initial commit of ebook 26560HEADmain

273 files changed, 29302 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/26560-8.txt b/26560-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e8451fa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,9682 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Jim Spurling, Fisherman, by Albert Walter
+Tolman
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Jim Spurling, Fisherman
+       or Making Good
+
+
+Author: Albert Walter Tolman
+
+
+
+Release Date: September 8, 2008  [eBook #26560]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Bruce Albrecht, Verity White, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 26560-h.htm or 26560-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/5/6/26560/26560-h/26560-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/5/6/26560/26560-h.zip)
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+      Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has been
+      preserved.
+
+      Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
+
+
+
+
+
+JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN
+
+or Making Good
+
+by
+
+ALBERT W. TOLMAN
+
+Illustrated
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: [See page 279
+
+HE PLUNGED INTO THE SEA AND DRAGGED HIMSELF TOWARD THE ROCK TO WHICH HIS
+FATHER WAS FASTENED]
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Harper & Brothers Publishers
+New York and London
+
+JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN
+
+Copyright, 1918, by Harper & Brothers
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+TO MY BOYS
+ALBERT AND EDWARD
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAP.                                 PAGE
+  I.      SMASHED UP                       1
+  II.     A FRESH START                   18
+  III.    TARPAULIN ISLAND                29
+  IV.     MIDNIGHT MARAUDERS              41
+  V.      GETTING READY                   53
+  VI.     TRAWLING FOR HAKE               66
+  VII.    SHORTS AND COUNTERS             78
+  VIII.   SALT-WATER GIPSIES              90
+  IX.     FISTS AND FIREWORKS            102
+  X.      REBELLION IN CAMP              114
+  XI.     TURN OF THE TIDE               128
+  XII.    PULLING TOGETHER               138
+  XIII.   FOG-BOUND                      150
+  XIV.    SWORDFISHING                   162
+  XV.     MIDSUMMER DAYS                 174
+  XVI.    A LOST ALUMNUS                 186
+  XVII.   BLOWN OFF                      198
+  XVIII.  BUOY OR BREAKER                208
+  XIX.    ON THE WHISTLER                221
+  XX.     SQUARING AN ACCOUNT            233
+  XXI.    OLD FRIENDS                    243
+  XXII.   PERCY SCORES                   255
+  XXIII.  WHITTINGTON GRIT               269
+  XXIV.   CROSSING THE TAPE              283
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+HE PLUNGED INTO THE SEA AND DRAGGED HIMSELF
+TOWARD THE ROCK TO WHICH HIS FATHER WAS
+FASTENED                                          _Frontispiece_
+
+THE CAMP AT SPROWL'S COVE                           _Facing p._   56
+
+LEANING AGAINST THE MAST-HOOP THAT ENCIRCLED
+HIS WAIST, HE LIFTED THE LONG LANCE AND
+POISED IT FOR THE BLOW                                  "        166
+
+KNEES BRACED TIGHTLY AGAINST THE SIDES OF THE
+STERN, HANDS LOCKED ROUND THE STOUT BUTT
+OF THE LANCE, HE FOILED RUSH AFTER RUSH OF
+THE BLACK-FINNED, WHITE-BELLIED PIRATES                 "        172
+
+THEY STOOD CLOSE TOGETHER ON THE CIRCULAR TOP,
+HOLDING ON TO THE CROSSED BAILS, WAIST-HIGH             "        222
+
+"WE NEED THAT SLOOP AND WE'RE GOING TO HAVE
+HER!"                                                   "        252
+
+
+
+
+JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN
+
+
+
+
+JIM SPURLING
+FISHERMAN
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+SMASHED UP
+
+
+"Here comes J. P. Whittington, Junior, Esquire, in his new Norman! Some
+speed--what?"
+
+The three Graffam Academy seniors, Jim Spurling, Roger Lane, and
+Winthrop Stevens, who were sitting on the low, wooden fence before the
+campus, earnestly discussing the one thing that had engrossed their
+minds for the past two weeks, stopped talking and leaned forward.
+
+On the broad, elm-lined street beyond the Mall suddenly appeared a cloud
+of dust, out of which shot a gray automobile. Its high speed soon
+brought it to the academy grounds, and it came to an abrupt stop before
+the fence.
