"How much do you think I ought to pay you?" he asked.
"I don't know," said Alec. "I didn't make any bargain with you. I don't know what I ought to get."
"I'm going to give you ten dollars," said the captain. "You worked only four days. Next week, if you put in a full week, I'll give you more. The deck-hands on this boat get $17.50 a week, but I gave them $20 this week because they did a mighty good week's work. You'll get just as much as you make yourself worth. Captain Rumford pays his men well. If you keep on as good as you've begun, you'll soon be getting as much as any of the other hands."
"Thank you," Alec replied. "I'll try. Oh! I'll do my best, for I need the money so badly. It's going to take me a good many weeks to earn all I need." And he went over to the stove and sat down on a chair, bowing his head in his hands.
"I wish that Hawley would come get this," muttered Captain Bagley to himself, as he counted out the money that was due the discharged sailor and laid it in his own bunk.
His own money he made into a little roll, including with the greenbacks a check that had come to him by mail. Then he put a little rubber band around the roll. After a second's hesitation he wrapped Hawley's money about his own, added another rubber band, and dropping the roll in his bunk, started to change from his working garb to his street clothes.
"The deuce!" he said suddenly. "I forgot to ask Captain Rumford about them dredges. I hope he ain't started for home yet."
Captain Bagley darted out of the cabin like a streak of lightning, and ran across the pier to the office. Zipp was there and he told Captain Bagley that Captain Rumford had just left. Captain Bagley could catch him before he got to his automobile. The lithe skipper flew down the stairs and raced up the shipping platform. He overtook the shipper, and a long conversation followed. On his way back to his boat, Captain Bagley was called into a ship-chandler's, and a full half hour elapsed before he got back. To his surprise there was not a soul aboard. Alec had disappeared. The money the captain had left in his bunk was also gone.
CHAPTER IX UNDER A CLOUD
For a moment the captain stared blankly into his bunk. Then, "The little rip!" he cried. "I never would have believed it of him. Seemed such a nice, clean kid, too."
Energetic in all things, the captain began to fire up. His anger mounted. If he could have laid his hands on Alec just then, he probably would first have trounced him roundly and explained afterward. But not having Alec to chastise, he began to swear at him. Presently the captain cooled off, as he always did, and his better nature came to the top.
"Poor kid," he muttered. "He was just worried sick about his dad's tombstone. He wouldn't do such a thing under ordinary circumstances. Don't be too hard on him, Bagley. And remember, he's your old pal's nephew."
Before long the captain decided he would say nothing about the matter and pocket his loss. Then that same sense of loyalty to his friends made him decide that he ought to tell Captain Rumford. It would never do for the shipper to have a thief around without knowing it. Of course Alec wouldn't be around, Captain Bagley realized, for he would discharge him the instant he set eyes on him.
"I'll tell the captain right away," he said to himself. "He'll be home by this time."
Captain Bagley hurried to the office and let himself in with his key. He got the shipper on the telephone almost immediately. Despite his fiery nature, Captain Bagley possessed great discretion. "Cap'n Rumford," he said, "there's been some crooked work going on down here. I don't want to talk about it over the 'phone, but I'd like to tell you about it."
"I'll be right down," telephoned the shipper. "I'm almost through supper, and you can look for me as soon as I can get there."
Captain Bagley sat down to wait for the shipper. The latter lived in a village only a few miles distant, and his motor-car carried him back to the office in no time.
"What's wrong, Bagley?" he said anxiously, as he came into the office.
"Nothing to worry about, Cap'n, but something that'll disappoint you. I notice that you took a great fancy to the new hand."
"Yes. He's a fine lad. He's going to make a good man."
"Well, I am sorry to tell you he's skipped with my week's pay and the money that was due Hawley."
Captain Rumford's face turned black as a thunder-cloud. "Have you any notion where he skipped to? We must catch him, even if it costs more than he took. I try to treat my men right, but I'll be hanged if I'll let anybody rob me." The shipper was now as angry as his oyster captain had been a little while previously.
"I haven't any idea where he went."
"How did it happen? How did he get hold of your roll?"
"Why, him and me was the only two aboard the Bertha B, and I laid my money in my bunk while I was changing my clothes. Then I happened to think about them dredges, and I bolted out to ketch you, without a thought about the money being there. When I got back both the kid and the money was gone."
"Looks like a plain enough case," said the shipper. "Do you know of any reason why he should steal? He looked as honest as sunlight."
"Yes. There was a very particular reason. He's been worrying about money ever since he got here. Showed me a letter he got about his father's tombstone. Seems he paid a marble man to put a stone on his father's grave. Gave him every cent he had, but that was only half the price. The man agreed to put the stone up and wait for the balance of his money until the lad could earn it. But he played the kid dirt. Wrote him he wouldn't put no stone up until he had every cent. The kid seems to have thought everything of his dad, and it worried him sick. The last thing I heard him say was that it would take him an awful long time to get that money earned."
"It's a plain case, I guess. That explains why he didn't give me my quarter," and the shipper told Captain Bagley of his giving Alec a dollar to get a meal and of Alec's failure to return the change.
"What are you going to do about it, Cap'n?" inquired Skipper Bagley. "It ain't fair not to——"
At that instant a footstep was heard on the stairs. The door opened, and in walked Alec.
"So you thought better of it, did you?" said Captain Bagley.
Alec looked puzzled. "Thought better of what?" he asked.
"Now don't try any bluffs on us," said the shipper tartly. "Be honest and admit you stole the money and we may overlook it. We understand that you were in trouble and needed the money badly."
Alec was almost dumb with astonishment. "Admit that I stole the money!" he cried. "I don't understand what you are talking about. I never stole a cent from anybody."
"Come, come!" said Captain Rumford sharply. "Don't make the matter worse by lying about it."
Alec's eyes blazed. "See here," he said angrily. "I don't care if you are the biggest oyster shipper in Bivalve. You shall not call me a liar. I didn't take your money or anybody else's. You've got to take that back. I won't stand it. I'm not a thief and I'm not a liar."
Captain Rumford sat sharp up in his chair and fastened his keenest glance on Alec's face. His look seemed to bore right through the lad. But Alec never flinched. He looked straight into the captain's eyes until the shipper shifted his gaze to Bagley.
"Cap'n," said the oyster shipper, "if that lad's a liar, he's the nerviest one I ever met with. He's the first man that ever lied to me and looked me square in the eye afterward."
"See here," said Alec, trembling with anger. "I demand an explanation. I tell you I am neither a liar nor a thief; and you have no right to call me one."
