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What the dickens! exclaimed Bob, following.
When Nelson reached the wheel the boats head was pointed straight for Boston. But Dan had heard him coming, and was now turning hard on the wheel.
Where do you think youre going? demanded Nelson.
Who, me? Why, Gloucester.
Well, what
Oh, Ive just been giving myself a few lessons in steering, answered Dan calmly. Ive been turning her around, you know. She works fine, doesnt she?
You crazy idiot! laughed Nelson. What do you suppose those folks in that sloop over there think of us?
Oh, they probably think were chasing our tail, answered Dan with a grin. Have you eaten all that lunch?
No, but we will if you dont hold her steady.
Thats all right, Nel; Ill keep her as straight as a die; honest Injun!
The others returned to the table and finished their repast. Then Nelson relieved Dan, and the latter went below in turn. Later he and Tom washed up the few dishes, and when they came up on deck found the Vagabond opposite Marblehead Light. It was after one oclock and considerably warmer, as the breeze had lessened somewhat. Nelson and Bob had already shed their sweaters, and the others followed suit. Nelson was pointing out the sights.
Thats Marblehead Rock over there, where they start the races from. The yacht clubs are on the other side of the Neck. Salem and Beverly are in there; see?
Whats the light ahead, to the left? asked Dan.
Bakers Island Light, answered Nelson. Only you ought to say to port instead of to the left.
Sure! Off the port bow is what I meant. A sailors life for me!
Weve got all day to make twelve miles, said Nelson, so well go inside of Bakers and keep along the shore. He turned the wheel and the Vagabond swung her nose toward the green slopes of the Beverly shore. Tom insisted on having a turn at the wheel, and so Nelson relinquished his place and went below to look after his oil cups. Under Bobs guidance, Tom held the boat about a quarter mile offshore. There was lots to see now, for the water was pretty well dotted with sailing craft and launches, and the wooded coast was pricked out with charming summer residences.
About half-past two the gleaming white lighthouse at the tip of Eastern Point was fairly in sight, and they rounded Magnolia, a cheerful jumble of hotels and cottages. A little farther on Nelson pointed out Normans Woe, a small reef just off the shore. Dan had never heard of the Wreck of the Hesperus, and Tom spouted two stanzas of it before he could be stopped. Bob had laid the chart out on the cabin roof, and was studying it intently.
Where do we anchor? he asked. According to this thing there are about forty-eleven coves in the harbor.
Well, we were in here a couple of years ago, answered Nelson, and anchored off one of the hotels to the left of that island with the stumpy lighthouse. I guess well go there to-day. Heres the bar now.
The Vagabond was tossing her bow as she slid through the long swells in company with a fishing schooner returning to port.
Adventurer, read Dan, his eyes on the bow of the schooner. Thats a good name for her, isnt it? Ill bet shes had adventures, all right.
Thats the life for you, Dan, laughed Bob. But Dan looked doubtful.
Well, I dont know, he answered. Id like to try it, though.
A long granite breakwater stretched out from the end of the point on the starboard, ending in a circular heap of rocks on which an iron frame supported a lantern. Before them stretched the long expanse of Gloucester Harbor, bordered on one side by the high wooded slopes of the mainland and on the other by the low-lying, curving shore of the Point. Far in there was a forest of masts, and, back of it, the town rising from the harborside and creeping back up the face of a hill. Launches and sailboats were at anchor in the coves or crossing the harbor, and a couple of funereal-looking coal barges were lying side by side, their empty black hulls high out of water. At Nelsons request, Tom turned the boats head toward one of the coves, and Nelson went below and reduced the speed of the engine. Then the anchor and cable were hauled out from the stern locker and taken forward. Nelson again stood by the engine and Bob took the wheel. Then
All right, called the latter, and the busy chugging of the engine ceased. Nelson hurried up, and when the Vagabond had floated in to within some forty yards of the shore the anchor was ordered down.
Aye, aye, sir! answered Dan promptly, and there was a splash. When the cable was made fast and the Vagabond had swung her nose inquiringly toward the nearest landing, the boys went below to spruce up for a visit ashore. Then the tender was unlashed from the cabin roof and lifted over the side, Dan piled in and took the oars, and the others followed. Near at hand a rambling white building stood behind the protecting branches of two giant elms.
Thats where well have dinner, said Nelson. Its a jolly old place.
Dinner! cried Tom. Me for dinner! Give way, Dan!
They dont serve it in the middle of the afternoon, though, said Nelson.
Maybe Tommy could get something at the kitchen if he went around there, Bob suggested. I dont believe hes a real cook, after all; real cooks are never hungry.
Huh! answered Tom. Im no cook, Im a chef; thats different. Chefs are always hungry.
Easy, Dan, cautioned Bob. Look where youre going if you dont want to run the landing down. Here we are, Barry; out you go!
And Barry went out and was halfway up the pier before anyone else had set foot on the landing.
CHAPTER IV IS LARGELY CONCERNED WITH SALT WATER AND SALT FISH
Lets do the town, suggested Dan.
Inquiry elicited the information that the town proper was a good two miles by road, although it was in plain sight across the harbor. By walking a block they could take a car if the cars happened to be running that day; it seemed that in Gloucester one could never tell about the street cars.
Blow the cars! said Dan. Lets walk.
So they started out, found the car tracks, and proceeded to follow them along the side of the harbor, past queer little white cottages set in diminutive gardens or nestled in tiny groves of apple trees. To their right a high granite cliff shot up against the blue sky, and was crowned with a few houses which looked as though they might blow off at the first hard wind. After three hours on the boat it felt mighty good to be able to stretch their legs again, and they made fast time. Presently they came to what at first glance seemed to be an acre or so of low white canvas tents, and Tom and Dan, walking ahead, stopped in surprise. Then
Blamed if they arent fish! exclaimed Tom. With little awnings over them to keep them from getting freckled!
What are they doing? asked Bob.
They dry them like this, answered Nelson. Theyve been cleaned and salted, you see, and when theyre dried they are packed in boxes and tubs and casks. Bob whistled expressively.
I never knew there were so many fish in the world! he exclaimed. Nelson laughed.
This is only one, he said. There are lots more fish yards just like it here.
What are they? asked Dan. Codfish?