+
+"Pile in, fellows!" shouted the driver, a bareheaded youth in white
+flannels, "and I'll take you on a little spin."
+
+He was a slim, sallow lad of seventeen, with a straw-colored pompadour
+crowning his freckled forehead. The sleeves of his outing shirt were
+rolled up above his elbows, revealing his bony, sunburnt arms. He wore a
+gay red tie, and a tennis blazer, striped black and white, lay on the
+seat beside him.
+
+"No, thanks, Percy," replied Lane. "Sorry we can't go; but we're too
+busy."
+
+Spurling and Stevens nodded as Whittington's light-blue eyes traveled
+inquiringly from one to the other.
+
+"Ah, come on!" he invited. "Be sports! Let's celebrate the end of the
+course. Just to show how good I feel, I'm going to scorch a three-mile
+hole through the atmosphere between here and Mount Barlow faster than it
+was ever done before. Tumble aboard and help hold this barouche down on
+the pike while I burn the top off it for the last time."
+
+Pulling out a book of tissue wrappers and a sack of tobacco, he began to
+roll a cigarette with twitching, yellowed fingers.
+
+"Anybody got a match? No? Then I'll have to dig one up myself."
+
+He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a lucifer. Soon he was inhaling
+the smoke and talking rapidly.
+
+"I'm so glad this is my last week here I feel like kicking my head off.
+Once I shake the dust of this dump off my tires, you can bet you'll
+never catch me here again. Say, do you know what this Main Street
+reminds me of? An avenue in Metairie Cemetery in New Orleans, with a row
+of white tombs on each side. I saw it last Christmas. They bury 'em
+aboveground there, too. The Rubes in this burg are just as dead, only
+they don't know it."
+
+Drawing a final, long, luxurious whiff, he tossed the half-smoked
+cigarette away.
+
+"Well, so long! My dad's coming on the five-ten to see his only son
+graduate _cum laude_. And me loaded down with conditions a truck-horse
+couldn't haul! Wouldn't that jar you? Guess I'll have to do my
+road-burning before he gets here. Hold a watch on me, will you? I'm out
+for the record."
+
+"Careful, or you'll get pinched for over-speeding," cautioned Stevens.
+
+Whittington spat contemptuously.
+
+"Pinch your grandmother!" he jeered. "I've been pinched too many times
+to mind a little thing like that."
+
+Off darted the gray car. The three gazed after it in silence. Then
+Spurling spoke.
+
+"Must seem rather pleasant to have a bank-account you can't touch the
+bottom of, mustn't it? They say his father's all sorts of a millionaire.
+Hope he doesn't get smashed up or run over somebody."
+
+"He's a good-natured fool," commented Lane. "But you can't help liking
+him, after all. Now let's get back to business."
+
+It was Commencement week in mid-June at the old country academy nestled
+among the New England hills. The lawns before the substantial white
+houses were emerald with the fresh, unrivaled green of spring. Fragrant
+lilacs sweetened the soft air. The walks under the thick-leafed elms
+were thronged with talking, laughing groups. Bright-colored dresses
+dotted the campus before the dingy brick buildings. Tennis-courts and
+ball-field were alive with active figures. A few days more and students
+and strangers would be gone, and the old town would sink into the drowsy
+quiet of the long summer vacation.
+
+Lounging on the notched, whittled fence, Lane, Spurling, and Stevens
+fell once more into earnest conversation.
+
+Spurling came from a Maine coast town. He was nineteen, tall,
+broad-shouldered, dark-complexioned, deliberate in speech and movements.
+Physically very strong, he had caught on the academy ball team and
+played guard in football. Mentally he was a trifle slow; but in the
+whole school there was no squarer, more solid fellow. So far as finances
+went, he was dependent on his own resources; whatever education he got
+he must earn himself.
+
+Lane afforded in many respects a decided contrast to Spurling. Reared on
+a New Hampshire farm in the shadow of the White Mountains, he was of
+medium build, wiry and active, a practical joker, full of life and
+spirit. He had red hair and the quick temper that goes with it. Though
+not much of a student, he had at eighteen a keen, clear business head.
+Like Spurling, he had been obliged to make his own way; and, like
+Spurling, he was abundantly able to make it.
