's so. I don't
trust myself; I change my mind five times a day. Do
you want me to say yes, in spite of all this ?"
"I do."
"Then I will say it; and I will try to be what you
would like to have me."
He bent his head and kissed her, and just then
came a thunderous knock on the door.
"Brad," whispered Captain Titcomb, through the
crack; "are you there ? I've come back after Tempy's
spyglass. Git it for mc, will you? Maybe you'd
better hurry,", he added, with a suppressed chuckle.
"She'll be here in a minute, herself."
The spyglass was handed out in a jiffy.
by Google
CHAPTER XII.
THE ANCHOR OF THE tIBERTY.
BRADLEY would have proclaimed his happi-
ness through a speaking trumpet, but Gus
begged that the engagement be kept secret for
a while. "Please let me feel a little surer of myself
first," she pleaded, and Bradley agreed, as he would
have agreed to climb Bunker Hill Monument on the
outside if she had asked him to.
He "carried on so," as Miss Tempy expressed it,
during the sail home that evening, that that lady was
a trifle alarmed and asked her sister, as they were
getting ready for bed, if she thought there could be
anything in what Captain Titcomb had said about
the jug.
"Land sakes ! no 1" was the indignant answer, "If
Bradley'd took to drinkin' I guess we'd have found it
out afore this. Do you wonder the boy feels happy?
I could have stood on my head, myself, when I saw
that lumber vessel come off the shoal this afternoon.''
S£8
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE ANCHOR OF THE LIBERTY 229
One more question Miss Tempy asked, after the
light was put oat.
"Prissy," she whispered; "Cap'n Titcomb seemed
more like himself — with us, I mean — than I've seen
him for three years. Almost like he used to be. Do
you s'pose that means anything?"
"I don't know. Go to sleep."
The tug arrived the next forenoffli and the hull of
the Ruth Ginn was towed up into Orham harbor.
There she was anchored, where the getting out of
the rest of her cargo would be a comparatively easy
task.
They worked with might and main and, at the end
of a month, the job was done. The last joist was
laid upon the wharf. Obed Nickerson expressed him-
self as surprised and highly pleased.
"You fellers have done mighty well," he said. "I
felt kind of shaky when I let you have the contract,
but I shan't feel so again. If you had a bigger vessel,
with an engine in her, I b'lieve you could handle *most
anything that's likely to run up on this coast"
Their share of the cargo's value amounted to
twenty-nine hundred dollars, and, all expenses de-
ducted, the profit to the partners was over two thou-
sand.
"Not so mean for two greenhorns in a floatin' soup
ladle," crowed the Captain. "Brad, how's the Jere-
miahs these days? Ain't anybody said 'I told you
so,' yit, have they?"
The underwriters' agent was their friend now and,
inside of another fortnight, he had put a job in their
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
230 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
way diat brought them in four hundred dollars more.
She was a coasting schooner that had grounded off
the Point) and her skipper had contemplated tele*
graphing to the Salvage Company, but, thanks to
Obed's recommendation, the chance was given — for a
much lower price, of course — to the Lizzies owners.
The vessel laid easy, with only her bows on the sand,
and the anchors and cables got her dear in three
days.
Then they went anchor-dragging again, and met
with considerable success. The skipper of the coaster
that the partners bad worked oi! the shoal, as just
described, said to a friend of his, who ctmimanded a
four-master, "There are a couple of fellers down to
Orham that are smart wreckers as ever I saw. They
snaked me off the edge of the Razorback in next to
no time, and didn't charge ha'f the vessel was worth,
neither." And the captain of the four-master was
by this reminded that he had lost a good anchor and
thirty fathoms of chain on the Orham rips only three
months before. He wrote to Captain Titcomb, giv-
ing the "ranges" as near as he could remember them,
and the partners agreed to undertake the job of re-
covering the lost "mudhook." They found it, after
a while, but, oddly enough, their drag line picked up
four other anchors, of various sizes and values, before
the right one was finally hauled on board.
All this was profitable, as well as good advertising,
and the Lizzie's owners were doing well. But they
were ambitious and yearned for the day when they
might undertake bigger things. Captain Titcomb was
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THE ANCHOR OF THE LIBERTY 231
for ordering a new and larger wrecking schoimer im-
mediately.
"What's the use of waitin', Brad?" he argued.
"We've got enough on hand to pay part of what a
decent schocner's worth. Let's go in debt for the
rest"
But Bradley, more conservative, counselled waiting
a little longer. "No use saddling ourselves with a big
debt to start with," he said. " 'Dead horse' is the
meanest animal to pay for that I know of."
"You remind me of Uncle Elihu Bassett, that the
old man— dad, I mean — used to tell about," said the
Captain. "Uncle Elihu was a great feller for bein'
economical. The only thing he spent much money for
was rum, and his argument was that rum was a cuss
anyhow, and the more old chaps like him bought the
less there was to tempt the younger generation. Well,
the said generation didn't stand much show 'longside
of him, that's a fact.
"Dad used to say he'd never forgit Uncle Elihu
settin' in the tavern that was over at Hamiss in those
days, and swearin' a blue streak because he hadn't
been able to git down from his house to town-meetin'
the week afore.
" 'Consam it I* says Elihu; 'I was dyjn' to git to
that meetin' to raise my voice ag'in' appropriatin' that
money to fix the town's highways. Wust extrava-
gance ever I see, that is I I'd a-been there,' says he,
'only the mud in our road was so deep I couldn't drive
through it.' "
And, although the Captain agreed to wait a little
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
232 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
longer before ordering the new vessel, he announced
that he was going to keep his eyes open, and perhaps
he'd strike a bargain some day or other.
In August Miss Prissy threw the household into
constematiwi by coming down with the grip. She
had insisted on going to church in the rain because
Mr. Langworthy's nephew from Providence was go-
ing to preach that Sunday, and she came home with
wet feet. A chill followed, Dr. Palmer was called in
and the housekeeper and business manager, in spite
of her protestations, was put to bed. And in bed she
stayed for some time.
Miss Tcmpy, without her sister was, as the Captain
would have described it, "as uneasy as a fish out of
water." She insisted on acting as nurse and house-
keeper both. Bradley, prompted by the doctor,
hinted at hiring a servant, but was incontinently
snubbed.
"I guess not/" exclaimed Miss Tempy. "I don't
want any hired girls traipsin' 'round this house ! I've
heard enough from other folks who do have 'cm.
Mrs. Thankful Brier was tcllin' me only a few Sun-
days ago, at meetin', that her daughter Jane up to
Melrose wrote her that she'd had three girls in less'n
a fortni't, and the last one put the dog crackers, or
biscuits, or whatever they be, on the supper table
*cause she thought thev was cookies. The idea I No,
I don't want any girls I"
"Then you must let some of the housework go.
It's too much for you ; you'll Be sick, yourself."
"Let the housework go/ I guess not! Bradley
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE ANCHOR OF THE LIBERTY 233
Nickerson, we Aliens may be poorer than we used to
be, but we're not shif'less."
So, as if to prove this assertion, she relentlessly
scrubbed the floor of the big dining-room next day
and was very pale and tired when Bradley came in to
supper. And then followed the first disagreement be-
tween the young man and the sisters since that dread-
ful first day at school.
Bradley put his foot down and declared that a
servant should be hired. Miss Tempy put hers down
even harder and vowed she shouldn't. It ended by a
scene in the sickroom.
"Bradley," said Miss Prissy, weak but unconquer-
able, " 'fore I'd let you spend your money to hire a
girl in this house, I'll git right out of this bed and do
the work myself. If it's the last act, I will I Tempy,
you let things slide till I'm better. Now mindt"
But letting things slide was not an Allen trait, as
Bradley had been told. Very much troubled he went
to Gus for advice.
"Brad," said that young lady, after a few mo-
mmt's thought; "I think I know just the one for you.
I believe Clara Hopkins would come if I asked her."
"Clara Hopkins 1 Why, Gus I she isn't a servant." '
"Of course she isn't I She wouldn't think of com-
ing as a servant. But, you know, since her mother
went away to Fall River to stay with Clara's brother
— his wife has the typhoid fever — it has been terribly
lonesome for the poor ^rt there at home. She told
me, the other day, that she couldr^t stay alone much
longer; she thought she should shut up the house and
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
234 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
board somewhere. Now, I believe she would come
and live with the old maids. Of course you mustn't
hint at paying her wages, but she could help about the
house, and she is jolly and good tempered and a splen-
did nurse. I'll ask her, if you want me to.'*
"She'd be just the right one. But, Gus, it won't
woric Miss Prissy or Miss Tempy wouldn't have
her come there to help, any more thdn they would a
hired girl."
"They don't need to know that she comes for that,
at all. Oh, Brad I if you were cmly a little less
straight up and down, and just a little more like —
well, hke Cap'n Titcomb. Don't you see? You must
make the old maids think that they're doing Clara a
favor; not that she's doing them one. / could arrange
it, I'm sure; but you're so dreadfully transparent."
Bradley was aware of the transparency and it was
with no great hope of success that he threw out the
first hint concerning Miss Hopkins. To his surprise
the hint was well received. The sisters liked Clara
and she had told Miss Tempy, only the week before,
how lonely she was.
"Poor thing!" sighed the younger sister. "If
Prissy was well, I'd have her come right up here and
[make us a visit. I'd be glad to have her come and
spend the day with us, anyhow."
This was unexpected good luck. Qara, duly
"coached" by Gus, came to spend the day. She made
herself so thoroughly at home, was so pleasant in the
sickroom, and helped in so many ways without seem*
ing to try, that the old maids were delighted.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE ANCHOR OF THE LIBERTY 235
"I declare, Clara I" said Miss Tempy; "I've jest
enjoyed havln* you here. You shan't go back to dhat
poky, shut-up house to-night. We've got a spare ■
room and you can stay here jest as well as not."
When the sisters were alone, she said: "Prissy, I
never enjoyed doin' a charitable ad: more'n I have
maldn' that poor, lonesome girl happy to-day. It
pays to act like a Christian, don't tt?"
And after that, of course, It was easy. Clara stayed
on from day to day. She became a part of the house-
hold, and, gradually, lifted the burden from Miss
Tcmpy's shoulders. It was pleasant to be able to sit
by the bedside and read aloud from The Fireside -
Comforter, knowing the while that the housework
was being done and well done. And Clara liked
"perrer tea," or said she did. Here, indeed, was a
kindred spirit.
One night — Peleg had prophesied it for a week
before — a heavy northeast gale broke the monotony
of summer weather. It very nearly brought disaster
with it. The great six-masted coal barge Liberty, re-
cently built, with her twin sister, the Freedom, by
Cook and Son, the "coal kings" of Boston, came with-
in a hair's breadth of running bodily upon the Bone-
yard shoal. She was running into the Sound, under
sail, with a tug following her, and the wind and tide
caught her, as they had caught many another vessel.
The skipper,' suddenly realizing his danger, ran to the
windlass, loosened the dog and pin, and let the mam-
moth anchor go over with a run. Then he leaped to
the compressor, to clamp the chain ; but the tide was
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
236 PJR TNERS OF THE TIDE
too much for him. The chain flew over the "wildcat"
with a howl, and, before he could stop it, anchor and
one hundred and twenty fathoms of chain were
stretched out on the bottom.
Lucky for the Lib&rty and her owners — she bad
cost ninety thousand dollars to build, and carried over
iive thousand tons of coal — the skipper of the stout,
sea-going tug saw the danger, ran up astern of the
helpless barge, and got a line aboard in time to check
her headway and hold her nose off the shoal.
"Well, Brad," said Captain Titcomb, when the
flews reached Orham ; "land knows I ain't prayin' for
other folks to lose money, but ivhat a job she'd have
made for somebody — say for us, hey? There's from
thirteen to twenty thousand in gittin' a whale like
her afloat."
"Yes," replied his partner, "but twenty tons of
brand-new anchor and chain are worth eight hundred,
at least, and half of that will go to whoever picks 'em
up. We want that anchor-dragging job, sure."
But it wasn't so easy to get, and so they found.
Their success in the wrecking venture had bred would-
be rivals. Before that day was over, Seth Wingate
and two or three of his friends had offered, by wire,
to locate and "buoy" the lost ironwork for the sum
of three hundred dollars. Then the Salvage Com-
pany was to send down a tug and bring it to the
surface. It was a great disappointment to the part-
ners.
It is one thing, however, to agree to perform and
another to do. Seth had not had much experience la
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THE ANCHOR OF THE LIBERTY 237
anchor-dragging, and although his catboat and two
or three dories scraped the bottom for three days, they
failed to hook the object they were after. The skip-
per of the Liberty came to Orham and put up at the
Traveller's Rest. That night Captain Titcomb and
Bradley called at his room.
"Cap'n Gould," said Captain Ezra, "does it make
any diff'rence to you who finds that anchor and chain
of yours?"
"Not a continental? All I want is to have some-
body find it."
"You folks haven't contracted with Wingate and
his crowd then?"
"No, they offered to find and buoy for so much, and
we let 'em try; that's all."
"All right. Now, you tell me, as nigh as you re-
member, jest where the Liberty was when you hove
anchor."
So Captain Gould told them. The Setucklt light
was about so and so; the Razorback lightship off here;
and the rest of tt.
"Here's where we lee-bow brother Seth, I cal'late,"
whispered Captain Titcomb as they left the room.
"Pesky idiots I they never asked a question ; jest went
bull-headed draggin' the edge of the Boncyard. If
Gould's right that anchor's a ha'f mile to the no'th-
east."
And, sure enough, there it was. The drag line
from the Lizzie's dories caught on one of the great
flukes before the following forenoon was over. The
way-line was sent down, the messenger followed, and,
DiqilizDdbyGoOgIC
238 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
clamped securely, the prize was "buoyed" before din>
ner time.
"What you doin', Seth?'* hailed the Captain, in a
prorokingly cheerful voice, as they passed the Win-
gate catboat. "Seinin* porgies? We've jest buoyed
a big mudhook ofi here. Might be the Liberty's;
you can't tell."
The Captain was for going to Boston at once and
claiming the three hundred, but Bradley had been
thinking.
"Why shouldn't we do the rest of the job?" he
asked. "That anchor, as it lies, is ours. We found
it; we buoyed it. Why should we give it up to the
Salvage people? We didn't make any deal with
them."
Captain Titcomb fairly whooped with delight.
"Bully for you, Bradl" he crowed. "Sartin sure I
why should we? We can't even take our Bible oath
that it's Gould's iron we've found."
They planned and argued until two o'clock. Then
Bradley rushed up to the house, swallowed a hasty
lunch, threw a nightshirt and toothbrush into
his grip and caught the three o'clock train for
Boston. He did not even stop to tell Gus of his
departure, and trouble came of that omission
later on.
At nine o'clock next day he leaned across the ma-
hogany rail in tlie office of Cook and Son and asked
an important young gentleman, with a pen behind
his ear, if Mr. Cook, Senior, was in.
"No," replied the important young man, looking
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THE ANCHOR OF THE LIBERTY 239
condescendingly at his sunburned questioner; "but I
am."
Bradley ventured to hint that he was aware of his
informant's distinguished presence, but that he wished
to see Mr. Cook, Senior.
"What did you want to see him for?" queried the
human pen-rack. Bradley did not care to make his
business known, so the young man went back to his
desk. In an hour he again leaned across the rail to
inform the visitor that the manager was in.
"I want to see Mr. Cook," replied Bradley.
He waited. The forenoon passed. People came
in by dozens, were admitted to inner offices and went
away again. Beyond again askbg what Bradley's
business might be, and receiving no satisfactory an-
swer, the gentleman at the desk did not trouble him-
self further. At exactly twelve he stepped into an-
other room, returned with his hair artistically curled
on his forehead, covered it with a straw hat surround-
ed by a beautiful white and blue band, and went out
— presumably to lunch.
Bradley was hungry, but persistency was cme of his
virtues, and he sat still. An hour later, a atout man
with side whiskers and a protruding chin came out of
one of the inner offices.
"Are you Mr. Cook?" asked Bradley.
The stout man looked him over and admitted,
shortly, that he was.
"My name is Nickerson. I'm from Orham. I
came to see you about that anchor and chain that the
Liberty lost; I think, perhaps, I've found it."
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240 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"You do, hey? Have you buoyed it?"
"Yes, sir."
"AH right. The Salvage Company will send a tug,
and, if it's our anchor, and you did find it, we'll for-
ward you a check for three hundred dollars. Any-
thing more ? I'm going to lunch."
"Yes, sir. The anchor and chain, as they lie on the
bottom, are ours. My partner and I are wreckers,
and we think we ought to have the job of raising
them."
"You do, hey? Well, the Salvage people do my
wrecking jobs, and they'll do this one. Good-day."
"Mr. Cook, if a tug is sent to Orham to take up
your anchor, and if they touch our anchor — the one
we've buoyed — ^we shall sue you for damages."
The coal king lodccd at him in complete astonish-
ment.
"Weill I like your nerve I" he exclaimed. "Didn't
you say it was my anchor you'd found?"
"I said I thought it might be yours. But we've
found it, whatever it is, and it's ours until you prove
property. Then, when you do prove it, we'll be ready
to arrange for salvage charges."
"How do I know you can raise anything, even a
rowboat's anchor?"
"All we ask is the chance to prove it."
"What'll you charge?"
"Five hundred dollars."
"I'll sec you further. The Salvage people wtm*t
charge more than that."
"They couldn't do it any better than we can."
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THE ANCHOR OF THE LIBERTY 241
"Well, sir, you can have three hundred if you've
got it buoyed, just as I said. That's all you'll get,
and a tug will be there day after to-morrow. Take it
or leave it. Now you can go to Orham, or the
devil, just as you like. You can't bluff me, young
man."
The great Mr. Cook went to lunch then, and Brad-
ley, too, left the office. The young gentleman with
the striped hat band, who had returned in time to
hear the latter part of the interview, grinned pity-
ingly.
That evening, when the train came in, the Captain
was on the Orham station platform to meet his part-
ner. He listened with interest to the story that the
latter had to tell.
"Say I" he exclaimed. "You stood up in your boots
like a little man, Brad. But ain't you afraid we're
kind of bittin' off our nose to spite our face? Cook
and Son's a big concern, and Titcomb and Nickerson
ain't quite in the king row yit, you know."
The fact is the Captain's old respect for owners
had not entirely disappeared. He stood a trifie in
awe of men whose payroll contained the names of
twenty skippers.
"No, sir I" replied Bradley, with determinatitMi.
"We're right, and he'll have to come to our terms or
let his anchor stay where it is till doomsday."
He felt rather well satisfied with himself, on the
whole, and more like his own master than ever before.
He continued to feel that way until, after supper, he
called upon Gus, and then the cool manner in which
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
242 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
that young lady received him reduced his self-esteem
considerably.
"Why, what's the matter?" he asked, in despair,
after being snubbed and answered in monosyllables
for ten minutes. "Aren't you interested in what I
did?"
"Ohl I don't know. Why should I be? You're
not particularly interested in me; that's plain."
"Not interested in you? Why, my dear girl!
"Bradley Nickerson, why didn't you tell me you
were going to Boston ? Anyone would think that was
the least you could do."
"Why — why, Gus I ' I didn't have but a minute I
I should have missed the train 1"
"Suppose you had, there's another in the morning."
"Yes, but then the business would "
"The business I I'm sick of the business I You
dwi't think or speak of anything but the business.
Why don't you think of me, or what I'm interested
in, occasionally?"
She had heretofore listened to his plans and
schemes so patiently, and had helped him with so
many su^estions, that this sudden change upset him
completely.
"Why, Gus !" he faltered. "I'm awfully sorry. I
thought you'd understand."
"Yes, you thought I'd understand; and so you went
away without a word and left me to find out from
Miss Tempy that you'd gone. How did you know
that it would please me to have you go? How did
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE ANCHOR OF THE LIBERTY 243
you know that I didn't wish, to spend the evening
somewhere ? You didn't know, and you were so sel-
fish that you didn't care. You neglect me more and
more all the time."
It was unreasonable, of course, but there was just
enough truth in it to cause Bradley's conscience to
prick him sorely. He had become more and more in-
terested in his work, and his talk had been principally
confined to that subject, but he certainly had not
meant to be neglectful. He did what the man must
do in such cases; he apologized, confessed that it was
all his fault, and humbly begged forgiveness, with all
sorts of promises for the future.
After it was all over and they had made up, Gus
said:
"Brad, I am interested in your success and in your
plans, but you mustn't let them fill all your mind. I
told you that day at the Point that I wasn't sure of
myself and that, as grandma says, I must be handled
with care. I'm trying hard to please you, dear.
Don't forget to try your hardest to please me, even
in little things."
Later she said, casually, "I had a letter from Sam
to-day. They've made him superintendent of a crew
J that are at work on a big steamer."
Now it wasn't pleasant to learn that his fiancee re-
ceived letters from another man, especially Sam Ham-
mond, but Bradley was wise enough to feel that this
was not the time to raise objectiwis.
"Oh 1 1 shan't answer it, of course," said Gus, as If
the had read his thought — as no doubt she had — "but
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
244 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
he docs have such good times in New York: theatres,
and concens and everything. Orham is such a deadly
dull place for everybody but the summer people. I
do so want to go somewhere or do something for
amusement."
Altogether, that evening was not the most assuring
or satisfying one of Bradley's life.
And in a few days, as the senior member of the
6nn of Cook and Son had predicted, the tug came to
raise the barge's anchor. She belonged to the Salvage
Company and her skipper had been directed by his
owners to stop on the way to New York and do this
little job. She found the Lizzie lying to close by the
buoy.
"Is that the Liberty's anchor you've got buoyed
there?" shouted the captain of the towboat.
"Don't know," answered Captain Titcomb, cheer-
fully. "It's one we picked up draggin'. Might be
the Liberty's, p'raps."
"Well, I've got orders to get it up."
"Guess not. That's our buoy and our anchor, fur's
anybody but the fish knows. We'll fetch it up when
we're ready. Don't need any help."
"Oh, look here I What's the use of talkin'?
That's the Liberty's iron, all right. Let me get at it;
you'll get your price for buoyin' it."
"You touch that buoy or those lines and you'll git
into trouble. Keep your hands off our property un-
less you want to pay for your fun."
The skipper of the tug knew he had no means of
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THE ANCHOR OF THE LIBERTY 245
proving that the buoyed anchor was the one he was
sent for. He fumed and argued the whole forenoon;
the partners were cheerful but firm. At last the angry
towboatman went up to Orham to telephone for in-
structions. He came back swearing mad.
"What did they say?" asked Captain Titcomb,
calmly.
"Told me to take it up if I was sure 'twas the Lib-
erty's. How in thunder do I know whose 'tis ?"
All night long the Lizzie stayed by the buoy, and
the tug rocked close beside her. In the morning the
sidpper of the latter vessel hailed again.
"How long are you goin' to keep this up?" he
asked.
"Oh I 'twouldn't be polite to go away and leave
you, you bein' out of town comp'ny," was the un-
moved answer. "We're takin' watch and watch
'board here. How do you work it ?"
"Aw, go to thunder I" was the disgusted reply.
For a few hours longer the towboat and wrecking
schooner lay side by side, while their crews exchanged
compliments.
"Hi I" shouted Barney Small, pointing to the jet
of steam from the tug's escape pipe; "your teakittle's
leakin'. Want to borrer our sodderin' iron?"
The mate of the little steamer made answer by re-
questing Barney to lend him his face "to fight a dog
with."
At noon the tug's skipper made another trip to the
telephone, this time using that at the life-saving sta-
.tion. He stated the situation to his owners without
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1.46 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
frills. The work at New York could not longer be
kept waiting, and he was told to start for that port.
"Ain't goin' to leave us, are you?" hailed Captain
. Titcomb, as the tug began to move.
"Oh I don't you fellers git the big head too bad,"
was the answer. "I've got somethin' better to do
than roost down here. But there'll be other callers;
don't forgit that. You little two-for-a-cent beach-
combers can't beat the Boston Salvage Company so
easy."
"Chuck us a tintype of yourself to remember you
by," yelled Bill Taylor,
"Tell your sister not to worry about me," shouted
- Alvin Hearse. "I'll write pretty soon."
And Peleg, prompted by Mr. Small, brought out
his concertina and played "Good-bye, Sweetheart,
Good-bye," with agonizing pathos.
Captain Ezra sent a final hail after the snorting
towboat.
"You tell Mr. Cook," he shouted, "that the longer
he lets that chain lay where 'tis the worse it'll sand.
In a month it'll be covered in so you can't git up
more'n ha'f of It. Tell him to wire us when he gits
ready to pay our price. And sayl" he added; "don't
forgit to tell him to prepay the message."
by Google
CHAPTER XIII.
MR. COOK WIRES.
AFTER that both sides stood pat for a time.
Cook and Son, although they sent no
more tugs, did not wire, as the Captain
had suggested, and the anchor and chain lay un-
touched on the bottom, with the Lizzie's buoy floating
above, and the tide-driven sand sifting steadily over
the great iron links.
The partners went dragging for other anchors.
At the end of a week, Captain Titcomb hinted that it
might be a good idea to telephone the Liberty's
owners and ask if they were ready to trade. But
Bradley was firm.
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248 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"No," he said ; "we can stick it out as Icmg as they
can."
The Captain grinned admiringly. "Brad," he
said; "you've got more nerve than I have; I swan if
you ain't I When I think of us two buckin' up against
a cwiccm that owns twenty-two vessels, I give in it
gives me tfie paisy in my knees. But go it, son I I'll
stand behind you till all's blue."
The next move in the game came from an unex-
pected quarter. The Captain and Bradley had just
landed one evening, after a day on the shoals, when
Obed Nickerson came strolling down the wharf to
meet them.
"Hello I" he said. "Haven't seen you fellers for
some time. Goin' to walk up to the village? Don't
know but I'll go with you ; I need a little exercise."
This seemed a trifle odd, for sleek, easy-going
Obed wasn't fond of walking; as a usual thing be
preferred to drive one of his fast horses. As Captain
Titcomb said, later: "You didn't need to smell bait
to know somebody was goin' fishin'."
They walked on, talking town politics and gossip.
No one mentioned business until the underwriters'
agent said, casually : "Well, haw's things goin'? Got
up that barge anchor yit?"
"Not yet," replied Bradley.
"Humph I 'Twill be pretty badly sanded if you
let it lay much longer, won't it? Why don't you fel-
lers write to the Salvage Company? I understand
the job was given to them, I don't imagine either
you or they want any lawyers mixed up in it. I
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
MR. COOK fVIRES 249
ihouldn't be s'prised if they'd be wUlin' to meet you
ha'f way in a dicker."
Captain Tltcomb kept his eyes fixed on the ground.
"What makes you think so?" he asked.
"Oh! nothin' special. But I'd write 'em if I was
you."
"Hum I You couldn't do it for us, could you,
Obcd?"
"Why, I don't know. Maybe I could. I know
'em pretty well. Now s'pose— only s'pose, of course
— that I could fix this thing up; what's the low-
est terms that you'd raise that anchor and chain
for?"
Then the Captain looked up and laughed, like one
who has solved a riddle, "That's Brad's job," he
said. "Ask him, Obed."
"Well," said Bradley, with his hands in his
pockets. "We'll raise that anchor and what we can
get of the chain for five hundred dollars. That's our
price."
