CHAPTER V
CAPTAIN SAMUEL GOES SHOPPING
Captain Tobin rowed toward the shore with long steady strokes. He was in no hurry as he had all the morning on his hands. He did not expect the wind to rise until the turn of the tide, which would be about noon. He was thinking of Eben, and wondering what had come over the boy to make him so docile in such a short time. He had seemed more animated than usual, and had eaten his breakfast without making any embarrassing enquiries. He had not even referred to the men searching the river for the missing girl, neither did he speak of the conversation that had taken place between his father and the man in the small boat. All this was puzzling to the captain, for it was very unlike Eben's usual manner. Was it possible that the boy knew anything about the matter, or had a hand in the affair himself? he wondered. He banished the idea, however, as too absurd to be entertained even for a moment.
Reaching the wharf, he tied the boat, and was making his way to the store when he was suddenly hailed.
"Hi, there," someone called, "let me have your boat, will you?"
Looking around, he saw the immaculately-dressed young man coming toward him from the lower side of the wharf. He knew that this must be the missing girl's lover, and he had no desire to meet him. There seemed to be no escape, however, so he was forced to stop and wait until the man sauntered up to where he was standing.
"Was ye callin' me?" the captain asked.
"I was," the man replied. "I want your boat."
"Ye do, eh? Well, I guess I want it meself more'n you do, by the look of things."
"But I want to help with the search."
"Oh, so you're Lord Fiddlesticks' son, are ye? Glad to meet ye," and the captain held out his hand. "I'm Sam'l Tobin, captain an' owner of the 'Eb an' Flo,' layin' jist out yonder."
"So I supposed," was the drawling response. "But it makes no difference to me who or what you are. You might be the devil for all I care. All I want is your small boat."
"Come, come, Mr. Lord Fiddlesticks, don't talk in sich a high an' mighty manner; it might not be good fer yer health. A young chap about your make-up tried it once upon me, but it didn't work out to his satisfaction. He acknowledged it when he got out of the hospital. See?"
"Oh, I didn't mean to offend you," and the young man retreated a few steps. "I'm all upset this morning over Miss Randall's disappearance, and so am hardly responsible for what I say. Let me have your boat, will you? I'll pay you well for it."
The captain eyed the young man critically from head to foot, especially his soft white hands. Then he shook his head in a doubtful manner.
"What's the matter?" the young man impatiently asked. "Is there anything wrong with me ?"
"That's what I'm jist tryin' to figger out. I s'pose it's really me duty to take ye home to yer ma, but I ain't got time this mornin'. Does she knew where ye are?"
"What do you mean, you ignorant clodhopper? Do you take me for a baby?"
"Not exactly, as yer too big fer one. But accordin' to yer togs one would imagine that ye've jist come from the nursery. No, it wouldn't be right to let ye have me boat, fer ye'd be sure to spile yer pretty white hands an' soil yer bib an' pinny. An' besides, if anything happened to ye, I'd be held responsible. No, ye'd better trot along home to yer mamma before she comes after ye with a strap."
The young man was now very angry, and he was about to give vent to his feelings in a furious outburst. But the stopping of an auto on the road near by suddenly arrested his attention, causing him to stare hard at the driver who had just alighted. Glad of this timely diversion, the captain moved away and made toward the store. In passing the car, he did not recognise the driver, who, with his back toward him, was examining the engine, and seemed to be heeding nothing else. But no sooner had the captain passed than he straightened himself up, cast one swift glance toward the man down on the wharf, and at once followed the captain into the store, where he stood quietly at one side without speaking to anybody.
The captain was already at the counter, fumbling with the list which had been given him. He was well acquainted with the storekeeper, a middle-aged man of genial countenance.
"Here's a list of things I want, Ezry," he explained, as he handed over the paper. "Guess ye kin make out the writin'."
The storekeeper adjusted his spectacles and studied the paper for a few minutes. Then he looked keenly at his customer, while his eyes twinkled.
"Are yer wife an' daughter with ye on this trip, Captain?" he asked. "They seem to be out of 'most everything women need. It's a wonder ye didn't get them outfitted in the city. D'ye think this is a department store? Guess they must have been studying Eaton's catalogue."
Captain Samuel coughed and shuffled uneasily.
"Why, what's on the list, Ezry?"
"Didn't ye read it?"
"No, never looked at it. I thought it was all right, an' that ye kept 'most everything here."
"Well, I don't, and never expect to. Now, look at this, for instance," and the storekeeper touched the paper with the forefinger of his right hand. "A kimona, just think of that! I never had a call for such a thing before."
"Is that down thar?" the captain enquired, reaching for the list.
"Sure, ye can see for yourself. But that isn't all. A pair of pyjamas is wanted, bedroom slippers, table-cloth, and napkins. Say, Captain, your wife an' daughter must be getting some new fandangled notions all of a sudden. Going to use them on the boat, eh?"
The captain made no reply. His face was very red, and he was mopping his forehead with a big pocket-handkerchief.
"It does work ye up, doesn't it?" the storekeeper chuckled.
"Work me up! Why, I'm bilin' hot. But fer the love of heaven, isn't there anything on that list ye do keep? Guess we'll have to send to Eaton's after all, only them things are wanted right away."
The storekeeper again studied the list, and with a pencil scored out the articles he did not have.
"I haven't that, nor that, nor that," he commented.
"Well, fer goodness' sakes what have ye got, Ezry? Tell me quick, fer
I can't stay here all the mornin'."
"Nor that, nor that, nor that," the storekeeper continued. "Ah, I have that," and his face brightened. "Yes, I've got a tooth-brush, or I did have one a year ago. Let me see." He turned and began to rummage in a dilapidated show-case, and at length brought forth with triumph the required article. He laid it carefully on the counter, and resumed his study of the list. A brush and comb were the next requisites, and these, after considerable searching, were produced.
"Yer doin' fine, Ezry," the captain encouraged. "Don't work too hard, though I would like to git back to me boat before the river freezes. I don't want to lay out thar all winter. What's next on the program?"
"A box of choc'lates, hard-centres. I don't keep 'em, Captain. I've only mixed-candy an' conversation lozenges. Maybe they 'd like some of them."
"All right, put 'em in; it's all the same to me. I never eat sich things. Is that all?"
"Yes, I guess that's all I can supply," the storekeeper replied as he finally viewed the list. "If ye wanted molasses, sugar, or anything in the hardware line I could accommodate ye. But kimonas, pyjamas, bedroom slippers, and such things, I don't carry."