"Well, that's a simple matter," said the shipper. "Captain Bagley left you alone in the cabin of his boat with his pay-roll, or what was left of it. When he came back, you had gone and the cash had disappeared. The captain says you had very great need of money and were worrying about how you could get it, when he left the boat. Have you any explanation to make?"
"I can explain everything," said Alec. "It's true I need money. Oh, sir, you don't know how badly I need it! My father did everything in the world for me, sir, and it will take me weeks and weeks to earn even a little tombstone to mark his grave with."
Alec paused to try to get command of his voice. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. "I loved my father with all my heart," he continued. "Do you think I would disgrace him by being dishonest? He always taught me to be honest and honorable above all things, sir. Do you think I would do the one thing that would hurt my father if he were alive?"
Once more Alec wiped his eyes as he paused. Then, choking back a sob, he continued: "I did not take the money, sir. I never knew until this minute that it was in the captain's bunk. I was so troubled I couldn't think of anything but how long it was going to take me to earn that gravestone. When Captain Bagley ran out, he startled me. I remembered I owed you a dollar, and I came straight here to pay you, sir. I meant to give you your change the other day, but you were in the office here when I got back from the hotel and I had to get right to work. Then I forgot it until after you went home. Here is the dollar now, sir, and I'm much obliged to you for the loan."
"Was anybody here when you came to pay me the dollar?" asked the shipper, again eyeing Alec sharply.
"Yes, sir. Zipp was here."
"Did you say anything to him?"
"Yes, sir. I asked for you, and he said you had just left and that Captain Bagley had run after you. I didn't want to interrupt any talk between you and Captain Bagley, so I did not try to overtake you, sir."
The oyster shipper turned in his seat and picked up his telephone. "345 R," he said to the operator.
A moment later he said, "That you, Zipp?" Then, after a pause, "Did the new deck-hand, Alec Cunningham, come to the office after I left?" Again there was a pause. "He did, eh? Did he say anything to you?"
Alec held his breath while Zipp answered. "Asked for me, did he?" repeated the captain. "And you told him I had gone and Captain Bagley had run after me."
The shipper hung up his receiver and turned to Alec. "Well, that story is straight enough. Where have you been the rest of the time? And what did you do?"
"I walked up the shipping platform and looked into several cars that were being loaded. Then I went to the post-office and asked if there was a letter for me and got a stamped envelope and a money-order for $8.75 to send to that tombstone man. Then I started back to the Bertha B. I saw the office door was still open, when I passed, and I came up to see if I could get an old envelope or a piece of paper to write on. Here's the envelope and the money-order, sir."
"Very good," said the shipper. "But still you have not offered any proof that you didn't take the money. If you didn't take it, who did? You were the only person in the boat after Captain Bagley came ashore. How can you get around that?"
"And you have no proof that I did," replied Alec, his indignation rising again. "You don't even try to be fair. The Bertha B was at her pier for more than half an hour without a soul on watch. A dozen men might have gone into her cabin in that time. You've got to prove that nobody was aboard of her before you've any right to accuse me of stealing the money."
"Don't tell me what I've a right to do," said the shipper, a little nettled. "Leave the room and don't say a word about this to anybody."
CHAPTER X ALEC'S DECISION
Bitter, indeed, were Alec's thoughts as he stumbled down the office stairs. Blinding tears stood in his eyes. His heart seemed dead within him. He felt sick all over—sick and indignant. Ever since he was a tiny child his father had taught him that his honor and his good name were to be treasured above all things. Never before had anybody even suspected him of dishonesty. Now he was worse than suspected. He was both accused and practically condemned. For it was perfectly evident to Alec that the oyster shipper still doubted him.
As Alec turned the situation over in his mind, his indignation grew fiercer and fiercer. He told himself that Captain Bagley had no right to leave the money in the ship's cabin, as he did; and Alec was right. He told himself that Captain Bagley should have told him to guard the money, when he rushed off after the shipper; and again Alec was right.
"I was free to come and go," said Alec to himself, "and Captain Bagley had no right to assume that I would stay on the Bertha B all the time, when there is so much that is interesting to see and learn. Why, anybody can walk into any of these boats at any time, and Captain Bagley knows that as well as I do. And if somebody dishonest came aboard and nobody was in the cabin and some money was lying loose, what could the captain expect? It wasn't fair for him to do what he did. It wasn't fair. He never said a word to me about his money and now he holds me responsible for its loss. It isn't fair! It isn't fair!"
In deep distress Alec walked up and down under the pier shed. He saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing, but his own distress.
"And I was trying so hard to be helpful and to show my appreciation of Captain Bagley's kindness," said Alec to himself. "Kindness! Bah! Let him keep his kindness for others. What I want is justice. I'll leave him and his old boat and go where people will treat me fair. That's all the kindness I want—just a square deal."
In his bitterness Alec was himself unjust. With the inexperience of youth, he reasoned that because he had been questioned as to his honesty he had necessarily been condemned. He failed to see that his employers owed it to him as well as to themselves and all the other oystermen to find out who was the thief. Necessarily they had to question Alec first, for circumstances certainly did point to him.
The more he brooded over the matter, the more indignant he felt. "I won't stay here another minute," he said. "I won't have anything to do with men who have so little fairness." And he headed for the Bertha B to get his valise and the few poor possessions in it. But half-way down the pier he stopped abruptly. A new idea popped into his head. "If you go aboard the Bertha B and take your things, and anything else should disappear, they'll say you stole the thing and ran away."
He pondered over the situation. "Run away!" he muttered. "That's just what you were about to do. An honest man doesn't run away when he's under fire. He stays and fights. Why, if I had run away, they'd never have doubted that I was the thief. Gee! I'm glad I thought in time." And Alec fairly shivered at the thought of what would have happened had he foolishly gone away.
"I'll fight," he muttered. "That's what I'll do. I'll show them I'm as honest and square and smart and able as any man that ever walked these planks. That's what I'll do. I'll be an oysterman, too. That's settled. I'll be a planter and shipper, too. I'll be just as big a man at Bivalve as Captain Rumford or anybody else. I'll show them what Alec Cunningham's got in him. I'll work and work and work and study and study and save my money, and some day I'll have the finest oyster-boat that sails out of this port. And I'll call her Old Honesty, too. And she won't be any old-fashioned sailing boat done over. She'll be an up-to-date oyster-boat, scientifically made. Captain Rumford will have to scrap his whole fleet when my new boat gets to work. He'll find it was a costly thing to call me a thief, that's what he will."