"Oh I now what's the use? They won't pay that,
and "
"Look here I" broke in Captain Titcomb, "I've had
some dealin's, afloat and ashore, with this young
feller," laying his hand on his partner's shoulder,
"and I've found that, when his mind's made up, he's
a kind of combination of mule and the Rock of Ages.
'Twon't do, Obed. You write to the Salvage Com-
pany or Cook and Son, or whoever set you on this
tack, and tell 'em that Titcomb and Nickerson are
little, but oh my! Tell 'em that that chain's sandin'
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
250 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
and settlin' every day, but that, if we have to wait till
the other end sticks out in China and makes a clothes-
line for the heathen in his blindness, there she stays
til! they come to time. No hard feelin's to you, Obed,
and sorry you had your walk for nothin'."
The underwriters' agent was momentarily embar-
rassed; then he laughed.
"AH right," he said. "You mustn't git the idea
that there's anything in this for me. I only "
"I know. You only done it to oblige, like the
feller that fetched the rat poison to hts mother-in-
law when she said he made her sick of life. We
understand. Good-bye."
The partners were considerably encouraged by this
interview. They argued that Cook and Son were get-
ting nervous.
That evening Bradley and the old maids were in
the sitting-room. Miss Prissy was much better and
had, for the first time, donned a wrapper and come
downstairs to sit in the big rocker. Miss Tempy was
reading aloud to her, and Clara was in the kitchen
washing the supper dishes.
" 'The Earl bent his proud head,' " read Miss
Tempy, " 'and gazed into the clear blue orbs that me*;
his own. "Claire," he murmured, in a deep, rich tone
that vibrated through the heavy air of the gloomy
cavern; "Claire, my beautiful! my ownl poor and
humble your station on earth may have been, but
henceforth, if we escape from the lurid flames of
yonder volcano and the cruel blades of the merciless
buccaneers, you shall no longer be the peasant miid,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
MR. COOK WIRES 251
but my bride, my wife, mistress of Castle Craggy-
knoll; the peerless " ' "
"What's that?" she exclaimed, breaking off sud-
denly.
"What's what?" asked her sister, drowsily.
"Seems to me I heard somebody in the kitchen."
"Clara is there, isn't she?" queried Bradley.
"Yes, but — I thought — yes, there's somebody else.
I do b'licve it's a man I You don't s'pose she's got a
beau? I'm goin' to see."
And, before the others could remonstrate, she put
the Comforter on the table and started for the kit-
chen. They heard her cross the dining-room and
open the door. Then came an exclamation.
"Whyl why I" she cried; and then, "Well, I do
declare I"
"What do you s'pose 'tis ?" asked Miss Prissy, now
thoroughly awake. The kitchen door had swung to,
but there was a great clatter of voices behind it. Miss
Tempy was raxlaiming and arguing; Clara, apparent-
ly, was saying very little, and a third person, in a
deep bass rumble, was explaining something or other.
"Land of goodness I" cried Miss Prissy, "I hope
it ain't the minister, and me in this old wrapper."
The kitchen door was opened, Miss Tempy ap-
peared beaming, and there followed her into the sit-
ting-room no less a personage than Captain Ezra
Titcomb. The Captain's face was the least bid red-
der than usual, but he was otherwise as suave and
unmoved as if the time of his previous call had been
but yesterday instead of four years before.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
252 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"Well, Prissy I" he said, shaking hands with the
invalid, "how are you to-night? 'Most ready to come
on deck and take command? No, dtm't git up.
Evenin', Brad."
Poor Miss Prissy I She patted her tumbled hair
into the most presentable shape possible, hurriedly
pulled the red and white knitted "Afghan" over the
wrapper, and managed to gasp that she was glad to
see the Captain. Then she sat still and stared re-
proachfully at Miss Tempy.
But that lady was too excited to notice her sister's
agitation. She fluttered about the visitor like a hen
with one chicken, trying to hang up his hat, dropping
it, blushing violently as she collided with him in the
attempt to pick it up, and generally behaving, -as Miss
Prissy said afterwards, like a a bom gump.
"Set right down, Cap'n," she pleaded. "We're
reel glad to see you. What made you come to the
kitchen door ? I couldn't think who 'twas ; could you.
Prissy? Oh, my sakesl"
In her nervous haste she had pushed forward the
big armchair that had once been the throne of Captain
Darius, but which, owing to the inJirmities of age,
had for some time been kept in the comer for show
purposes only. It had a weak leg, and, when Captain
Titcomb planted himself upon the worn black oil-
cloth cushion, the infirm member prcwnptly bent
inward and the Captain slid gracefully to the
floor.
"Tempy!" exclaimed Miss Prissy, in a freeiing
tone. Bradley laughed and ran to assist the fallen
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
MR. COOK WIRES 253
one. Miss Tempy, now in a perfectly helpless state,
wrung her hands and stuttered.
"The idea of givin' him father's chair!" cried Miss
Prissy. "Tempy, have you gone loony? I hope you
ain't hurt, Cap'n Ezra? Wc never use that chair
now. It used to belong to father."
Miss Tempy was heard to remark, feebly, that it
looked "so like him." She declared afterwards that
she didn't say it.
The Captain made light of the accident and se-
lected another seat, carefully testing it beforehand.
He at once began to talk about the weather and Miss
Prissy's illness. But the older sister interrupted him
as soon as the opportunity offered.
"What made you come to the back door?" she
asked.
There wasn't an instant's hesitancy in the Captain's
reply:
"Oh I" he said, lightly, "it's rainin' a little and I
thought I wouldn't muss up them floors of yours. I
know them floors of old," he added, and laughed
heartily. He continued to talk about the floors and
seemed to think his fear of soiling them a great joke.
Miss Tempy, who was a trifle more rational by this
time, laughed with him, but Miss Prissy seemed still
curious.
"You used to come to the dinin'-room door, even
when it snowed," she said.
"Yes, but I had on my sea-boots this time and
they're so big I tote ha'f the road along with me. Re-
minds me," he added, hastily, just in time to cut off
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
254 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
another question, "of what the old man — my dad, 1
mean — said about a colored cook he had aboard his
dhip once. Dad said that darky's feet was the largest
live things without lungs that he ever saw out of
water."
Bradley thought he had never seen his partner so
willing, even anxious, to monopolize the entire con-
versation as he was that evening. He cracked jokes
and spun yarns without stopping to rest. Clara came
in, after a little, and seated herself quietly on the sofa.
She, too, seemed a trifle nervous, but the sisters did
not notice it. They were hypnotized by their caller's
lively tongue, and laughed like girls. Miss Prissy
grew more like herself every minute.
"Don't go, Cap'n," she pleaded, as the visitor
pulled out his watch and rose from the chair. "I de-
clare ! you're better'n the doctorl"
"Much obliged. Prissy, but 'twas too much of a
good thing that busted the cider jug. Two opposition
doctors in one house would be like the two Irishmen
■fightin' for the pig — 'twas an 'Ilegant row' while it
lasted, but it killed the pig. No, I must be gittin' on.
I left my umbrella out in the kitchen. Clara, bring
the lamp, will you, please?"
Clara rose and started for the kitchen, but Miss
Tempy Intercepted her.
"/'// git your umbrella, Cap'n," she said.
"No, no! you set still. Clara knows jest where 'tis;
she put it away."
"Well, I guess I can find it. You needn't come,
Ciara. Yes, here 'tis. Good night, Cap'n Titcomb.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
MR. COOK WIRES 255
I — I hope, now you've found the way, you'll call
again some evenin'. Bradley'll be glad to see you
and so will Prissy and — and I. You've done her a
world of good. Good night."
The Captain walked briskly down to the gate.
Then, as the door closed behind him, he paused,
wiped his forehead with his coatsleeve, and drew a
long breath.
There was jubilation in the old maids' room that
night.
Obed Nickerson must have been prompt in com-
municating to the Salvage Company, or Cook and
Son, the news of the failure of his attempted negotia-
tions with the partners, for on Tuesday of the follow-
ing week this telegram came :
"Bradley Nickerson, Orham, Mass.
"Come my ofSce immediately.
Alpheus Cook."
"Humph!" grunted Captain Titcomb; "short and
crisp, like the old woman's pie-crust, ain't it? Well,
Brad, I guess you'd better go."
Bradley agreed with him and, once more, he hur-
ried home to pack his grip. But this time he took
care to tell Gus. She rejoiced with him over the
triumph they both felt sure was coming.
"You're succeeding. Brad," she said. "Everybody
is talking about it. I'm prouder of you than ever."
"But when will you be willing to have me tell
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
2s6 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
people that we're engaged? Mayn't I do that nowf
Gus?"
She paused, and his hopes rose ; but then she shoc^
her head. "It wouldn't be fair to you," she said.
"Somedmes I feel that I almost — ^well, like you
enough to be content to stay in Orham all my life and
work for you and with you. I'm trying hard to feel
that way. But at other times it seems as if I muit
get away to where the people talk of something be-
side their neighbors' affairs; where there are great
things being done and where the world moves. You
think I'm inconsistent, don't you ?"
"No, it is dull down here, and most of the folks
are rather narrow, I'm afraid. Gus, you know what
my business means to me. Well, if it will please you,
and if you'll come with me, I'll give it all up, even
now, and go back to the city and try it there."
She smiled tenderly. "You're a dear, good boy,"
she said ; "but do you suppose I should ever be happy
again if I let you do that?"
The railway journey to Boston had only one inci-
dent worth notice. At Buzzards Bay the Boston
train meets that bound down the Cape. There was
some delay at the station and Bradley stepped out on
the platform. He was walking up and down smoking
when somebody shouted, "Hello, Brad Nickersonl
what are you doing here?"
Brad turned and saw Sam Hammond.
"Weill" he exclaimed, shaking hands with his old
scat-mate. "Where are you bound — Orham?"
"Yup. How is the old graveyard, anyway?"
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MR. COOK WIRES 257
*'Pretty quiet just now. Most of the summer folkjS
have gone home. You on another vacation?"
Sam laughed. "Kind of vacation a fellow hands
out to himself," he answered. "The Wrecking Com-
pany and I had a row; they tried to put ^n men's
work on me and I wouldn't stand for it. So I told
'em to go to the devil. It put 'em in a hole, all right,
but nobody's going to walk on my neck, if I know it.
I'm gomg home to- loaf for a while — I need a rest
anyway. Then I'll go back to New York and hook
on with another crowd. There's plenty of 'em want
me, but they can wait. How's all the girls? Gus
Baker pretty well ?"
They talked for a few minutes longer. Sam asked
how the anchor-dragging trust was getting on. Then
the two trains started. Bradley leaned back in his
seat in the smoker and meditated. Stnnehow a con-
versation with Sam always made him "blue." He
wished the fellow was not going to Orham.
Next morning, bright and early, he walked into the
"coal king's" office. The important young man with
the pen behind his ear disdained to recognize him.
"Who'd you wish to see?" he asked, after a dig-
nified interval.
"Mr. Cook — the older one," answered Bradley.
"He's busy now. Likely to be busy all the morn-
ing. What do you want to see him for? Won't I
do?"
"Don't know, I'm sure," replied the wrecker,
gravely. "I'll speak to Mr. Cook about it. You see^
he was the one that sent for me, so "
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
258 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"He sent for you I Oh 1 excuse me. I wish you'd
saiJ so sooner. Sit down, please. What name, sir?"
"Nickerson — sir."
The young man, much less important, hurried into
another room, and returned at once.
"Mr. Cook'Il see you, sir," he said, opening the
gate. "Step right into his private office, Mr. Nicker-
son. Say," he added, in a whisper, "maybe you'd
better not mention that I wanted you to talk to me."
The great Mr. Cook was seated behind his big
carved desk. The whole outfit looked rather formid-
able. He stared at Bradley over his glasses.
"Sit down," he commanded. "Got my wire, I sup-
pose?"
"Yes, sir."
"Humph 1 Yes. Well, have you fellows got tired
of keeping me from recovering my property yet?"
"What property?"
"Oh, be hanged I You know what property I mean.
Arc you ready to let the Salvage Company take up
that anchor you've got buoyed?"
"No, sir."
'. "When will you be?"
"Never," was the smiting answer.
"Humph I" Mr. Cook wheeled round in his chair.
*'I suppose you realize, young man," he said, im-
pressively, "that this concern of ours could send down
tugs and men enough to snake that anchor and chain
right out of your hands. You understand that, do
you?"
"Yes, sir, I understand it.**
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
MR. COOK WIRES 259
"Then what's to prevent our doing it?"
"I don't believe you want a lawsuit."
"Lawsuit I Why, Nickerson, look here I I've got
lawsuits on my hands now that make anything yea
could bring up look like thirty cents. And my law-
yers could fight you through court after court till you
were milked dry. What chance wchiM you have
against our money?"
"Not much, sir. But, Mr. Cook, Is It worth the
trouble and what it'll cost you ?'*
The "coal king's" manner changed. He leaned
back in his chair and actually grinned.
"For a 'longshoreman," he observed, "you're not
so slow. No, it isn't worth the trouble, to say noth-
ing of the money and those confounded nuisances,
lawyers. There's been more valuable time and breath
wasted on this fool thing now than the eight or nine
hundred dollars it cost comes to. Why don't you see
the Salvage Company and make a trade with them?
They're about sick of it, too."
"I'd rather trade direct with you."
Mr. Cook patted his desk with his pencil. Then
he glanced at the clock.
"Oh, pshaw!" he exclaimed, testily. "Well,
what's your lowest price delivered on the Orham
wharf? Lowest, mindl no trimmings 1"
"Five hundred dollars."
"All right, you may take it up. I'll give you four
hundred cash for the job. Go ahead, and work
quick. Good-day, Nickerson; glad to have met
you."
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
26o PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
He swung around to the desk and picked up some
papers. But Bradley did not go.
"Excuse me, Mr. Cook," he said. "Our figure
yiis five hundred, not four."
"Humph I Well, five's robbery. Four's what I'll
pay."
"All right, sir. Sorry wc can't trade. Good morn-
ing."
"Hold on there!" shouted the owner of the Lib-
erty. "Do you mean you won't raise the anchor?"
"Not for less than five hundred."
"Split the difference; make it four-fifty?"
"No, sir."
"Oh, well, hang It I go ahead. Five hundred, then
»=-*nly don't bother me any more."
But Bradley still hesitated. "There is just one
thing more, Mr. Cook," he said. "That chain has
sanded in every day since it has been on that bottom.
We may not be able to get up the whole of it. We
warned your tugboat skipper when he was down.
We'll do our best, though."
"Oh I you'll get it. I'd be willing to bet that you'd
get up the everlasting foundations if you made up
your mind to. Say, Nickerson!" Mr, Cook put his
hands in his pockets and looked quizzically at Brad-
ley; "I guess I owe you an apology. I said, when you
were here before, that you couldn't bluff me. Well,
it looks as if you could. ' Any more at the Cape like
you?"
Bradley laughed. "Shouldn't wonder," he said.
"Don't want a job, do you?"
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MR. COOK WIRES 261
"No, sir; not at present, thank you. That is, noth-
ing but wrecking jobs. Anything in that line yoa
can throw in our way we should appreciate."
"I'll remember it. If you get sick of anchor-drag-
ging any time, come and see me. Have a cigar to
smoke as you go along. Good-day."
The young man with the pen, now very polite,
bowed Bradley out of the gate. The junior partner
was happy. He felt that not only had the wisdom of
his course in the matter of the Liberty's anchor been
proven, but that when Cook and Son should have
future wrecking contracts to give out, Titcomb and
NIckerson might be considered as bidders to be reck-
oned with.
by Google
ii^m^ HERE !" exclaimed Captain Titcomb, ten
I days later, when the last section of the
^L Liberty's chain had been laid on Orham
wharf; "there I Ma/ child's bom and his
name's Adoniram I Now, then, Brad, what next —
more anchor-draggin' ?"
Getting up that chain with a hand windlass was a
tough proposition, but they had done it finally. The
calm weather helped them here, for though the heavy
links had sanded somewhat, they managed to work
the last one loose after a struggle. Again the part-
ners had longed for the much talked-of schooner with
an engine, but this time it was Bradley who did most
of the complaining. The Captain merely looked wise
and winked knowingly. "Keep your head to wind-
'ard, son," he remarked. "Maybe I'll have a s'prise
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "SUBSCRIPTION BALL" 263
party for you some of these days." Bradley didn't
know what he meant and the Captain wouldn't ex-
^ plain.
In reply to the question concerning what was to
be done next, the junior partner, who was sitting on
an overturned salt-mackerel tub aboard the Lizzie,
asked a question in his turn.
"Cap'n Ez," he said, "do you remember that
schooner loaded with tar that foundered on the flats
oR Caleb's Point last March ? The one we located
when we were dragging for Anderson's anchor that
time?"
Captain Titcomb nodded. "Yup," he said. "She
b'longcd to a Boston firm, seems to me. Let's see —
what was their names ?"
"Colton, Lee and Company. They are on Com-
mercial Street. Well, I went in to see 'em when I was
up to Boston."
"You did?"
"Yes. That tar has stuck in my mind ever since
you told me about it. It was in barrels, you see, and
it's harder than Pharaoh's heart naturally, so the salt
water hasn't had time to hurt tt any to speak of.
Obcd told me that the schooner was insured and the
cargo wasn't. So I thought I'd go in and see the
owners. Well, they'd pretty nearly forgotten about
the tar — I suppose it had been charged to prolit and
loss long ago. We talked and I told 'em that I
might, perhaps, be able to save a few barrels — only
a few, of course. The upshot of it all was that I
bought the whole cargo, eight hundred and forty bar-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
264 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
rels, just as it lies on the botton, for twenty-live doL
lars cash."
"You didn't?"
"I did. It was twenty-iive dollars more than they
ever expected to get, at that. Now, Cap'n, our agree-
ment was that no new move should be entered into
without the ccmsent of both partners. This deal was
so 'all in the air,' as you might say, that I didn't say
anything about it until I'd seen the owners. Now, if
you feel that we can't raise enough of the stuff to pay
for the trouble, I'll let the twenty-five come out of
my pocket and call it a fine for being too smart."
"You shan't do no such thing I We can git out
enough of that tar to make that up twice over, even
with the back-number rig we've got. But if we had
a divin' kit and a diver, I'd be willin' to bet we could
save two or three hundred barrels, maybe more."
"That's what I thought. So I spent nearly three
hours cruising up and down Atlantic Avenue and rum-
maging in ship stores and such places. And, Cap'n
Ezra, I know where we can buy a complete fit-out
second-hand — pumps, pipes, diver's suit and the
whole business, in Ai shape, so far as I can see — for
three hundred and fifty dollars. Just for a flyer I
paid ten dollars and got an option on it for a week."
"Nof you didn'tf Brad Nickerson, here's where
the old man takes his hat off. You've got me beat,
hull down. I'll be askin' you for a mate's job yit.
Three hundred and fifty 1 Dirt, d<^ cheap !"
"I'm glad you feel that way, Cap'n. Of course a
diver'U be expensive. The Salvage Company wiU
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "SUBSCRIPTION BALL" 26^
charge us anywhere from fifteen to twenty dollars
a day for a good one. And there's where Vm afraid
the whole speculatitm falls down. We don't know
how that tar lies, whether the hull's broken up,
whether the barrels are sanded over or not. It might
take so long to get it out that we'd lose money."
The Captain, with both hands jammed into his
pockets — his beckets, he called them — ^was pacing up
and down.
"Lay to, son," he observed, shortly, "and let your
hair grow. You've landed nine-tenths of this deal
already; let me handle t'other tenth. I have a sneak-
in' notion that Z can git that diver cheap enough to
make it worth while. No, I shan't say anything more
jest now. You wait."
But the next morning he greeted his partner with
jubilation.
"I've got your diver, boy!" he cried. "That is,
I've got him if you say the word. Five dollars a day,
too, instead of fifteen."
"Where in the world "
"Right here in Orham. And he's had plenty of ex-
perience. What's the matter with Sam Hammond?"
"Sam Hammond! Sam — Why, Cap'n Ez, what
are you talking about? Sam told mc himself that
he'd come home to rest. He's going back to New
York in a little while. He wouldn't work for us!"
"Wouldn't, hey ? Brad, 'twas the feller with one
leg that was too religious to dance. Sam's out of a
job. Maybe he fired the boss ; maybe the boss fired
him. All I know is that he told me last night he'd
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
266 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
dive for ua at five dollars per. 'Course he'd only do it
to help us out, but thafs all right; I don't care if
there's a hole in the bag so long's the cookies arc in-
side."
Bradley was silent. He didn't like the idea of
having Sam as a shipmate. There were other reasons
as well, and these the wily Captain may have guessed,
for he said:
"Now, Brad, of course it's for you to say. We
couldn't git another good man so cheap, but never
mind that. Sam is a great feller for the girls, and
they seem to like him pretty well. I s'pose he'd be
cuttin' out some beau or other, and then we'd have
trouble on our hands. Not that that would hurt you
any, except in a way, but — ■ — "
Bradley interrupted him sharply. The hint roused
his pride. "Oh I I don't care," he said. "Hire him,
if you want to. Only, I'm surprised that he's willing
to come."
And so that is how Mr. Samuel Hammond, late of
the Metropolitan Wrecking Company pi New York,
came to enter the employ of Titcomb and Nickerson,
to whom he had contemptuously referred as "anchor-
draggers." But if Bradley supposed for a mcMnent
that Sam would change his patronizing attitude be-
cause of the move, he was much mistaken, Mr,
Hammond laughed when he boarded the Lizzie,
asked facetiously if "this was the vessel or only the
long boat?" and poked fun at the whole outfit gen-
erally. He gave each member of the crew to under-
stand that he was only doing this for a while, to help
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THE "SUBSCRIPTION BALL" 267
out Brad. He said that puttering around this way
was such a change for him that it was the best fun of
his vacation.
He took pains to make his position plain in the
minds of the townspeople. Captain Jabez Bailey told
Bradley, in a confidential whisper : "It's mighty good
of Sam to turn to and help you and Ez out of a hole.
I hope you appreciate it." Bradley said he appre-
dated It fully.
Even Gus was Inclined to view the matter in that
light. Sam saw to it that she did. He called at the
Baker homestead pretty often, and when Bradley was
there treated the latter in a jolly, good-fellow sort of
way that couldn't well be resented, but which had al-
ways in it that aggravating flavor of pitying patron-
age.
Bradley felt that he was placed in an awkward and
humiliating position. He told Gus so plainly.
"Gus," he said, "the last time we talked on this
matter you spoke of 'treating me fairly.' Do you
think it's fair to allow Sam to call here as he does ?"
A more experienced ladies' man — Captain Tit-
comb, for instance — ^would not have selected this par-
ticular evening to bring up this particular subject.
Gus was in one of her uncertain moods. She had re-
fused to be serious before, and she was not serious
now.
"Why, Bradley Nickersonl" she exclaimed, with
a laugh, "I do believe you're jealous!"
"No, I'm not jealous, exaaly. But why do you let
him come here?"
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268 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"You are jealous I Oh, dear me ! I didn't believe
you had that sort of a disposition. Why do I let him
come here? What shall I do? Lock the door and
scream 'I've gone out!' the way old Cap'n Pepper
did when the tax collector called?"
"Oh, be serious, please I'*
"All right I Let's be very serious. Sam calls here,
I suppose, because he and I have always been friends
and we're friends now. I don't invite him, but I can't
very well tell him to stay away. He doesn't know
that you and I are engaged— or partially engaged —
and "
"That's just it! If you will only let me tell people
of our engagement then he can't call any more. May
I, Gus?"
"Brad, don't you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you."
"Then why are you suspicious or what arc you
afraid of?"
This very direct question was embarrassing. Brad-
ley felt certain that he had good reason to be sus-
picious of Hammond's intentions, but be knew he
had no actual proof that would warrant his saying
so. He stammered, and could reply only that he
didn't like the fellow's calling so often.
"I don't see," said Gus, "why you dislike Sam so.
He never mentions your name without praising you.
He thinks you are doing wonderfully well."
Bradley knew just the tone in which that "wcmder-
fully well" had been uttered by the ex-New Yorker.
It made him nngry.
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THE "SUBSCRIPTION BALL" 269
"Yes," he remarked, with sarcasm, "I suppose his
lordship thinks we're doing very fairly for Cape Cod
countrymen. Well, he's working for those same
countrymen himself, now, so he ought to know."
"I think that's a very unkind remark, especially
when Sam is helping you, as he is, just out of friend-
ship. I tell you this, Brad : Sam isn't always talking
about himself and saying sarcastic things about other
people."
Bradley went home injured and resentful. He
made up his mind that Gus shouldn't have another
chance to call him "jealous.'* He could show her that
there were others who didn't care.
He plunged into business deeper than ever. The
diving outfit came from Boston and worked well.
They visited the sunken tar schooner and Sam made
his first dive ; Captain Titcomb, who understood the
apparatus, worked the pump. Sam reported that the
tar seemed to be in good condition, and that, for the
present, they could get up a number of the barrels
through the hatchway. Later they might have to
. blow away a part of the hull.
So every fair day they worked over the wreck.
Sam, in the diver's suit, clambered down into the sub-
merged vessel's hold and attached the barrels to the
tackle. Then, by the aid of the windlass, they were
hauled up and swung aboard the Lizzie. By the
first of October they had already gotten out over two
hundred barrels, and Sam said that he saw no reason
why all of the eight hundred might not be secured in
the course of time. The tar speculation was already
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
270 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
a very profitable one, and the credit belonged to Brad-
Ity.
There was to be T7hat the posters called "A Grand
Select Subscription Ball" at the Orham Town Hall
on the evening of October tenth. The local corre-
spondent of the Item announced that the beauty and
fashion of the surrounding section were expected to
be present, that the Silver String Orchestra, all the
way frcrni Bridgewater, was to furnish music, and
that, altogether, the afFair would no doubt be "the
most elite time that our village has seen since the
Masonic Temple was dedicated."
Gus had expressed a desire to go to the ball and
Bradley had subscribed; that is to say, he had paid
two dollars for a ticket admitting "gent and two
ladies."
He dressed for the affair, when the evening came,
with no very pleasant anticipations. The relaticHis
between Gus and himself had not improved since the
disagreement over Sam's visits. It was as much his
own fault as anyone's; instead of waiting for a fa-
vorable time and again pleading his case, he brooded
over what he considered his ill-treatment and behaved
almost boyishly sulky. Gus resented this behavior
and showed that she resented it. It was all very fool-
ish, of course, but also very natural. And, meanwhile,
Mr. Hammond, backed by some experience with the
ladies, played his own cards with discrimination.
The partners were expecting a check from New
Bedford in payment of the first shioment of tar. and.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "SUBSCRIPTION BALL" 271
as it was early when Bradley finished dressing, he
detennincd to go down to the post-office before call-
ing for Gus. Captain Titcomb was out of town. He
had not told where he was going, merely observing
that he wanted a couple of days off for private busi-
ness. What the private business was he did not state.