During this conversation the auto driver had been an attentive listener. At times it was difficult for him to refrain from laughing outright, especially at the captain's embarrassment. It was not for amusement, however, that he was there, but for something far more important. What he learned seemed to please him, so with the light of satisfaction in his eyes, he left the store and returned to his car. When the captain came out a few minutes later he greeted him in a friendly manner.
"Fine morning, Captain," he accosted.
"Hello, John!" the captain replied. "I didn't know it was you. Where did ye drop from?"
"Oh, just on my way from the city. I didn't expect to meet you here."
"An' I didn't expect to be here, John. I've been hung up fer hours, an' can't git a breath of wind. I should be loadin' at Spoon Island by this time."
"Perhaps a rest will do you good, Captain. A trip ashore once in a while will do you no harm. You have been shopping, I see? I didn't know your wife and Flo were with you on this trip. They were home when I left."
"What makes ye think they're with me?" the captain somewhat sharply asked.
"Oh, it was merely a surmise on my part," and the young man smiled. "I happened to overhear the conversation between you and the storekeeper; that was all."
"Well, s'pose I was buyin' things fer me wife an' daughter, what of it?
Why should ye think they're on the boat when I buy things they want?"
"It was just a notion on my part. I happened to hear what they wanted, and naturally wondered why you should go to a store like that when you could have got all the articles in the city to far better advantage. It's none of my business, of course, only it made me somewhat curious."
The captain made no reply but turned and looked out upon the river, where the men were searching for the missing girl. The young man, too, looked, and there was an amused expression in his eyes as he at length turned them upon the captain's face.
"They don't seem to be meeting with much success, do they?" he casually remarked.
"Seems not," was the quiet reply.
"Perhaps they are not searching in the right place. They may be all astray, and the girl is not drowned after all."
"What makes ye think that?" the captain somewhat anxiously asked.
"Oh, certain things have made me come to the conclusion that the girl did not drown herself. It would be a most unlikely thing for Miss Randall to do. She is not that kind."
"H'm, that's no reason," the captain retorted. "Ye never know these days what notions gals'll take."
"I believe you are right," and the young man smiled. "They do take queer notions at times, as was proven by the list of articles you tried to buy in the store just a few minutes ago."
"Hey, what's that yer sayin'?" the captain demanded, swinging swiftly around. "What d'ye mean by them words?"
"Don't you know, sir? I think you understand my meaning. Look well after Miss Randall, and tell her to keep out of sight. So long. I hope to see you later."
The young man sprang into his car, and in another minute was speeding up the road, leaving the captain staring after him, dumb with astonishment.
CHAPTER VI
EBEN MAKES A DISCOVERY
After Eben had eaten his breakfast he sat for a few minutes watching his father as he rowed ashore. He next turned his eyes upon the boats searching for the missing girl. He even smiled, a somewhat unusual thing for him, especially at such an early morning hour. He was sitting upon deck, leaning against the mast full in the glare of the slowly-strengthening sun. Presently his left hand was run through his mass of tousled hair, while his right came down with a resounding whack upon his knee. Something out of the ordinary was amusing this tall ungainly youth which would have surprised his father had he been present.
At length he rose slowly to his feet, yawned, stretched himself, and moved cautiously along the deck toward the cabin. He walked around it once without deigning to look at the open door. The second time he shot a swift furtive glance, and caught a fleeting glimpse of someone in the cabin. His heart gave a great leap and he was about to hurry on his way, when a merry laugh arrested his steps, causing him to turn and peer down into the cabin. Then his cheeks crimsoned as he saw the girl standing at the foot of the steps, her face wreathed with a sunny smile.
"Don't be afraid; I won't hurt you," she told him. "I'm as harmless as a kitten."
Instantly Eben's mouth expanded into a grin, and he looked sheepishly around. He knew that he was on forbidden ground, and this added to his embarrassment. At the same time it gave him a certain degree of pleasure, as forbidden sweets are always the most delectable.
"Come on down," the girl invited. "I want someone to talk to, for it is rather lonesome here."
"You'd better come up," Eben found voice to reply. "It's nicer here in the sun."
"I know it is," and the girl's face became sober in an instant. "But I am afraid."
"What are ye afraid of?"
"Those men in the boats, of course."
"That they'll git ye?"
"Yes."
"But they won't out there, though," and again Eben grinned. "I knew ye didn't drown yerself. Ye'd be a fool to do it, wouldn't ye?"
"How did you know?"
"Oh, I saw ye last night headin' fer the 'Eb an' Flo.'"
"Did you see me come on board?"
"No, it was too dark. But when dad wouldn't let me go into the cabin, I guessed what was up. It was nicer down there than floatin' in the river, wasn't it? Wonder where ye'd be now, an' how ye'd feel if ye had drowned yerself."
The girl shivered, and her face turned white.
"Are you hungry?" she unexpectedly asked.
"Why, I jist had me breakfast."
"I know you did, but your father said you are always hungry. Suppose you come down and I'll give you something more. You didn't have much to eat."
To his own surprise Eben at once obeyed, lumbered down the steps, and seated himself by the little table. The girl placed a boiled egg before him, cut a slice of bread, and poured out a cup of coffee.
"I cooked one egg too many," she explained.
"Lucky ye did," Eben replied, as he broke the shell. "Say, it's great havin' you here. What's yer name!"
"Only Jess. I hope you will like it."
"I like it already. I think it's nice. An' say, I won't let anyone git ye."
"That's kind of you. But I thought you hated girls."
"Who told ye that?"
"Your father, of course. Isn't it true?"
"Mebbe it is, an' mebbe it isn't. An' mebbe after all it is. I never did take much stock in girls."
"Why?"
"Dunno, 'cept it's me make-up. Girls are too fussy fer me, so I like to keep out of their way."
"But you came my way this morning, though," the girl smilingly reminded.
"Oh, you're different. I like what you did. You came here to be protected, an' I'm goin' to see that ye are. I won't let them men git ye."
"What will you do if they come on board?"
Eben dropped his knife and fork suddenly upon the table, while his hands clenched hard.
"They won't come on board," he declared. "They'll do well to git close to this boat. Look," and he pointed to a rifle standing in one corner of the cabin.
"Oh, you mustn't shoot," the girl protested. "You might kill someone, and then you would be hung for murder."
"No, it's not likely I'll shoot, though I'll feel like doin' it if them men come snookin' 'round here. I'll jist keep the gun in me hands, that's all. Guess that'll be hint enough fer them fellers."
"Oh, I wish a strong wind would blow," the girl fervently exclaimed. "I want to get away from here, and out of sight of those men searching for me over there."
"It does give one a kind of creepy feelin', doesn't it?" Eben replied. "But I think we'll git a breeze when the tide comes up, an' then we'll show ye what this old tub kin do."
