The squire swung himself angrily out of the door and strode away down the road, flipping off the grass-tops with his cane.
Harvey and Henry Burns sat back in their chairs in amazement.
And to think that I helped that young cub bail out his boat! groaned Jack Harvey.
Henry Burns snickered.
Its no joke, Jack, he said. But I cant help thinking of that young Brackett, sitting up there on the rail and watching you work.
It is a bad scrape, too, he added, more seriously. It does mean a real lawsuit. The squire is in the mood for it; and, the worst of it, there werent any witnesses. It is his word against ours. Its a bad start for the summer, and no mistake.
A half-hour later, a procession of sober-faced boys strolled down into the village. Villagers, who had always liked Henry Burns, and had
come to like Jack Harvey since he had atoned for many past pranks by gallantry at the end of the last season, greeted the new arrivals cordially.
See you boys got into a leetle trouble with the squire, remarked one of them. Well, thats too bad. Hes a hard man when it comes to money matters. Whats that? You say young Brackett was the one to blame? Pshaw! Well, I do declare. Hm!
Down in Rob Dakins grocery store there was the usual gathering of the villagers and fishermen, lounging about, with elbows on counters, half-astride sugar and cracker barrels, and a few of the more early comers occupying the choice seats about the sheet-iron stove. This inevitable centre of attraction, having done its duty faithfully throughout the winter, was, of course, now cold and not an object of especial beauty; but it still possessed that magnetic quality that pertains to a stove in a country store, to draw all loungers about it, and make it the common meeting-place.
There was Billy Cook, from over across the cove, who was always barefoot, although a man of forty. There was Dave Benson, from the other side of the island, who had deposited a molasses-jug on the floor in a corner, and who now stood, apparently extracting some nourishment, and at least comfort, from a straw held between his teeth. There was Old Slade, from over on the bluff opposite, slyly cutting a sliver of salt fish from one in the bale upon which he sat. Also a half-dozen or more others.
To this assembled group of his townsfolk, the squire, accompanied now by his hopeful son, Harry, was holding forth, as the party of boys entered the door.
Here they be now, squire, remarked Dave Benson. Hello, boys! Ketchin any lobsters lately?
Yes, here they are, and here they shall pay! cried the squire, turning upon them.
Jack Harvey advanced toward young Brackett.
Do you dare say we ran you down? he inquired, angrily.
Yes, you did, answered young Brackett, sullenly, and sidling up close to his father.
Why, of course they did! exclaimed the squire. And it wont do them any good
But at this point his remarks were interrupted.
A strongly built, heavy-shouldered man entered the store, gave a loud, good-natured Haw! Haw! for no apparent reason except that his natural good spirits prompted him to, and bade everybody good evening in a voice that could be heard a quarter of a mile away.
Why, hello, Capn Sam, said Dave Benson, hailing him as he entered the doorway. Havent seen you much lately.
Captain Sam Curtis roared out a salutation in return. If there was a voice within a radius of twenty miles about Southport that could equal that of Captain Sam Curtis, no one had ever heard of it. It had a reputation all its own, far and wide.
Why, hello, squire, cried Captain Sam. He had failed to notice Harvey and Henry Burns for the moment in the crowd. Good evening, squire, good evening. Guess youre glad to get that ere boy of yours back again, aint yer?
Yes, answered the squire, irritably.
Well, I guess you better be! exclaimed Captain Sam. I thought he was a goner there, yesterday, when I saw the Seagull go kerflop.
What! cried the squire. You saw it? How is that? I thought you said there werent any other boats around, Harry.
The squire turned to his son; but young Harry Brackett was vanishing out the store door.
See it? I rather guess I did see it, bawled Captain Sam, warming up to his subject, while the villagers sat up and paid attention. Why, I had the spy-glass on that ere youngster for twenty minutes before he did the trick. He was a-sailing that ere boat like a codfish trying to play Home, Sweet Home on the pianner.
Nonsense! roared the now infuriated squire, who observed the audience in the store snickering and nudging one another. Nonsense, I say. He can sail a boat just as good as you can. Why, he told me, only the other day, before I let him have the Seagull at all, how he won races last summer in a yacht off Marblehead.
Mebbe so, squire, retorted Captain Sam. But he was a-sailin this ere boat of yours like a mutton-head. Haw! Haw! Thats what he was a-doin, squire.
Why, sir, squire, he was a-standing up in that boat, with his hat blown off, lookin as scared as you was last summer when you and old Witham took that sail down the bay with me. Haw! Haw! And that ere boom was a-jumpin, and that ere sail was a-slattin around like an old alpacker dress out on a clothes-line.