The old maids were on hand, as usual, to inspect
their boy when he appeared in the sitting-room. Miss
Prissy brushed his coat and handed him a clean hand-
kerchief, while Miss Tempy sprinkled his lapel with
perfumery from her own bottle. The sisters were in
high spirits these days. Miss Prissy was almost well
again, and Captain Titcomb was calling with en-
couraging regularity. Clara, whose mother seemed
likely to spend the winter at Fall River, was still with
them. As Miss Tempy said, they didn't see how
they had ever got along without her. On this par-
ticular evening Miss Hopkins, dressed in her best,
had gone out. She had explained that she might go
to the ball, "just to keep Bennie company." "Bennic"
was a twelve-year-old cousin of hers who lived down-
town and was attending dancing-school.
The expected check did not arrive on that mail,
and, as Bradley came down the post-office steps, some
one laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned
with a start.
"Why, hello, Cap'n Ezl" he exclaimed, "you back
again?"
The Captain nodded. He was dressed in his Sun-
day clothes and carried a hand-bag. His light over-
coat was thrown open, his derby hat was a little on
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
^^^ PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
one side, and the stump of a cigar was gripped b^
tween his teeth.
"What's up?" asked the junior partner.
"Everything's up," was the brisk answer. "You
come with me."
"But I can't stop now ; I'm in a hurry."
"Never mind your hurry. I want you. Stopped
at the house on the way from the train, but Tempy
said you'd gone to the office. CcHne on — come !"
He hooked his arm into that of his companion and
' led the way through the crowd of loungers on the
sidewalk. Bradley still protested.
"But, Cap'n Ez, wait till some other time. I
must "
"Shut up I I'm so full of steam I'll bile over in a
minute. This ain't foolin', it's bus'ness."
He dragged his puzzled partner along the side-
walk and across the road to the Traveller's Rest.
Bradley hung hack and asked questions, but the Cap-
tain would ndther pause nor answer. He opened the
door of the hotel and literally pushed his friend in-
side. Then he led the way upstairs and into his own
room.
"Set down I" he commanded, kicking a chair up to
the table and turning to lock the door behind him.
"No, Cap'n, I can't sit down; I ought to be going
this minute."
Captain Titcomb hesitated. Then he unlocked the
door and flung it open.
"All right I" he said, "go ahead. I've been count-
in* on springin' the news on you for the last six hours,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
rUE "SUBSCRIPTION BALL" 273
but I s'pose I can wait another ten. Don't let me
interfere with your plans."
Any other tone than this and Bradley might have
continued to resist. As it was he sat down, though
with reluctance.
"Well ?" he said, somewhat impatiently.
"Weill" replied the Captain, still with the ag-
grieved expression on his face. "Now, Brad, you
know mighty well I've got somethin* important to say
— somethin' mighty important, or I wouldn't have
snaked you up by the coat-collar this way. I haven't
even stopped to cat a mouthful, myself, I was so crazy
to git at you. But never mind that; if you ain't in-
terested enough to *'
"You know I'm interested, Cap'n Ez. Only do
hurry!"
The Captain locked the door again. Then he todc
a bundle of papers from his overcoat pocket, and,
selecting a card from among them, said, impressively,
"Brad, what have you and me been prayin' for for
the last three months or more?"
The junior partner shook his head. The Captain's
suppressed excitement was beginning to have its effect
on him.
"I dwi't know," he replied. "Do you mean a big
job?"
"I mean somethin' that'll give us the tools to do a
good many big jobs with. I mean a new, up-to-date
wreckin' vessel." He leaned across the table. "Brad,
my scm," he said, slowly, "I've got that very craft.'*
"You've got her?"
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274 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"IVe got her, or the same as got her. Look at
that I"
He tossed the card on the table and Bradley picked
it up. It was the photograph of a good-sized, two-
masted schooner — a wrecking schooner, and of mod-
em build ; so much was plain.
"Look at her I" cried the Captain. "Ain't she 9
dream? And that tintype don't begin to do her jus-
tice. Now, Brad, that schooner's the Diving Belle,
built in New Bedford two years ago and cost eight
thousand to build. No sham about her; built for
wreckin' ; good seasoned timber, tackles, patent wind-
lass, nice, light, roomy cabin, anchors, sails, all com-
plete — and a first-class sixteen horse-power gasoline
engine. And, son," Captain Titcomb raised his fist,
"you and me can buy the whole blessed outfit for five
—thousand — dollars — cash 1"
The fist fell on the table with a bang. BradleJ
gasped in delighted wonder.
"You don't mean it I" he cried.
"You bet I mean it 1 And Fve got a six-day option
on her, and I had to talk t6 git it, too. You see," he '
added, gleefully, "you ain't cornered the cq)tion mar-
ket altogether."
"But where is she? Whose was she? How did"
you hear of her? Five thousand I Why, that's
a "
"Easy! Easy I 'One at a time, please, so 111
know which to dodge,* as the play actor said when
he got the bouquet one side of his head and the cab-
bage t'other. Now, I'll tell you all about it."
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THE "SUBSCRIPTION BALL" 275
And he kept his word. When Captain Tltcomb
really enthused over a subject he was a wonderful
talker. Now, shaking a forefinger in his companion's
face, he talked so fast that Bradley forgot everything
except to listen. The schooner had been butlt for one
Abijah Foster, of Vineyard Haven. She had been
engaged in the wrecking business for two seasons
along the south Jersey coast and then her owner died.
His widow was the only heir and she needed money.
The vessel had been bought by a Nantucket man, but
when it came to paying the price there had been a
hitch that resulted in the collapse of the deal. Cap-
tain Titcomb had heard of this hitch some weeks be-
fore and that was what his previous hints had meant.
He wrote to the widow's lawyer, received a letter in
reply, and hurried to the Haven.
Bradley was now as wildly jubilant as his partner.
He asked innumerable questions, but the Captain had
an answer ready for each one. He had with him a
rough plan of the schooner's rig, a photograph of her
cabin, a drawing of her engine. These were laid on
the table and they moved from one to the other, the
Captain explaining, pointing and arguing. The pass-
ing of time was forgotten entirely.
"There I" cried Captain Tltcomb, at length, taking
a drink from the water pitcher to moisten his throat,
dry from continuous talking; "there 1 that's what my
private bus'ness out of town was I D'you wonder I
had to unload to-night or bust a biler?"
The junior partner awoke from his trance with a
start. And just then, from the sitting-room below,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
276 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
came a muffled, whirring sound, followed by a suc-
cession of faint "Hoo-hooa" nine of them alto-
gether. The cuckoo clock, legacy of old Captain Syl-
vester Harding, who had willed it to the Traveller's
Rest — possibly as a partial recompense for unpaid
board — ^was doing its duty.
Bradley turned white and then red. Nine o'clock I
and the grand march at the Subscription Ball was to
start "promptly at eight I" And Gus had looked for-
ward to this evening for over a month I
It is doubtful if, even now, he could tell much about
his trip from the Captain's room to the Baker cottage.
He ran most of the way. Over and over again he re-
proached himself for his forgetfulness. Gus had
called him neglectful and selfish once before; what
would she say now? He scarcely dared knock en
the dining-room door.
But whatever he may have expected to hear when
that door opened, what he did hear was certainly a
distinct surprise. It was some moments before the
knock was answered. Then the door opened a very
little way and Grandmother Baker, her head envel-
oped in a shawl, peeped out.
"Who is it ?" she asked, doubtfully. Nine o'clock
is a late hour for callers in Orham.
"It's me — Brad. Where's Gus?"
"Oh I I declare, Bradley, you scjtrt me, comin' so
late. Gus has gone."
"Gone I"
"Yes. She said if you called to say that she didn't
wish to interfere with anything so important as your
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THE "SUBSCRIPTION BALL" 277
business matters. You see, Sam Hammond stopped
here about ha'f-past eight and said he'd seen you and
Cap'n Ezry go into the Traveller's Rest together. So
Gus went to the ball with him."
The Subscription Ball was nearly half over when
Bradley came up the stairs of the Town Hall. He
tossed his ticket in at the window and absent-mindedly
checked his overcoat and hat. Then he stood in the ■
doorway looking at the dancers. For almost an hour
he had been walking up and down the sidewalk oppo-
lite the Hall, remorsefully hating himself one minute,
and fiercely nursing his injured pride the next. Twice
ht turned to go home, and each time he turned back
again.
The "waltz quadrille" was the particular dance
then going on. Bradley glanced over the crowded
floor. He caught sight of Sam Hammond dancing
with one of the Rogers girls. Opposite them in the
set, he noted vaguely, were Captain Titcomb and
Clara Hopkins. Further off "Snuppy" Black and
Georgiana Bailey were whirling with the "society"
step— Georgiana always proclaimed that the "glide"
was "dreadful old-fashioned." Captain Jabez was
turning stout Mrs. Scth Wingate; the "glide" was
good enough and to spare for Captain Jabcz.
At last Bradley saw Gus. She was away down at
the other end of the hall and her partner was Hart-
well Sean. He was glad that she was not with Sam,
but he resented the look of enjoyment on her face.
He did not know that she had seen him looking for
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
278 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
her, and that the expression was assumed for his
benefit.
But when Hartwell, at the end of the quadrille, es-
corted her to the settee by the wall, Bradley, white
but firm, walked straight toward her. She saw him
coming and smiled coolly.
"Hello I" she said, "so you decided to come, after
all!"
"Gus," whispered Bradley, bending toward her,
"I'm 80 sorry. Please forgive me."
But Gus didn't intend to forgive so socm. She had
been deeply wounded by what she considered his neg-
lect, and she meant to punish him.
"Oh!" she observed, carelessly, "I realize that I
must not expect you to think of my pleasure when
Cap'n Titcomb wants to interview you. Oh, yes,
Sam! this is our schottische, isn't it? I'm so glad!"
The next instant she was sorry she said this, but then
it was too late.
There was just a suspidon of triumph in the glance
that Hammond gave him as the music began for the
schottische, and Bradley watched them go with tight-
shut lips. Then he tossed his head and stepping
briskly down to where the younger Miss Rogers sat,
entered into a lively conversation.
Miss Rogers had arrived late and her card was, in
consequence, not full. Bradley promptly pencilled
his initials in every vacant space. The fact that he
thereby contracted for a galop, a "York," and a schot-
tische, none of which he had the slightest idea how to
dance, didn't trouble him at tKe time. As for the
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE "SUBSCRIPTION BALL" 279
flattered Miss Rogers, she simpered and giggled and
looked up into his face until Melissa Busteed — ^who
had been given a gallery ticket and had come in order
to denounce the whole sinful affair at the next Come-
Outers' meeting — declared 'twas a mercy she didn't
kiss him right in front of the whole crowd.
They went to supper together and — there was fate
in it, beyond doubt — sat directly opposite Sam and
Gus. Bradley ate cold ham and ice-cream without
knowing which was which, being certain only that
bMh were flavored with gall and wormwood. He
laughed as loudly as the rest when unlucky Captain
Jabez spilled a plate of vanilla-and-lemon-mixed into
his wife's lap, but five minutes later he couldn't have
sworn that it had happened.
He spoke with Captain Titcomb but once. That
was during an interval between dances, when the Cap-
tain, red-hot but smiling, came strolling towards him.
"Hello, Brad I" he exclaimed. "Got here, didn't
you?" Then, glancing at the young man's face, he
added: "Havin* a good time? Hope our stoppin*
to talk didn't make any diff'rence?"
The answer was non-committal. Just then "Ben-
nie," Miss Hopkins' nephew, came up. He was ar-
rayed in his first black suit with "long pants," and
the glory thereof sat grandly upon him. The Cap-
tain noticed it.
"My!" exclaimed the latter, "you are tony to-
night, Bennie. How you do grow ! You'll be a man
'fore your mother yit. Docs she know you're out ?"
He hurried away in response to the pronpter's call
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
280 PyiRTNERS OF THE TIDE
of "Take your partnera," leaving the indignant Ben-
nie to obiervct "Humph I think's he's smart, don't
he I He ain't any dancer. Don't know one of the
new steps us fellers learn at dancin'-school. Gee I"
with a chuckle, "Clara was awful mad at him. He'd
engaged the grand march and a lot more with her and
never got here till ha'f-past nine. If he hadn't ex-
plained how you'd got hold of him at the post-office
and kept him talkin' 'wreckin' ' for over an hour, I
don't b'lieve they'd have made up yet. 'Twouldn't
have made any difference to her, though; / was here,
and I can dance better'n any two Cap'n Ez Tit-
combs."
Bradley had never before felt so much like kicking
his business partner. The smooth way in which the
Captain cleared his own skirts, by shifting the blame
to his innocent victim, was characteristically diplo-
matic, but mighty provoking. And he "hoped" it
wouldn't make any difference I
The Subscription Ball, extras and all, came to an
end at three o'clock. By this time Bradley was once
more repentant and humble. When Gus came out
of the cloak-room he went to meet her, resolved to
abase himself and plead again for forgiveness.
"Gus," he stammered, "Gus — I — I — mayn't I
walk hcMne with you ? You know I "
But, as Bradley's anger had cooled, his fiancee's
had risen. No detail of the flirtation with the Rogers
girl had escaped her.
"Thank you," she answered, and every word was
crusted with ice; "Mr. Hammond was gentleman
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THE "SUBSCRIPTION BALL" 281
enough to escort me here and I presume he will see
me home."
Bradley accompanied Miss Rogers to the parental
gate. It wasn't a hilarious walk. "Die young lady
said to her older sister later on ;
"Julia, I honestly believe he didn't speak one word
from the time he left the hall till he said good-night.
I had to talk for two, or I should have gone to sleep
on the way. He may be good-looking enough, but
Gus Baker can have him for all me. Pd as soon come
home with a wooden Indian."
And Bradley, in his own chamber, stared out of
the window at the light in Gus' room and vowed that
he would not get down on his knees to that young lady
again ; let her have her New York gentleman if she
wanted him. Then he thought of that other dance
and how happy he had been because she had given
him the waltz that Sam asked for. And he went to
bed utterly miserable.
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THE DIVING BELLE.
THE next morning he was more miserable
still, having had time to think it over. But
he resolved that no one should guess his
feelings from his appearance. Therefore, he was, at
the breakfast-table, outwardly calm, although a little
more quiet than usual.
The "old maids" were loaded with questions about
the ball, and began firing them at him and at Clara
as soon as the grace was said. They wanted to know
who was there, what they had for supper, and espe-
cially all about the ladies' gowns.
"Did Elviry Bailey wear that new black net of
herst" asked Miss Prissy. "She's talked about noth-
in' else, so they tell me, for the last month. How'd
she look in it, Bradley? Was It becomin'?"
sst
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE DIVING BELLE 283
Now Mrs. Bailey might have been robed in purple
and gold for all that Bradley knew to the contrary,
but he promptly replied that the black net looked very
well, he thought.
"I s'pose Georgiana had on her blue silk and wax
beads, didn't she?" MissTempy queried.
"Yes, I believe so."
Clara laughed. "Why, no, she didn't, Bradley I"
she exclaimed; "Georgiana wore her green cash-
mere."
"There I" burst out Miss Tempy, "if that ain't
jest like a man! We used to ask father about
what the women folks over in London, or Bom-
bay, or Surinam wore and he couldn't tell any
more'n a cat, and he'd seen 'em time and time again.
Well, we'll have to find out about the dresses from
you, Clara. Tell us who danced with who, Brad-
ky."
"Yes," said the older sister. "But we won't ask
who you danced with; I shouldn't be surprised if we
could guess that."
Miss Prissy accompanied this sagacious remaric
with a sly chuckle. Miss Tempy joined in the chuckle
- and nodded wisely. Clara smiled, but she looked at
Bradley with an odd expression. As for the young
man, he, too, tried to smile, but it was a poor at-
tempt.
"Was Cap'n Ezra there?'* asked Miss Tempy,
after a moment's silence.
"Yes, he was there."
"She I I want to know I I s'pose," with elaborate
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284 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
unconcern, "he danced with the married folks,
mostly ?"
Bradley didn't answer. He was stirring his coffee
in an absent way, and his face was very solemn. So
Miss Tempy turned to Clara.
"No use talkin' to him this momin'," she ob-
served; "he's dreamin', I guess. Who did you dance
with, Clara?"
"Oh, with Bennie and some of the others," the
young lady replied, promptly. "Bennie's getting
along splendidly at dancing-school; he waltzes very
nicely now,"
Bradley had little appetite. He drank his coffee,
and then, with an excuse that he was in a hurry, left
the table and, putting on his cap, went out.
He was, to all appearances, in high spirits when
he reached the wharf. He dreaded meeting Captain
Titcomb and Hammond, but he made up his mind
they shouldn't know it. So he chatted with Barney
and Peleg, laughed loudly at the flimsiest jokes, and
whistled as he stood at the Lizzie's wheel and steered
her out of the harbor. But if he was afraid of being
questioned by the Captain or sneered at by Sam, he
need not have been. Mr. Hammond, possessing wis-
dom of a sort, didn't refer to the previous evening.
The Captain, too, seemed to have forgotten it. He
groaned once or twice over his work at the air-pump,
and, when Bradley asked him if the pump needed
oiling, replied briefly :
" 'Taint the pump that needs ile. It's my j'ints. No
use talkin' I I'm gettin' too much of an antique to trip
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE DIVING BELLE 285
what Sarah Emma Gage calls the 'light and frantic
toe' nineteen times in one night. That last Portland
Fancy with Matildy Wingate pretty nigh sent me to
the scrap heap. Every time we swung partners she'd
slat me clear of the deck and whirl me 'round till I
swan to man if I didn't think my feet would frazzle
out like a masthead pennant in a gale of wind I She
must have thought she was shakin' carpets. I felt
like tellin' her we wan't playin' 'snap the whip.' "
They worked at getting out the tar until three
o'clock, when, at Captain Titcomb's suggestion, they
quit for the day and the Lizzie came back to her
moorings. Then the crew went ashore and the part-
ners shut themselves in the cabin to once more discuss
the project of buying the Diving Belle. The photo-
graphs and sketches were exhibited, the Captaltj
argued and enthused, and Bradley did his best to
forget Gus and to be interested. He succeeded par-
tially.
The junior partner agreed that the Vineyard
Haven schooner was a wonderful bargain, but he dis-
liked the idea of going in debt for a part of her, as it
seemed that they must do.
"You see, Cap'n Ez," he said, "we've got alto-
gether less than four thousand dollars between us if
we, put up every cent we've made. We shall have to
borrow at least another thousand, and I hate to. In
a year, if things go as well as they have, we ought to
be able to build a new vessel and pay for every stick
of her. And yet," he added, "it seems a shame to
let this chance go by."
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286 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
The Captain glanced at his companion and
drummed with his fingers on the table. When he
spoke there was a hesitancy tn his manner.
"We can't let it go by," he said, "we'd never git
another like it. Now, Brad — now, Brad ;" he
stopped and drummed again. Then he went on with-
out looking up. "I don't know's I mentioned this
afore, but all my money ain't been put into this
wreckin' deal yit. You see, I own some shares in that
big cranb'ry bog of the OstaWe folks. Must be about
fifteen hundred dollars' wuth altogether. I cal'late,
maybe, I ain't spoke of this to you afore, have I?"
"Well, no I you haven't," answered the astonished
Bradley, drily.
"No. I presume likely it — er — must have slipped
my mind. Well, I'll sell the bog shares and p^it up
what's needed to finish buyin' the Divtn' Belle. You
can pay off your part as we earn Jt. Is it a go ?"
The junior partner paused before replying. This
matter of the cranberry swamp money was a most
surprising revelation. The Captain's previous silence
concerning it was exactly in keeping with his old char-
acter, the character of the skipper of the Thomas
Doane, and a phase that had been erowini? less and
lless evident of late. However, Bradley did not feel
justified in refusing to accept the offer. It didn't seem
fair to his partner.
"All right," he said, finally; "I'll agree, of course.
If you're willing to risk it, I ought to be."
"Good ! We'll take a day off to-morrcr and go up
to the Haven and look her over."
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THE DIVING BELLE 287
The rest of that afterooon Bradley spent in his
toom, thinking. The more he thought of his own
share in the happenings at the dance, the more
ashamed he was of them. He had acted like a boy;
but then Gus had not behaved well, either. He
mused till supper-ttme and only succeeded In making
himself still more uncomfortable.
It was dark when he came out of the gate that
evening. There was a fog that was almost a driz-
zling rain, and the big silver-leaf dripped and the
fence rails were covered with beady drops. From
the outer beach the sound of the surf came faintly,
like a never-ending groan. A lonely, miserable night;
one that fitted his feelings exactly.
He had intended going to the post-ofBcc after the
expected check, but a little way past the gap In the
Baker fence he stopped and looked back. The light
in the dining-room attracted him in spite of him-
self. Gus, no doubt, was there; reading, perhaps;
perhaps thinking of him. He wondered if she would
be ready to forget and forgive if he came to her and
asked pardon once more. He stood there, struggling
with his pride.
And just then he heard some one walking toward
him from the direction of the village. He had no
wish to meet acquaintances and so drew back under
the Saunders' lilac bushes. A man, with his coat
collar turned up, went by rapidly. It was too dark
to see well, but Bradley was surprised to hear the foot-
steps go up the path to the door of that very dining-
room the window of which he had been watching.
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288 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
The visitor knocked. An interval; then the door
opened and Gus stood there, a silhouette against the
light.
"Why, good evening, Saml" Bradley heard her
say. "Is this you? Come in; I'm glad to see you."
A minute later and Bradley was on his way to the
post-oj£ce. He had been a fool long enough. This,
he determined, should end it.
The partners started for Vineyard Haven in tht
early morning. The Captain talked most of the way,
for which Bradley was thankful; he didn't feel like
talking. They found the Diving Belle lying at the
wharf, and Captain Titcomb watched his companion's
face as they stood on the stringpiece looking down at
her. '
"Well, son," he observed after a short silence,
"what do you think of her? The tintype don't flatter
her none, does it?"
Bradley's answer was enthusiastic enough to satisfy
even Captain Titcomb. "By jiminyl" exclaimed the
junior partner; "she's a daisyl If her inside is as
good as her outside, she's the best five thousand dol-
lars' worth I ever saw."
And, when the examination was concluded, he said,
"Let's hunt up that lawyer without wasting another
minute. I'm only afraid that he'll forget your option
and sell her before we get there."
They found the lawyer and signed the papers. It
remained only to bring over the check and take away
the schooner. And this they did a week later. Mean-
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THE DIVING BELLE 289
■while Captain Titcomb had performed another mira-
cle. He had hunted up a man who had expressed a
desire to purchase the Lizzie, and, after two days of
bargaining, during which time the Captain had twice
pretended to give it up and return to Orham, had sold
him the old schooner for seven hundred and fifty dol-
lars. Also he sold his shares in the cranberry b<^.
There was a good-sized crowd of townspeople on
the Orham wharf when the Diving Belle slid smooth-
ly past the harbor mouth and up to her moorings.
There was a splendid breeze, but they wouldn't have
used the sails for any consideration. The sight of the
moving pistons In that wonderful sixteen horse-power
engine, the enchanting smell of the gasoline, the muf-
fled drumming of the propeller under the stem — these
were bran-new, unadulterated joys of proprietorship
that no mere Item like the saving of unnecessary ex-
pense could induce them to forfeit.
The "old maids" and Clara were among the crowd
on the wharf. They were shown over the new vessel
and their admiration was outspoken.
"It's beautiful I" exclaimed Miss Prissy, referring
to the engine. "I declare, Bradley, I shall come
aboard every night and sec that you keep that trass-
work shined up the way it ought to be. I'll let you
take some of my silver polish, like I use for the best
teapot, and a piece of chamois. I never saw a man
yet that I'd trust to clean a kitchen knife, let alone a
lovely thing like that. Now don't use sand-soap and
a rag and get it all scratched up."
"And to think," cried Miss Tempy, "that Cap'n
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290 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Titcomb owns ha'f of her and our Bradley the other
ha'fl Why, it's jest like havin* her in the fam'ly.
I'm so proud I don't know's I shall speak to common
folks after this."
The others laughed at this outburst, but Bradley
was silent. He was thinking that it was only a few
weeks before that Gus had said that she was so proud
of him.
The Diving Belle was a spoiled child for the next
fortnight. Her owners and her crew — all but Sam
Hammond, and even he was condescending enough to
call her a "nice little thing of her size" — handled her
as if she was made of cut glass. Peleg brought Skee-
zicks aboard on purpose to display her beauties to
that educated pup, who seemed to appreciate them,
especially the galley stove. Bill Taylor was cooking
at the time, and the stove was red-hot, so Skeezicks
promptly crawled beneath it, but even there he shiv-
ered.
Captain Ezra put in the most of his spare time "im-
proving" the new purchase. Bradley told him it seem-
ed like the Thomas Doane days to smell paint and
trip over a bucket of water and a swab every little
while.
"Yes," was the Captain's reply, "but then I was
fixin' up somebody else's property; now I'm fussin'
with my own. It's as difF'rent as boardin' and keepin'
house. I remember seein' Solon Snow fryin' flapjacks
one time when him and his brother 'Rastus was fishin'
at the P'int and 'twas Solon's week to cook. Solon
would toss the flapjacks up with the frytn* pan to turn
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THE DIVING BELLE 291
*eni over. Sometimes he caught 'em when they come
down, sometimes he didn't. Them that fell on the
floor he put in 'Rastus's plate. That's the diff'rence
between workin' for yourself and for somebody else,
Brad. What d'you think of puttin' a gilt stripe
'round the top of the deck house ?"
The gilt stripe was added to the house, as were also
sundry other decorations to various parts of the
schooner. But the lock on the cabin door was the
particular addition upon which the Captain prided
himself.
Orham was just then in the throes of a burglar
scare. Two houses in the village had been broken
into and the natives were talking of calling an indig-
nation meeting for the purpose of expressing their
opinion of the Selectmen. Then a steam yacht, be-
longing to a summer resident, which lay, housed over
for winter in the harbor, was boarded and ransacked.
It was oivfhe day following this robbery that Cap-
Cain Titcomb began tinkering with the cabin door.
This door and the sliding hatch above it had been
fastened with a padlock. The Captain's first move
was to block the hatch so that It would slide back but
a little way. Then he sawed and hammered away at
the door.
"There!" he cried, in triumph, after two hours of
hard work. "Brad, come here I S'pose one of them
mean sneak thieves tries to bust into that cabin. He
can pry the staple off that padlock easy, can't he?
Yes, but the way that hatch is now 'twon't open fur
enough for him to climb down ; he's got to open that
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292 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
door. And that door's got on it a three dollar patent
lock that can't be opened without the key, and no ten
cent, whistle-down-the-barrel key neither. The key
that'll open that has lace edgin' on it ; you hear mel
And I've todc off the knob on the inside of the lock,
80 it can't be worked that way. Now when we want
to go home we haul to the hatch and lock it with the
padlock. Then we jest slam the door. Click 1 There
you are I A spring lock; how's that for high? Thun-
deration! I've left the key Inside I"
Luckily the key was lying on the top step of the
cabin stairs, and they were able to reach it with a Bsh-
hook on the end of a stick. But that was only the
beginning of the trouble with that wonderful burglar-
proof spring lock. The key was always getting lost,
or being left at home in the Captain's "other pants."
As he would trust it to no one else, the difficulities
that arose were numberless. Once Alvin Bearse re-
mained a prisoner in the cabin for half a day, having
to wait until the Diving Belle reached the wharf and
the key could be sent for.