"Won't that be great! I have often longed for a sail on the river in a boat such as this. How you must enjoy this life. I know I should."
"Would ye?" Eben asked. "Well, I guess ye'd soon git tired of it if ye had to do it all the time. It makes a mighty big difference whether ye do a thing fer pleasure or fer business. I don't like it, anyway, an' I'm goin' to git clear of it as soon as I kin. Mebbe I'll follow your example, an' run away."
"Where do you want to go to, and what do you want to do?"
"I want to go to college an' learn to be an engineer."
"An engineer! What, to run an engine on the railroad?"
"No, not that. I want to be a civil engineer, to build bridges, an' do sich things. I'd like it better'n anything else."
"Why don't you, then? Won't your father let you?"
"No. He thinks it's all nonsense. He says he's raisin' me to take charge of this boat some day. But, gee whiz, he's countin' on the wrong chicken. Anyway, by the time dad's done sailin' this boat, it'll be fit fer the scrap heap."
"Why do you want to be a civil engineer?" the girl asked. "Do you know anything about the work?"
"Y' bet I do," and Eben smacked his lips. "I've been studyin' bridges fer years, 'specially the one across the falls. I've a lot of drawin's of it. Would ye like to see 'em?"
"Indeed I should," was the interested reply. "I used to draw some myself."
"Ye did!" Eben looked at the girl in admiration. "I never met anyone before who could draw. Hope ye won't make fun of my scrawls."
"Certainly not. You don't think I would do such a thing, do you?"
Eben made no reply as he was already on his feet, groping with his right hand upon a shelf over his bunk. In a few minutes he brought down a well worn scribbler, opened it, and laid it with pride upon the table.
"There's my drawin's," he began. "No one but meself ever sot eyes upon 'em before."
"You didn't even show them to your parents or sister?" the girl asked in surprise, as she looked upon the first drawing presented to view.
"Indeed I didn't. They'd only make fun of me if I did. I hate to be laughed at, don't you? It riles one all up."
"It does sometimes," the girl acknowledged. "But, then, it is better not to mind what people say or do, but just go on with our work. Why, what nice drawings you have here. I can hardly believe you did them yourself without anyone to teach you."
Eben made no reply, but his eyes shone with complete satisfaction. The girl was seated at the table and he was standing by her side. A thrill of joy possessed him such as he had never experienced before. This beautiful girl appreciated his drawings, and that was enough.
The sketches were crude, but they showed considerable signs of promise, and this Jess realised as she carefully examined them. One bridge, especially, arrested her attention, the one which spanned the falls.
"You must have made a long study of this," she remarked, "I recognised it at once."
"I did, Miss. I spent a whole day there once, an' every time we go under it I see something new. I ain't got it quite right yit."
For a few minutes the girl examined the drawings without speaking. There was a far-away look in her eyes when at length she pushed the book a little from her.
"Your drawings are remarkably good, considering everything," she told him. "But how would you like for me to give you some lessons?"
"How would I like it?" Eben gasped in amazement. "You give me lessons in drawin'!"
"And why not? We shall have time, I am sure, and I have not yet forgotten all I learned."
"Oh, it would be great! But what about dad? I'm afraid he won't let ye. He might think it will spoil me from bein' a captain some day. He wants me to study navigation, or something like that, which I hate."
Before any reply could be made, a slight shock was heard against the side of the boat which startled them both. The girl sprang to her feet, and looked up the stairway. Then the sound of footsteps was heard upon the deck above.
"They are after me!" she gasped. "Oh, where can I hide?"
"Stay right here," Eben ordered, as he leaped toward the stairs. "I'll fix 'em."
His foot had barely touched the first step when his father's body bulked large in the doorway above. Instinctively Eben drew back, and stood on the defensive, with every nerve strung to the highest tension.
Slowly the captain descended, and when he had reached the bottom of the stairway he stopped and looked around. In an instant he comprehended the situation, and a twinkle appeared in his eyes as he turned them upon his son.
"Is this the way ye obey orders?" he demanded. "Didn't I tell ye not to come near this cabin?"
"I know ye did, but that was last night," was the surly reply. "Ye didn't tell me to stay away this mornin'."
The captain stared at his son for a few seconds as if he had not heard aright.
"Well, I declare!" he exclaimed. "I gave ye credit fer some brains, but I guess I was mistaken."
"Don't blame your son, Captain," the girl interposed. "It was not his fault that he is here, but mine. I asked him to come."
"Ye did! Why, I thought ye didn't want anybody 'cept me to know of yer whereabouts."
"But it's different with your son here. He had to find out, anyway, you see, so it was just as well for him to do so this morning."
"So ye waited until I got on shore, eh? H'm, I guess all gals are alike, as sly as a weasel. As soon as the old man was out of the way, you two became very chummy. Fergot everything else most likely. It's a wonder ye weren't paradin' up an' down the deck."
"Oh, we took good care to keep out of sight," the girl laughingly replied. "We had enough sense left for that. This is certainly a great hiding place."
"D'ye think so, Miss? But mebbe it isn't so good as ye imagine."
A startled expression came into the girl's eyes, as she turned them full upon the captain's face.
"Thar, thar, don't be alarmed," the latter comforted. "I didn't mean to frighten ye. I only wanted to warn ye, that's all."
"Did you hear anything about me while ashore?" the girl asked. "Has anyone any suspicion that I am here?"
"It seems that way."
"Oh!"
"Yes," the captain continued, "I was talkin' to a young feller on shore, an' he sent ye his kind regards."
"Not Mr. Donaster! Oh, say it wasn't that man."
"No, it wasn't that critter, but another, an' a fine chap, too. Mebbe ye kin guess his name. He seemed mighty interested, an' asked me a number of questions."
"Did he?" The sigh of relief which the girl gave was more expressive than words. The captain chuckled as he watched her, and his eyes twinkled.
"Yes, Miss, he came along in a car an' tried to pump me dry with his queer questions. An' he was a mighty nice feller, too, good-natured, an' handsome enough fer any gal, no matter how pertic'ler she might be. He told me to take good care of ye. Hello! what's the matter?"
The cause of the captain's exclamation was the expression of confusion which suddenly overspread the girl's face. Eben also noticed it, and for the first time in his life a strange feeling began to agitate his heart. He could not account for it, but intuitively he felt a spirit of resentment against the man with the car. This beautiful girl had come into his lonely, misunderstood life like the sweet invigorating breath of spring, and he could not bear the thought that anyone else should have the slightest claim upon her. It was the jealous unreasoning throb of a first great love. The cabin seemed to be unusually close. He must have fresh air, and he wanted to be by himself that he might think. With a bound he was up the stairs to the deck above.