+
+Winthrop Stevens, or "Throppy," as his friends nicknamed him, claimed a
+small Massachusetts city as his home. He was the best scholar of the
+three, dark, quiet, studious, with a decided trend toward mechanics and
+electricity. Though not obliged to work for his schooling, he had always
+chummed with the other two, and with them had been a waiter at a shore
+hotel the previous season.
+
+The trio were endeavoring to decide what they should do the coming
+summer.
+
+"Well," said Lane, "what shall it be? Juggling food again at the
+Beachmont?"
+
+"Not for me," answered Spurling, decidedly. "I'm sick of hanging round a
+table, pretending to do as many unnecessary things as you can, wondering
+whether the man you've waited on is going to give up a half-dollar or a
+nickel, knowing that the more uncomfortable you can make him feel the
+bigger fee you'll pull down. No more tipping for me! I'd rather earn my
+money, even if I don't get so much."
+
+"Hits me, Jim," assented Stevens. "What do you say, Budge?"
+
+"Same here," agreed Roger.
+
+The long-drawn shriek of a locomotive rose from the valley-bottom.
+
+"There's the five-ten!" ejaculated Lane. "I pity Whittington when his
+dad finds how things have gone."
+
+"Percy isn't the only one who needs sympathy," said Spurling, soberly.
+"What about his father?"
+
+"I'm sorry for 'em both," was Lane's comment. "But the Whittington
+family'll have to handle its own troubles. Now, fellow-members, to the
+question before the house! Unless I raise at least two hundred dollars
+in the next three months, it's no college for me in September."
+
+A short silence followed. Spurling took out his knife and deliberately
+slithered a long, splintery shaving off the fence-top.
+
+"I've an idea," he said, slowly. "Give me till evening and I'll tell
+you about it. What d'you say to a last game of tennis?"
+
+The others agreed and slipped off the fence. Lane glanced up the road.
+
+"Here comes Whittington, scorching like a blue streak! And there's Bill
+Sanders's old auto crawling up May Street hill from the railroad
+station! If Percy should hit him--good-night!"
+
+The gray machine rapidly grew larger. The people on the sidewalks stood
+still and watched.
+
+May Street crossed Main at right angles, and a high cedar hedge before
+the corner house made it impossible for the two drivers to see each
+other until they were close together. On sped the gray car.
+
+"Isn't he humming!"
+
+Suddenly Whittington thrust out his left arm.
+
+"He's going to turn down May Street!" shouted Lane. "Bound to the
+station after his father. He'll hit Sanders, sure as fate! Hi! Hi there,
+Percy!"
+
+Heedless of the warning, Whittington whirled round into May Street and
+plunged full tilt into the hotel bus, striking it a glancing blow back
+of its front wheel. There was a tremendous crash.
+
+"Come on, fellows!" cried Lane.
+
+They ran at top speed toward the wreck. Through the clearing dust three
+figures were visible, extricating themselves from the ruins. Sanders,
+the hotel chauffeur, was groaning and rubbing his ankle. His only
+passenger, a bald, thick-set man, with smooth face and bulldog jaw, had
+a bleeding scratch down his right cheek and a badly torn coat.
+Whittington, apparently unharmed, was chalky and stuttering from
+fright.
+
+Spurling, for all his slowness, was the first to reach the wreck. He
+helped the stout stranger to his feet, and the man turned angrily toward
+Whittington. An exclamation of surprise burst from both.
+
+"Dad!"
+
+"Percy!"
+
+Understanding struggled with indignation on the older man's face.
+
+"Well," he growled, "so you've done it again!"
+
+For a moment the lad stood in shamefaced alarm, shaking from head to
+foot.
+
+"Are you much hurt, Dad?" he stammered.
+
+"Only a scratch," returned Whittington, senior. "But it's no thanks to
+you that I wasn't killed."
+
+He turned to Sanders, who was still chafing his ankle.
+
+"Anything broken?"
+
+"No, sir; only a sprain."
+
+"I'm glad it's no worse. Have this mess cleared away and I'll fix up
+with you later at the hotel; and get my suit-case over to my room, will
+you?"
+
+To his son he said:
+
+"We'll go to your dormitory."