Getting up the tar, with the aid of the patent wind-
lass and the engine, was simply fun. They took out
all they could bring up through the hatchway, and
then began blowing out the side of the hull with dyna-
mite. The explosive was stored In the Diving Bellas
hold, forward, behind a bulkhead with only one small
manhole in it, and was carefully boxed in to prevent
accident.
Bradley's whole Interest in life now centred in his
work. Gus he had not spoken with since the night of
DiqilizDdbyGoOgIC
THE DIVING BELLE 293
the dance; had, m fact, only seen her at a distance.
Sam, while on board the schooner, was pleasant and,
to all appearances, as friendly as Bradley would let
him be, but from Captain Jabez, and from other con-
siderate and gossip-loving souls, the junior partner
learned that Hammond was now a regular caller at
the Baker cottage. Tactful Captain Tltcomb never
mentioned Gus, and the "old maids," though they
must have been aware that their boy no longer visited
the house next door, knew better than to question him.
At times Bradley was tempted to give it all up and
go away. He could not forget, try as hard as he
might. But consideration for his partner, and his
own pride, kept him at home. She should never know
how much he cared, and Sam and the rest should not
have the satisfaction of crowing over his running
away.
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CHAPTER XVI
THE captain's GAMBLE.
OCTOBER had been a month of exceptimially
pleasant weather, but, in the night of No-
vember first, Bradley woke to feel the old
house trembling and to hear the rain thundering on
the roof overhead and rattling against the windows.
The wind screamed in the chimney, and In the lulls the
battered weather-vane on the barn creaked and
whined. It was comfortable In bed and he lay there
listening to the storm and remembering that Peleg
had been hinting at the coming of dirty weather.
Drowsily he wondered if there would be any wrecks
along shore.
While he was dressing next morning he heard
29*
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE CAPTAIN'S GAMBLE 295
voices in the road below, and opening the window saw
Jim Rogers, the fish peddler, sitting in his wagon with
the rain sluicing from the peak of his sou'wester and
carrying on a shouted conversation with Mrs. Baker.
"What did you say 'twas, Mr. Rogers?" screamed
the old lady, speaking through the closed blinds of
her chamber window.
"The Freedom; big six-masted coal barge. She's
high and dry on the Razorback. Hawser parted.
The tug's tryin' to git her off now, but Cap'n Knowles
telephoned Sam Hardy that 'twan't no use."
"Do tell! It's been a hard storm. One of our
henhouse shutters has blown off. Oh, Mr. Rogers!
fetch a quart of clams 'round to the back door and
leave 'em on the steps, won't you ? I'll pay you next
time you call."
Bradley didn't hear the last part of this conversa-
tion. He was struggling into his clothes. Only Miss
Prissy was up when he came downstairs, and she pro-
tested strongly against his going without breakfast.
He compromised by hastily swallowing a slice of
bread and butter, and then, putting on his oilskins,
ran out of the house and down the road.
They were talking about it everywhere. Caleb
Weeks, who was taking down the shutters of his store,
called as Bradley splashed past :
"She's a good job for somebody," was Caleb's hail.
"Too big for you and Er though, I'm 'fraid."
"Squealer" Wixon met him a little further on.
"Knowles says she's hard and fast," said Squealer.
"The tug's goin' to give it up. They're telephonin'
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296 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Cook now. The Boston Salvage C(»npany'll git her
off, or try to, I cal'late."
Bradley's objective point was the post-office. He
wanted to sec Hardy and learn the particulars. But
Captain Titcomb was there before him ; they met at
the door. The Captain's eyes were shining.
"Come on, Brad!" he said. "I was jest goin' to
send for you. I know all about it."
He told the story as they walked to the wharf in
the pouring rain. It was as Rogers had said; the
great barge, twin sister of the Liberty, was on her
way from Boston to New York under tow. The storm
had come up unexpectedly and the hawser had parted.
Now she was fast on the Razorback shoal.
"Crimusteel" exclaimed the Captain. "Won't she
be a job I Brad I Brad I if you and me could only have
the chance 1"
Alvin Bearse, who boarded nowadays at the house
of a relative in Orham, was already on board the Div-
ing Belie when the partners reached her.
"I've been expectin' you," he said. "Steam's up."
The trip down was a rough one, even while they
were in the bay. But when they turned Setuckit Point
and stood out over the rips the Diving Belle climbed
one great wave after another, coasting down their
greenish-gray slopes like a chip, and pouring salt
water from her scuppers in a steady stream.
Even before they reached the Point they saw the
six masts of the barge over the low sand dunes against
the rain-streaked sky. Now, as they drew nearer to
the shoal, she loomed larger and larger. Her high
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THE CAPTAIN'S GAMBLE 297
Slack sides, with the rollers breaking against them,
looked like those of a mammoth whale, and the little
tug, puffing and rocking a short distance away, like a
baby beside its mother.
"She's hard and fast for sure," muttered Captain
Titcomb. "Five thousand tons of coal inside of her
and this no'theaster drivin' her further on every min-
ute — I swan to man, Brad! she's there for awhile!
No tug — nor three tugs, fur's that goes — can haul her
off. 'Member what I said when the Liberty come so
near landin* where she is ? It's an anchor and cable
job and we can do that as well as anybody and cheaper
than the big fellers. If they'll only let us try 1 By
crimustee I they've got to 1"
That evening the train brought representatives
of three large wrecking companies to Orham. The
younger Mr. Cook came also. The partners saw him,
but he would give them no satisfaction. "You must
come to Boston to-morrow if you want to bid," he
said. "But I tell you frankly, price isn't the only
thing; we must be satisfied that the job can be carried
through." It was evident that he didn't believe they
could handle It.
But Bradley and the Captain were certain they
could handle it if the chance was given them. Sev-
enty men, at least, would be needed, and to house and
feed them was the problem. The Boston Salvage
Company had lighters and barges for this purpose,
and they had not. But there was the big shanty at
the Point, the one in which the picnic had been held.
Thirty men had lived and slept there before. By
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298 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
building new bunka and slinging hammodcs, twice
that number, at least, could find room. The rest must
occupy other shanties or come up to Orham at night.
The partners schemed and figured until nearly four
o'clock in the morning.
One of them must go to Boston that day. The
Captain said Bradley ought to go because Cook knew
him, but the junior partner didn't agree.
"You go, Cap'n Ez," he said, with decision.
"You're a better bargainer than I am, and it'll take a
good talker and a clever trader to land this job In the
face of the cCHnpetitlon. Go, and good luck be with
you!"
So the Captain went on the first train. He prom-
ised to telegraph as soon as a decision was reached.
But no telegram came that day. All the next fore-
noon Bradley hung about the station waiting. The
noon train arrived; no Captain, and still no word.
But, after supper, as the anxious young man walked
up to meet the evening train, it was evident that some-
body knew something.
Obed Nickerson was standing on die comer.
"Brad," he said. Then, in a low tcme, "Brad, J
wouldn't stand for it if I was you. You're a partner
as much as he is, and I wouldn't let him drag me into
such a fool deal. I like you, and, fur's that goes, 1
like Ez ; but he's crazy. Say no, and put your foot
"What are you talking about?" asked Bradley \n
astonishment.
"What? Don't you know? Why — well, then. I
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THE CAPTAIN'S GAMBLE 299
ain't goin' to tell you. Only you take my advice and
say no; that's all."
Obed's puzzling advice made Bradley feel even '
more uneasy. He determined to wait until the train
arrived, and then, if the Captain didn't come, to tele-
graph to the United States Hotel. But the first man
off the train was Captain Titcomb.
The Captain shook his partner's hand and said,
"Hello I" He looked very tired — yes, and worried.
"Didn't get it, hey?" asked Bradley. "Well, I
hardly dared think you would."
"Oh, I got it! Yes, I got it I"
"You did/ Glory hallelujah I"
"Um — hum. Now don't ask any more questions
here. Come on down to my room."
He was silent all the way to the Traveller's Rest,
and, for a man who had just secured the greatest con-
tract of his business life, seemed strangely downcast.
When they reached the room he locked the door and
threw his overcoat and hat on the sofa.
"Now " began Bradley, but the Captain held
up his hand.
"Set down," he said. "It's a long yam. Got a
cigar in your clothes? Thanks."
He lit the cigar and, twisting it into the comer of
his mouth, began to talk.
"'Well," he said slowly, "I made Boston all right,
and stood for Cook and Son's under full canvas. I
hailed the young squirt with the hay on his upper lip
and asked him if the old man was in. 'What do you
want to see him for ?' says he. 'Son,' says I, 'you trot
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300 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
along like a good little boy and tell the old man that
the feller that's goln' to git the Freedom off Orham
shoal is out here.' That kind of fetched him over
with a slat, and he went in and told Cook. In a min-
ute out he comes and pilots me into the skipper's state-
room.
"I cal'late Cook was expectin' to see another feller.
'Are you from the Salvage Company?' says he. 'No,'
says I, takin' a chair; 'my name's Titcomb. I'm from
Orham. My partner's a young feller name of Nick-
erson ; he's the one you picked out to lift the Liberty's
anchor that time.' Well, that way of puttin' it made
him laugh and he told me to go ahead and spin my
yam, only be quick. I spun it, but I ain't sartin that
I was quick. I never talked so afore in my life,
though I've beat it Mice sence. When I hove anchor
fin'Uy, he says, 'Cap'n, there's nothin' the matter with
your nerve, is there ?' I told him no, I hadn't had to
take physic for it. 'Well,' says he, 'I'd like to give
you the job, but you ain't big enough. This ain't
anchor-draggin'.'
"Then I got after him again, told him about the
new schooner, drew a diagram of the shoal and made
it plain jest how she'd got to be got off if 'twas done
at all, and that we could do it as well as anybody else
in the world and a whole lot cheaper. At last he told
me to come in and see htm again late that afternoon.
"I was 'round on time, you bet 1 The hay-lip chap
told me the old man had gone for the day, but that
he'd left word that 'twas no use, our firm wan't big
enough for the job. Says I to hay-lip, 'Where's the
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THE CAPTAIN'S GAMBLE 301
old man live ?' He didn't know, bein' a good liar. I
asked him, in an interested sort of way, if he was dead
sure where he lived himself, and went out to paw over
the directory. Inside of an hour I was on an electric
car bound for Brookline.
"Talk about houses 1 Those Cooks live in a place
that makes Barry's, down on the clil! road, look like
Peleg's shanty. I sailed up forty fathom of front
steps and hove taut on the bell. A darky, witfi more
brass buttons than the skipper of a Cunarder, come to
the door. Says he, 'Your card, please.' Says I, 'Never
mind the card; Mr. Cook had an app'intment with
me this afternoon.' Which was true, you'll notice.
So he steered me into a room that was as full of
pictures as a museum, and there I set on the edge
of a velvet chair and tried to look as if I was used
to it.
"Pretty soon down comes Cook, in a swaller-tail
coat. He looked mad. 'Is it you ?' he says. 'Didn't
you git my message?' I told him I'd got it, but that
'twouldn't be fair to him to let that end it. I said
that on purpose, 'cause I jedged, from what you'd
said and what I'd seen myself, that the way to git on
with him was to be independent. He grinned and
then I commenced to talk. And how I did talk! The
momin' sermon wan't within a mile of the evenin'
service. I told him flat-footed how much the contract
meant to us and all that. Pretty soon young Cook
come in and he listened, too.
*'Fin'lly the old man says, 'We!!, Titcomb, what*s
your figger?' I told him what you and me had agreed
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302 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
on. He seemed surprised, I thought. Then he and
his son went into the next room and talked. When
they come back, he says, 'Titcomb, you've got the per-
severance of the devil — or that partner of yours.'
(Put you in good company, hey, Brad?) 'Your price,
I don't mind tellin' you,' he goes on, 'is lower than
anyone else has given. If you were a bigger concern
I guess I'd give the job to you. Anyway, you come in
and see me to-morrcr.'
"Well, this momin' I was at his office when the
doors opened. And there I set until after two this
afternoon. A feller from the Salvage Company come
in while I was there, and so did one from the South
Boston tug people. They went into Cook's room and
come out again. Fin'lly the old man sent for me.
He and his son were there together. 'Titcomb,' says
he, 'I'm a fool and I know it, but I'm goin' to let you
try to git the Freedom clear.' "
Bradley, who had listened rather impatiently to
this long yam, struck the table with his hand.
"Great I" he cried. "Cap'ii Ez, you're a wonder 1
Shake hands 1"
But the Captain did not shake. Instead he looked
at the floor. "Wait a minute, Brad," he observed.
"That wan't all he said. He went on to tel! me that
in givin' us the job he was riskin' a bran-new vessel
worth eighty thousand dollars. 'Mind,' he says, 'I
b'lieve you can do it if anybody can, but I won't risk
another cent. I won't pay by the day, I'll give you
fifteen thousand when she's off the shoal and towed to
Boston ; but I won't pay a red until she is. It's got to
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE CAPTAIN'S GAMBLE 303
be a contract job, payment on delivery of the
goods.' "
Bradley's fact fell. "Of course that settled it," he
said. "You couldn't accept such an idiotic offer as
that."
Captain Ezra took his cigar from his mouth.
"Well, Brad," he answered, soberly, "that*s what I
did; I accepted It."
The junior partner sprang from his chair. "Good
Lord above!" he cried. "Man, you're crazyl"
"Well now, Brad "
"Well now, Cap'n Ez 1 Look here ! you and I have
put almost our last copper into the new schooner.
We've got practically no ready money. We must hire
from seventy to one hundred men at three dollars a
day and pay them every week. We must feed 'em.
We must spend money fitting up the shanty to lodge
'em in. It'll take, maybe, a month before we get her
clear — if w» do clear her. We may have to spend five
or six thousand before then. Where's the money com-
ing from?"
"I know all that. We'll mortgage the Diving Belle
and raise the cash."
"Are you out of your head? We've been lucky so
far and haven't had a failure. But failures are bound
to ccnne. Suppose we work on this barge for a month
and then a heavy gale strikes— as it's likely to strike
any time now ; just the season for it. The Freedom
couldn't stand one real November gale on that shoal ;
she'd break up or pound the bottom out of her. Then
we've lost all we've spent; the schooner would be
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
304 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
taken to pay the mortgage, and you and I — ^where
would we be?"
"But, Brad, think of what it means to as if we
make good."
"Think of what it means if we don'tl The end of
Titcomb and Nickerson ; that's sure."
"But they'll have had a nm for their money. Loc^
here, sonl 'Twan't kindness and love for you and
me that made Cook and Son give us this contract.
'Twas 'cause our price was low and 'cause they know
mighty welt we can do it jest as well as the biggest
concern on earth. It*s anchors and cables, not big
tugs and lighters, that'll work ofF that barge. Cook
says heave the coal overboard; don't try to save it."
"Cap'n Ez, we got that job because nobody else
would take it that way. We can do it if anybody can,
but nobody else would be fool enough to gamble
against the Lord Almighty's weather^ We'd be called
fools from here to Provincetown." .
"Not if we win out, we wouldn't."
"Well, it's ridiculous and I say no."
The Captain drew a long breath. "All right," he
said, gloomily. "Maybe you're right, Brad. It is a
crazy gamble, I s'pose, and I was afraid you'd see it
that way. Only you must make up your mind to this :
if we give up this chance we must settle back and be
^nothin' but anchor-draggers the rest of our lives.
We've flunked once, and, no matter how good the
reason is, no more big jobs'll come our way. But, if
we make good — whew 1"
Now it was Bradley's turn to hesitate. There was
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE CAPTAIN'S GAMBLE 305
some sense in what his partner said. But it was play-
ing against odds and with the last dollar on the table.
Obed Nickerson had given him a hint of what the
townsfolk would think of it.
The Captain noticed the hesitation. "I've done
nothin' but go over the thing sence I left Cook's
office," he said. "But, the way I'm built, I'd rather
go back to the coastin' trade than be a cne>hoss
wrecker. Either I'll be the real thing or nothin', and
I'm ready to take the chance. But you're ha'f owner
— or pretty nigh ha'f — and what you say goes."
It was that pretty nigh that influenced Bradley.
He realized that all he was, in a business sense, he
owed to the Captain. And the latter had more money
invested in the company than he had. Then, too, the
thought of Gus came to him. It was for her that he
had worked and hoped and planned. Now that she
didn't care, why should he care either? He sat still,
thinking, and the Captain, too, was silent.
Suddenly Bradley spoke. "Oh, hang it I what's the
odds?" he exclaimed, recklessly. "Go ahead, Cap'nl
I'll sink or swim with you !"
Captain Ezra grasped his hand. "I swore you
would," he cried. "Son, this Job's goin' to make us 1"
Bradley's laugh was short and rather bitter.
"Yes," he said, "make — or break."
by Google
CHAPTER XVII.
WORK AND WORRY.
IT was close to daybreak when the partners sepa-
rated. They had planned and figured and
estimated, and each now knew what his part
in the great fight was to be. As he was leaving
Bradley asked the Captain how, in his opinion, Obed
Nickerson had learned that they had the contract.
" 'Phoned the Salvage Company," replied Captain
Ezra, decidedly. "I'll bet on it. You see. Brad, this
job's a big one and the Salvage folks might have fig-
gered there was sugar enough in it to drop a lump in
by Google
'^ORK AND fVORRY 307
friend Obed's teacup providin' he stirred up their
spoon. Well, good night — or good momin', rather.
It's double or quits with us this time, son, for sartin,
but if Titcomb and Nickerson do go under it'll be
with colors flyin'."
Within the week Setuckit Point, from a lonely,
gull-haunted sand spit, inhabited only by the life sav-
ing crew and the lighthouse keeper and his family,
became a small town, the population of which left
each morning for the Razorback shoal and returned
at night to sleep and eat in the big shanty and those
surrounding it.
Captain Titcomb saw the people at the Wellmouth
Bank and placed a mortgage on the Dhing Belle. As
the partners owned her free and clear, he was able to
get her cost price, five thousand dollars.
Placards announdng that men were wanted at
once, and at three dollars a day and board, were hung
in the post-offices and railway stations In Orham,
South Orham, West Harniss, Hamiss Centre, Well-
mouth and other towns. Also an advertisement ap-
peared in the Item. The response was immediate.
Work at good wages was scarce in the winter months
and men came from twenty miles away to obtain it.
The Diving Belle carried them down to the Point.
There, under Barney Small's supervision, some set to
work building extra bunks in the big shanty, slinging
hammocks, putting up stoves — the partners bought
five second-hand ranges — and making three neighbor-
ing abandoned fishing huts inhabitable. The rest
worked over the stranded coal barge, getting out the
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
308 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
anchors, stripping her of all unnecessary iron work
and rigging, and preparing to bring the coal from her
hold and dump it overboard.
Seventy men were hired altogether, and to feed
them it was necessary to buy large quantities of pro-
visions. Captain Titcomb managed this part of the
business and the bargains he made with Caleb Weeks
and other storekeepers were wonderful, and, In some
cases, not too profitable for the sellers. As Mr. Weeks
said: "Ez Titcomb spent ha'f the forenoon with me
to-day, and afore he got through talkin' he'd tangled
me up so with figgers that I don't know whether I sold
him salt at a cent a pound or corn meal at a dollar a
barrel. I'll have to put in the rest of the day cai'latin'
and addin' up, so's to know whether I've made money
or lost it."
Soon the work cm the Freedom was in full swing
and the great hull hummed like a bee-hive. Men
were standing by the hatches and by the derricks.
Men were working by the rail transferring ropes and
ironwork to the Diving Belle. Down In the hold
gangs of men, with faces sooty black except where the
sweat streaked them with pallid channels, were shov-
aJiing the coal into the big iron buckets that the creak-
ing derricks lifted and swung over the side. The
donkey engines pufEed and whistled, the chains rat-
tled, and ton after ton of good hard coal roared fr<Hn
the opening buckets and splashed into the tumbling
waves of the channel.
The Captain and Bradley, together for a moment,
stood in the bows, where the heavy cable led, taut and
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
frORK AND WORRY 309
ngid, from the windlass, out to the submerged an-
chors. The Freedom had moved slightly in the last
few days and the partners were encouraged.
"By crimus, Brad I" exclaimed Captain Titcomb,
pointing with a grin on his grimy face, to the stout
little Diving Belle just then shooting off to the Point
with a load of strippings from the Freedom; "that's
the litde critter that has made it possible for us to
handle this job. I don't know what we'd a-done if we
hadn't had her. See her go, will you ? Flies 'round
like a flea in a fryin' pan, don't she? You never put
your money into anything better for the size than her,
pnd don't you let that fact slip your mem'ry."
The new schooner had proved her worth twice
ever. Equipped as she was, with the engine, she per-
formed the part of a steam launch, a tug and a ferry-
boat. She had carried out and dropped the anchors
in the channel ; she took her owners and a few of the
hands to and from Orham every night and morning;
she was always ready and always useful. In fact, as
the Captain said, they could scarcely have handled the
job without her.
Bradley, dirty and bareheaded, looked at the little
vessel.
"I shan't feel easy until we pay off that mortgage,"
he said. "And, another thing, you mustn't forget to
see Obed and close that insurance deal. It worries me
to think she is not protected at all."
"That's so. Fact is, I've been so everlastin' busy
lately that I'd foi^t to eat If I hadn't got in the habit
of it. But I must settle that right off. The only
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
310 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
thing that's kept it from goin' through afore is on ac-
count of that dynamite in the hold. The papers
are ready, only Obed won't dicker until we take
- that stuff ofE; his comp'ny won't insure against ex-
plosives."
A little of the dynamite that they had been using In
blowing up the hulk containing the tar was still stared
in the Diving Belle's hold. Captain Titcorab had
promised to see that it was taken ashore, but he al-
ways forgot it. Bradley would, himself, have at-
tended to the matter, but the Captain seemed to take
the offer as a personal reflection on his own manage-
ment. It was the same with the insurance. Anything
that the Captain undertook to do he hated to give up
to another.
"Don't you want me to attend to that dynamite?"
asked the junior partner.
"No, no ; I'll 'tend to it myself. Told you I wouldj
didn't I?"
Bradley saw that it was time to change the subject.
He looked across the ocean to the horizon. The air
was clear and cold and the November sunlight lay
upon the water with a steely metallic glitter that had
no warmth in it.
"Wind to the south'ard," he observed, "and seems
likely to hold that way. If it only holds fair long
enough we'll win out yet."
"Where's that special weather bureau of ours?"
asked the Captain. "Ain't had a prophecy for two
days or more." He stepped to the hatchway. "Hi I
Peleg 1" he shouted. "Peleg Myrick, ahoy I"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
WORK AND WORK Y 311
A distant voice from the hold replied that Peleg
was aboard the Diving Belle.
"That's so," said Captain Titcomb. "So he Is.
Well, we'll see him later."
When the schooner again ran alongside the barge
Mr. Myrick was summoned and clambered on
board. The weather prophet had coal dust in
his nostrils, in his mouth, and in decorative
smouches on his cheeks. As for his whiskers, the
red and gray had disappeared; they were now a solid
black.
"Peleg," observed the Captain, "does Skeezicks
know you when you git home nowadays?"
"Know me?" repeated the astonished owner of the
dog that was just like a human. "tCnow me! Course
he docs."
"Well, I didn't know. You look so much like a
cross between a darky and a Kickapoo Sagwa peddler
in his war paint that I shouldn't think your mother'd
know you, let alone a dog."
Mr. Myrick pondered. "Well, you see," he replied
slowly, "mother she's been dead for a consider'ble
spell, and Skeezicks "
"Skeezicks ain't. I see. That's the best reason I
know of. Say I how about gales? Got any marked
on the calendar?"
The prophet's dreamy gaze wandered mournfully
to the sky.
"No," he drawled; "I drai't cal'late there'll be a
storm for the next week. After that — ^wall, I don't
know. I've been havin' a feelin' that the weather'd
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
3 1 a PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
shift, but p'raps 'tvon't. Still, I'm kind of scart —
kind of scart of the week after next."
Captain Titcomb looked troubled. "Thunder I**
he muttered. "I swan I hope that ain't so I"
Bradley looked at him in puzzled surprise.
"Now, honest, Cap'n Ez," he exclaimed. "You
aren't worried because that haHF-baked chap says —
here, Pelegl come back here a minute. Say, how do
you get your tips on the weather?"
Mr. Myrick hesitated and looked troubled.
"Wall" he replied, "I — I — you see, I don't gin'rally
tell that 'cause folks laugh at me. But, bein' as you're
my boss, I s'pose I ought to tell you a little. You see,
I jest sort of feci it in my bones."
"Any particular btmes?"
"Why, my laig bones mostly. If a no'theaster's
comin' my right laig sort of aches, and if it's a sou'-
easter it'll fetch me in the left one. Then there's
other "
Bradley interrupted him by a roar of laughter. The
prophet lodced hurt.
"There I" he sighed. "I knew you'd lafF."
"All right, Pelcg; trot along. There, Cap'n Ez,
does that satisfy you?"
The Captain laughed, too, but he shook his head.
"I don't know," he replied. "Them leg bones of
Peleg's seem to have been pretty good barometers
afore now. Well, what is to be will be, as the fellow
with dyspepsy said when he tackled the mince pie.
My I this won't do for me, nor for vou elthTi
Brad."
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
fFORK AND WORRY 313
They separated to plunge again into their work.
But Bradley's bint about the dynamite still troubled
Captain Titcomb's conscience. When the Diving Belle
came back from her next trip to the beach he hailed
Peleg, and, calling him to him, said:
"Peleg, I've got a job for you. I want you to git
out that dynamite we've got in the hold for'ard, and
take it ashore some'ercs."
Now, that dynamite was Mr. Myrick's particular
dread. He was more afraid of it than he was of any-
thing else on earth. The Captain knew this, and that
was why he always selected Peleg to bring up a stick
of the stuff when the latter was needed, "It's the
scared man that's always careful," said the skipper.
"Peleg hangs to them sticks like a sucker to a bam
door. He won't drop 'em, unless his knee j'ints rattle
loose altogether from nervousness."
When the weather prophet heard the Captain's or-
der the visible parts of his countenance turned white.
"Oh, my soul and body!" he gasped. "You don't
want me to tech them pesky things, do you, Cap'n
Ez ? Git somebody else ; do I"
"No," replied the skipper, gravely. "I wouldn't
trust nobody else. Tumble 'em out I"
"Tumble 'em out I Don't talk in that careless kind
of way, Cap'n Ez. What'll I do with 'em?"
"Oh! dig a hole and bury 'em; put 'em under your
bunk in the shanty; feed 'em to Skeezicks; only g^t
'em out of the schooner sometime pretty soon."
"Will — will Sunday do ?"
"Yes, yes ! whenever you have the time. Hi 1 Sam
by Google
314 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Hanimcmd, what are you settin* there for? Git back
to your engine."
Mr. Hammond was still with them, although his
usefulness as a diver was gtme, owing to the tempo-
rary abandonment of the tar venture. But, because
they anticipated returning to this work If the Freedom
should be floated, he was retained at his old wages
and was now running one of the hoisting engines, a
labor with which he was more or less familiar, al-
though he ctmsidered it beneath him and shirked
whenever he could.
This shirking irritated Captain Titcomb.