"Well, I declare!" the captain ejaculated, as he stared after his son. "What's the matter with that boy, anyway? Ye'd think a hull pack of wolves was chasin' him by the way he left this cabin. I can't understand him nohow."
The captain had barely finished speaking when a gust of wind struck the boat, causing the cabin door to close with a bang.
"Guess the breeze has come at last," he remarked. "It should be a big blow after this long calm. You jist keep close here while I go on deck. By the look of things we should be out of this in a few minutes. How'll that suit ye?"
"Oh, I shall be so thankful," the girl declared. "I cannot feel safe while we are so near that search-party. Please get away as soon as you can."
CHAPTER VII
GIVING MARTHA THE GO-BY
The wind which had come up with the tide was steadily increasing in strength, causing the "Eb and Flo" to scud rapidly forward with every inch of her one big sail stretched to its full capacity. There had been considerable work before the boat was well under way, and as the captain now stood at the wheel he was breathing heavily from his strenuous exertions. But the light of satisfaction glowed in his eyes as he looked straight ahead, and gave a few final orders to his son.
Jess Randall stood by his side, her face aglow with animation, and her heart lighter than at any time since she had first come on board. It was a great relief to be out of the cabin and once more in the open with the fresh breeze whipping about her, and tossing her hair over cheeks and brow. The searching party was left behind, and the small boats seemed like mere vanishing specks in the distance. She had no fear now, for she believed that the "Eb and Flo" would carry her safely away from her pursuers, whither she did not know. The strain through which she had recently passed, and the want of sleep the night before were telling upon her now, causing her to feel very tired. She leaned against the cabin for support, and this the captain at once noted.
"Here, take this wheel fer a minute," he ordered. "I want to go below. Jist keep her at that," he continued, when the girl with uncertain hands laid hold of the wheel. "Ye kin do it all right."
For the first time in her life, Jess was in command of a vessel, and a delightful thrill swept through, her as she watched, the full-swelled sail, and listened to the ripple of the boat as it cut through the water. What an easy thing it was to control such a craft, and cause it to do one's slightest bidding. And what a sense of freedom possessed her. It was a life for which she had so often longed, and she thought with amusement of her various social activities in the city. She had always been fond of life in the open, and she was never happier than when wandering through the fields or along some secluded woodland way. But such opportunities had been rare, for the barriers which surrounded her had been too firm and high.
In another minute the captain came from the cabin, carrying a three-legged stool, which he placed upon the deck.
"Thar, Miss," he said, "I think that'll be more comfortable than standin'. Ye kin lean aginst the cabin, providin' ye don't go to sleep an' push it over."
The girl smiled as she resigned the wheel and sat down upon the stool. It was certainly a relief to sit there leaning against the cabin for she felt unusually tired.
"You are very good to me, Captain," she remarked, turning her face to his. "I do not know how I can ever thank you."
"Don't try, Miss. I don't like to be thanked, anyway. It takes all the pleasure out of doin' anything, accordin' to my way of thinkin'."
The girl made no immediate reply, but sat looking out upon the river and away to the road winding along the shore. She could see an occasional auto speeding on its way, and she wondered what had become of the one which had been at the store when the captain was there. She was quite certain who the young driver was, and her heart beat somewhat faster when she thought of him. She longed to know how he had surmised where she was, and what he had said to the captain. She did not like to ask any questions lest she should betray her feelings, so she preferred to remain silent. She was aroused from her reverie by the captain shouting to his son.
"Hi, thar, Eben," he called, "hustle up an' split some wood. It's dinner time, an' thar isn't a stick cut. Guess ye must have burned it all up this mornin', Miss," he added, turning to his fair companion. "Anyway, that boy never keeps enough on hand. I wish to goodness he'd take some interest in things instead of mopin' around all the time."
"Perhaps he does take an interest in things he likes," the girl suggested.
"Then I'd like to find out what they are, Miss. I know he's mighty fond of eatin' an' sleeping but I guess that's about as fer as it goes."
"I made a discovery this morning, Captain," was the quiet reply.
"Ye did! In what way?"
"I discovered that your son has a great fondness for drawing."
"Humph!" the captain grunted, as he gave the wheel a quick, savage turn to the right. "Say, I nearly ran through that salmon net. It's too fer out, blamed if it isn't. Yes, I know Eben's fond of drawin', an' that's the trouble. He'd fiddle around all day with a paper an' pencil if I'd let him, an' not do a hand's turn."
"But suppose he should make a success of his drawing, though?"
"In what way? Wouldn't it be better fer him to learn boatin' so he kin take charge of this craft some day?"
"He never will do that, Captain. His mind is set upon being an engineer, and you should encourage him all you can."
"An engineer!" The captain stared at the girl in amazement.
"Yes, an engineer. He has a great liking for that, and the drawings he has made are remarkably good, considering that he has had no one to teach him."
"Ye don't tell! But what has drawin's to do with engineering I'd like to know. Ye don't have to make drawin's to run an engine, do ye ?"
"To be a civil engineer you do, and that is what your son wants to be. His mind is set upon bridge building, and you should see the drawings he has made of the bridge across the falls. I suppose you have never seen them?"
"No. Eben never showed 'em to me. Guess he was too scart."
"That's just the trouble, Captain. You have misunderstood the boy, and he has been doing this work on the sly. He showed them to me, though, and I have promised to give him some lessons."
"Ye have!"
"Yes, providing you will let me. And you will, won't you? It would be a great pity not to help and encourage him. If you do, you may be proud of him some day."
The captain gripped the wheel with firm hands, and looked straight before him. His face was a study, and the girl watched him somewhat curiously. She knew how his heart was set upon fitting Eben to take his place, and to relinquish that hope would be a great hardship.
"Guess I'll have to talk this over with Martha," he at length announced. "She an' Flo are so dead set upon Eben bein' a captain that I don't believe they'll listen to me fer a minute."
"But suppose Eben should take matters into his own hands?" Jess queried. "You may think you can control him, but you cannot tell how soon he may slip from your grasp. Would it not be better to hold his affections by helping him in every way you can? I wish I could see your wife and daughter. I feel quite sure that I could make them see the matter in a different light. Perhaps I could change their minds."
"Mebbe ye could, Miss," and the captain gave a deep sigh. "But I can't hold out much hope. If ye knew 'em as well as I do, ye wouldn't feel very sure, let me tell ye that. An' besides, Miss, I don't think ye'll ever see 'em, anyway, not on this craft."
"I won't!" The expression in the girl's eyes showed her surprise. "Why, I thought we would be at your home to-day, and that I would surely meet them."