+
+He limped grimly ahead; Percy followed. As he passed the three seniors
+he pulled a face of mock repentance. The boys resumed their way to the
+tennis-court.
+
+"Pretty poor stick, isn't he?" commented Lane, disgustedly. "Almost
+kills his father, and then laughs at it. Throws away in a few seconds
+more than enough to put the three of us half-way through our freshman
+year in college. No, I've no use for Whittington."
+
+"If he'd had to earn his own money," remarked Spurling, "he'd look on
+things differently. He's got a good streak in him."
+
+"Maybe so; but it'll take mighty hard work to bring it out. Well, here's
+the court. How'll we play?"
+
+In Whittington's room father and son silently removed the traces of the
+disaster. Then the father pointed to a chair.
+
+"Sit there! I've something to say to you."
+
+Percy took the indicated seat. Whittington, senior's, jaw stiffened.
+
+"Well!" he snapped. "Seems to me excuses are in order. You've smashed a
+thousand-dollar machine, ruined a five-hundred-dollar one, and just
+missed killing yourself and me in the bargain. Pretty afternoon's work,
+isn't it?"
+
+Percy looked injured, almost defiant.
+
+"You must know I'm mighty sorry to have dragged you into this scrape. I
+was half frightened to death when I thought you were hurt. But what odds
+does it make about the cars?"
+
+A twinkle appeared in his eye.
+
+"You've got the cash, Dad. Who'll spend it, if I don't?"
+
+Taking out his book, he began rolling a cigarette.
+
+"Stop that!" exclaimed his father, angrily, "and listen to me. It isn't
+the money I mind so much as it is the fool style in which you've thrown
+it away. Where's the thing going to end? That's what I want to know. If
+you'd only get mad when I talk to you, there'd be some hope for you. But
+you haven't backbone enough left to get mad. You've smoked it all away."
+
+"Oh, come now, Dad!"
+
+"You ask who'll spend the money. I know mighty well who won't, unless he
+strikes a new gait. There's plenty of colleges and hospitals to endow,
+and enough other ways of putting all I've got where it'll do some good.
+I've worked too hard and too long for my fortune to have a fool scatter
+it to the winds. You can come down to the hotel with me for supper.
+After that I'll foot the bills for your little excursion, and then go
+over alone to see Principal Blodgett. And let me say right now that
+it'll be a pretty important interview for you."
+
+Lane, Spurling, and Stevens, their tennis over, were starting for their
+boarding-house. Crossing the campus, they met Percy and his father. The
+former nodded soberly. Whittington, senior, a cross of court-plaster on
+his right cheek, passed them without a glance.
+
+"Percy doesn't look very happy," remarked Stevens, when they were at a
+safe distance.
+
+"Just a passing cloud," grinned Lane. "It takes more than a little thing
+like junking a thousand-dollar auto to bother Percy. He'll forget all
+about it before to-morrow."
+
+"See that dreadnought jaw on his father? If I was Percy I'd be kind of
+scary of that jaw. John P. Whittington isn't a man to stand much
+monkeying, or I miss my guess."
+
+"Well, we've got troubles of our own, and no dad with a fat
+bank-account to foot the bills. Why so still, Jim? Something on your
+mind, eh?"
+
+Jim's forehead was wrinkled.
+
+"Wait!" was all he deigned.
+
+Back in his room, after supper, he unbosomed himself: "A week ago I had
+a letter from Uncle Tom Sprowl. He lives in Stonington, on Deer Isle,
+east of Penobscot Bay; but most of the time he fishes and lobsters from
+Tarpaulin Island, ten miles south of Isle au Haut. Last month, just
+after he had started the season in good shape, he was taken down with
+rheumatism, and the doctor has ordered him to keep off the water for
+three months. Now that island is one of the best stands for fish and
+lobsters on the Maine coast. Somebody's going to use it this summer. Why
+shouldn't we? If we have reasonably good luck, we can clear up two
+hundred and fifty dollars apiece for the season's work. I've talked the
+thing over with Mr. Blodgett, and he thinks it's all right. Of course
+we'd be in for a lot of good hard work; but it's healthy, and we're all
+in first-class trim. We'd soon get hardened to it. Now, boys, it's up to
+you."