Now all faintness of heart had gone from Alec. The feeling of sickness had left him. He was all aglow with determination and purpose. He felt that the die was cast. He had made up his mind. He felt as strong as Atlas, as indomitable as Jupiter. In his vision he saw the delectable goal, but he could not see the hard and painful path that led up to it.
Nor was all this as foolish as it might seem to many an older head. Dreams are the thing that accomplishments are made of—dreams and work. Often the faith and enthusiasm of youth are more effective than the coldly reasoned acts of maturity. And now, though eventual success was no whit nearer than it had been a few moments previously, Alec felt immensely better in mind. He had come to a decision. He had mapped his course. He meant to keep his job, if that were at all possible, and fight. And he meant to fight until he got to the top.
Now his footstep was no longer stumbling. He walked with a firm tread. As he strode up and down the pier, his heart was beating the call to arms.
Suddenly he stopped in his tracks. On the adjoining pier was Hawley. Although it was now dark, Alec could see him plainly in the glow of the pier shed's lights. There could be no mistake as to the man's identity. Where he had come from, Alec had no idea; nor had he a much clearer idea of where the man was going, for Hawley, plainly intoxicated, was reeling about uncertainly. And he was dangerously near to the edge of the pier. He was on the ferry pier, where the tugboat from across the river landed its passengers; and no oyster-boat had tied up at the end of this pier. Beyond its edge was only deep, dark, cold, swirling water.
At sight of Hawley, a feeling of hatred leaped into Alec's heart. He wanted to rush over to the pier and attack this man who had tried to kill him.
Suddenly Alec's heart stood still. The drunken sailor, reeling at the very edge of the pier, stumbled over a coil of rope, and fell backward over the string-piece, bellowing like a mad bull. Then there was a splash and silence.
For a single instant Alec stood as though rooted to the floor. For one second he exulted at the disaster that had overtaken his enemy. Then a shudder ran over him as he realized that in thought, at least, he was a murderer, and that was a million times worse than being a thief.
"Help! Help!" he cried at the top of his voice. "Man overboard at the ferry landing!"
At the same time he rushed to the end of the pier and looked right and left for a trace of the missing sailor. In the darkness he could see only inky water.
Now he heard men running on the plank floor. "A light!" he cried. "Bring a light!"
In a moment the watchman was beside Alec with his lantern. Behind him came running the shipper and Captain Bagley. Alec seized the lantern and threw himself prone on the wharf. He held the light over the string-piece, while he looked right and left into the muddy water.
"Know who it was?" asked Captain Bagley, as he peered over Alec's shoulder.
"Hawley—drunk," said Alec briefly.
"The deuce!" exclaimed the skipper. "That's the end of him. He can't swim."
There was a swirl in the water a little way out from the pier. An arm and a shoulder writhed into view, then sank. Like a flash Alec was on his feet. He dropped the lantern on the pier, tore off his coat, and plunged headlong toward the swirl in the water.
In a moment his head popped up. "A rope!" he cried, then sank beneath the tide. The water began to foam and bubble. For an instant the struggling men came into view. An arm was around Alec's neck and another about his body. The men on the pier saw that he was struggling frantically in the clutch of the drowning sailor. The fight was terrific. Hawley clung to the lad with the strength of a giant, choking and strangling him. Alec worked frantically to get his arms free, treading water desperately to keep his head up. He swallowed quantities of muddy, salt water. Under the awful pressure about his neck, his eyes seemed to be fairly bulging from his head. Swiftly the tide swept the struggling men toward the next pier, where a row of oyster-boats lay fast. If the water carried them under the boats it meant the end of Alec and Hawley.
Captain Bagley raced around to the adjoining pier and out on a boat. Then he darted over the knighthead and lowered himself on the chains until he was level with the water.
"Bring that light, quick!" he cried.
The aged watchman hobbled to him as fast as he was able. Captain Rumford picked up the coil of rope, carried it swiftly aboard the boat, and made ready for a cast.
The tide swept the struggling sailors nearer. With all his power Alec was trying to free himself from the grip that was strangling him. His strength was almost gone. He could no longer see anything. His head was pounding. His brain seemed to swirl. But he tried desperately to keep his wits. He knew that unless he got free it would all be over in another moment. Now he wrenched his arms loose. Down under the tide sank the struggling men again, churning the water to foam in their struggles.
"Oh God!" cried Captain Bagley. "If only I could swim."
Above him the watchman steadied the light, while the shipper stood tense, the looped end of the hawser in his hand, ready to make his cast.
Down, down, down went the fighting sailors. But now Alec had his arms loose. With his last ounce of strength he shoved his hand over the arm that was strangling him and gripped the sailor by the nose. With his other hand he dealt him as savage a blow as he could in the pit of his stomach. The effect was magical. The sailor loosened his strangle hold and doubled up like a jack-knife. Alec grasped the man by the hair, and with all the strength left in him, struggled upward. His head popped out of water not ten feet from Skipper Bagley. The sailor, now unconscious, came to the surface. Alec could do no more. He turned on his back and tried to float. It seemed to him that he could not even wriggle his fingers. He was on the verge of unconsciousness himself. Yet he kept tight hold of Hawley's hair.
Then a voice that seemed to be almost overhead put new life in him. "Catch this rope," it said, "and slip it under your arms."
There was a splash in the water and the rope fell across his very fingers. Mechanically he grasped it. But he could not get it around his body. He slipped his free arm through the noose. Gently the rope tightened and he moved ahead through the water, the unconscious sailor trailing behind him. In a second Captain Bagley had him by the coat collar. Then the noose was slipped under both of Alec's arms.
"Easy now," cried the skipper, as he held himself on the chains with his legs, keeping Hawley's head above water with one hand, while he steadied Alec with the other. Strong arms pulled on the rope, and in a moment Alec was safe. Then the rope was made fast about Hawley, and shortly his prostrate form lay on the deck.
Captain Bagley tore off his own coat and wrapped it around Alec. "Run to the Bertha B," he said, "and get them wet things off. Stir up the fire and get something hot inside you."
"In a m-m-m-minute," said Alec, his teeth chattering. "We've g-g-got to save Hawley first."
"You get out of this," thundered the oyster shipper. "We'll take care of Hawley."
He grabbed the unconscious sailor by the heels and lifted him straight up. Captain Bagley drew down the man's tongue with his handkerchief. Water gushed from the sailor's open mouth. The watchman squeezed the man's ribs to try to press out more. Then they laid him on his back and began to pump his arms up and down.
"That's too fast," cried Alec, who was making haste slowly and watching them from the pier. "Fifteen times a minute is right, and you ought to press in his ribs when you pull down his arms."