"Consarn him I" he growled. "Let him rither fish
or cut bait, one or t'other. If he's too good for the
job, why, then, the job's too good for him. If I had
my way we'd come to a settlement in about ha'f a
shake."
The majority of the men hired by the partoers were
intensely loyal and thoroughly optimistic ; they knew
the circumstances under which the contract had been \
taken and would not consider the possibility of failure
for a moment. But Hammond was the head of a
little coterie of pessimists, amwig whom were Henry
Simmons and a few others from Orham, and "Lon"
Clark and "Ike" Bodkin from Hamiss. These croak-
ers sneered at Captain Ezra when his back was turned
and pretended to pity Bradley. When the pay enve-
lopes were distributed they congratulated themselves
loudly and wondered if this time was the last.
Bradley was aware of all this, because Barney told
him, but he would not permit his partner to call Ham-
by Google
/FORK AND fVORRY 315
mond to account. Sam should not have the oppor-
tunity of telling Gus that he was the victim of perse-
cution by an unsuccessful rival; not if Bradley could
help it, he shouldn't. Captain Titcomb understood,
and so Sam was not reproved and grew more and
more intolerable.
All day long the Freedom's deck was a whirl of
industry. The Captain and Bradley were always in
the thick of it, and were dog tired when six o'clock
came. Then the cable was tightened and chocked,
the watch was set and most of the crews were trans-
ferred in relays to the beach, to eat supper in the
shanty and shout, sing and play cards until bedtime.
The partners, with Hammond, Bcarsc and a few
others, went up to Orham in the Diving Belle.
The "old maids" had been very solemn of late.
When Bradley first told them that his firm had se-
cured the biggest wrecking contract ever handled by
Orham men they were jubilant. But then came Miss
Busteed, brimming over — like a sort of living "extra"
— ^with exaggerated reports of village opinion con-
cerning that contract, and the sisters began to worry.
Other callers, whose views were more weighty than
Melissa's, came also, and now even Miss Prissy was
nervously anxious.
Bradley went to bed early nowadays. On the nig^it
following the conversation with Pelcg he took his
lamp from the shelf soon after supper was cleared
away. Captain Titcomb called, but remained only a
litdc while.
&g the young man rose from his chair Miss Prissy,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
3i6 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
who had been watching him over her glasses while
pretending to mend some stoddngs, dropped the work
in her lap, and a^ed, "Bradley, how are you gettin'
on down at the Point?"
"Tip top," was the reply.
"Yes, you always say that; but are you gainin' as
fast as you ought to? You don't think there's any—
any chance of your not beln' able to git that vessel
off, do you ? Folks seem to think "
Bradley laughed. "Has Melissa been here to-
day?" he interrupted.
"No, she hasn't, but Mr, Langworthy has. Oh,
Bradley, we hear such dreadful things. Mr. Lang-
worthy came here almost on purpose to try to git us to
coax you to give it up 'fore it's too late. He says the
whole town thinks you can't carry it through. Men
that know all about wreckin' say "
"Who says — the Jeremiah Club ?" The "Jeremiah
Oub" was Captain Titcomb's name for the daily
gathering about the stove in Weeks' store.
"No, indeed I Men like Cap'n Jonadab Wixon
and Mr. Wingate and lota more. They say that
you've mortgaged your vessel and that if you fail
you'll be ruined — absolutely ruined. They lay It all
,to Cap'n Ezra. Of course Tempy and me stand up
for you and the Cap'n and pretend we ain't a mite
anxious. But, oh Bradley, if any such awful thing
^ould happen to you — to our boy- — ''twould break
our hearts."
Bradley felt a pang of self-reproach. Miss Prlssy's
eyes were wet and the tears were running down Miss
DiqilizDdbyGoOgle
fFORK AND WORRY 317
Tempy's cheeks. He was very grave as he an-
swered.
"Miss Prissy," he said, "please don't worry. I
know how people are talking, but honestly and truly
I think we shall succeed. If we do, it means every-
thing to us. If we don't — well, whatever happens, if
God lets me live, you and Miss Tempy shall never
suffer. I owe everything in- the world to you. I'll
promise you something else, too: If we win out now,
I'll never take another contract where the risk is as
big as this. Now, good night, and to please me, dcHi't
worry any more."
As he was leaving the room Miss Tempy said, tim-
idly, "Bradley, you don't go to praycr-meetin* any
more. Prissy and me pray for you every night. I
hope you won't let your bus'ness crowd out your re-
ligion."
Bi-adley shook his head, answered hurriedly that
he was working hard nowadays and was tired, and
went up to his room. The last time he had been to
prayer-meeting Gus went with him. He had no wish
to go there now, and perhaps see her in Sam's com-
pany.
by Google
J^ CHAPTER XVm.
MR. SAM H.\MMOND.
AT that very moment Mr. Hammond, seated
on the fence by the vestry door, was puffing
at a cigar and talking in an unusually loud
voice of New York and his experiences there. He
seemed to be very happy and his btnsterous laughter
penetrated even to the little company of worshippers
on the settees inside.
When the meeting was over he threw away the
stump of his cigar and shouldered himself into the
front row of waiting swains by the door. As Gus
came out he stepped forward to meet her, and in do-
ing so bumped against Mrs. Piper, who, looking the
other way, had not seen him, and, being deaf, had not
heard his step.
by Google
MR. SAM HAMMOND 319
"Gracious sakes alive 1" exclaimed the old lady,
rubbing her shoulder. "Excuse me, Mr. Hammond,
I didn't sec you."
Sam nodded serenely. "Don't mention it," he
shouted, winking over his shoulder at Georgiana
Bailey. "You didn't hurt me a bit."
Georgiana girled, and most of the young men
grinned at the joke. Gus glanced hurriedly at Mrs.
Piper and then at Hammond. She looked surprised
and troubled.
Sam took her arm without asking permission ano
led her to the sidewalk. She still looked back.
"I'm afraid you hurt Mrs. Piper," she said. "What'
made you so rough?"
Her escort laughed. "I guess it won't be fatal,"
he observed. "If I'd managed to fracture that voice
of hers so's she couldn't sing, maybe the congregation
would give me a vote of thanks."
Gus didn't reply. There was something in her
companion's manner that made her recoil instinctive-
ly. She disengaged her arm from his, but he took it
again and walked on, joking and laughing.
"What a crowd of jays there is in this town," he
remarked after a while, and, with a sne«r, "enough
to stock a dime museum."
He bad always spoken patronizingly of the towns-
people — that she had not minded sd miAh, coming
from a city man, but heretofore he had not openly
made fun of them. She resented the remark, but
most of all the tone in which it was uttered.
"Why do you stay here then?" she asked, coldly.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
3ao PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"Why? I guess you know the reason all right.
Don't you, Gus? Hey?"
He chuckled and bent down to look in her face.
She shivered and drew away irom him.
His hand upon her arm, the look he had just given
her, his air of assumed prt^rietorship^above all,
that new and vulgar something in his nianner, as if
the real soul of the man was showing for the first
time, filled her with disgust.
She did not speak again until they reached the gate.
Then she said, without looking at him, "Good night."
He put his hand over hers on the latch. "Oh, say,"
he exclaimed, with a laugh, "this isn't a square deal,
Gus. Aren't you goin' to ask me in ?"
She tried to snatch her hand away, but he held it
fast, and, leaning across the gate, threw his arm about
her waist and drew her to him.
"There!" he cried, exultantly, "this is more like It.
This is more like friends. Give us a kiss. You're too
high and mighty to be the prettiest girl on the Cape.''
She struggled from his grasp and stood panting.
"Oh!" she whispered, with a shudder, as she realized
the truth. "Oh, you've been drinkingl"
He laughed foolishly and shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh, what's one glass between friends?" he said. "I
stopped into Web's a minute and he set 'em up. First
drink I've had since I left New York. Thought you
was too sensible to have blue ribbon noti<m3. Come;
be more sociable — that's a good girl."
She was afraid of him now, not afraid of physical
violence, but as she would have feared the contart
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
MR. SAM HAMMOND 321
with something loathsome and unclean. A sense of
utter loneliness came over her. She longed for pro-
tection and help. She thought of Bradley ; he would
have helped her; she could have trusted him. But she
had driven him out of her life, and this fellow .
"Go I" she cried. "Go/"
Sam ceased to smile. Other girls had told him to
go, but never in that way or with such quivering
scorn. He began to realize that this was the end of
his game; he had lost the prize. But he made one
more efiort.
"Oh, say," he cried. "Don't get mad, Gus. I was
only fooling. Don't be such an old maid. Come
here."
She turned on her heel and, without replying, walk-
ed toward the house. Hammond swore between his
teeth, opened the gate, took one step in her direction,
and then stopped. He laughed a short, ugly laugh,
and nodded.
"You mean it, do you?" he asked. "Want me to
clear out, hey? Well, don't you fool yourself that I
don't know what ails you. You can't come the high
moral game on me, my lady. You're whining after
that sneaking Sunday-school kid, Brad Nickerson, the
fellow that didn't care enough about you to lift his
hand, but stood still and let me walk off with his girl,
as if she was as common as dishwater. The whole
town thinks you're going to marry me. What'U they
say when I show 'em I'm done with you ?" He laugh-
ed again and put his hands in his pockets.
"I'm going," he said. "I'm goin£ all right. You
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3M PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
go to bed and dream aboot Brad. Oreams come true
sometimes, they say. Maybe fll dream about him,
too."
He pulled his hat over his eyes and walked rapidly
away. Gus watched him go. Then she went into the
house, threw herself into a chair beside the table and
laid her head upon her arms.
Sam plunged straight on through the mud and wet
grass until he reached the back door of the billiard-
room. Web Saunders came hurrying to see who it
was that had knocked: only the tried and true were
admitted at that door.
"Hello, Saml" he exclaimed, with a look of relief,
"Why, what's the matter?"
"Nothing," replied Hammond gruffly. "Where's
that jug of yours, Web? I'm dying for another
drink."
After cautioning his visitor against speaking so
loud, Mr. Saunders indicated the whereabouts of the
jug. Sam poured out a liberal dose of the villainous
cheap whiskey and drank it forthwith. Then he
poured out another.
He refused to go home that night and Web put
him to bed upon one of the settees in the little back
room. And in that back room he stayed throughout
the next day, drinking frequently, in spite of his
friend's protests, and growing more ugly with every
drink.
That next day, Friday, was wet and foggy, with
occasional cold showers, but there was no wind worth
menticMiing and the wreckers put in ten hours of the
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MR. SAM HAMMOND 313
hardest kind of work. The Freedom had moved per-
ceptibly In the sweep of the latest tides and the part-
ocra were happy in consequence.
It was dark, though a few stars were showisg
dimly through the mist overhead, when the Diving
Belle entered Orham Harbor that evening. Alvin
Bearse was at the helmt and he brought the schooner
alongside the wharf. A half-dozen men — the only
members of the wrecking gang who returned to Or-
ham at the end of the day's work — climbed over the
Btringpiece and departed for their homes in the vil-
lage. Bearse remained on board when the vessel ran
out to her moorings, to help his employers make snug
for the night.
A few mimites later Bradley stood by the cabin
door, with a lantern in his hand. Alvin and the Cap-
tain were forward. Suddenly the junior partner was
aware that some one was standing beside him.
"Well, Cap'n Ez," he observed ; "all ready to go
ashore?"
There was no answer. He looked up — into the
face of Sam Hammond. The diver wore no over-
coat. His stiff hat, battered and muddy, was pushed
back on his head. His face, under the tumbled, damp
hair on the forehead, was flushed and scowling, and
%Is half-shut eyes had an ugly glimmer. Even in the
dim light of the lantern bis condition was unmistaka*
Me.
Hammond's behavior in his native village had
heretofore been of the best, so far as this particultt
»ke was concerned. Bradley was dumbfounded.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
324 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"Hello, Sam !" he exclaimed. "Where'd you crane
from ?"
"Off the wharf," was the gruff answer. "Where'd
you think, you fool ?"
It was evident that the fellow was spoiling for a
light. Bradley, however, had no wish to quarrel with
a drunken man, especially this one.
"All right, all right," he said, mechanically, "I
didn't see you come aboard, that's all. Want to see
Cap'n Ez?"
"No, I don't want to see Cap'n Ez nor any other
'longshore thief but you. I want to go below and get
my things."
"Your things ?"
"Yes, my things. My oilskins and the rest of my
stuff. I wouldn't leave 'em aboard this rotten tub
another minute for a million dollars."
"Oh, very well." Bradley swung open the cabin
door and started to lead the way with the lantern.
Hammond shoved him aside.
"I'll go alone," he muttered.
"You can't see without the lantern. You'll have to
go with me or wait till to-morrow morning."
"Give me that lantern," snarled Sam, making a
grab for it.
Bradley held it out of reach.
"You're not fit to carry it," he said, shortly.
"You mealy-mouthed sneak I" shouted Hammond
"I'm fit to fix you."
Bradley saw the blow coming. He dropped thr-
lantern and ducked. Next instant Sam was upon him,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC ■
MR. SAM HAMMOND 325
screaming and cursing. They tripped over the swing-
ing door and fell to the deck. Alvin and Captain Tit-
comb came running from the fo'castle.
"What in the nation ?" cried the Captain.
"Here, quit that, you 1 Let him alone, Brad I"
Hammond yelled and fought as they dragged him
to his feet. Finally, overpowered, he sobbed in maud-
lin fury.
"There I that'll do for you," observed the Captain,
clapping a big hand over his prisoner's mouth. "Crazy
tight, ain't he? Hold still, or, by the cverlastin' hook-
blocks, I'll heave you overboard! Wherc'd he come
from?"
"Must have come aboard when wc stopped at the
wharf," replied Bradley. "He was dead set on tak-
ing the lantern and going below after his oilskins and
stuff."
"Sooner trust a blind cripple with a lantern. Chuck
his dunnage ashore to-morrer momin'. Now then,"
turning to Hammond, "will you walk to the dory or
shall we carry you? Shut up 1 You've cussed enough."
He led the way to the side, holding Sam by the coat
collar. Bradley followed.
"Oh I" exclaimed the skipper, stopping short.
"Didn't shut that cabin door, did you. Brad? IVe
left that blasted key somewheres, and if that spring
lock's snapped shut we'll be in a mess. No ? Well,
all right then."
They got into the dory and Bradley took up the
oars. Hearse sat on the bow thwart, while the Cap-
tain reclined in the stem with Hammond, sprawling
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326 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
and muttering, between his knees. They had nearly
reached the beach when Sam gave a sudden spring,
and, with an oath, threw himself upon his enemy.
Bradley fell badcward. The dory heeled until the
water lipped the rail.
"You would, would you?" grunted Captain Tit-
comb. "There!"
Seizing the struggling diver neck and crop, he
whirled him bodily over the side.
"Now, then," panted the Captain, "if you can't
ride like a man — walk!"
Sam went into the cold water with a tremendous
splash. It was not deep and he floundered to his feet,
but the shock sobered him a little. He waded to the
shore. Turning, he stretched out an arm with a shak-
ing forefinger at the end of it. His rage almost
choked him. He tried twice before he managed to
speak clearly.
"I pay my debts," he gasped. "I pay my debts!"
"I've heard diS'rent," remarked the Captain, drily.
"But never mind, Sam ; it's a good habit."
Hammond did not heed him. "I pay my debts,"
he repeated. "Do you hear that, Brad Nickerson?
You doughface ! I've got your girl away from you
already, and that isn't the end. I pay my debts, and,
by God, Brad Nickerson, I'll pay you I"
He stood for an instant pointing at the dory. Then
he stepped back into the darkness. They heard his
footsteps crunching the broken clam-shells of the
road.
"Seems to love you like a brother, don't he. Brad?"
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MR. SAM HAMMOND 327
observed the Captain, as they were on their way up
town. "I jedge from the drift of his entertainin' re-
marks that he's decided to chuck up his job with Tit-
comb and Nickerswi. Well, I cal'late he'll resign by
'mutual consint,' as the Irishman did when him and
his boss told each other to go to blazes at the same
time. I met one of the Metropolitan men when I was
up to Boston and he told me his folks fired Sam be-
cause he went on a howlin' spree, so I guess this little
shindy was bound to come sooner or later. Kept
pretty straight afore sence he's been to home, though,
ain't he ?"
Bradley did not answer.
Suddenly the Captain slapped his thigh.
"Good land I" he exclaimed. "Brad, I've meant to
tell you all day, and fot^ot it : The Diving Bellas in-
sured. I went down to Obed's after I left your house
last night and we fixed it up. Five thousand dollars,
and it went on at noon to-day — leastways, I s'pose it
did. He was to telephone the insurance folks this
momin'."
"Good! I'm glad that's settled. It has worried
mc to think we weren't protected at all."
"Well, I told you I'd do it, didn't I ? The only
hitch was about that dynamite. But I fixed that. Give
Obcd to understand we'd took it ashore. We have —
all but. I spoke to Peleg and he'll have it off in a day
or so."
Bradley stopped short. "You don't mean to tell
me it hasn't sfine yet?" he exclaimed. "Why! if any-
thing should happen to the schooner with that stu/t
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
328 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
aboard the policy wouldn't hold for a minute. I've a
good mind to go back now and take it off myself."
"Oh, dtm't be an old woman !" cried the Captain,
testily. "What do you think's goin' to happen ? Til
see to it to-morrow. Come on home !"
The junior partner did not press the subject, but h<
made up his mind that If he lived until the next morn-
ing that dynamite should go ashore the minute the
Diving Belle reached the Point.
At the gate of the Traveller's Rest they separated.
"Coming 'round to the house by and by, Cap'n?"
asked Bradley.
The Captain's manner changed. "I don't know,"
be answered, gloomily. *T presume likely I may."
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THE BURGLAR.
THERE was a mystery about the Captain's
visits to the big house. Up to the begin-
ning of that week he had called on Tues-
day and Friday evenings only, and had remained
uQtil after ten o'clock, joking, laughing and appar-
ently enjoying himself. But now he came every night
and seemed less talkative and more glum each time.
Also his calls grew shorter and he went home as early
as half-past eight. The sisters did not know what to
make of it. It was pleasant and encouraging to have
him come so often, but why didn't he stay longer?
329
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
330 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Miss Tempy thought he must be woiT]nng over the
big contract.
She aslced Clara for her opinion, but Miss Hopkins
seemed very indifferent. She used to come into the
sitting-room as soon as the work was done to listen to
Captain Titcomb's stories, but of late she had gone
straight to her own room. The "old maids'* did not
urge her to remain; they liked to have the Captain to
themselves.
On the afternoon of the previous Sunday Miss
Tempy had taken a sudden notion to go over to the
Methodist Chapel and attend the Sabbath School con-
cert. The Chapel was cm the road to Orham Port, a
mile or more from the Allen home. Miss Prissy was
not str(Hig enough to go, and, in fact, thought tbe
walk too long for her delicate sister, but Miss Tempy,
having made up her mind, went. She would have
been glad of Clara's company, but the young lady had
already gone out.
Miss Tempy had just reached the comer when she
was surprised to see Captain Titcomb driving toward
her in a buggy. She rei;«^nized the horse and car-
riage as being the best owned by Lem Mullett, the
livery stable keeper. Also she noticed that the Cap-
tain \ocked particularly well-dressed, spruced up, she
told Miss Prissy afterwards.
"Cap'n I" she called. "Cap'n Ezra I"
The Captain was then almost directly opposite, but
he did not seem to hear or see her. Instead he
whipped up the horse and drove by faster than ever.
"Dear mel'* thought Miss Tempy. "He must be
I ,z,;i.,C00gIC
THE BURGLAR 331
gittin' absent-minded — workin* too hard, I guess.
Cap'n Ez — ral"
It is doubtful if the Captain would have heard -
even then, but Jonadab Wixon was coming down the
road, and he also began to shout. Hailed thus, fore
and aft, the absent-minded one was obliged to heave
to, and, when Captain Jonadab pointed out Miss '
Tempy, he turned his horse and drove back to where
she was standing.
"Well, I do declare I" exclaimed the lady, smilingly
conscious of a becoming new bonnet — one of the rea-
sons for her desire to attend the concert, "I'm all out '
of breath callin' after you. I don't know what folks .
tyiWthinkI"
The Captain didn't appear to care very much what
folks might think. He was polite as usual, but seem-
ed to be a trifle nervous and kept glancing up and
down the road. Miss Tempy, unconscious of the ner-
vousness, went gushingly on.
"What a lovely horse!" she cried. "I declare
it must be a pleasure to ride behind him. I
do so like to ride with a nice, gentle horse like
that. Father used to take Prissy and me drivm'
with our Dexter when he was alive — father was
alive, I mean — yes, and the horse, too, of course.
I hope 1 haven't kept you. Was you goin' to see
Bradley?"
"No, no," was the hasty answer. "I was jest —
jest drivin' down the road a ways." Then, perhaps
noticing that his friend was headed toward the vil-
lage, he added: "I had a little errand down towards
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
332 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
the Port. You're goin' uptown, I see, else I'd ask
you to jump in."
"Why, how lovely," exclaimed Mis3 Tcmpy. "I
was goin' to the Port, too; down to the Methodist
folks' concert. I only came this way 'cause I thought
I'd stop at Mrs. Wingate's and see if she wouldn't go
with me. Prissy was afraid the walk there and back
would be too long for me, and, truth to tell, I was a
little afraid of it myself. I didn't expect to ride, and
with you, Cap'n Ezra I It'll be such a treat, because
I shall feel perfectly safe with you drivin'."
The Captain did not answer immediately. He was
busy with the buckle that fastened the reins together.
But the silence was only momentary.
"Good enough!" he cried. "I'll have you there in
a jiffy."
He sprang out, assisted the lady into the buggy,
and then turned the horse's head into the road lead-
ing up the hill.
"Why, you're goin* the wrong way," Miss Tempy
exclaimed. "You're goin' the wrong way, Cap'n
Ezra!"
"Oh I" replied the Captain, cheerfully, "that's all
right. I thought we'd go 'round by the Neck road.
It's prettier that way."
But Miss Tempy would not consent. She told Miss
Prissy afterwards, "I felt as though I'd the same as
begged him for a ride as it was, and I swan if I
was goin' to let him go miles out of his way jest for
me."
"No," she protested. "No, Cap'n, I won't hear of
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE BURGLAR 333
it. We'll go the shortest road or I shall git right
out."
She stood up as she said tt. The Captain looked
at her determined face.
"Why, Tempy " he began.
"No, I shan't like it a bit, Cap'n Titcomb, If you
don't turn right 'round and go the way you was
goin'."
The Captain jerked at the rein with almost un-
necessary vigor. The turn was made in a hurry.
They wheeled back into the direct road to the Port
and moved swiftly along it. Captain Titcomb did not
say much, but as Miss Tempy talked continuously he
had little opportunity.
"How nice the horse does go I" cranmented the
lady. "You don't have to cluck to him nor nothin'.
Father used to find so much fault with our Dexter;
said he had to shove on the reins so hard to make him
navigate at all that he didn't know's 'twouldn't be
easier to haul the carryall himself. But then, father
was so high-spirited that nothin' less'n a race horse
would do him. Who's that waitin' on the comer in
front of Gains Eldredgc's? Why, I do b'lieve it's
Clara I"
Captain Titcomb evidently did not see Miss Hop-
kins, ^t all events he looked the other way and chir-
ruped to the horse. But Miss Tempy not <Hiiy saw
but intended to be seen.
"It is Clara," she declared. "I must speak to her.
Clara 1 Clara!"
The young lady, who had been intently watching
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
334 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
the approaching buggy, stepped to the edge of the
sidewalk and waited until the equipage drew up.
She was dressed in her new gown and jaclcet and cei
tainly looked very pretty. She nodded to the Captain,
whose face was redder than usual.
"How d'ye do, Clara ?" said Miss Tempy, trying
hard not to be patronizing. "I s'pose you're takin' a
walk. You look reel nice. Where are you goin' ?"
Miss Hopkins replied that she didn't know just
where she should go.
"Well, I hope you'll have a pleasant afternoon
wherever you go," gushed Miss Tempy. "The Cap'n
is takin' me for a little drive. Isn't this a beautiful
horse?"
Here the Captain made his first remark since the
carriage stopped. It was to the eSect that he was
taking Miss Tempy down to the Methodist Chapel,
She had been going that way and It was a long walk.
"Oh I" said Miss Hopkins, sweetly, "is that all?
I thought perhaps you were going to take her over to
Harniss. It seems as if I remembered you saying you
expected to go there to-day. Good-bye. I hope you'll
have a nice time."
"Good-bye," said Miss Tempy. "You needn't
hurry home on our account, Clara. Prissy's well
enough to help me do the dishes to-night. Clara's a
reel nice girl, isn't she?" she added, turning to Cap-
tain Titcomb. "Do you know, I wonder that the
hasn't got a young man by this time."
The Captain's answer was a grunt and a crack of
the whip that sent the buggy flying down the road in
,z,;i.,C00gIC
THE BURGLAR 335
a cloud of dust. Miss Tetnpy began to fear she had
made a mistake in calling her companion a perfectly
safe driver. Certainly she had never in her life
ridden as fast as she did for the next few minutes.
They reached the little chapiel long before the concert
began. There she bade her escort an effusive fare-
well and went inside, but thoughts of the wondrous
tale which she would tell Miss Prissy when she reach-
ed home kept her from paying the proper attention
to the recitations of the infant class, or even to Super-
intendent Ellis' address, which began, "Now, little
children," and ended with the pithy sentence, "The
collection will next be gathered in."
All through supper she talked of nothing but her
*'loveIy long ritfc with Cap'n Ezra." She didn't mean
to stray from the truth, but she couldn't help exag-
gerating just a little, and a stranger might have been
led to believe that the drive was arranged before-
hand and that it lasted a good deal longer than it
really did.
On that evening Captain Titcomb made the first
of the short calls which were to continue during the
week. Miss Tempy welcomed him enthusiastically,
and her sister did her best not to appear jealous.
Clara did not come into the sitting-room at all, nor,
as has been said, did she do so during the following
four evenings.
Bradley did not mention the trouble aboard the
Diving Belle when he reached home Friday night.
He was even more silent than usual at the supper
table. When the meal was over he suddenly ex-
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336 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
claimed, "By George ! Clara, I must beg your pardon.
There was a letter for you in our box this morning
and I left it aboard the schooner. I'll bring it home
to-morrow."
"From your mother, most likely, Oara," observed
Miss Prissy. "How did you come to foi^et it, Brad-
Icy? Your mem'ry's gen'rally so good."
Captain Titcomb came about eight. He seemed
really cheerful when he first arrived, but soon re-
lapsed into the moody silence that had charaaerized
his visits that week.
"Clara out in the kitchen?" he asked, after a while.
"I noticed the light was bumin'."
"No," repHed Miss Tempy; "she's up in her room.
She's left some bread to rise and I guess she's comin'
down to see it by and by. That's why she left the
lamp, I s'posc likely."
As the big clock in the dining-room struck nine the
Captain rose, announced that he must be going, and
went.
Bradley retired soon after, and the sisters followed
his example. The old house grew still. Miss Prissy ,
was dropping into a comfortable doze when she felt
herself clutched violently by the back hair.