"Yes, we'll be at me home, all right," and the captain's face grew serious. "We'll see it, but we won't stop. Oh, no, it would be all up with me if Martha an' Flo should catch you here. We'll jist give 'em the go-by to-day, an' it'll be the fust time I've ever done sich a thing. I've been allus mighty glad to git home, even fer a few minutes."
"Captain, are you really afraid of your wife and daughter?" the girl asked. "Wouldn't it be very easy to explain how I came on this boat, and that it wasn't your fault at all?"
"I wouldn't git a chance to explain, Miss. Ye see, Martha an' Flo are fine women when it comes to cookin', lookin' after the house, an' sich things. But when it comes to the question of other women, an' 'specially one who has run away from home, an' can't give a reasonable account of herself, well, that's different."
"Oh, I see!" The girl caught her breath, and her face flushed. "They might think I'm not exactly straight; is that it?"
"Mebbe they might, an' that would make it hard fer me an' Eben."
"But won't they listen to reason, Captain? Surely they will believe you and your son."
"They might, Miss, but I don't like to face 'em. I'm no coward when it comes to runnin' this craft in a nasty gale, or doin' something extry risky; but I do wilt right down before Martha an' Flo when their ginger's up. Why, a man hasn't a ghost of a chance with them women. They're a wonder, an' no mistake."
"Then what do you intend to do?"
"Do! Why, thar's only one thing to do in sich a case, an' that is to give 'em the go-by, an' then git clear of you. As soon as we reach the quarry you'll have to light out. I hate to say it, Miss, but thar's too much at stake fer me to keep ye on board any longer. I should have sent ye away before this, but ye wouldn't go, so what was I to do?"
"I am really sorry that I have given you so much trouble," the girl apologised. "I am very grateful for what you have already done, and as soon as I reach the quarry I shall leave you at once. I know I have placed you in a most embarrassing position."
"An' what do ye intend to do after ye leave this boat?" the captain somewhat anxiously enquired.
"I have not the slightest idea. But I am not going to worry about that now. I shall be free, and that will be worth a great deal to me."
When dinner was at last over, they were again upon deck. Jess had prepared a tempting meal, and while she and the captain dined, Eben took his turn at the wheel. The boy had hardly spoken a word after his father's return from the store, but a new light shone in his eyes, and his step was more buoyant than before. The furtive look that he at times cast upon the fair passenger was one of profound admiration. To him she was the most beautiful and wonderful person he had ever met, and her words of encouragement and appreciation had fallen upon his lonely soul like a refreshing rain upon a thirsty land.
The wind was stronger now, and running through the wide stretch of water, known as the "Long Reach," the boat encountered heavy swells, through which she surged, dashing the spray from her bow at each plunge. The captain was unusually silent, and Jess noticed that he was becoming somewhat nervous. This became more apparent the farther up the river they moved, and it was not until they had passed one of the three islands, which here studded the river, did she comprehend the meaning of the captain's uneasiness. With hands firmly grasping the wheel, he often cast his eyes shoreward, as if searching for some special object. Presently he emitted an exclamation of annoyance, and turned suddenly to the girl by his side.
"Git into the cabin," he ordered. "Martha's got the glass on us. I kin see her at the front door. Hustle. I don't want her to see ye. But ye needn't go all the way down, Miss. Jist set within the door, so she can't see ye."
Jess quickly obeyed, and perched upon the second step from the top, she waited to see what would happen.
"Does your wife always use the glass?" she at length asked.
"Allus, Miss. Guess she's had it turned on us ever since we hove in sight. Hope to goodness she hasn't spied you out."
The house toward which the captain's attention was directed, stood upon a gentle elevation, with a well-kept garden, sloping to the river. It was a cosy-looking place, and the surrounding trees protected the house from the storms of winter. The building was painted white, with dark trimmings, and owing to its situation, could be seen for miles from the river. The captain was naturally proud of his home, and was always glad when it appeared in sight. But this day was the first exception during his long years of boating. His face became stern, and his hands gripped the wheel harder than ever as he set his mind upon the task of running by that snug cottage on the hill side. Why had he been such a fool, he asked himself, as to let this strange runaway girl remain on board? He should have notified the search party at once as to her whereabouts, and delivered her into their hands. His heart, however, softened as he glanced down and saw the girl's wistful eyes fixed full upon his face.
"I am very sorry, Captain, that I am causing you so much worry," she remarked. "But for me you would soon be home with your wife and daughter."
"Tut, tut, Miss, don't ye bother about that," the old man replied, as he gave the wheel a vigorous yank to the right. "This boat was headin' straight fer the shore. She's run in thar so often that she does it of her own accord. She's almost human, this boat is. My! won't Martha git the surprise of her life when she sees us go by. She's wavin' now, blamed if she ain't! an' runnin' down to the shore. An' that's Flo behind her! Mebbe Flo'll try to swim out to us, fer she's great in the water, almost like a fish."
The "Eb and Flo" was now almost abreast of the captain's home, and scudding so fast that in a few minutes she would be by. It was possible for Jess to see the two women standing upon the shore, frantically waving their arms and shouting across the water. What they said she could not distinguish, though she guessed the purport of the words they were uttering. She pitied the captain, for she was well aware that when he did go home his reception would be far from pleasant. She kept her eyes riveted upon the women until they became mere specks in the distance. Then she turned to the captain. He was mopping his face with a big red handkerchief, and his hands were trembling.
"Dam it!" he growled. "I'm all het up. It must be ninety in the shade. Git me a drink of water, will ye?"
CHAPTER VIII
WHAT THE COW DID
"If she won't take ye in, yer welcome to stay here all night."
The "Eb and Flo" was lying securely fastened to the wharf at the Spoon Island stone quarry. She had made a good run up the river, and had reached her destination late in the afternoon. Captain Tobin was standing upon deck looking upon Jess and Eben as they started up the track toward the quarry.
"Eben'll show ye Mrs. Ricksteen's house," he told the girl. "I guess she needs extry help with the crowd of men she allus has. But she might want a recommendation, fer she's mighty pertic'ler, Mrs. Ricksteen is. Anyway, if she won't take ye in, yer welcome to come back here."
Jess thanked the captain, and told him that she was sure she could make out all right. She would return in the morning to tell him of her success, and get her belongings.
"See that Eben behaves himself," the captain reminded. "An' don't let him stay too long. Thar's a lot of work to do on board to-night."
"You needn't worry," was the girl's smiling reply. "Eben can return just as soon as he shows me the way. I won't run off with him."