"You get aboard the Bertha B," shouted Captain Bagley, "or I'll heave you overboard again."
"We've got to get him out of this cold air," said the shipper, for in a few minutes Hawley began to breathe. "Let's take him into the cabin of this boat."
The watchman led the way with his lantern, while the two captains carried the bulky form of the sailor down the companionway.
"Get his clothes off," said Captain Rumford.
Captain Bagley began to strip off the wet garments. Somehow Hawley's pocket-knife had worked up above his belt, taking the trousers' pocket with it. Captain Bagley could not loosen the belt buckle. He drew his own knife and started to cut off the offending pocket. The sailor's knife came tumbling out. After it slipped a tiny roll of round, green paper with a rubber band about it. For an instant Captain Bagley seemed paralyzed. Then he grabbed the roll and tore off the band. A number of wet greenbacks unrolled under his trembling fingers. Inside of them was another roll of bills, also fastened with a rubber band. Inside of all was a check. The ink on it had run, but the captain was still able to read the name on the check. The check was payable to Captain Christopher Bagley.
CHAPTER XI A WIRELESS TELEPHONE
For a moment the oyster skipper was like one struck dumb. Then his usual explosive nature asserted itself.
"That's where my money went," he burst out, holding up the severed pocket. He leaped to his feet. "You look after this scoundrel and don't let him get away. I'll go take care of the lad. We gave him a rough deal."
Captain Bagley was out of the cabin and aboard the Bertha B in no time. He found Alec shivering by the fire. Without a word the skipper helped him peel off the last of his wet garments, and once more he set to rubbing Alec with a rough towel. As he rubbed, he talked.
"Lad," he said, "we done you wrong. The missing money was in Hawley's pocket."
Alec was too much astonished for words. The skipper mistook his silence. "I want you to let bygones be bygones. Will you?" He held out his hand.
Alec grasped it warmly. "It's all right," he said, "and we'll forget it. But I was pretty much cut up for a time. I realize now how bad things looked." Then, after a moment Alec asked, "How is Hawley? Thank God! I went after him. Now you know I'm honest."
"We know more. We know you're a mighty brave lad. There ain't many fellows around here who would take a chance like that to save a fellow who had tried to murder them."
"I don't seem to get warm," said Alec.
The captain rubbed him more briskly than ever. Still Alec remained chilly.
"Guess you'd better put on warm clothes and get right into your bunk," said the skipper, poking up the fire and shoving the coffee-pot over the warmest griddle.
Alec pulled on some clothes, then wrapped himself in a reefing-jacket and lay down on his bunk, drawing some heavy quilts over him. Still he shivered. The captain remained with him, dosing him from time to time during the night with hot drinks that he brewed on the stove. But this time nature was to take her toll. Morning found Alec with a high fever.
The instant Captain Bagley was satisfied that Alec was going to be ill, he telephoned Captain Rumford. Bivalve, which was nothing but a shipping port with practically no residences, possessed no physician. Captain Rumford said he would bring his family doctor down with him; and before many hours passed the physician stood by Alec's bedside.
"You'll have to take mighty good care of this lad if he is to escape having pneumonia," said the physician, after testing Alec's pulse and temperature. "It's a wonder the shock didn't kill him outright."
"If his condition is so serious as that," said the shipper, "he ought to be in a good home where he can have proper care."
"He should. If you were willing to take a deck-hand into your house, Captain, you would be doing an act of real charity."
"Not charity," said the phlegmatic shipper slowly. "Justice. We owe a lot to that lad."
That was all Alec ever heard Captain Rumford say by way of explanation or apology. He was a man who often found it difficult to express himself in words; but he had other ways of expressing himself, as Alec was soon to learn. Even the little he had said was much for him to utter. But little as it was, Alec had heard the statement, and it made him feel a great deal better than any of the doctor's medicines did.
For though he was speedily whisked away to the shipper's home, where he had the best of care, his illness was severe. Chills and high fever seized him alternately. So severe had been the shock of the two exposures that his system could not seem to rally and throw off the heavy cold that had seized upon him. Ten days passed before Alec was pronounced fit by the doctor to take his place on the deck of the Bertha B.
Irksome enough those ten days seemed to Alec; yet they were probably as profitable a ten-day period as he ever spent in his life. For not a day passed that Captain Rumford did not spend considerable time in the sick-room. In those ten days Captain Rumford came to know Alec better than he would ordinarily have known him in a year.
"Alec," he said one day, "did you know that the man who fell overboard was Hawley—that is, did you know it before you went over after him?"
"Yes, sir," said Alec.
"You were morally certain he had tried to kill you, and yet you went overboard after him?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why did you do it?"
"Because he had tried to kill me."
"I don't understand what you mean."
"I mean—I mean," stammered Alec, with burning cheeks and downcast eyes, "that for an instant I was glad he had fallen overboard. Then the thought came to me that in my mind, at least, I was a murderer, and that was a million times worse than being the thief you believed me to be. I couldn't stand it, sir. The thought drove me wild and I had only one idea—to save Hawley at any price."
Captain Rumford stared at Alec fixedly. Here was a degree of fineness he had never before encountered in a human being. "He's true as steel," he thought to himself. Aloud he said merely, "I see," and paused in thought.
"What became of Hawley?" asked Alec suddenly.
"Oh! He's all right. Bagley was for having him put in prison at first. Then he cooled down, gave the fellow a deuce of a blowing up, and ended by finding him a job—just like the captain. Looks as though the fellow is trying to brace up, too. He'd be a good oysterman if he'd stay sober. By the way, have you made up your mind what you are going to do with yourself?"
"Yes, sir," said Alec emphatically. "I'm going to be an oysterman." But he did not tell Captain Rumford when he had come to that decision or why.
"Do you have any definite plan in mind?"
"No, sir. I've got to learn more about the oyster business first. But I'm going to know everything there is to know. And I'm going to have an up-to-date outfit. No old done-over schooners for me. I'm going to have an oyster-boat that is an oyster-boat."
The captain smiled ever so faintly. "What is it going to be like?" he inquired.
"Well, it will be bigger and higher and faster and have more hold room than any oyster-boat now in the fleet. And it will be equipped with wireless, sir."
The lurking smile vanished from the captain's face. "Where did you get those ideas?" he demanded.
"Partly from hearing others talk and partly from my own observation."
"If you ever do," said the captain, "I reckon you'll make a lot of ship owners scrap their boats. They can't compete with an outfit like that. How are you expecting to get the money for a boat like that? Don't you know it will cost a lot more than the present type of boat, and goodness knows that costs enough."