"Ow!" she exclaimed, half-awake. "Let go! What
on earth "
"S-s-sh-h!" Miss Tempy breathed it frantically
into her ear. "Don't speak I"
"I won't if you'll let go of my hair. What's the
matter? Nightmare? I told you there was a limit,
even to pepper tea."
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE BURGLAR 337
'•Oh, do be still I There's robbers downstairs. I
hea.'J 'em I"
"Robbers fiddlesticks ! Go to sleep I"
"Prissy Alien, 1 b'licve you'd lay still if you was
murdered in your bed, and "
"Most likely 1 should. Where are they now — in
the coal bin, same as last time?"
"No, in the dinin'-room or the kitchen. Please call
Bradley or 1 shall die; I know I shalll"
Miss Prissy groaningly sat up and listened. "It's
Clara seein' to her bread," she said, after a moment
"It ain't. Clara's in her room, readin' ; I saw her
through the crack in the door. And Bradley's in his
room; I heafd him breathin'. Please git up I"
Miss Prissy got up quicldy enough then. She, too,
fancied she heard a faint sound in a room below.
" 'Tain't burglars, whatever it is," she whispered.
"They wouldn't come so early, and I don't know
what they'd expect to find worth stealin' here any-
how !"
"Prissy Allen, how you talk I And our best teapot
and the spoons hid right in the clock case 1"
Miss Prissy said no more. She donned a wrapper
and put on her slippers. Her sister was already simi-
larly garbed. Then, Miss Prissy bearing the lamp,
they tiptoed into the hall and on to the door of Brad-
ley's room.
"Bradley," cautiously whispered Miss Prissy;
"Bradley, will you git up, please? Tempy thinks
there's somebody downstairs."
They heard Bradley chuckle sleepily. In a few
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
338 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
moments he came out, dressed in jacket and trousers
and blinking at the lamp. Clara, who had not gone
to bed, had already joined them.
The procession moved. Bradley first; then Misa
Prissy with the lamp; then Miss Tempy, who, as she
said afterwards, was "too scared to go ahead and
dasn*t go last." Clara brought up the rear. They
peered cautiously into the dining-room. It was
empty.
"There I" exclaimed Miss Prissy; "I guess 'twas
nothin' but Tcmpy's imagination, as usual. She "
The words died on her lips. There came a sound
from the kitchen — they all heard it — a rattling sound
and the faint squeak of a door.
Bradley sprang to the coal hod and picked up the
poker. It was the only apology for a weapon in sight.
He started for the kitchen, but Miss Prissy seized
him by the jacket and Miss Tempy threw both arms
around his neck.
"Don't you stir, Bradley Nickcrson," whispered
the older sister. "Don't you stir a step I S'pose he
had a revolver."
"Yes, or a dagger," gasped the trembling Miss
Tempy, whose ideas of robbers were derived mainly
from her novels. "If you go near that kitchen I shall'
drop right in my tracks. Oh, Bradley, please, for our
sakes I"
Bradley tried to free himself, but it was hard work.
He unclasped Miss Tempy's arms from his neck, but
she immediately seized him around the waist. It was
a ridiculous situation. And suddenly he became aware
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE BURGLAR 339
of a cold wind blowing from the direction of the
front hall.
"Is that front door open?" he whispered.
The horrified sisters turned to stare at the black
tunnel of the hall. And then footfalls were heard on
the walk — coming up the steps. Clara's voice became
audible; she was speaking In agonized whispers.
1 "Who " began Bradley.
Clara appeared, clinging to the arm of Captain Eri
Hedge. Captain Eri looked puzzled, but he grinned
when he saw the tableau In the dining-room.
He told the story the next morning to his mess-
mates. Captain Perez and Captain Jerry, about as
follows :
"You see," he said, "I'd been up to lodge meetin'
and stayed a little longer'n usual. I was comin' home
by the short cut, and jest as I got abreast the old
maids' house the front door bust open and somethin'
comes prancin' down the walk flutterin' and fiappin'
its arms like a hen tryin' to fly. Thinks I, 'Has that
speritu'list camp-meetin' I went to last summer
struck in?' You see, I couldn't imagme anything
but a ghost havin' the spunk to use the old maids'
front door.
"But the critter swooped out of the gate and b»re
down on me like a hawk on a June-bug. Then I see
' 'twas Clara Hopkins, scart pretty nigh to death.
" 'Oh, Cap'n Eri I' says she. 'Oh, Cap'n Eri 1*
" 'The same,' says I. 'What's the row ?'
" 'Burglars 1* says she, makin' fast to my arm ; *bui>
gtars I*
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340 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"I had to laugh. I couldn't help it. 'Bur-
glars at ten o'dodt!' I says. 'Did they come to
supper?'
" 'But they're there!' she says. 'Everybody heard
'em; Bradley and all.'
"I couldn't b'lieve 'twas barglars even then, but I
knew if Brad Nickerson took any stock in it somethin'
was up. And the poor girl was tremblin' like Peleg
Myrick's pup.
" 'All right, Clara,' says I. 'Let's go in and shake
hands with 'em.*
"So in we went. When we struck the dinin'-room
there was Brad in the middle of the floor, lookin'
pretty toler'ble foolish, with Prissy moored to his
coat-tails and Tempy with a clove hitch 'round his
waist. All hands lodked s'prised to see me, but no
morc'n I was to see them. 'What is this?' says I.
'Livin' statues?'
"The old maids cast loose from Brad then and be-
gun on me.
*' 'It's burglars,' says Prissy.
" 'In the kitchen ' says Tempy.
*' 'And Bradley was goin' right in there '
" 'At the risk of his life. And '
" 'And, oh I we're so glad you've come, 'cause '
" 'Hold on a minute I' I says, holdin* up both
hands. 'If this is a talkin' race, let's start even.
What's the row. Brad?'
"Brad, he kind of grinned. 'Well,' says he ; 'the
ladies thought they heard somecxie in the kitchen, but
I guess '
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THE BURGLAR 341
. " 'Thought we heard 'em I' busts out Priay. 'Why,
you heard 'em yourself 1*
" 'Yes,' squeals Tempy. 'And / heard 'em, and
Clara heard 'em. And that's why you took the poker.'
"And now Brad, he held up his hands, p(^er and
all. 'All right I all right!' says he. 'Now that we're
■ reinforced maybe we'd better go out and interview
*em. They might die of old age if we stay here much
longer.'
"So he winked to me and the fleet got under way.
Me and Brad led olif, like a couple of tugs, and the
women folks strung out behind like coal barges, hdd-
in' on to each other's wrappers, and breathin' hard.
"We opened the kitchen door and sailed in — that
is, Brad and I did. The coal barges got in a lump,
so's to speak, in the doorway and stayed there. There
was a lamp burnin' side of a pan of dough on the
table, but, jest as I expected, we was the only humans
in sight.
" 'Looks's if the burglars had got tired of waitin*
for us and got mad and gone home,' says I. 'Don't
know what they broke into the kitchen for, anyhow.
I've heard of a feller's stealin' a red-hot stove,
but '
, "Brad looked puzzled, sort of. 'I sartinly heard
somethin' movin' out here,' says he. 'Most likely
'twas a stray cat, and it's hidin' 'round somewheres.'
"But jest then comes a whistle — a squeal, I mean — -
from the barges. Tempy's deadlights were poppin'
out of her head, and she was p'intin' a shaky finger at
the floor. There was big muddy footprints all over it.
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34* PARTNERS OP THE TIDE
"Well, I own up I was set back two or three rows.
Somebody had been there, that was sartin I've seen
cats with double paws, but no cats made them prints.
A camel with the gout might have done it, if it took
pains and trod heavy.
" 'Humph I' says I, and Brad agreed with me.
" 'Humph r says I again. 'It looks '
"I was standin' right in front of the doof of the
closet where the old maids kept their pots and pans.
And jest then inside that closet bust out the most out-
rageous racket ever you heard. "Biffityl bang I
thump I* And then a coughin' and sneezin' like forty
packs of thunder crackers.
"I ain't a narvous man, gln'rally speakin', but I
got up and moved sudden. I didn't exactly run, but I
kind of glided over to the sink. Leastways I was
backed up against it when I remembered to take an
observation. The women grabbed each other and
screeched. Brad, he turned sort of yeller 'round the
gills, but he was the coolest one in the bunch.
"The faangin' and barkin' and sneezin' in the closet
kept right up to time. Whoever it was, he wasn't
shirkin' his work none to speak of.
" *Come out of that I' yells Brad, makin' a dive f<»
the door.
"Afore he could reach it that door flew open of
itself. Out comes somethin' doubled up like a jack-
knife. It kind of pawed the air with its flippers and
dove head first for the sink. I give it all the room it
needed ; didn't want to be selfish.
" 'Hoo-rash-oo I" remarks the thing, as if it meant
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THE BURGLAR 343
it, too. Then it shoved its head Into the water
bucket.
"The whole congregation was considcr'ble shook
up. Nobody felt like risin' and addressin' the mourn-
ers. The critter at the water bucket splashed and
gurgled for a minute. Then it turned 'round. Its
fhead and face was all streaks of red and brown and
the water was drippin' off its chin. Who was it ? You'd
never guess in a million years I
"I swan to man tf it wan't Ez Titcomb!
" 'Ohl it's the Cap'nf squeaked Tempy, and went
down in a heap.
*' 'Hoo-rash-oo !* says Cap'n Ez, sort of <^nin* the
conversation.
"'Weill' says I.
" 'For heaven's sakesi' says Brad.
"But Prissy stepped for'ard and took command.
She didn't looked scared any more; only kind of queer
'round the mouth and snappy 'round the eyes.
" 'Cap'n Titcomb,' says she, 'if you please, what
were you hidin' in that closet for? If you can stop
sncezin' long enough to answer, I should like *
" 'Sneeze !' hollers Ez, gittin' ready for another ex-
plosion. 'Sneeze I' says he, kind of through his nose
. and wavin' his hand desp'rate. 'I guess maybe you'd
'sneeze if you'd upsot the spice-box right into your
face'n eyes and had your moustache full of red pep-
per I'
"Seemed a likely sort of guess, when you come to
think of it, but Prissy didn't pay no attention.
" 'Why was you hid in that closet?' says she.
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344 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"Well, sir I that was the fust time in my life that I
ever see Ez Titcomb clean out of soundin's. I snum I
you could see he didn't know what to say, and when
Ez gits that way things must be consider'ble mussed
up. He fidgetted, and stuttered, and picked at his
watch chain.
" 'Prissy -' says he, and then he stopped.
'Prissy' -' he says again, and shut up like a clam.
'Prissy '
" "Well?* says Prissy, in a sort of vinegar-on-Ice
voice.
" 'Prissy ' says Ez. He looked at her and at
Tempy and at Brad. As for Brad, there was a twin-
kle in his eye. Honest, he locked almost as if he wa9
havin' consider'ble fun out of the show.
" 'Prissy * sa^ Ez once more. Then he let
everything go with a run, and hollers, 'Oh, thunder 1
what's the use? Clara, you know what I come here
for. Why don't you tell 'em and be done with it ?'
"Course we all looked at Clara then. She blushed
up pretty red, but she answered prompt.
" 'I s'pose you come here to see me,* says she,
'though why you should hide I don't see.'
" ' 'Cause I couldn't see you no other way: that's
why I I've tried hard enough to speak with you for
the last week, but you've cleared out every night 'fore
I got the chance. I thought if I waited till you come
to fix the bread, I'd be here and you'd have to see me
and hear what I had to say. So I come in the back
door and waited. Then I heard Prissy speak in the
dinin'-room and — well, I got rattled and hid In thaf
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THE BURGLAR 345
da — that everlastin* closet. That's the whole fool
yam! There I'
"Prissy looked as if she was goin' to say somethin*,
but Clara cut in ahead of her. 'Yes,' says she; 'but
what you haven't explained are your actions last Sun-
day. When a man asks the lady he's engaged to to
go out drivin' with him, and then calmly ups and takes
somebody else, why ^
" 'I wrote you how it happened,' says Ez, pleadin*
like.
" 'I never got the letter,' says Clara.
" 'One minute, if you please,' breaks in Prissy,
calm but chilly, like a January momin'. 'Let's under-
stand this thing. Cap'n Titcomb, are you and Clara
engaged to be married?'
"Ez swallered once or twice and looked 'round as
if he was hopin' somebody's heave a life-line. But
nobody did. Then he shoves his Bsts in his pockets,
and says, 'Why, yes; we — ^we are.'
" 'Well, I never I' says Prissy.
"I didn't say nothin', neither did Brad, but I cal'-
latc we both looked s'prised. Tempy, who'd been
scttin' on the floor ever sence Ez was materialized —
like one of the camp-meetin' sperits — out of that
closet, spoke up as if she was talkln' in her sleep, and
says she, 'And it was Clara he was comin' to see all
this time !'
" 'Well !' says Prissy. 'Well, I must say, Cap'n
Titcomb, that I think it would have been more manly
if you'd come and seen Clara, instead of spcndin' your
cvenin's with us, and lettin' us think '
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346 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
" 'Come and see her I' belters Ez. 'Didn't I try
and crane to see her? But every time I got to the
kitchen door you or Tempy'd take me in tow and head
for the «ettin'-room. I swan to man I ain't had a
chance to breathe, you watched mc so I'
"Tempy started to say swntthin', but Prissy was
skipper jest then. 'Dtm't say any more, Tempy,' she
seys. 'Now that we know the Cap'n is goin' to marry
our ' I guess she was goin' to say servant, but
didn't hardly dast to — 'our young lady friend,' says
she, 'we'll treat him as her comp'ny, not ours. Come,
we ain't wanted here.'
"And, helpin' Tempy up, she todc her by the arm
and sailed out, all canvas sot and colors flyin'.
"Ez, he looked consider'ble like the feller that
stole the hen's eggs and forgot and set down on 'em.
"Brad didn't speak. He jest looked sort of mourn-
ful at the partner and shook his head slow. I ain't a
mind reader, but I'll bet he was thinkin', same as I
was, that, for a chap who had the name of bein' the
slickest kind of a ladies' man, Ez Titcomb sartinly
had upset the calabash this time.
"And we went out and left him alone with his best
girl."
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A DEBT IS PAID.
t9*V^P^ELL, Clara," observed Captain Tlt-
«fvf comb, a few hours later, standing on
• * the step by the back door and button-
ing his peajacket, "I s'pose It had to come out some-
time, but I did hope 'twould come more soothin' like,
as the feller said to the dentist. The thing that wor-
ried me most of all — always exceptin' your glvin' me
the mitten, as Pd begun to think you had — was how
we was goin' to break it to the old maids. And now
it's kind of broke itself, as you might say."
Clara, standing in the doorway, with a shawl about
her shoulders, smiled, but shook her head. "Yes,"
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348 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
she said, "I should say it had. I guess the best thing
I can do is to move back home right away. They'll
never forgive me for letting you fall in love with me,
Ezra ; never in the world."
"Oh! I don't know," replied the Captain, hope-
fully. "That's where Brad'll help out. He can do
more than anybody else to square you and me with
Prissy and Tempy. Land of level Is that one
o'clock?"
"Yes, it is. You must be going right away. I'd
no idea 'twas so late."
"Nor I neither. Seemed so good to have you to
myself for a little while, without havin' to dodge any-
body, that I've jest enjoyed it, even if I did have to
swaller a pound of pepper aforehand."
The quarrel — or misunderstanding, rather — had
been made up. They had been saying good night
ever since.
"Cleared off fine, ain't it?" remarked Captain
Ezra, looking at the sky.
The fog had entirely disappeared and it was a
clear, cold November night. The heavens were spat-
tered thick with stars, and the horizon line was dotted
here and there with the sparks of lighthouses and
lightships. Sleeping Orham lay still, and the surf
hummed a restful lullaby.
"What was that?" asked Clara, pointing.
"What was what?"
"I thought I saw a queer light out on the water
there. Yes ! See I there it is again I"
The Captain put up his hand to shade his eyes from
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A DEBT IS PAID 349
the rays of the lamp in the kitchen and looked in the
direction she was pointing. Out beyond the strip of
water at the foot of the long hill behind the house,
beyond the point that divided it from the harbor, a
speck of light glowed for an instant, flickered and
went out.
"That's queer," he muttered. "That's off in the
harbor, right by our moorin's."
The speck of light reappeared, grew larger, puffed
for an instant into a ruddy Same that lit up the masts
and hull of a schooner lying at anchor.
"Lord A'mightyl" yelled Captain Titcomb. "It's
the Diving Belle on fire I"
And from the darloiess in the direction of the dis-
tant wharf came a faint shout — then another.
The Captain plunged headlong for the back fence.
"Call Brad !" he shouted. "Quick 1"
Clara ran screaming into the house, and her com-
panion vaulted the fence and dashed down the hill.
The dead grass beneath his feet was wet and slippery.
Blackberry vines caught him about the ankles and
tangled clumps of bayberry bashes tore his clothes as
he scrambled through them. Once he fell head-first
into a sandpit, but the sand was soft and he was not
hurt. The Diving Belle was on fire! The Diving
Belle was burning up I His brain repeated it over
and over again. Then came the thought of what her
loss would mean to Bradley and himself, and he
groaned aloud.
He reached the foot of the hill and ploughed
through the soft sand of the beach. The tide was low
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350 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
•nd he ran across the flats, splashing to his knees in
the channels. As he climbed the bank by the bridge
he heard someone running before him over the loose
planks.
He crossed the bridge and panted up the second
hill. As he reached its top the wind from the sea
struck cold on his sweating forehead, and brought to
his ears the sound of shouting. There were lights
in the upper windows of the houses he passed.
J<wiadab Wixon thrust a tousled head from the win-
dow of his bedroom and hailed, asking what was the
matter.
Captain Tltcomb could see the cluster of buildings
at the landing plainly now, and the masts of the cat-
boats alcKigside the wharf. The water of the harbor
was black, except in one spot. There the Diving Belle
lay in a flickering halo of red light. Little jets of
flame were shooting up irom her hull amidships. The
smell of burning wood came on the wind.
Lem Mullett, the livery stable keeper, was just
ahead, pufGng and stumbling in the middle of the
narrow road. He seized the Captain by the arm as
the latter overtook him.
"How'd — how'd — she git — afire?" he gasped.
Captain Titcomb did not answer. His eyes were
fixed on the burning schooner, and he pushed Mr.
Mullett out of the way and ran on.
Just as he reached the bend by Newcomb's fish-
house, a huddle of men, some with overcoats and hats,
and others bareheaded and half-<iressed, rushed wild-
ly around the corner of the building. The Captain's
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
J DEBT IS PAID 351
shoulder struck the foremost man a blow in the chest
that knocked him backwards.
"Ugh! Owl" grunted the man. Then he cried,
"Hey? Is that you Cap'n Ez?"
The Captain was fighting his way through. "Let
me by," he shouted. "Git out of my way I"
Some obeyed, but others did not. There were con-
fused cries of "Stop him I Don't let him go I" He
was seized by the ann. The crowd closed about him.
"Don't let me go!" roared the Captain, striking
right and left. "Who'll stop me? Are you crazy?
Parker, by thunder, I'll Alvin Bearse, take your
hands off me I"
But Alvin held tight. "Cap'n Ez," he pleaded;
"listen 1 listen jest a minute I You mustn't go off to
her. Ira, hold his other arm."
Overpowered and held fast, the bewildered Cap-
tain gazed at the faces surrounding him. "For the
Lord's sake I" he cried. "You cowards I Are you
goin' to let her bum up without liftin' a hand? What
are you standin' here for? Why ain't you aboard
your ship, Alvin Bearse? Did you set her afire your-
self? Xjet me go, or I'll "
He struggled frantically. "Cap'n Ez," pleaded
Alvin. "Listen to me. The dynamite's aboard I The
dynamite!"
Captain Titcomb stopped strolling. The dyna-
mite in the hold I He had forgotten it entirely. That
was why no boats had put out to the burning vessel.
That was what they were running away from.
" 'Tain't safe to stay here I" shouted someone from
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
352 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
the outskirts of the rapidly growing crowd. "We'll
be blowcd to slivers when she goes off. Git back to
the hill."
"Bluey Bachcldor," yelled the Captain, "you're a
coward and always was. But ain't there no men in
this gang? Bcarse! Sparrow I Ellis 1 Are you
goin' to stand by and see me and Brad ruined ? Who'll
come with me and pitch the stuff overboard? We'll
save her yit I Come on I"
They were wavering, stnne of them. Bearse was a
brave man — so was Ellis. The two looked at each
other.
"Come on, boysl" shouted the Captain, getting one
arm free and waving it. Thwi, as a new thought
struck him, "What's the matter with you ? Dynamite
don't blow up in a lire ; it bums like cord-wood. Come
on, you fools!"
They might have followed him then, but Captain
Edward Taylor came up. A man of experience along-
fhore, and one of the town's Selectmen, his words car-
ried weight. "Don't let him stir," he commanded.
"Dynamite, boxed in as he's got it in that hold, is sure
to explode, and he knows it. The least shock'Il do it,
if the fire doesn't. Come back to the hill. Ez, you'll
have to go with us."
That settled It. Fighting, pleading, swearing. Cap-
tain Titcomb was carried by main force along the
road toward the hill by the bridge. Long tongues of
flame were spouting from the Diving Belle's main
hatch. Up in the village the schoolhouse bell was
ringing.
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A DEBT IS PAID' 353
"Don't let anybody go near the wharf," ordered
Captain Taylor. "Warn 'em as fast as What's
that?"
There was a scuffle in the road below. Two or
three shouts. The sound of running feet.
Ira Sparrow rushed up the hill. His voice trem-
bled.
"He's got through I Wc didn't see him in time I"
he panted.
"Who ?" asked several voices.
"Brad Nickerson. I'm afraid he's goin' ?ff to the
schooner !"
Captain Titcomb gave a spring that almost cleared
him. The tears came into his eyes.
"For the Lord's«ake !" he begged. "Arc you goin*
to let that boy kill himself?" Then, bending forward,
he shouted, "Brad I Brad ! don't go nigh her for your
life I The dynamite's aboard !"
The crowd was still. Everyone listened. There
was no reply, but they heard the rattle of "^ars in a
dory's rowlocks.
When Bradley came out of the kitchen, after the
"burglar" had made his confession, he shook hands
with Captain Eri, bade the latter a laughing good
night, and went up to his chamber. It was a long
time before he fell asleep. He heard a steady hum
of conversation from the "old maids' " room and
knew the sisters were going over the astonishing
events of the evening. Once Miss Tcmpy cam* to
his door to ask in a whisper if he knew just how old
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354 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Captain Titccwnb was. *'OhI about forty-eight or
fifty," he answered, smiling to himself.
He had fallen into a dose and was dreaming a con-
fused medley in which the sisters and he were chasing
Sam Hammond from one rocnn to another, while Gus
locked the doors in front of them, when Clara's
scream of "Firel" rang through the house. He sat
up in. bed, not sure whether the cry was real or a part
of the dream.
But the next moment be heard footsteps on the
stairs. "Firel" screamed Clara, rushing through the
hall. "Oh, Brad ! get up quick I The Diving Bellas
all on fire I"
He was cool, surprisingly cool, as it seemed to him
when he thought of it afterwards. His first move was
to run to the window, open it and lean out. At first
he saw nothing but the black night, the stars and the
lights on the horizon. He noticed, too, how salty
sweet the wind smelt, as it blew from the flats at the
foot of the hill. Then he saw the pufi of flame on
the schooner in the harbor.
Barefooted, bareheaded, dressed only in his trous-
ers and shirt, but struggling into his jacket as he ran,
he sprang down the stairs. The sisters caught at his
arm and cried something or other, but he did not heed
them. Clara called after him that Captain Titcomb
had gone to the schotmer. He stopped for an Instant
to ask her to rouse some of the neighbors and send
them to the wharf. As he came out into the yard he
noticed vaguely that there was a light in one of the
rooms of the Baker cottage.
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A DEBT IS PAID 355
He took the same route that his partner had taken,
but made better time. It was evident that the fire had
been seen by others, for, as he crossed the bridge the
schoolhouse bell began to ring. It came to him like a
flash, but too late, that he might have saved half the
distance by taking one of the skiffs in the inlet and
rowing straight out past the point.
There was a shouting crowd on the hill above the
bridge, but he could see no boats about the Diving
Belle, and wondered why. Part of the crowd on the
hill came rumilng to meet him.
"Who's that ?" shouted someone — Ira Sparrow, he
thought.
Bradley did not answer. "Who is it?" cried Ira
again. "Stopl"
The junior partner did not stop. "Squealer" Wixon
got in his way and caught at his jacket. Bradley
tripped him up, jumped the rail fence by the roadside
and ran across the fields. He heard "Squealer" shout-
ing his name.
The wharf was empty. Not a man was there. He
reached the strtngpiece, caught at the painter of one
of the dories almgside, and, pulling the boat toward
him, jumped in. Luckily the oars were lying on the
thwarts. He picked them up, and, with his knife, cut
the painter.
And then he heard the Captain's voice, calling to
him from the hill, "Brad ! Brad ! don't go nigh her
for your life! The dynamite's aboard I"
Like his partner, Bradley had foi^otten the dyna-
mite. Mechanically he put the oars in the rowlocks
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356 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
and sat motionless. The Captain had stopped shout-
ing. It was very still. He heard the bell ringing in
the distance and the gurgle of the tide amongst the
piles under the wharf. A whiff of smoke from the
Diving Belle blew across his face, and he turned and
looked at the schooner.
He remembered reading in the Boston Herald, a
month or so before, of a wrecking vessel that had
caught on fire off Long Island somewhere. She, too,
had dynamite on board and her skipper and the mate
had saved her by throwing the explosive overboard.
But they were on deck when the fire started. He
looked at his own vessel, the schooner that he and the
Captain had longed for and worked for, and petted
like a baby. Then he set his teeth and began rowing.
The crackle of burning timber was plain as he
scrambled over the Diving Bellas rail. The flames
were pouring up from under the covering of the main
hatch and the smoke was rolling thick from the cabin
companion. He would have given anything for an
ax, but the only one on board was by the woodbox in
the galley below. He caught up the boathook that
was in its rack by the bulwark and ran to the hatch.
He put the point of the hook under the heavy cover
and began prying the latter loose. It gave a little,
slipped back, and then pulled over the cleats. With
the hook he got a Hrm grip upon its edge and turned
it over with a clatter. The smoke belched up in a
cloud, but as it cleared he fell upon his knees and
peered below.
The fire was almost amidships, amtmg some loose
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A DEBT IS PAID 357
planks and an empty tar barrel. These were burning
fiercely and the beams of the deck were blazing above
them. But the dynamite chest was further forward,
beyond the bulkhead, which was only beginning to
bum, and he could see there was just a chance of
reaching it if he was quick. With the dynamite once
out of the way, help from the shore might save the
schooner. He drew a long breath and put his hands
CHI the edges of the hatch.
Then he heard a faint voice calling for help.
He thought for a moment that he must be going
crazy. But the voice called again. "Help I" it wailed.
"Somebody help I"
Bradley jumped to his feet and ran aft. The door
at the head of the cabin stairs had been left open when
the partners went home the previous night, but Brad-
ley had pulled the sliding hatch shut. Now the hatch
was pushed back as far as it would go and the door
was shut tight.
"Who is it?" shouted Bradley, stooping to the
opening between the top of the door and the hatch.