The captain stood and watched them as they walked slowly up the track. "My, my, she's a fine gal, an' no mistake," he mused. "I never saw Eben so taken up with anyone as he is with her. Why, his face brightens the instant she speaks to him. Seems to me he's head over heels in love with her. It's only nat'ral, I s'pose. If I was young meself I'd lose me head an' heart over a gal like that. It'd be great to have her fer a daughter-in-law. Wonder what Martha an' Flo 'd say."
While the captain was thus musing, the young couple made their way slowly along the track which led across a wide stretch of interval. Eben was somewhat embarrassed at first when he found himself alone with the beautiful girl, so his words were few. But as they advanced, he felt more at ease, and readily answered all of her questions. He explained how the truck, carrying the granite blocks, was impelled across the interval to the river by the impetus given on the steep hill ahead. Two men were always in charge, who handled the brakes, and stopped the truck just at the right place on the wharf.
"But isn't it very dangerous coming down that steep hill?" Jess asked, as she looked up the track which ran through a forest of small trees.
"Y' bet," was the emphatic reply. "I came down once, an' me hair was standin' straight on end, an' I didn't have any breath left when we got to the bottom. It was great!"
"It certainly must have been," the girl enthusiastically declared. "I would like to try it myself."
"Ye would!" Eben stopped and stared at his companion in amazement.
"Yes, and why not? I like a little excitement once in a while."
"I guess ye must, Miss."
"Don't call me 'Miss,' say 'Jess,' I like it better. We are chums, you know, and chums must not put on any airs."
Eben's face coloured, and his heart beat fast. It was great to have her talk in such a friendly way. He believed that she liked him, too, and that meant a great deal to him. The world seemed a much brighter place since this runaway girl entered his life.
They had crossed the interval and were almost at the base of the hill, when a rumbling sound fell upon their ears.
"It's the truck comin'," Eben explained, at the same time laying his hand upon the girl's arm and drawing her off the track. "Now ye'll see something worth while."
And truly indeed they were both destined to behold something of a most unexpected and terrible nature during the next few minutes. They saw the truck far up the hill, and almost held their breath as it took the wild plunge in its mad career to the valley below. Just at this exciting instant, however, the bushes close to the line were suddenly parted, and a large cow appeared. She stepped upon the track, stopped, and looked up. Before a word could be said or a hand lifted, the truck swept upon her like a catapult. A sickening crash ensued, and men, cow, truck and granite blocks were hurled from the track, and tossed in a confused heap among the bushes several rods away.
When the crash took place, Jess gave a cry of dismay and buried her face in her hands to shut out the terrible sight. This was but for an instant, however, for she realised, that something must be done to help the unfortunate men should they be alive. Eben was staring as if rooted to the spot, his body trembling with excitement.
"Isn't it awful!" he groaned. "Oh, what kin we do?"
"Let us go and see," was the reply. "Come on."
Together they made their way up the track as fast as possible, and as they approached the spot where the accident had taken place, an indescribable feeling came over the girl. Suppose the men were dead! And if not dead, they surely must be fearfully mangled. How could she endure the sight? But struggle on she did, and at length saw one of the men limping painfully toward her. His clothes were torn, and his face and hands were bleeding. He staggered as he walked, and when he reached the track he sank down upon the ground.
"Are you much hurt?" Jess asked, hurrying to his side. Her fears had all vanished, and she thought not of herself, but only of the injured man.
"Never mind me," the man replied. "I'll be all right shortly. But for God's sake do something for Bill. He's over there among the stones all smashed up. I was pitched clear."
With a bound Eben left the track, and leaped among the bushes down where Bill was lying, half buried beneath a tangle of stones, trees and truck. The man was very still, and to all appearance dead. But, as Eben began to free his body, he opened his eyes and moaned. Fortunately none of the monster stones rested upon him, but only a small bent tree held his legs as in a vice. With considerable difficulty Eben was able to free the man, and then lifting him in his arms staggered out of the ruins, and laid his burden gently upon the ground a short distance away. In another minute Jess was kneeling by the injured man's side, wiping the blood which flowed down his face with her small white handkerchief.
"We must have help at once," she exclaimed, turning to Eben. "Is there a doctor anywhere near? Go for him, quick."
Scarcely had she ceased speaking ere the sound of hurrying footsteps fell upon their ears. In another minute several excited men were by their side, examining the wounded man and asking numerous questions. Jess rose to her feet and stepped back. As she did so someone touched her lightly on the arm, and whispered her name. Turning swiftly around, she came face to face with the driver of the car who had interviewed Captain Tobin outside the store that very morning.
"John!" It was all that she said, but the flush upon her face, and the light of joy which leaped into her eyes were more expressive than many words.
"How did you get here so soon?" the young man asked. "This is no place for you, Jess. Let me take you back to the boat."
"No, no," was the low reply. "We must look after this poor man first.
Oh, do what you can for him at once."
For a few seconds the young man looked into the eyes of the girl before him. The great longing of his heart was expressed in that look, and the girl understood. She turned toward the injured man, and absently watched his companions doing what they could for his welfare. Into her heart stole a peace such as she had not known for days. The one she loved was with her, and she knew that he loved her with all the strength of his true manly nature. Forgotten for a time were Donaster and her other persecutors. In this rough wilderness spot she felt secure from their grasp, and with John Hampton near she was ready and willing to defy the whole world.
The brief scene enacted between the young lovers was not noticed by the men earnestly discussing what should be done with their battered comrade. The accident alone so arrested and held their attention that the thought of love-making at such a critical situation never once occurred to them.
With Eben, however, it was different. He saw and understood far too much for his peace of mind. In an instant he grasped the meaning of the whispered words and the expression upon the faces of the lovers. A feeling such as he had never before known leaped into his heart. He forgot all about the injured man, and paid no attention to what was being done with him. He could think only of himself, and how another had come between him and the girl he loved. He knew John Hampton well, and it came as a great surprise that he should be on such friendly terms with Jess Randall.
In a few minutes the helpless man was lifted carefully from the ground, and borne gently away on a rude stretcher which had been speedily improvised by his comrades. Jess and John followed, talking with each other, though so low that Eben could not understand what they were saying. As they moved forward, he skulked a short distance behind. The girl paid no attention to him now. In fact, she did not seem to be even aware of his presence. She was taken up entirely with the young man by her side, so the idea that she meant anything to the awkward youth to the rear never once crossed her mind.
In about fifteen minutes the injured man's house was reached, and all entered except Eben. It was merely a shack, almost surrounded by trees, and situated a short distance from the main highway. Here Bill Dobbins and his wife lived during the summer months while work was being carried on in the granite quarry. Their real home was elsewhere, so this rude structure was all that they required during their temporary stay at the quarry.