"The minute I finish paying for my father's gravestone, sir, I'm going to begin saving for that boat. If these ordinary workers around here earn a thousand to twelve hundred dollars a year, working ten or twelve hours a day, as I understand they do, I can earn a lot more working sixteen hours, can't I? And I can save most of what I earn."
"So that's your plan," observed the shipper, without comment. Then he thrust his hand into his breast pocket and drew forth a letter. "Your mention of your father's gravestone reminds me that I have a letter for you." And he handed the envelope to Alec.
"You have made a mistake," said Alec. "This letter is addressed to you."
"I know. But it is really for you."
In wonderment Alec opened and read the letter. Moisture came in his eyes. "Oh, sir, how can I ever thank you?" he cried.
The letter was from the Central City monument dealer in reply to a sharp note from the shipper. It said the stone had been set up and that the dealer would be glad to have the remainder due as soon as Alec could forward it. Alec did not know it, but the captain had practically guaranteed the payment of that money. It was his method of making amends.
When Alec grew a little stronger and could get about a little, but was still far from able to go aboard ship, he began to grow very restless. Finally he asked if he might have his wireless outfit. The shipper got it for him. The outfit interested everybody in the household, especially the shipper's daughter Elsa, who was one year younger than Alec. Following his instructions, she made a single-wire aerial between a near-by tree and the window, brought the lead-in wire into the room through an insulating tube, and ran the wire round the edge of the room to a table beside Alec's bed. Then she ran a ground-wire to a water pipe and helped Alec wire up his outfit.
Necessarily this was of the simplest possible sort. There was an old Ford spark-coil, half a dozen dry cells, a spark-gap, a transmitting condenser, a helix, a transformer, a crystal detector, headpiece, and key. All these were of the simplest and cheapest sort. Most of them Alec had made himself; and though they did not look so nice as the bright, shiny instruments to be bought of manufacturers, they answered the purpose quite as well. As Alec and Elsa wired the spark-gap to the transformer, the transformer to the condenser, the condenser to the spark-coil, and added the key and the cells, Alec explained how messages were sent in varying wave-lengths, and how it was possible to listen to one message and tune out other messages of different wave-lengths.
"If only I had a little more powerful battery," said Alec, "I could talk to my old chums at home. I believe I can easily talk to the big steamers out on the Atlantic, and I'm going to try it. You know one of my chums is Roy Mercer, wireless man of the steamer Lycoming. His boat will be coming up the coast from Galveston in a few days and I'm going to try to get into communication with him. Won't he be surprised to find that I am down in New Jersey and in a fair way to be a sailor myself."
Elsa was fascinated by the wireless. When Alec picked up some of the messages that were flying through the air in the evenings, and copied them down for her, she was so excited she could hardly keep her mind on her lessons.
"If only I could understand what it means," she said, as she sat listening from time to time with the receivers strapped to her ears.
"That's easy," smiled Alec. "I can teach you and you'll be able to learn in a few weeks."
"But you won't be here in a few weeks," sighed Elsa, "and besides I want to communicate by wireless right away."
"The only way to do that," said Alec, "is to have a wireless telephone. But I don't have the instruments. They cost more than a wireless telegraph set, too."
"What would you use?" asked Elsa.
"If I just had a good storage battery instead of these dry cells, a V. T. socket and bulb, some B batteries and a telephone block to add to the instruments I already have, we could receive wireless telephone messages O. K. And it wouldn't take very much additional equipment for us to be able to send wireless telephone messages. Some day when I have the time and the money, I'm going to make and buy a complete outfit. With that, I can hold a conversation with any one else who has an outfit within range."
"Wouldn't that be wonderful!" cried Elsa. "Just to think of it! If I had an outfit here and you had one on the Bertha B we could talk to each other no matter where you were, whether you were tied up at your pier or out on the Bay! It would be wonderful."
When Alec looked at the bright face before him, with the flashing, blue eyes, pink cheeks, red lips, and curly brown hair, he, too, thought it would be wonderful. He also thought it would be worth quite as much as some of the dollars he might earn and save. Very quickly he decided that he could wait a few hours longer than he had expected for his ideal oyster-boat, and put those hours into the making of some wireless telephone sets. Of course they wouldn't look as nice as store goods, but they would be quite as effective; and when he and Elsa were talking to each other through miles of space and over leagues of tumbling water, he knew neither one would remember or care about the looks of their instruments. What they would be concerned about would be instruments that talked. That, he suddenly thought, was just what the shipper wanted and the Bertha B's captain wanted, and everybody else wanted—dependability, whether in men or instruments. It wasn't the varnish on the outside that made a man or a wireless instrument worth while. It was the quality of performance that came out of that man or instrument.
Alec had almost fallen into a day-dream when he was recalled by Elsa's voice. "Dad's crazy about music, you know, and nobody in the family knows one note from another. He promised me a fine piano on my next birthday if I'd learn to play it, but I don't want the old piano. I'm going to ask him to get me a wireless telephone set instead."
"If you get it," said Alec, "I'll make and buy the pieces I need to convert this outfit into a first-class telephone set. Then we'll be fixed. If your father won't buy you the set, then I'll make all the pieces I can for you, and we can manage to buy what is lacking. You know a fellow can make almost everything except the receivers and the battery."
In one respect Elsa was like Captain Bagley. To think was to act. No sooner had she decided to ask for a wireless telephone set than she made her request. She came back with a long face. Her father would none of it.
Alec became thoughtful. "If I just had those few pieces I need to add to this set," he said, "I believe I could make your father change his mind in regard to the matter."
"How?" cried Elsa.
"I believe if he once listened in with a wireless telephone, he'd want one himself."
"Impossible!" cried Elsa. "He's as set as Gibraltar in his ways. Why, it was years before we could get him to install an ordinary telephone, and he wouldn't get a motor-car until years after everybody else here had one. And I know he thinks this wireless set of yours is all nonsense."
"I'd bet a dollar to a doughnut he'd change his mind if I could just get a telephone set while I'm here."
"What is it you need? Tell me again."
"A good storage battery, a V. T. socket and bulb, some B batteries and a telephone block."
"Would a battery from a Ford car answer?"
"That's exactly what I want."
"Well, I have a Ford runabout, you know, and I take care of it myself. Dad kicks about it every time I come in smeared up with grease. But he can't stop me. I'll get that battery charged and uncouple it and bring it up here. And I've got enough money to buy those other things unless they're too awful expensive."
"They don't cost so much," said Alec. "It's the battery that's expensive."
"Tell me again what they were. Wait. Write it down."