The dense smoke in his face made him cough.
"Help!" the voice came up through the smoke.
"It's me — ^Hammond."
The junior partner started back. "Hammond?"
he repeated. "Hammond!" And then, in a changed
voice, "What are you doing aboard here ?"
"I came after my things. I forgot about the spring
lock. Quick 1 Oh, quick I"
"Came after your things ! You lie ! You came to
set this fire I"
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3S8 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
There was no reply for a moment. Only a gasp-
ing, choking sound in the smoke. Then the voice be-
gan again. "Let me out [" it screamed. "I'm dying !
Brad Nickcrson, you want to murder mel Damn
you, let me out I Oh, please, Brad I for God's sake,
please!"
Bradley stood upright and looked about him. His
beloved schooner or the sneaking enemy who had set
her on fire, and who was responsible for all his trou-
bles — which? To force that cabin door meant that
the Barnes in the hold would have time to bum
through the bulkhead and then He heaved a
long sigh, and with that sigh he said good-bye to the
Diving Belle. He turned and rushed to the main
hatch.
The prisoner in the cabin heard him go, and
screamed choking curses after him. But Bradley had
gone only to get the boathook. He came back
with it and began the attack upon the door.
That door was built of tough wood, almost new,
and the Captain's lock was new also. The boat-
hook only tore off splinters and chips. Finally
the hook broke just where the iron joined the
handle.
Sam had ceased to yell and beg his rescuer to hurry.
His cries changed to coughs and strangling moans.
Then he was silent altogether. Bradley, desperate,
threw down the broken boathook and ran about the
deck, hunting, by the light of the fire, for something
heavy, something that would break that lock. He
picked up the stout beam, reinforced with iron, that
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A DEBT IS PAID 359
they slung over the vessel's forequarter when they
hoisted heavy chains on board.
It was so clumsy that he could scarcely carry It, but
he stepped back by the wheel to get a start, and, run-
ning forward, threw it against the door. The dou-
ble oak panels cracked lengthwise. Three times he
hurled the battering ram, with his own weight behind
it. At the fourth attempt the door burst inward and
he fell on his face.
"Sam I" he shouted. "Sam I come on !"
But Hammond did not answer. Shutting his eyes
and holding his breath, Bradley descended the cabin
stairs. Hammond was lying unconscious at their foot.
The junior partner dragged him to the deck and away
from the smoke. Then he shook and pounded him
savagely. After a bit the fellow opened his eyes and
gasped.
Then Bradley left him and ran to the main hatch.
One glance showed him that the schooner was doom-
ed and that the dynamite might explode at any mo-
ment. The thin bulkhead was a wall of flame and
was shaking like a sheet of paper in the Herce
draught. Black smoke, powdered with sparks, was
vomiting from die fo'castle. The Diving Belle was
on fire from stem to stem.
Hammond yelled wildly from the after rail. "The
dory's gone !" he shouted. "My dory's gone I Where's
yours?"
Bradley had not stopped to fasten the dory when
he boarded the schooner, and the boat had drifted
away. Hammond, half drunk when he left the wharf,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
36o PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
had bungled the knot with which bis dory was fast*
cned, and that, too, was gone.
"We'll have to swim," cried Bradley. "Jump
quick I She's going to blow up I"
Sam sobbed in sheer terror. "I can't make it," he
screamed. "I'm too weak. I'll drown."
"You've got to make it. Jump I I'll keep close
behind you."
Hammond caught at a shroud, stepped upon the
bulwark, and stood there, turning a white face first
toward the shore, and then back at his companion.
There was a muffled rumble from the hold. The bulk-
iiead had fallen.
"Jump I" shouted Bradley. "Jump I"
Sam threw up his arms and leaped from the stem.
Bradley cast one glance over the poor Diving Belle,
ran to the rail by the foremast and dove into the
water.
At that moment, before his head appeared above
the surface, there came a dull roar from the schooner's
hold. She rocked like a rowboat among breakers. A
flame burst from her hatches and fo*castle and
streamed to the top of her foremast, every rope oi
which caught fire. Her entire bow was a great torch
that dipped, now this way, now that.
Hammond, swimming for his life, yelled with
fright. Bradley, caught in the waves made by the
rocking of the Diving Belle, was, for a moment, un-
able to make any headway. Va^cly he wondered
why he had not been killed. And then the foremast
swung above his head and the heavy hoisting block in
by Google
A DEBT IS PAID 361
the forerigging snapped from its burning tackle, shot
out into the air and fell, striking him on the forehead.
He remembered almost nothing of what happened
after that; nothing except fighting to keep afloat, and
the intense cold of the water.
Captain Titcomb cwi the hill had fought and strug-
gled, and pleaded to be allowed to go to his partner's
aid. But Captain Taylor said, "Better erne than two,"
and most of the others agreed with him. "Squealer"
Wixon was going through the crowd, telling all who
would listen that if he had not had some fellows at
his house, "settin' up" playing cards, the fire would
not have been discovered. As the blaze grew brighter
and Bradley could be seen running about the
schooner's deck, Alvin Bearse volunteered to go with
his skipper and attempt a rescue, but they would not
let him try. In whispers people were asking one an-
other how long It would last. Every now and then
they called to Bradley, telling him to come ashore.
When Hammond appeared on deck there was a
great commotion. No one knew who it was. But
when he stood upon the rail, with the fire behind him,
a dozen shouted his name. Captain Titcomb shouted
it, and swore. A moment later came the explosion.
Fifty men started for the wharf then, but the Cap-
tain was far in the lead. He leaped Into a dory and
pushed oS. The harbor was almost as light as day.
In the centre of the light the two figures in the water
were splashing silhouettes.
And suddenly the Captain, rowing frantically, was
by Google
362 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
aware that another boat was nearer the sdiooner than
his own. A small dtifi, rowed by a bareheaded girl,
had come from behind the point and was speeding,
with long, sure strokes, toward the swimmers.
Hammond saw it. "Help I" he shouted, waving
one arm. "Help I I'm drowning! Save mcl"
The skiff was abnost upon him. He reached out to
grasp its side. But the rower, though she turned and
looked directly into his face, did not stop. She kept
straight on — past him — almost over him.
And Captain Titcomb, as he seized Sam Hammond
by the coat-collar, saw Gus Baker lean from her skiff
and drag to its low gunwale the helpless form of
Bradley Nickcrson.
Then, with a hiss, and wrapped tn a great white
robe of steam, the Diving Belle dove to the bottom of
theharbw.
by Google
CHAPTER XXI.
"storm along, JOHN !"
AT nine o'clock that morning Bradley, with his
head bandaged, sat in the rocking chair by
the window of his chamber, looking out. On
the table beside him were medicine vials, teaspoons
and a pencilled memorandum in Doctor Palmer's
handwriting. Also there was an Emulsion bottle and
a steaming pitcher of "pepper tea." These last were
Miss Tempy's contributions. That lady herself, with
a face whiter even than Bradley's own, and with fin-
gers that sho<^ until holding a needle was next to an
363
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gk'
364 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
impossibility, was seated in a chair by the door, pre*
tending to sew. Every now and then she looked up,
seemed about to speak, and then, seeing the expression
on the young man's face, remained silent. Occasion-
ally she wiped her eyes with her handkerchief.
Miss Prissy was downstairs in the sitting-room lis^
tening to the steady stream of conversation and ques-
tions that flowed from the lips of Melissa Busteed.
Miss Busteed had left her breakfast dishes unwashed,
so that she might be the first to visit the Allen home.
Clara rapped on the bedroom door. "Bradley,"
she said, "Cap'n Titcomb is downstairs. May He
come up?"
Miss Tempy spoke and with decision. "No, in-
deed!" she exclaimed. "The Doctor said Bradley
wasn't to see anybody. I should think the Cap*n
would "
She bit her lips and sewed vigorously. Bradley
turned from the window.
"Tell the Cap'n to come right up," he said. "Yea,
Miss Tempy; I must sec him."
Miss Tempy started to protest, but did not. In-
stead she picked up her workbasket and rose. "Now,
Bradley, please " she pleaded, with emotion,
"don't talk about the — about your bus'ness and git
over-excited. It's bad enough as it is without
Good momin', Cap'n Titcomb."
Her salutation was formal and very dignified. So
also was her manner as she swept out of the room.
The Captain said, "Good mornin'," in an absent-
minded way. He looked pale and anxious and there
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
"S TORM J LONG, JOHNT 365
were circles under his eyes. He went over and shook
his partner's hand. Then he sat down heavily in Miss
Tempy's chair.
"Well, Cap'n," said Bradley, cheerfully, "I've been
expecting you. I must look about as you did the
morning after you butted into the Thomas Doan^y
deck."
Captain Titcomb did not smile. "I've seen the
Doctor," he observed. "He says you'll be all right in
a couple of days. I'm glad of that much, anyhow.'*
"I'm all right now. Little shaky, that's all." Then,
after a pause, "Well?"
His partner drew a long breath. "Well," he said,
slowly, "I've dcme it this time, ain't I? I ought to
hunt up Jabe Bailey and tell him I realize he bad me
sired up 'bout right. Ez Titcomb, the blasted fool I''
He laughed bitterly.
"I don't see that youVe done it any more dian I
have," was Bradley's calm reply.
"Yes, you do, too. You kept after me with a sharp
stick 'bout that dynamite, and I, like the idiot I am,
let it go. I've seen Obed this momin'. We don't git
the insurance."
"Of course not. I was sure of that."
The Captain was silent. Then he struck the arm'
of his chair and swore between his teeth. "I ain't a
murderin' man, gin'rally speakin'," he muttered, "but
I'd give ten years of my life to have my hand on that
cuss Hammond's chicken neck jest about now."
Bradley looked out of the window. "Where is he?"
he asked.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
366 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"Nobody knows. I cal'late he's skipped (he town.
Good thing for him I But ve'Il land tUm yit, as socm
as I can git the sheriff on his tracks."
"Do people know he set the fire ?"
"No, not for sartin. Some might suspect, I s'pose,
but I ain't said nothin' to anybody yit. I will, though,
you bet your life on that I"
"No, you won't. I don't want you to."
Captain Titcomb sat up straight. "Don't want me
to?" he repeated.
*'No. I ask you, as a favor to me, not to tell any-
body. Let them guess whatever they please, but dcm't
tell them the truth."
The senior partner was dumb with astonishment.
He looked curiously at his c(»npanion. "I — I s'pose
likely you know who snaked you out of the wet last
night ?" he asked, after a bit.
"Yes."
Bradley knew that Gus had picked him up as he
wallowed unconscious in the water. Clara had told
him, and the Captain had told her when they brought
the young man home. For a moment his heart had
leaped with a great joy, but then he remembered that
Hammond had been on the schooner, and in plain
sight from the shore. Not for an instant did Bradley
think that the girl knew for what purpose her lover
had boarded the Diving Belle, but she had, no doubt,,
seen him there, as had the others, and gone to his res-
cue. He pitied her — ^when she should learn what sort
of a man Hammcmd was, but he determined she
should learn it from other lips than his.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
"STORM ALONG, JOHNF' 367
So be was silent, and Captain Titcomb did not men<
tion the subject again. At length the latter said:
"Well, Brad, there's no use of my asldn' you to for-
give me, because it ain't a forgivin' kind of deal. I
got you into this wreckin' game, and you did a blame
sight more'n I did to make it grow. I was the crazy
fool that took the contract that's goin' to bust us, and
I took it in spite of your tellin' me not to. And now,
all along of me, we've lost the schocmer, insurance and
all. I don't care for myself, but I — I like you, Brad.
Z never took to man nor boy as I've took to you. And,
by crimus, when I think of how I've ruined you, I'm
ready to go down to the dock and say, 'Here goes
nothin',' and jump off. If it wan't for Clara, I cal'-
late I would."
"Don't talk that way, Cap'n Ez," began Bradley,
but the Captain went on.
"There's one thing, though," he said. "You shan't
have none of the blame. I'll tell every man in this
town that 'twas all me. I'll go up to Cook and Scm
and let them know it, too. I'll work out the schooner
debt for the bank folks, and I'll git you the best
mate's job that I can. Of course, that dtm't make up
for the wrong I've done you, but "
"Cap'n Ez," interrupted Bradley, looking keenly
at his partner, "why do you speak of getting me a
mate's job ? Is it because you feel that, now the Div-
ing Belle is gone, we can't carry through the con-
tratt?"
The senior partner's answer was prompt enough,
but he lodged at the fioor when he made it. "Can
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
368 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
we carry it through?" he rejoined. "Maybe you don't
understand how things are with us. What little money
\/e've got on hand belongs to the folks that hold the
mortgage on the schooner; we can't use it. We ain't
got any vessel now, nor any craft with power, to help
us out. We can't weather another pay-day unless
somebody lends us more money, and who'd be I
jackass enough to do that, even if I had
the brass to ask for it? No, Brad; the best
thing for you is to quit and git to sea again
afore I sink you so deep you'll never come to the
top."
Bradley leaned back in his chair and smiled.
"Cap'n," he said, "I see through you like a book.
You talk of quitting because you don't want me to
take any more chances. If you were alone in the deal
you'd go ahead somehow."
"No, I wouldn't."
"Shut up! I know you. Now, listen : I know how
we stand, but I say fight it out. Come on 1 we'll go
down to the Point and work harder than ever, nights
and Sundays and all. We'll keep a stiff upper lip, and,
by the living jingo, we'll clear the Freedom or go to
pieces with her!"
The Captain sprang to his feet. "Do you mean
that you'll stick to me in spite of what I've done?"
he cried.
"You ought to know I will. As for blame, it's as
much mine as yours. Will you stick by me and keep
up the fight?"
"Willi? ^i//I? Brad— Brad, you know "
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
"STORM ALONG, JOHN/" 369
He turned his face away, but he stretched out his'
hand. Bradley seized and wrung it.
"And now," said Bradley, "we'll go down to the
Point."
"You're not goin' to the Point to-day/ Son, you've
done more'n enough for me as 'tis; don't kill your-
self."
"Get my overcoat and hat. Pm going to the Point
now."
And he went in spite of his partner's protests and
the "old maids' " pleadings and direful prophecies
concerning his health. He was kind, but so firm that
they soon saw there was no use arguing. Miss Prissy,
however, at a great sacrifice to her pride, called the
Captain to one side and whispered:
"Cap'n Titcomb, I'm 'fraid he's goin' to his death.
Take care of him and keep him out of danger. Don't
let him git cold. If you knew how much store Tempy
and me set by him, you'd "
She could not finish.
"I know. Prissy," replied the Captain, earnestly.
"I cal'late I feel a little that way towards the boy
myself. Brad seems to have took the bit in his teeth
lately, but I'll bring him back safe or stay there my-
self for good."
Ira Sparrow took them to the Point in the You and
I. Bearse, Ellis and some of the other men went with
them. On the way Bradley and his partner discussed
the situation. The work on the barge was going on
as if nothing had happened, although the news of the
firm's loss had been telephoned to the life-saving sta-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
370 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
tion early that morning. Barney Small met them as
they climbed over the Freedom's rail. He was very
sober and shook his employers' hands with silent sym-
pathy.
"I told the boys to turn to," he said. "I didn't
know what your plans was, but I wan't gun' to quit
till you said the word."
"Much obliged, Barney," said Bradley. "Call all
hands aft. I want to talk to them."
The men came in groups, soot-streaked and per-
spiring. They gathered in the waist, whispering to
each other and glancing askance at Captain Titcomb
and Bradley, who stood upon the raised dedc by the
wheel. In most of the grimy, sunburned faces there
was a friendly concern. All looked embarrassed and
awkward. When the whole crew was standing there,
silently waiting, the Captain came forward.
"Men," he said, "there ain't any need for me to
tell you what's happened. The Divin' Belle was
burned last night, and she wan't insured. Most of
you know what dut means to me and my partner. A
good many of you are fellers I've known all my life.
Some of you like me — some, maybe, don't. You know
that ha'f of Orham is sayio' this momin' that Ez Tit-
comb's got what was comin' to him at last. All right,
the blame's mine and I'll take mv medicine without
makin' any faces over it. I don't ask anything for
myself. But I do ask you to listen to what this boy
here," laying his hand on Bradlev's shoulder, "has
got to say. That's all. Now, Brad."
There was a stir throughout the crowd as Bradley
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
"STORM ALONG, JOHN!" syt
stepped forward. He was silent for an instant, look-
ing down at them. Then he spoke.
"Fellows," he said, "when Cap'n Titcomb and I
took the contract to get this barge oS the shoals we
risked every dollar we had. More than that, we
mortgaged our new schooner to raise money to pay
you with. She was burned last night, and, as the
Cap'n said, there is no insurance. The little money
we have on hand belongs to the people who took the
mortgage. We couldn't pay you for another week's
work. So then, either we must give up the contract —
which will ruin us and drive the firm out of the wreck-
ing business for good — or we must come to you with
another proposition. I think every man who has
worked for us knows that we don't play favorites.
Every fellow knows that he'll be treated fair so long
as he does his work. But this I want to say — ^wc'U
stick to those who stick by us. We shan't forget our
friends. And this is our proposition : To the men
who will volunteer to help us get this barge afloat, we
will pay four dollars a day — instead of three, as
you're getting now — when we float her and get our
money. If we fail, you get nothing and so do we.
If we win, you win. We can Boat her if the
weather holds good. What I'm asking is that you
share our chances. It's up to you. What do you
say?"
Bradley stopped and put his hands in his pockets.
The men shuflled their feet and looked at each other.
One or two of them whispered behind their hands.
Then Barney Small snatched his rusty cloth cap from
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
372 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
his head, tossed it to the deck, and jumped upon it
with both feet.
"Stage is ready for Orham, South Orham, West
Hamiss and Setuckit P'int," he shouted. "Git aboard I
Come on, you lubbers [ Have me and Brad and Cap*n.
Ez got to work her off alone?" ;
Alvin Bearse struck the ex-stagc driver a resound-
ing thump in the back. "You bet you ain't I" he cried.
"I'm in I"
"Me, too!" said Ira Sparrow.
"Present and accounted for," observed Bill Tay-
lor. Ellis simply nodded and stepped forward. Oth-
ers joined them, by twos and threes.
Then Peleg Myrick sauntered to the front. "I
dunno's I jest understand what the boss wants," he
drawled; "but if there's anything me and Skeezicks
can do, why "
There was a great shout of laughter. Peleg was
indignant. "What's the matter with you?" he snort-
ed. "That dog's got a dum sight more sense than
most of them what makes fun of htm."
"Right you be 1" bellowed Barney. "Come on, you
loafers I Are you goin' to be beat by a Greaser pup —
a bald one at that?"
That settled it. There was a cheer, and the men '
began pushing each other out of the way to join the
volunteers. In a few minutes there were only five
who had not come forward.
"What's the matter with you, Lon?" asked Alvin
Bearse, sarcastically. "Be your feet asleep?"
Mr. Clark looked uneasy, but he did not move. "I
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
"STORM ALONG, JOHN!" 373
ain't used to workin* for nuthin'," he replied, sul-
lenly.
"Nor me nuther," agreed Ike Bodkin, standing by
his friend.
"Nothin' is about twice what you're wuth," cried
Barney, indignantly. "By Judas, if you can't work
you can swim ! I^t's give 'em a bath, fellers. They
need it"
He started for the frightened five. Others followed
him. There were cries of "Chuck 'em overboard I"
Bradley shouted, "Stop!"
"IjCt them alone, boys," he commanded. "Clark,
you and Ike and the rest, take one of those dories and
make for the Point. Lively I Fellows," he added,
turning to the others, "Cap'n T"itcomb and I are much
obliged. Now, then, turn to 1"
In five minutes the crowd had scattered, the engines
were puffing, and the great buckets were emptying the
coal from the Freedom's hold into the sea.
"Son," said Captain Titcomb", laying a hand on his
partner's arm, "they did that for you, not me. If we
should win out on this job, the credit'Il belong to you.
And now for it 1 It's neck or nothin' this time sure !"
And after that came work, work, work. The men
were organized into day and night gangs. Bradley
commanded the former, Captain Titcomb the latter.
The Freedom at night was a strange spectacle.
I,antcms were hung all over her deck and within her
hull. They sparkled in clusters by her hatches; they
swung beside the tackles In the rigging. The life
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
374 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
savers patrolling Setuckit beach heard, above the
crash and boom of the surf along the shore, the roar
of the falling coal and the shrill whistle of the dtmkey
' engines. Looking down through the black squares
of the hatchways, one saw active figures capering
above with shovels in their hands. Shouts came
up. Queer, distorted shadows Bickered, stretched to
gigantic size, or shrunk to those of pudgy dwarfs.
But the shadows were never still, never the same;
they were always busy.
The partners hired the You and I to do what she
could of the work the Diving Belle had been engaged
in. The lack of the schooner was a great handicap,
but they had no funds with which to hire a large
vessel.
They made their headquarters aboard the barge
now. Bradley did not go up to Orham at all. When
his day's work was over, he ate a hasty supper and
tumbled into a berth in the skipper's cabin, sometimes
to sleep, but more often to lie awake and plan for the
morrow. He was still pale and weak from the effects
of the blow on the head, but he would not take it
easy, as the Captain begged. The worry and strain
of the labor were, in a sense, reliefs to him ; they kept
him from thinking of other things.
Each morning the "old maids" telephoned to the
station to learn how he felt, and bow the work was
progressing. Bradley gathered from Miss Prissy's
anxious remarks that, in the village, the partners*
failure was regarded as a foregone conclusion. The
news made him only more determined to succeed.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
"STORM ALONG, SOHNF' 375
Cook and Sons wired daily, and every afternoon a
report was sent to them. These reports were grow-
ing more optimistic. The barge was eating her way
steadily through the shoal, and as she was lightened
she moved faster. They watched the cables as a cat
watches a rat hole, keeping them always tight. The
Captain said, "Brad, if I didn't know what was the
matter, I should b'lieve my old Sunday-school teacher
was right. He always swore I'd be hung some day,
and now all I can dream about la ropes."
The Captain's energy was s(»iiething wonderful.
A nervous man by nature, he flew from one end of the
Freedom to the other, commanding, helping, hurry-
ing. With the men he was always cheerful and sure
of success, but once in a while, alone with his partner,
he showed his real feelings. One morning, before
"turning in," he went ashore to telephone. When he
came back he called Bradley aside and said :
"Brad, Sam says the Gov'ment weather folks are
foretellin' a big storm for day after to-morrer. It's
comin' from the south and'll strike here about then.
It's a terror, they say. It worries me. I'm more scart
of a gale of wind jest now than I am of the Old
Harry himself,"
The junior partner looked troubled. "Wonder if
that's what's distressing Pcleg?" he observed. "Peleg
has been after me ever since the fire. Says he's got
something to tell me."
"He's been pesterin' me, too. I ain't had no time
to listen to his yams. Let's see him."
They sent for the weather prophet, who appeared,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
376 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
dirtier than ever. "Look here, Peleg," was the Cap-
tain's salutation. "What do we f«cd you for ? Here's
the Gov'mcnt weather sharp smelUn' out a gale, and
you ain't peeped. You'll have to put specs on your
second sight, or we'll ship a new prophet, one or
t'other."
Mr. Myrick was troubled. "Now, Cap'n Ez," he
protested, in an a^rieved tone, "ain't I been tryin' to
git at you or Brad for four days or more? / know
there was a blow comin'. She's comin' a-bilin', too.
And I don't need no specs nuthcr."
"Humph I Brad, this is the devil and all, ain't it?
That'll do, Peleg."
"But, Cap'n Ez, there's somethin' else I wanted to
tell you. I "
"Never mind now. Put it on ice. Git!"
Peleg "got," but with reluctance. He kept looking
back and shaking his head. Captain Ezra's face was
very solemn. His forehead wrinkled and he pulled
his mustache nervously.
"By crimustee!" he muttered. "We've got to do
somethin' quick. I know you don't take any stock in
Peleg, but if that gale does come, we're knocked
higher'n the main truck. She's loosenin' up so now
that a tug might help us. I can git a little one from
Vineyard Haven, skipper, engineer and all, for forty
dollars a day."
"But they won't work on spec."
"No. I'm goin' to Wellmouth to see the bank
folks. I'll tell 'em that if they ever hope to git back
the rest of the money they lent on the Divin' Belle,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
"STORM ALONG, JOHN/" 377
they must risk enough to pay for that tug. I'm goln*
now."
"But you've been up all night. Let me go. You
turn in."
"Turn in be dumed I I'd sleep about as sound as
an eel on a perch hock. I can turn in when I can't do
anything else. Good-bye. Put in your spare time
prayin' for me, will you ?"
He went to Wellmouth, saw the people at the bank,
and, as he said, "talked from his boots up." At
twelve o'clock of the following day the little tug put
in an appearance. She got a grip on the Freedom's
bow and pulled with the tide.
The expected gale did not come that day. But the
next afternoon the sky was overcast and the sun dis-
appeared behind angry clouds. It was blowing fresh
when Bradley, worn out, went to his berth at nine
o'clock. He had fought against going at all, but Cap-
tain Titcomb said, "Put in an hour or two anyway.
I'll call you if you're wanted."
He called him before the second hour was up.
"Come on deck, Brad," he cried, excitedly. "That
sou'easter's on the road and it's backin' up the biggest
tide ever I saw. 'Tain't high water till two, but she's
pretty nigh as high as usual now."
The junior partner hurried on deck. The wind
was sinpng in the rig^'ng and the waves were rushing
past the barge, slapping furiously at her as they
passed. The night was a dead black and the surf on
the ocean side of the Point bocnned like heavy artil-
lery.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
378 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"IVe sent ashore for the day shift," said the Cap-
tain. "We've got to malce our fight now. Looks as
if 'twas out last chance, and a mighty slim one."
The dories brought the tired men from the beach.
They had worked hard all day, but they were ready
to work still harder now. They realized that, one
way or another, this was the end of the' big job.
The little tug, bouncing up and down on the wares,
was throwing her whole weight on the tow line. Alvin
Bearse stood by the donkey engine, ready to take in
every inch of the cable. ,The partners were in the
bow. The buckets were Hying fcom the hold.
"She gained a heap last tide," murmured the Cap-
tain. "This extry high water and the waves ought to
help her like fun. But I'm 'frald 'twon't be enough,
and to-morrer the sou'castcr'll land with both feet."
Waiting was the hardest thing. A half hour seem-
ed longer than an ordinary day. The wind gained in
force, little by little. The tide crept up the barge's
side. At one o'clock it was far higher than it had
ever reached before, and so powerful was its rush
that the huge hull quivered in its grasp. The water,
seen by the lantern's light, was the color of chocolate,
streaked and marbled with lines and eddies of foam.
Half-past one. The Captain put his watch in his
pocket and wiped his forehead.
"I know how it feels when you're waitin' to be
hung," he observed. "Thirty minutes for the firm to
live, Brad; then "
A mighty blow from a wave, a tremble, and then a
roll. The lanterns in the rigging spun around in cir-
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
"STORM ALONG, JOHN!" 379
des. The men on the deck and below fell in heaps.
The Freedom lifted, straightened, and began to rock
in her "cradle." The cables sagged into loops. Their
silent partner, the Tide, had come to the firm's rescue.