Eben waited for a few minutes outside, uncertain what to do. At length he turned and made his way slowly back to the road, and down the track to the river. He said nothing to his father about the accident, and turned into his bunk at an unusually early hour. When the captain asked him about the girl, and if Mrs. Ricksteen had taken her in, Eben was curt in his reply, saying that he did not know. Not until the next morning did Captain Tobin hear about the accident, for he had been in the cabin when it had occurred. He then questioned his son as to the details, but received no satisfactory information. Later he learned of the whole affair from two men from the quarry, when they ran their first morning load of granite down to the river. The injured man was still unconscious, so they told him. The doctor had arrived during the night, and did what he could for his welfare. The men were loud in their praises of the young woman who had sat up all night with Mrs. Dobbins, and had made herself so agreeable and helpful.
"I guess she's there to stay," one of them remarked. "Wonder where in the world she dropped from. Ye don't see the likes of her every day, 'specially in a place like this."
"She and young Hampton seem to be very thick," the other volunteered.
"They must have known each other before by the look of things."
"Hampton, did ye say?" the captain asked. "D'ye mean Widder Hampton's son, of Beech Cove?"
"I don't know whose son he is," was the reply. "He arrived at the quarry yesterday afternoon, and has been hanging around ever since. Mebbe he planned to meet the girl here."
The captain made no reply but went on with his work. He thought, however, of the interview he had with Hampton down the river the day before, and he smiled to himself, He understood now why the young fellow was so interested in the fair passenger on board the "Eb and Flo," and for his sake, no doubt, the girl had run away from home.
Eben worked so hard all the morning that his father was greatly surprised. He had heard what the men said about Hampton and the girl, and it was necessary for him to do something to give vent to his intensely wrought-up feelings. He worked with a feverish energy, and seemed to possess the strength of two men as he helped at the derrick as the big blocks of granite were swung on board. He hardly touched his noon-day meal, and this caused his father considerable anxiety, for the boy had been always blessed with an excellent appetite.
All through the afternoon the work of loading the boat was continued, and such excellent progress was made that the captain was looking forward to sailing early the next morning. To all outward appearance Eben's mind was entirely upon the big stones which were being hoisted on board. But anyone watching closely might have noticed that occasionally he gave a keen, furtive glance up toward the quarry.
The day was fast wearing to its close, and the last block of stone was about to be moved, when Eben gave one of his quick looks up the hill. As he did so he suddenly straightened himself up and stared as if he had seen a ghost. His face became suddenly pale, and his hands trembled as he watched two people walking slowly down the track. He recognised them at once, and it was their appearance he had been expecting all the afternoon. He knew that they were coming to the boat, and he did not wish to meet the girl when Hampton was present. He felt that he could not trust himself, so great was his agitation.
Without a word to anyone Eben left the wharf, walked a few yards along the river, and disappeared among some bushes. He soon stopped when he was sure that he could not be seen, crouched low upon the ground, and watched all that was taking place near the "Eb and Flo." He could see John and the girl talking with the captain for a few minutes, after which the three went on board and entered the cabin. When they reappeared about fifteen minutes later, Hampton was carrying a small parcel in his hand, which Eben surmised contained the articles his father had purchased for Jess at the store. When once again upon the wharf, they stood and talked for a few minutes. What they said Eben could not make out, but presently he heard his father calling his name. This caused him to crouch lower upon the ground, fearful lest he should be observed. One of the quarrymen then spoke and motioned his hand in the direction the boy had gone. Eben heard the amused laughter which followed, and he fully comprehended its meaning. They were laughing at him for running away! It was almost more than he could endure, and his first impulse was to rush from his hiding place, challenge John Hampton for a fight, and show Jess that he was no coward. But a natural diffidence restrained him, which caused him to remain silent and unseen. It was only when he was certain that the visitors were well out of sight, did he venture back to the wharf. His father looked at him somewhat curiously, but was wise enough to ask no questions.
When darkness had settled over the land, Eben left the boat and made his way slowly up the track. Reaching the main highway, he moved forward with a long jerky stride until he came to the little clearing where the Dobbins' shack was situated. He stopped and peered cautiously around. A light shone from the one window facing the road, and toward this Eben stealthily moved. There was no blind to the window, so when near enough he could easily see all that was taking place within. The sight that met his first glance stirred him to a high pitch of angry jealousy. He saw the two sitting close to each other but a short distance from the injured man, who was lying upon a cot. John was talking to Jess in a most earnest manner, and the look upon the girl's face was one of intense happiness. She was evidently pleased at what her lover was saying, for occasionally her lips parted in a smile.
All this Eben saw in the few minutes that he stood there. His hands were clenched hard, and his eyes were filled with the fire of hatred. There was the man who had come between him and the girl he loved. He was but a short distance away, so acting upon the wild impulse of the instant he stooped down, and finding a stone lying right at his feet, he took careful aim, and hurled it with his full force through the window, straight at the head of his enemy. The sudden crash was followed instantly by a cry of pain, and then all was still. With fast-beating heart Eben looked, expecting to see Hampton stretched upon the floor. Great was his horror to behold the girl lying there instead, her deathly-white face stained with blood. With a startled cry as of a wild beast in agony, he turned and fled along the road, down the track, and back to the refuge of the "Eb and Flo."
CHAPTER IX
MARTHA TAKES A HAND
Throughout the entire night the horror of a great dread drove all sleep from Eben's eyes. As he lay in his bunk every sound seemed to be magnified, and he imagined that men would come for him and lead him away to trial. He felt quite sure that he had killed Jess and that he would be hung for murder. The girl's white face with the bloodstain upon it was ever before him, and he could not shut it from his mind. And he had murdered her, the one who had meant so much to him. The thought of John Hampton filled his soul with bitterness. He was the cause of all his misery, so he reasoned. Why had not the stone hit him instead of the girl?
Some time before daylight he went out on deck. The cabin was stifling, and he felt that he would smother if he stayed there any longer. He sauntered up forward, and looked out over the water. It was a beautiful night, with a gentle wind drifting in from the west. The accustomed sounds of darkness fell upon his ears, but he paid no attention to them now. His mind was not in tune with nature's sweet harmonies, so she brought no restful peace to his tumultuous brain. He longed to know what was taking place in the little shack in the forest. Was the girl lying there still in death? Would people know who did the deed? How would they find out? He had read about detectives searching for criminals, and following most unexpected clues. Had he left any trace behind? he wondered. No twinge of conscience troubled his soul. It was only regret that the stone had hit the wrong person. He was sorry for the girl, and for himself. His nature was as clay, full of many possibilities, and capable of being moulded by right methods into a choice vessel. But hitherto no one had understood his peculiar nature. Then when love for a noble woman did at length enter his soul, its influence was quenched by the spirit of hatred and revenge.