Elsa brought a piece of paper and a pencil. Alec wrote down his list. Then he thought the matter over carefully. "Yes," he said, "those are all the pieces I need, though I ought to have a second set of receivers. They'd fix us up all right. If you get them, we can hear well, especially if the battery is freshly charged. We'll use them while I'm here, and after I go you can keep them as part of the set I'm going to make for you."
Elsa left the room. Presently Alec heard the purring of her motor-car. Then he sat in silence for a long time. Finally he heard a motor-car drive into the yard. Not long afterward Elsa came into the room, struggling with her Ford battery.
"Had it recharged," she panted, "and got all the things you wanted."
"Then we'll wire them right up," said Alec.
"I'm awful sorry, but I have to attend a rehearsal for our class play. I can't stay now."
Alec wired up the instruments himself. It was early evening, and atmospheric conditions seemed ideal for wireless communication.
"Now we'll see what the outfit will do," said Alec to himself, as he clamped a pair of receivers on his head and threw over his switch.
For a long time he listened and worked, tuning and adjusting his instruments. At first there was a frightful whistling and wailing in his ears. But gradually he tuned it out, eliminating all but the sounds he wished to hear.
"Now I guess I can handle her O. K.," muttered Alec.
Just then a voice came ringing through the air. "This is WJZ broadcasting. We will begin our concert this evening with the sextette from Lucia, rendered by singers from the Metropolitan Opera Company." Then, after a moment's pause, "Stand by for three minutes."
"Captain Rumford," called Alec loudly.
"Hello! What is it?" came the response from below.
"Won't you come here at once, please?"
Captain Rumford ran up-stairs to Alec's room, thinking something was the matter.
"Please sit down and put this on your head," said Alec.
The captain frowned. "What's this nonsense?" he said sharply. "I thought you were in trouble."
"Please do as I ask," said Alec. "I won't keep you five minutes."
The captain sat down, the frown still on his forehead. The music started. Clear as a bell on a frosty morning came the beautiful melody, now rising, now falling, every word clear and distinct. Captain Rumford's face was a study. Astonishment, incredulity, intense pleasure were reflected on his countenance. He sat as one entranced. Skilfully Alec shifted his tuning instruments, shutting out the occasional blurs and keeping the tone sharp and distinct. The selection ended. Captain Rumford turned toward Alec and started to remove his headpiece.
"Wait," said Alec. "Please sit still."
"The next number on our programme will be Humoresque, as played by Mischa Elman," came the voice in the air.
In another moment the strains of a violin were sounding in the captain's ears. For nearly an hour he sat in silence, listening to the world's most beautiful music, rendered by famous musicians. He was too amazed to speak. He sat there, drinking in the music, the very picture of ecstasy.
"Where's that from?" he demanded, when the announcer said the concert was ended.
"Newark," said Alec.
"Impossible! Why, Newark is more than one hundred miles distant. It can't be."
Alec smiled. "It was Newark just the same," he said. "That was the Newark station of the Westinghouse Manufacturing Company broadcasting."
"What do you mean?"
"Why, they send out stuff broadcast at every hour of the afternoon and evening. It's free for everybody. All you need is a wireless telephone set."
"Do you mean they send out music?"
"They send out everything you can think of—government weather forecasts, marine news, happenings of the day, baseball scores, stories for children, lectures by famous men and women, the finest kind of music, and lots of other stuff. They give a concert every night in the week. And they send their weekly programmes free to anybody that asks for them. And there are many other stations that broadcast, too. There are Pittsburgh and Chicago and Anacostia and ever so many others."
The captain was dumfounded. "Young man!" he said, "What did that outfit cost?"
"Very little," said Alec. "I made most of it myself. Elsa got these few things this afternoon. For a hundred or a hundred and fifty dollars you could get as fine a receiving set as you'd want. A sending set would cost more."
"You can! Alec, will you buy a good set for me and wire it up? I want the best you can get. You can spend as much money as you like, within reason."
"Certainly, sir," said Alec, trying to keep from shouting for very joy. "I'll be only too glad to. I'll write for catalogues at once and order the stuff. And when it comes, I'll install it and teach you and Elsa how to operate it."
"Fine!" sighed the shipper. "At last we are going to have some music in this house!"
CHAPTER XII ALEC GETS A NEW JOB
Like many another wish, that for the two sets of wireless telephones was unexpectedly slow of achievement. The oyster shipper's instruments arrived promptly enough, and Alec installed them and taught Captain Rumford and his family how to manipulate them. But it was a long, long time before Alec's own set was completed. Needing to save every cent possible, Alec bought only such materials as he could not pick up free, and set about constructing his instruments; but it was a slow job.
For now he was once more back on the oyster-boat; and his plan to learn all there was to learn about oystering, and to spend every minute of his waking hours at work, was more than an idle boast. So he was up by four in the morning or soon thereafter, helping the cook. All day he was busy catching oysters. By the time the Bertha B was scrubbed off and made fast to her pier, darkness was at hand. Alec's evenings were necessarily very brief, as it was absolutely necessary for him to go to bed early if he was to get up early. The only free time he had was that consumed by the trips to and from the oyster grounds. And even that grew steadily less, as he took more and more burdens upon his shoulders.
Like most boys of his age, Alec knew considerable about gasoline motors. In fact Alec was fairly skilled in their handling. Often he had helped a neighbor at home clean and repair his motor-car. His high school physics had taught him a great deal about the theory of gas engine operation. And he had many times driven his neighbor's car. Altogether, he was a handy lad to have about where there were gas engines of any sort.
Down in the hold, where the Bertha's engine chugged so steadily, the air was always tainted with the sickening fumes of exploded gasoline, and the smell of oil. For hours every day, year in and year out, Joe had sat beside his engine, unrelieved. Never before had the Bertha B numbered among her crew any one else who was capable of tending the engine. Now, as Alec, little by little, showed his capacity and won Joe's confidence, he was allowed to handle the big motor. In time, he was permitted, for limited periods, to operate it altogether, while Joe went to deck for a breath of fresh air. Thus Alec learned a great deal about the Bertha B's motor in particular and ship motors in general.