Bradley got upon his feet. "Haul tautl" he
screamed. Before the order was given Bearse was
back at his engine. The windlass shrieked.
Captain Titcomb roared through his speaking
trumpet. The towboat shot forward, then back, her
screw threshing the water. The little You and I
bobbed beside her; she was pulling, too.
And then, a long scraping, breathless interval. A
halt, a shock, and, pushing a wall of sand before her,
the Freedom plunged into deep water.
There was no cheering. A subdued murmur, like
ik sigh, came from the crowd on her deck. Men drew
sooty arms across wet foreheads and looked at each
other without speaking. She was off the shoal, but
far from being out of danger yet. She must be got
over into the deep hole behind the Point, where she
could safely ride out the coming gale. And to get
her into this haven there was only the litde tug to
depend upon. Could the tiny craft do it in that wind
and sea? If not, then the barge would almost surely
drag her anchors, would strike again, and then — ^well,
then all the work, and the triumph so nearly won,
would count for nothing.
They brought her up to her anchors, out in the
middle of the channel. There they waited for the
tide to turn. The silence was heart-breaking. Only
now and then did anyone speak. In clusters by the
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
38o PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
rail they stared at the big waves and the foam-streaks
gliding by. At last Captain Titcomb snapped his
watcbcase shut, and shouted through his trumpet.
The towboat puffed into position. The anchors were
lifted from the bottom. The time for the final test
had come.
Then the little tug showed what she was made of.
Coughing, panting like a buU-dog straining at a chain,
she pulled at that hawser. And, slowly at first, but
gaining headway as she moved in the dead water of
the slack of the tide, the Freedom followed her
through the channel around the edge of the shoal into
the cove — and safety. At ten minutes to four that
morning the last big anchor was sent down.
"There 1" shouted Captain Titcomb. "She'll stay
where she is now if it blows hard enough to frazzle
out a handspike. Boys, the job's done. Knock off 1"
They answered him with a cheer that woke the cat
from his sleep beneath the stove at the lighthouse.
The tug took them to the Point. They perched all
over her, heedless of the cold and the flying spray.
The men were wildly excited over the unexpected
good luck. They cheered the partners again and again
and gave three groans for the "quitters," meaning
Mr. Claric and his friends. Pelcg Myrick was bear-
ing his concertina to safe quarters In the shanty, and
they insisted that he should play it. Peleg protested
that it was too wet for music on board that tug, but
they threatened to heave the "push-and-pull-pianner"
overboard if he didn't play.
"Play somethin' we can sing," ordered Bill Taylor.
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
"STORM ALONG, JOHN!" 38 1
Peleg struck up a doleful dirge of the sea. It was
loaded to the gunwale with wrecks and disasters.
"Belay that!" cried Barney Small. "We don*t
want no Come-all-ye's. That's the tune that soured
the milk. Give us a hoe-down."
The musician considered. Then he burst into the
air that every fisherman knows :
"The grub is in the galley and the rum is in the jug —
Storm along, John I John, storm along !
The skipper's from Hyannis and he gives us bully
mug-
Storm along, storm along, John I"
"Chorus I" howled Barney, waving his cap. They
joined in with a whoop :
"Storm along, John I John, storm along I
Ain't I glad my day's work's done I
Storm along, John I John, storm along I
Ain't I glad my day's work's done!"
Bradley stood by the back door of the big shanty,
looking out at the storm. The first sickly light of
morning was streaking the dingy, tumbled sky. In-
side the building the men were keeping up their cele-
bration. No one had suggested turning in.
Captain Tltcomb came around the comer. "There
you are, hey I" he exclaimed, with a breath of relief.
**BIamed if I didn't begin to be afraid you'd tumbled
overboard. Well, son, we did it I by crimus, we did
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
38a PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
it ! thanks to the good Lord ior sendin' that whoopin*
big tide. Titcomb and Nickerson ain't ready for the
undertaker yit. Now you can go up to Orham and
tell Gus Baker somethin' wuth while."
Bradley shrugged his shoulders. Now that the
strain was over, and they had won, the thoughts that
he had put aside were coming back. He was realiz-
ing that the firm's success didn't mean much to him.
After all, what did he really care?
"I guess Gus wouldn't be greatly interested," he
said.
The Captain seized htm by the shoulders and spun
him around. "Look here, son!" he cried. "What
fool idea have you got in your 'head ? What's the
matter with you ? Wouldn't be interested! the girl
that risked her life to haul you out of the drink!"
Bradley shook his head. "I guess you forget that
Hammond was in the drink, too," he said.
Captain Titcomb smote 'his partner a blow in the
chest.
"You crazy loon I" he shouted. "Is that what's
ailin' you ? Do you s'pose she cares a hurrah in To-
phet for that scamp ? Listen to me I I was closer'n
anybody to Gus when she rowed acrost the harbor
that night. Sam was right under the bow of her skiff.
He hailed her. She saw him — looked right at him ,
But she never reached out a hand. Left him to drown,
like the dumcd rat he Is, and went on after you. After
you, d'you understand ? Does that look "
"Stop I" Bradley's eyes were ablaze. "Is that
true? Say that again I'*
C,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
"STORM ALONG, JOHN/" 383
"True? Say it again? I'll sing it, or swear it on
the Bible if you want me to. Why, you ought to git
down and crawl to that girl. She's Hi ! where
you goin' ?"
There was no answer. Bradley was running at
full speed for the beach. A few minutes more and he
was in the You and I, heading across the bay, through
^ the rising storm and in the dull morning light, bound
for Orham.
And behind him, from the shanty, floated the
chorus:
"Storm along, John! John, storm along I
Ain*t I glad my day's work's done I
Storm along, John I John, storm along I
Ain't I ^d my day's work's DONE I"
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CHAPTER XXII
THANKSGIVING.
GUS rose early that morning. The st<mn had
awakened her. She pulled aside the window
shade and peered out at the bare branches of
the silverleaf beating and whipping in the wind, at
the sheets of rain scudding across the little pond in the
pasture, at the whitecaps in the inlet and harbor and
at the angry sea outside. Down in the village the
storm signals were flying from the pole on the cupola
of "Cy" Warner's observatory. The southeast gale,
foretold by the newspapers, had come.
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THANKSGIVING 385
She saw the lighthouse on Baker's Beach, a smalt
shadowy dot in the distance. Beyond it was the bay,
and miles beyond that lay Setuckit Point. Only the
landward end of the long beach was visible through
the smears of wind>driyen rain, but she gazed in that
direction for minutes.
Grandmother Baker was still asleep when Gus
came downstairs. The girl went out into the kitchen,
where Winficld, gray-muzzled and rheumatic, came,
stretching and yawning, to meet her. She fixed the
fire in the range, filled the teakettle, and, putting on
her apron, began mixing the rye muffins for break-
fast. Every now and then she left her work to
go to the window. The storm was growing steadily
worse.
The muffins were ready and she put them in the
oven. She went to the sink and pumped the tin hand
basin full of water; but before her fingers touched it
she heard the yard gate shut with a bang. She
thought that "Blount's boy" must be coming with the
morning's milk, and stepped to the outside door to
meet him, lifting the hook from the staple.
The door opened and Bradley Nickerson came
in.
He wore no overcoat or oilskins, and his clothes
were wet through. The rain poured from the visor
of his cap, from his sleeves and the hem of his jacket.
His face was dotted with drops, like beads of per-
spiration. He did not wipe them away, but stood
there, on Mrs. Baker's cherished ingrain carpet, dip-
ping and looking at the girl before him.
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386 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
She did not seem to notice hts condition, nor appear
astonished at his coming. Her lirst words were
strange ones.
"Oh I" she cried. "Is she lost?"
"Lost?" he repeated. "Lost?"
"Yes, yes! the barge? Has the gale wrecked
her?"
Bradley seemed to be waking from a dream. "Oh,
the barge !" he answered slowly. "The barge ? Oh I
she's all right. We got her off."
Gus gave a little sob of joy. Her eyes filled with
tears. "I'm so glad!" she exclaimed. "I was
afraid "
He interrupted her by stepping forward and seiz-
ing her hands.
"Gusl" he begged. "Oh, Gus! do you love me?"
She did not hesitate nor seem surprised. "Yes,"
she said simply, looking up at him.
For an instant he returned the look. Then the re-
action came. He swayed, sank to his knees, and cried
like a child, hiding hi^ face in her apron.
And like a child she soothed him, stroking his wet
hair, and crying silently in sympathy.
"Oh, my dear I" he pleaded, over and over again.
"I've behaved like a foolish child. Can you forgive
me?"
She smiled like the sun shining through the last
drops of a summer shower. "It was my fault, more
than yours," she said. "I was selfish and so silly, but
I didn't know — I didn't know."
"But you know now ? You're suref"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THANKSGIVING 387
The answer was not in words alone, and was en<
tirely satisfactory.
"Tell mc about the barge," she begged, a little
later. "I'm so glad and so very proud that my boy —
really my boy now — should have done such a thing.
If you know how I have woriced with you in spirit,
and how I have prayed that you might succeed. Tell
me all about it, please."
But he would not. "Never mind that, now I" he
cried. "Let's talk of something worth while. Tell
me how you rowed to the schooner the night of the
fire. You brave girl !'*
"Oh, Brad I" she answered, with a shudder. "It
was dreadful 1 I could see you on the deck with the
fire all around, and I heard people on the bridge talk-
ing about the dynamite. I kept thinking, over and
over, that I should never get there in time. Suppose
I hadn't I Oh, suppose I hadn't I"
"I wonder," he said, musingly, and with such wor-
shipping admiration in his gaze that she blushed; "I
wonder if I can ever do enough to make you happy —
as happy as you deserve to be. I shall try, but how
can I do enough?"
"Hush, dear I" she whispered softly. "Do you^
think I'm not perfectly happy now?"
He asked her to come with him to the big house.
"I want them to know," he said. "They'll guess it
quick enough when they see me, but I want them to
know. Come."
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388 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Gus hesitated. She looked rather doubtful. "Re-
member, Brad," she said, "Miss Prissy and her sister
have never liked me."
Bradley laughed, a b<^tsh, merry laugh. "That's
all right," he replied. "Come and see."
As she moved to the hodcs by the door to get her
hood, he noticed her gown.
"Why I" he exclaimed, "you're soaldng wet I I
didn't think. I'm sorry."
"Why, so I am 1 And, oh, dear, you're wet to the
skin 1 You'll get cold. And I've covered you with
fiourl"
Bradley looked down at his sodden boots and gar-
ments. His coat was ornamented with white finger-
prints. "I'm all right," he observed, referring to the
wet. "I'm used to it. But I was a brute to let you
get that way. Jiminy! look at that carpet I"
The section of the carpet near the doormat looked
like the flats at low tide. There were islands in the
shape of muddy footmarks, and channeb of dirty
water between.
"Never mind the carpet," laughed Gus. "Come;
I'm ready."
They hurried through the rain to the door of the
Allen dining-room. Bradley knocked and Miss Prissy
answered it.
"Why, Bradley I" she exclaimed. "Why, Brad-
ley!"
Miss Tempy came running from the kitchen.
"Who " she began. Then, like her sister, she
cried, "Why, Bradley!"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THANKSGIVING 389
"Aren't you going to ask us in?" queried the young
man, calmly. "It's a little bit damp out here."
Wonderingly the sisters stepped aside and Bradley
and Gus entered the dining-room. The table was set,
the fire was roaring in the big air-tight stove, the ship
at the top of the tall clock in the comer rocked behind
its tin waves, the boat load of passengers in the
"Shore to Shore" picture had advanced no further on
their journey — the room looked just the same as it
did when a little boy in a man's dingy overcoat en-
tered it on a winter's night years before. Nothing
was changed, nothing looked older — except the sis-
ters and the boy.
"Has anything happened?" asked Miss Tempy,
anxiously. Miss Prissy did not speak; she was look-
ing at Gus.
"Miss Prissy and Miss Tempy," Bradley began,
"I've got good news for you. The Freedom came off
the shoal last night; she's anchwed behind the Point,
safe and sound."
Miss Tempy cried out and clasped her hands. Her
sister's face lit up, and she opened her lips; but she
did not speak ; she CHily looked at Gus.
"But that isn't the best news," Bradley went on,
"Gus has promised to marry me."
Again Miss Tempy cried out, but in a different
tone. And still Miss Prissy was silent. Her sister
came forward and tremblingly took her arm.
"Aren't you glad?" asked Bradley.
Miss Prissy's lip quivered. "Yes," she faltered,
"I know we ought to be glad. She's a good girl, I'm
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390 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
sure, and she saved you from drowning. But it's
hard "
She stopped and turned away. Miss Tempy put an
arm about her waist.
it was Gus herself who did precisely the right
thing. She went straight up to Miss Prissy and toolc
her hands.
"Try to like me." she pleaded. "Please try, be-
cause — because / like Brad very much, too."
And then Miss Prissy threw her arms about the
girl's neck and kissed her. "Bless you, dearie," she
said. "I do like you and I am glad Bradley has chose
so well. It's only because we've had him to ourselves
so long that Ah, well I Tempy, we mustn't be
selfish old women."
Gus kissed them both, and all three cried a little.
And with those tears the last scrap of resentment
against the "dog girl" was washed away.
From across the yard came the sound of a window
being raised. Mrs. Baker was heard calling. "Gusty !"
she screamed. "Gus-tee I"
Gus ran to the door. "What Is it. Grandma?" she
asked.
"Is that where you be? The muffins are burned
black as a coal, and the kitchen's full of smoke. Cat's
foot 1 I never saw such a girl I"
Gus ran home laughing. Bradley turned to find
Miss Tempy staring at him. "My sakes alive I" she
cried wildly, rushing to the kitchen. "Prissy, the
boy's wet soppin', soakin' through! Fetch me tht
milk, and that pepper shaker, quick !'*
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THANKSGIVING 391
Bradley swallowed the last drop of the "pepper
tea" — he was in a mood where nothing short of a
gallon would have daunted him-~and hastened up-
stairs to put on dry clothes. When he came down he
went through the motions of eating breakfast, and
answered, as best he could, the hundred and one ques-
tions regarding the fioating of the Freedom that the
"old maids" and Clara asked. He had been up prac-
tically all night, but was too excited to think of sleeps
and, remembering how unceremoniously he had de-
serted Captain Titcomb, decided to go down to the
post-office and telephone to the Point.
The storm was in full blast by this time. The wind
screamed through the tree tops and the thick ropes of
rain shot downward with savage force. As he en-
tered the post-office the postmaster called to him
through the little window in the centre of the frame
of mail boxes.
"Hi, Brad I" he hailed. "Is that you? I jest sent
a boy uptown after you. Cap'n Ez has been keepin'
the telephone hot for the last ha'f hour. He wants
to talk to you the worst way,"
Bradley was alarmed. Had anything happened to
the Freedomf He entered the telephone closet, stood
his drenched umbrella in a comer, and gave the four
rings which made up the Setuckit Point call.
The wire buzzed and hummed like an overturned
bee hive. The receiver at his ear wailed and screeched
like a banshee. At length a faint "Hellol" answered
his call.
"Hello!" he shouted. "That you, Cap'n Knowles?
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394 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Yes, this is Brad Nickerson. I want to talk with
Cap'n Ez. Can you get him for me?"
The life^aver laughed. There was more buzzing
and bumming. Then Captain Titcomb's voice rose
above the music of the storm.
"Hello, partner I" it called. "That you? You
don't say I Well, this is Titcomb. No, the /^r«(/o«i'j
all serene; she'll ride it out as slick as a duck in a
bucket. But there's a feller here wants to talk with
you. Prick up your ears now I"
Bradley heard his partner laugh. Then another
voice began — a drawling, high-pitched voice.
*'Is that you, Bradley?" it droned. "This is me
talkin'. Do you hear?"
"Met Who's me?"
"Me, Peleg — Peleg Myrlck. Cap'n Ez wants to
know what I'd better do with the dynamite I've got
buried under my shanty? I'm scart to death of it."
"The dynamite? What dynamite ?"
"The dynamite I took off the Divin' Belle the day
afore she was burnt. Cap'n Ez ordered me to take
it all out, so I done it the next forenoon. What'll I do
with it? I've been tryin' to tell you'n' the Cap'n
about it, but you never give me no chance. Skeezicks
is the divil to dig, and if he scratches that stuff up,
why "
"Stop!" Bradley shouted it. "Wait a minute 1
Peleg, what are you talkin' about? Do you mean
there was no dynamite aboard the Diving Belle when
she burned?"
"Ya-as. I took it all out that momin'. What'll "
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THANKSGIVING 393
Again Bradley shouted, "Stop I" He wanted to
think. If there was no dynamite aboard the schooner,
why — ^why then the insurance could be collected.
If His heart sank again.
"I'm afraid that won't do, Peleg," he called.
"She certainly blew up. I heard her, and felt
the shock under water. Everybody on the hill
heard the explosion and saw It, too. No, Peleg.
Much obliged, but I guess you must have left some
of it."
The wire whirred and sang. Then the drawling
voice went on. It said :
"Cap'n Ez wants to know if the explosion wan't
pretty small for a dynamite one — now that you come
to think of it. He says, what about the gasoline
tanks ?"
The gasoline tanks t The gasoline for the engine I
It had been stowed In the bow of the schooner.
The receiver fell from Bradley's hand. He stared
at the calendar on the wall of the telephone booth.
*******
Thanksgiving came late that year, but it was a
beautiful day when it did come. Clear and frosty,
with the tingle of early winter in the breeze, and a
thin skim of ice along the edges of the brooks and
the ponds in the pasture. Not a vestige of haze on
the horizon. The sea a deep rich blue, with the white
sails scattered lightly over it like fallen rose petals.
A salty tang of the ocean in the air, the savor of wide,
clean distances and rolling billows. A day to set one's
shoulders back and make him grateful to the God
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394 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
who gives life and health. An ideal Thanksgiving
Day.
Bradley, with an expression of serene contentment
on his face, was leaning on the fence by the Allen
barn, gazing out across the inlet and the harbor. Cap-
tain Titcomh leaned beside him, smoking a cigar. He
also looked like a thoroughly happy man.
And the Captain had reason to be happy. The
Freedom had been towed up to Boston and Cook and
Son had forwarded a check for the amount of the
contract, accompanying it with an enthusiastic letter
of approval and congratulation. Obcd Nickcrson,
after a thorough cross-questioning of Peleg Myrick
and the partners — whose statements were substanti-
ated by Barney Small, Bcarse and the rest — had writ-
ten to Boston recommending the payment of the in-
surance on the Diving Belle, The newspapers had
given much space to the clearing of the Freedom
under such adverse circumstances, and, from this ad-
vertising, had followed the receipt of many communi-
cations from skippers and ship-owners who had
anchor-dragging or other wrecking work to be done.
Also— and this was no small help to the Captain's
happiness — he had made his peace with the "old
maids." The burning of the schooner, Bradley's in-
jury, and the fight for the firm's life that followed,
had diverted the minds of the sisters from the shock
caused by the disclosure of Captain Ezra's love affair.
They had had time to think it over, and, while they
agreed that the Captain was making a woeful mis-
take in marrying a "young, thoughtless girl," still,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THANKSGIVING 395
as Miss Prissy said, "He's old enough to know his
own mind, and 'tain't for us to try to change it, no
matter how much we may pity him."
Forgiving Clara was a much harder matter. Miss
Tempy especially was inclined to blame the girl for
"settin' a trap for the Cap'n — he bein' such an honest,
unsuspectin' man — and leadin' him on." But they
forgave her finally, thanks to the influence of Bradley
and Gus. And so Captain Titcomb had been invited
to the Thanksgiving dinner, and the "old maids" and
Grandmother Baker and Gus and Clara were now at
work in the kitchen preparing the feast.
"Cap'n," observed Bradley, "I'm afraid our get-
ting the Freedom clear has put the Jeremiah Club out
of business. They won't have anything to talk
about."
The Captain took his cigar from his lips and blew
a cloud of smoke. "Oh, I've fixed that all right I" he
replied. "They're puttin' in their time findln' fault
with Clara for marryin' a man twice as old as she is.
Brad," he added, "have you made up your mind yit
about that Cook offer ?"
The letter from Cook and Son had contained some-
thing beside the check and the congratulaticwis. The
firm was the largest owner In a copper mining prop-
erty on the shores of Lake Superior. This property
was to be developed in the near future. A harbor was
to be dredged and built, a Seet of tugs and barges was
to be employed. Mr. Cook had offered to put Cap-
tain Titcomb and Bradley in command of this fleet,
and the salaries entailed were by no means small.
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396 PAR TNERS OF THE TIDE
Bradley took from his pocket the envelope zaritaxOf
ing the offer. He turned it slowly about in his hands.
"Cap'n Ez," he said, "IVe made up my mind, sub-
ject, of course, to your approval. The offer is a good
one, the wages are as high as our earnings in the
wrecking business are likely to be for some years.
And they're sure."
His partner lotted <Usappointed, but he nodded
and said, "Yes, that's so."
"But," went on Bradley, "in spite of that I d<m't
like the idea of quitting. So — if you agree with me — r
I say let's stick it out down here."
The Captain thumped the fence-rail. "Good
enough I" he exclaimed. "That's what / say. We're
our own bosses, the outlodc's better'n we had a reason
to expect at the end of our fust season, and I b'lieve
we can build up a good trade. We've made a fair
profit on the Freedom, spite of the heavy expense, and
we can have a new vessel built and still have cash
enough on band to put some good-sized jobs through.
I'm with you I We'll stick it out.
"To tell the truth," he continued, "X don't much
take to the idea of gittin' back under 'owners' orders'
ag'in. That is to say, I don't wake up nights and cry
for it. The monkey does the dancin', but it's the
organ man on t'other end of the string that gits the
money. For a feller built on my lines it's too fasci-
natin' to be safe, and What on airth ?"
He pointed to the road. Along the sidewalk came
shambling a tall, red-whiskered figure, with the re-
mains of what had once been a fur cap on its head,
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THANKSGIVING 397
and a dirty worsted tippet knotted about its neck.
Bradley looked, and all at once he was back in a
rocking, stuffy stagecoach, with the cold night air
blowing about his feet and the snow pelting against
the windows. He could even smell the musty straw
on the coach floor.
"Do you see it, too?" asked Captain Titcomb, anx-
iously. " 'Cause if you dwi't, I'm goin' to turn Speri-
tu'iist right off. Sol! Hey, Sol!"
The figure stopped and looked up and down the
road. Upon a repetition of the Captain's hail it
turned its eyes in the right direction.
"Hi, there !" it bellowed.
"Foolish Sol Newcombl" exclaimed the Captain.
"Blessed if it ain't! Thought he must be dead by
this time. Come on, Brad I"
They went down to the gate and the figure came to
meet them.
"For the land sakes, Sol!" said Captain Titcomb,
"where'd you light from?"
Mr. Newcomb looked sadly at the sky. "I've been
livin' over to East Wellmouth," he answered in a
drawl that made Peleg's seem like rapid transit. "But
I moved back ag'in to where I used to be. 'Twas too
lively over there. Too much goin' on."
Captain Titcomb nodded appreciatively. "Yes,"
he agreed. "I sh'd think 'twould be. Must be many
as thirty-two folks over to East Wellmouth — not
countin' dogs."
"Ya-as," replied Sol, without enthusiasm. Then
he added, "I'm c'lectin' my road taxes."
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398 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
"You are, hey? Road taxes?"
*'Ya-as. Bill Hinckley he says to me, he says, *So!,
you walk so much I should think you'd c'lect road
taxes.' So I'm a-doin* of it."
"Good idea I About what's the rate?"
"Oh, I dunnol 'Bout ten cents, maybe."
The Captain contributed a quarter, so did Bradley.
The tax collector looked at the coins doubtfully.
"I ain't got no change," he said.
"Oh, well, that's all right. I'm behind, anyway-
Ain't paid my road taxes for — let me see — pretty
nigh fifty years. And Brad, he's payin' In advance."
Sol pocketed the money, and turned to go. He had
taken but a few steps, however, when he stopped.
"Hi, there 1" he yelled after them. "Got any ter-
backer?"
"Blessed if riiat ain't like renewin' your youth,"
observed the Captain, as they re-entered the yard.
"Takes me back to the night I first saw you. Brad.
Hum I well, I swan I"
They were both silent for a moment. Then Cap-
tain Titcomb said :
"Brad, if I hadn't tried to dive through the
Thomas Doane's plankin', and you hadn't had that
little argument with friend Burke, where do you cal'-|
late you and me'd be now ?"
The Junior partner smiled. "On board some coaster
or other, I suppose," he answered.
"Yes, I guess likely we would. I'd be runnin' that
big four-master for Williams Brothers, and you'd be
fust mate prob'Iy. Sorry?"
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gle
THANKSGIVING 399
"Not a bit."
"Me neither. If I'd stuck to the old line, I'd had
B conscience by this time that I'd have been scared to
slcef in the same bunk with. That is, if I'd lasted so
long without bein' jailed. I've been doin' consider'ble
thinkin' for the last few months, even if I ain't said
much. Brad, remember that debate you and me had
as to whether honesty was the best policy or not?"
"Yes, I remember it."
"Well, I've changed my mind some sence then.
Seein* you plow right ahead, not knucklin' to anybody,
but doin' what was right 'cause you thought 'twas
right, and havin' the respect of all hands the way you
have, has kind of set me to overhaulin' my own kit. I
ain't ready yit to say that honesty's the best policy,
fur's gittin' rich goes, but I will say this : It's mighty
nice to be able to pass a lookin' glass without feelin'
like holdin' on to your watch and hollerin' for the con-
stable. And I'll say more'n that : Brad, for what you
did that night aboard the Thomas Doane, and for
the sermon next day that led up to my telHn' Williams
Brothers to set sail to where it's everlastin' summer —
thanks."
Bradley looked at his friend. Both men were smiU
ing, but their eyes were serious enough.
"You're welcome," said the junior partner, simply.
A bell jingled loudly at the kitchen door.
"Din-ner!" called Miss Prissy, shrilly.
They walked around the comer of the bam. There
they were in the doorway, the "old maids" and Gus.
All three with smiles on their faces — the dearest faces
D,.;,l,ZDdbyG00gIC
400 PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
in the world, so Bndley thought. And over their
shoulders beamed Grandmother Baker and Clara.
"Hurry up I" cried Miss Prissy, waving the bell.
"Turkey's on the table and pttin' cold."
"What have you been talkin' about all this time?"
asked Miss Tempy.
' The Captain answered. "Oh I" he said, "bein* as
it's Thanksgivin', Brad and me have been holdin' a
special service — kind of a grace afore meat. Now,
. Tempy, live up to your name and go easy on the pep-
per tea. It biteth like a sarpent — that's no joke —
and stingeth "
"Hum I" interrupted Miss Tempy serenely; "some
folks take their pepper in tea, and Mhers seem to like
to git it by the wholesale out of the box in the closet."
At this most unexpected retort everybody laughed,
and Captain loudest of all.
"Hold on there! hold on I" he protested; "I'll hol-
ler, ' 'Nough I' Tempy, don't hit a feller when he's
down."
"If you don't march right into that dinln'-room,"
observed Miss Prissy, "you won't git any dinnei'—
pepper tea or anything else."
They went in, laughing. (b
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