Great excitement reigned at the quarry when the men learned of the accident which had befallen Miss Randall. Feeling ran high and had they known the one who committed the deed, it would have gone hard with him. Captain Tobin heard the story when he visited the quarry during the morning. He had been more surprised than ever at Eben's silent and strange manner, especially when he had found him at daybreak at the bow of the boat. He could get nothing from the boy, and in disgust he had left him and ate his breakfast alone. He believed that his son was deeply in love with Jess Randall, and that the presence of John Hampton was the cause of his depression. He imagined that it was but a temporary affection, and nothing would come of it, until he heard of what had happened to the girl. Then a great fear forced itself upon his mind. He banished it at first as improbable. But the more he thought of it, and the more he considered Eben's strange manner, the more he was led to the painful conclusion that his son was the one who had thrown the stone through the window. He was well aware of Eben's impulsive nature, and the extent to which he would go when roused to anger. He overheard two men talking about the affair.
"I'd like to lay my hands on the skunk who threw that stone," declared one, "I'd show him a thing or two. The idea of hitting such a girl as that, an' her watching by Bill."
"Is she badly hurt, d'ye think?" the other asked. "Can't say. Mrs. Dobbins said she was able to sit up in the car when young Hampton took her away."
"Where did he take her to?"
"To the hospital, I guess. But maybe he took her to his own home. His mother lives down the river somewhere, so I understand."
The captain breathed more freely when he learned that the girl was able to travel in the car. At first he feared that she had been so badly injured that she might die. Then the guilty one would surely be found, and if it proved to be his own son how terrible it would be. Even now should suspicion rest upon Eben the quarrymen might prove very troublesome. He, therefore, decided to get away as soon as possible. He did not wish to shield his son if he were in the wrong. But he wanted him to receive a fair trial, if the matter went that far, and not have him dealt with by a number of excited men who might let their passions get the upper hand.
Shortly after noon the "Eb and Flo" slipped from her wharf, and headed downstream. The tide was fair, and the light breeze was favourable for a long tack out of the narrow channel into the main river below Spoon Island. The captain was at the wheel, with Eben by his side, ready for any orders which might be given. Very few words had passed between father and son during the day, and to all outward appearance they seemed like complete strangers. But the captain's mind had been busy upon more than his boat. He felt it was his duty to speak to Eben and find out if he did really throw the stone which hit the girl. Several times he was on the point of mentioning the subject, but always hesitated. It was a delicate matter, he well knew, and for the first time in his life he was at a loss for words. At length, however, he brought his courage to what he thought was the sticking point.
"Say, Eben," he began. Then he paused, and looked helplessly around.
"What is it, dad?"
"D'ye think it's goin' to blow hard to-day?"
"Mebbe it will, an' mebbe it won't."
The captain gave the wheel a slight turn, and ran a little closer to the island.
"Eben."
The boy looked curiously at his father.
"D'ye s'pose yer mother'll be waitin' fer us?"
"Most likely."
The captain shifted uneasily, and clutched the wheel with a firmer grip.
"Say, Eben, it was too bad that gal got hurt last night, wasn't it?"
The boy started, and gave his father a quick look. Then his eyes dropped.
"What girl, dad? Ye never told me about it."
"But don't ye know, Eben?"
"Know what?"
"Quit yer nonsense. Didn't ye hear about that gal who came up river with us gittin' hurt?"
"Naw, never heard a word."
"Ye didn't!" The captain stared at his son. Surely, he thought, the boy is not adding a lie to his misdeed.
"I ain't seen anybody this mornin' but you, dad," Eben explained. "How could I hear anything?"
"Sure, sure, I guess yer right. But I did think mebbe ye'd thrown that stone. I'm mighty glad to learn that ye know nuthin' about it."
"I didn't say I know nuthin'. Ye didn't ask me that."
"Didn't I? Why, I thought I spoke plain enough."
"Oh, shucks! Ye jist asked me if I had heard about it, which I didn't.
Nobody told me, but I know jist the same. I threw that stone."
There was an expression of defiance upon the boy's face, and his eyes were blazing. He partly expected his father to swing upon him with strong words of reproof. In this, however, he was mistaken. The captain remained very quiet for a few minutes, which seemed, to Eben much longer. At last he turned and looked at his son. His rough, knotted hands trembled on the wheel, and his eyes were misty. Eben never saw him look at him in such a way before. Had he stormed and raged it would have but increased his defiance. But that look of silent reproach smote his very soul, causing him to cower conscience stricken. Without a word, he left his father's side and went forward. And there he stood with his hands behind his back, staring straight before him. The captain watched him anxiously. His mind was greatly confused over the confession he had just heard. What would Martha and Flo say when they heard of it? The family would be disgraced, for the neighbours up and down the river would learn the truth sooner or later. What should he do? Would it be right to shield his son? The perspiration stood out in beads upon his forehead, and a groan escaped his lips. Then almost unconsciously he began to sing his old favourite verse:
"Here I'll raise my Ebenezer,
Hither by Thy grace I'll come,
And I trust in Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home."
"Seems to me," he mused, "that I've been tryin' to raise Eben without considerin' enough the great Stone of help. I've heard the parson say that's the meanin' of Ebenezer, and that the stone refers to the Lord. Yes, I guess I need His help more'n ever jist now."
The "Eb and Flow" made slow progress down river, for the wind was light, and it was necessary to beat most of the way. It was, accordingly, evening when at last she ran slowly into Beech Cove and dropped anchor. The captain's mind was worried about the reception he would receive, for he knew how angry his wife would be over his strange action on the up trip. He was at a loss to explain, for he could not bring himself to the extremity of telling a falsehood. He was thinking seriously of this when his wife appeared on the shore. She immediately launched a small row-boat and headed for the "Eb and Flo." The captain received her as graciously as possible, although he knew at the first glance that his entire stock of affableness could not dispel the threatening clouds.
"Well, Sam'l," Mrs. Tobin began, the instant she stepped upon the deck, "what have you got to say for yourself?"
"Nuthin', Martha, nuthin', 'cept I'm mighty glad to see ye."
"H'm, don't ye lie to me, Sam'l. Ye must be mighty glad to see me.
Why did ye go by on your up trip without stopping?"
"I was in a great hurry, Martha, an' had to git the wind when it served. We was hung up a long time down river."
"But ye never did such a thing before. Was there any special reason why ye didn't call just for a few minutes?"
Mrs. Tobin was a buxom, matronly-looking woman, with a usually bright, pleasant face. But now it was stern, and her dark eyes were filled with anger as she noted her husband's silence and confusion. Presently she turned to her son who was standing near.