As against his capability in some lines, was balanced Alec's utter ignorance in others. He knew nothing whatever about navigation. But he set himself to learn, and the captain, seeing his desire, aided him. He explained the compass to Alec and showed him how to steer by it so that he could keep a given course, when no landmarks were in sight. He told him how fast the Bertha B ordinarily traveled, and what her maximum speed was. He explained the best speeds for dredging, the proper length of chain to use on the dredges at given stages of the tide, showed him the distant landmarks by which he could locate the Rumford oyster grounds when the stakes were missing, taught him how to find his way into the river at night by the range-lights, and how to distinguish East Point Light from Egg Island Light and all the other lights along the Bay. And the captain taught him about the tides, and how to figure them and take advantage of their flow and allow for drift in steering the boat. He also taught Alec how to find his way through a fog, and how to judge the direction and distance of sounds in a fog. These and many other things Captain Bagley explained to his new hand, delighted, as men of accomplishment always are, to find a lad who was really eager to learn.
Day by day Alec grew in knowledge. All that he needed to make his knowledge wisdom was experience. And with every revolution of the sun he was acquiring that. Occasionally the captain let Alec steer the boat while he himself went back in the cabin for a time. Sometimes the engineer asked Alec to run the motor for a few minutes. And often, when they were all on deck culling oysters, and Alec and Bishop had cleaned up their dredgeful, Dick would call across the deck to Alec and ask if he would look at the roast in the oven, or put a little more water on the beans or stir the potatoes. And Alec would skip inside and execute the commission. So he came to know, not only how to prepare the foods furnished on the Bertha B, but also to know which foods sailors like and which they will not eat. In these and a hundred other ways, Alec was daily making good his assertion that he wanted to know all there was to know about the oyster business, and storing away a vast fund of information that would some day be of the greatest value to him.
Necessarily, therefore, the construction of his wireless outfit was delayed. With the ship pitching and rolling, as it usually did in the Bay, it was difficult to do the fine, exacting work required, such as the winding of the variometer he was making, or the fitting of the parts of a large, loose coupler. Yet every available moment went into the work.
Meantime, Alec had gained Captain Bagley's permission to put up his telegraph set on the Bertha B. He ran a single-wire aerial from masthead to cabin roof and brought his lead-in wire directly into his bunk. He built a shelf at the foot of his bunk and fastened his instruments on it. His cells he secured in a corner of the bunk itself.
In these narrow quarters where he could hardly sit upright he carried on whatever wireless communications he held. They were brief enough. Yet he listened to many a message speeding through the air, and he particularly liked to "take Cape May." Never before had Alec been so near a great wireless plant. The station there, only twenty miles from the Bertha's pier, sent its powerful messages snapping into Alec's ear as distinctly as though the sending instruments were in the Bertha's very cabin.
Best of all were the brief conversations Alec had with Roy Mercer, when the Lycoming passed. Every time that steamer went up or down the coast, Roy and Alec got into touch by wireless and told each other what they had been doing. And sometimes Roy was able to talk to Charley Russell, another member of the Camp Brady Wireless Patrol, who had become first a fire patrol and then a ranger in the forests of Pennsylvania, and had saved the state's finest stand of timber by the help of his wireless and the powerful battery his fellows of the Wireless Patrol had purchased for him. Often Alec caught Charley's answers himself, without needing to have Roy relay them to him. It was mighty good to hear from his old comrade back among the Pennsylvania mountains.
At last, however, Alec completed his telephone set. He still lacked a battery, but his keen sense of obligation would not let him buy one until he had entirely wiped out his debt to Captain Rumford. For Alec now regarded his indebtedness for the gravestone as an obligation to the shipper rather than to the marble dealer. Every week Alec turned over to Captain Rumford practically all of his pay. This mounted steadily from the ten dollars earned in his first week to full pay. So the debt was extinguished much sooner than Alec had dreamed it would be.
His next expenditure was for a battery. Once he had secured that, he wired up his telephone set and found it worked well. That night he broke his rule about retiring early. He was talking to Elsa. After that the two conversed for a time in the early evening before the great electrical companies began to broadcast their programmes, so as to be done with the instruments before Captain Rumford appeared to listen to the music. The dream of the captain's life was realized. He had music in his home every night, and an amplifying horn made it audible to all.
Alec, needless to say, became a first-class deck-hand. Not a day passed that he did not learn something new about the oyster business. As he had practically no expenses, his savings grew fast.
Cold weather came. From time to time it was too cold to operate the oyster-boats. Then the fleet lay in port and the shippers worried because they could not fill their orders.
"When I get my boat," said Alec to himself, "nothing but the heaviest ice will prevent her from operating. She will be high enough so the men can work in the hold, and there won't be any likelihood of the oysters freezing."
Truly it is an ill wind that blows nobody good. The cold days, though they brought loss to shippers and sailors alike, were helpful to Alec. When there was no work for the lad aboard the Bertha B, Captain Rumford brought him into the office. The shipper still clung to the old-fashioned business methods he had learned as a boy. He had no clerical help, but tried to keep his accounts and carry on his correspondence in person. Though it was more of a task than he could handle, for a long time he obstinately refused to alter his methods.
One cold day in midwinter, when every boat in the fleet was tied up, Alec noticed that the captain was fairly sweating under the mountain of clerical work that had accumulated. He was writing some letters, which he had later to copy so as to have duplicates; and there were bills to be made out, bills to be paid, accounts to be entered in the books, correspondence to be answered, and a dozen other tasks to be done.
"Won't you let me help you?" said Alec. "I haven't done a thing since you brought me into the office but run errands. Any ten-year-old can do that as well as I can. In high school I studied bookkeeping, typewriting, commercial correspondence, and a good many other things about business and office work. I've had the training. Won't you let me help you?"
The captain hesitated. In all his life nobody but himself had ever written a business letter for him, or posted an account in his books. He looked at the pile of work heaped up on his desk. Then he looked at the unopened mail Alec had just brought from the post-office.
"You can slit the envelopes," he said, still hesitating. "That would save some time."
Alec had to turn sharp about to hide the smile that he couldn't prevent. Then he whipped out his knife, and in a minute every letter was cut and ready to open. Alec even pulled each letter part way out of its envelope, to facilitate handling.
"Now let me copy that list, while you look over your mail," urged Alec.
"I don't know," said the shipper. "Let me see your handwriting."
Alec wrote the shipper's name and address. His penmanship was a great deal better than the shipper's cramped and hurried chirography.
"Well, you be careful—very careful," said the shipper, reluctantly surrendering his pen to Alec.
Alec's task was purely mechanical. He copied the list faster and more legibly than the captain had done. When he completed it, the captain was addressing shipping tags. "Let me do that, while you do something more important," urged Alec.
"Be careful. Be very careful," warned the shipper.
When the tags were finished, and Captain Rumford found that not a single mistake had been made, he gave Alec another task. So the two worked busily all the morning long. Before either was aware of it, noon had arrived.
"By George!" cried the shipper, with sparkling eyes. "There's a whole day's work done and it's only dinner time. We'll be able to make a big hole in this pile this afternoon," and he pointed to the accumulated work awaiting attention at one end of his desk.
The cold spell continued for several days, and in that time Captain Rumford and Alec cleaned up every one of the accumulated tasks; the captain got his books posted, and even got a little ahead with some routine work. The captain felt as though a mountain had been lifted from his shoulders. Alec realized that another opportunity had come his way. He had gained an insight into the clerical end of oystering. He didn't know whether other offices were run like Captain Rumford's or not; but he did understand that in this particular office, at least, there was room for great improvement. If only the captain would change his methods, he could still do his work single-handed. And with the cost of clerk hire so high, that was a thing worth accomplishing. In his own mind Alec pictured the office as he would conduct it if it were his. He thought over all the time-saving devices he could employ. And he decided that he could do as much work as the captain did in about half the time it took the shipper. That was not because Alec considered himself a superior clerk, but because he knew how to use modern clerical devices and appreciated their value.
"Captain Rumford," he said, when he had turned the matter over well in his mind, "I notice that you write out your shipping tags by hand day after day, and that it takes quite a little time. Don't you have regular customers that you ship to year after year?"
"Why, lad, I've got customers I've shipped to for twenty years," said the captain proudly.
"And in all those twenty years I suppose you've addressed all your tags by hand?"
"Certainly, certainly."
"Wouldn't you save time, Captain, if you had a rubber stamp made for each old customer? Here's a tag you've addressed to Day and Moore, Scranton, Pennsylvania. Ever since I've been here I have noticed bags of oysters going to them almost daily. So I judge they are old customers."
"Exactly," replied the shipper. "One of my oldest customers."
"If you had a rubber stamp with their name and address on it, you could stamp a tag much faster than you can write it, and the address would be much easier to read. With a stamp for each old customer, hung up with the address of each customer over his particular stamp, you could address a good many tags in a minute. Think how much time you would save."
"Um!" grunted the captain. "Um! I'll think it over. It might work. It might work."
Alec tried hard to keep down the smile that wanted to come. "And, Captain Rumford," he went on, "if only you would get a typewriter, I could write letters for you and make carbon copies or copy them in the copying-press. It wouldn't take one-fourth the time it takes to write your letters by hand, let alone make copies of some of them. Then you'd have copies of everything."
"Um!" said the captain again. "But who'd do the typewriting when you are not here? The Bertha B won't always be tied up by cold weather."
"Well," laughed Alec, "I don't suppose I'll always be a deck-hand on the Bertha B, for that matter. If you wanted to make a deck-hand into an office hand, I don't know what would prevent you. And I'm sure 'Barkis would be willin'.'"
"Barkis," said the shipper, straightening up. "Who's he, and what's he got to do with my business, anyway?"
"Oh! He's just a character in a book," said Alec. This time he could not conceal the smile, and he added, "He's just a funny sort of fellow that makes you laugh when you think of him."
"But what's this about his being 'willin''? What's the connection, anyway?"
"Oh! That was just a phrase of his, that came into my head. What I meant was that I would be willing to change from deck-hand to office hand any time you wanted me to."
Captain Rumford wheeled around toward Alec as though he were about to bite him. "Are you getting tired of catching oysters so soon?" he demanded. "I thought you had some sand."
"Tired!" cried Alec. "I love it. But I don't want to be a deck-hand forever, and I don't intend to be, either. There's so much to learn about the business that I've got to keep moving, or I'll never learn it."
"So you think you already know all there is to learn on shipboard, do you?" said the captain with cold contempt.
"No, sir. I do not," replied Alec, his cheeks aflame at the captain's words. "But I realize there are so many things to learn that I must be moving on or I'll be an old man before I'm ready to start in the business."
"So you're still determined to be an oysterman?"
"Absolutely."
"That's very good. But if I were you I'd wait a while before I tried to teach old oystermen how to run their business."
"If you think that's the way I feel," cried Alec indignantly, "you are very much mistaken. What I want to do now is to learn all there is to know about oystering. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to learn some of the things oystermen have never done. I don't know what they are, yet, but there are some such things. You don't catch oysters to-day the same way you did when you were young. Then you didn't have gasoline engines, or telephones, or motor-boats, or automobiles. And to-morrow we shall be using lots of things we don't use to-day. I'm going to find out what they are and learn all about them, so I'll be right up-to-date when I become an oyster shipper."
The shipper looked long and hard at Alec. "Why are you so all-fired keen about doing things in what you call an 'up-to-date way'? Suppose a man doesn't take up with these newfangled notions, he's still an oysterman, isn't he, and he still has his beds and still sells oysters, doesn't he?"
"Yes, for a time," said Alec slowly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," said Alec, "that no man and no business can be very much behind the times and remain successful. If a merchant lighted his store with candles instead of electricity, he would not keep his trade very long in these days. Some of the oystermen are still using sails, I notice, while the rest of you are using gasoline. Well, they will eventually be driven out of the oyster business. They have to pay the same wages for hands that you do, and they don't catch more than half as many oysters in the same time. See how that cuts their margin of profit. When they strike a poor season, a lot of them will go broke."
"I reckon you're about right."
"Well, when I become a shipper, I don't intend to go broke, I'm going to stay right up with the leaders. So I want to know all I can learn about oystering—office work as well as navigation. And as for your office work, if you had a typewriter I could answer your letters in the afternoons, after the Bertha B gets in. The skipper could put me ashore before he unloads his oysters. Why, I could have your letters pretty well cleaned up before the boat made fast for the night. I could help you quite a lot, sir."
"Um!" grunted the shipper. "I'll think it over."
But before the captain came to a decision, Alec had found another task that took every moment of his spare time. The weather turned warm, and the fleet resumed work. The usual activity again prevailed at the pier shed. In the midst of it, old Pete had a paralytic stroke. He could no longer collect shells, and many a shipper found himself with his scows still full of shells when morning came. Captain Rumford was one of them. Alec was quick to see the opportunity. If he could take care of these shells, he would help both his employer and himself, for he could sell the shells when spring came, to the oyster-planters. At once he spoke to Captain Rumford about it.
"If I could get a boat," he said, "I would guarantee to keep your scows clean."
"If there was any way you could do it," said the shipper, "I'd be mighty glad to let you. I'm tired of fooling with these old fellows. It's a real shell game they work on us."
"I can do it easily, sir," pleaded Alec. "I have lots of time after the Bertha B reaches her pier."
"Maybe you could," said the shipper, still hesitating.