+
+Lane hesitated.
+
+"Do you think that two such farmers as Throppy and I could make much of
+a fist at fishing?"
+
+"Sure thing! I can show you how. I've fished since I was ten years old."
+
+"Where did you say the island is?" asked Stevens.
+
+"Right out in the Atlantic Ocean, a good twenty-five miles from the
+mainland. It's about a half-mile long and a quarter broad, partly
+covered with scrub evergreen, and has fifty acres of pasture. Uncle
+Tom's got some sheep there, too. He's afraid they'll be stolen; so he
+wants somebody there the earliest minute possible. He'll furnish all the
+gear and go halves with us on the season's catch. What do you say,
+Budge?"
+
+"I'm with you, if Throppy is."
+
+"It's a go," was Stevens's verdict.
+
+Somebody knocked on the door.
+
+"Come in!" called Spurling.
+
+To their great surprise, in came Mr. Whittington.
+
+Removing his Panama, he took the chair Spurling offered him. An
+unlighted cigar was gripped between his short, stubby fingers. There
+were dark circles under his steel-gray eyes, and his jaw had, if
+possible, more of a bulldog set than ever. His square, sturdy build,
+without fat or softness, suggested a freight locomotive with a driving
+power to go through anything. He was not a handsome man, but he was
+undeniably a strong one.
+
+He plunged at once into the purpose of his visit.
+
+"I guess you know I'm Whittington's father. I've just been over to
+Principal Blodgett's, having a talk about Percy. I don't need to tell
+you how he's spent his year here, so I'll come right to the point."
+
+He leaned forward and fastened his keen eyes on Spurling.
+
+"The principal says you plan to spend the summer fishing from an island
+on the Maine coast. I want Percy to go with you."
+
+The three exchanged glances of amazement. Lane swallowed a grin. Nobody
+spoke for a half-minute; then Spurling broke the silence.
+
+"I don't want to hurt your feelings, Mr. Whittington, but, honestly, the
+thing isn't possible. That island is ten miles from the nearest other
+land. We're not out for a pleasure junket, but for three months of the
+hardest kind of hard work. There'll be no automobiling, no pool or cards
+or moving pictures. It means being up at midnight, and not getting to
+bed until the fish have been taken care of. It means sore fingers and
+lame backs and aching joints. It means standing wind and cold and fog
+and rain until you're tired and wet and chilled to the bone. It's a
+dead-earnest business out there, one hundred days of it, and every day
+has got to count. A college year for the three of us hangs on this
+summer, and we can't risk having it spoiled. You'll have to think up
+some other place for Percy."
+
+Mr. Whittington's chin set a trifle more firmly. He pulled out his
+cigar-case and proffered it to each of the boys in turn.
+
+"Have a perfecto? No? Guess it's as well for you not to, after all. Wish
+Percy was taken that way. Excuse me if I light up. I can talk better."
+
+Soon he was smoking hard.
+
+"I want to have a little talk with you about my boy. Come, now, just
+between ourselves, what kind of a fellow is he? You probably know him
+better than I do. I've had my business; and he's been under tutors and
+away at school so long that I haven't seen much of him since his mother
+died, eight years ago."
+
+The boys glanced at one another and hesitated. Young Whittington was a
+hard topic to discuss before his father. The millionaire misunderstood
+their silence. His face grew gloomy.
+
+"Oh, well, if he's as bad as all that, no matter! I hoped he might have
+_some_ good points."
+
+"Don't misunderstand us, Mr. Whittington," said Spurling, quietly.
+"Percy isn't a bad fellow. He isn't dishonest. He doesn't cheat or crib.
+He's flunked honestly, and that counts for something. He's a good
+sprinter, and plays a rattling game of tennis, and he'd be a very fair
+baseball-player if he'd only let cigarettes alone. But he's soft and
+he's lazy. He's had too much money and taken things too easy. He's
+probably never earned a single cent or done a stroke of real work in his
+life. He's been in the habit of letting his pocketbook take the place of
+his brain and muscles; and he's got the idea that a check, if it's only
+large enough, can buy anything on earth. That's why he wouldn't be any
+good to himself or anybody else out on Tarpaulin Island. He'd simply be
+underfoot. It'd be cruel to take him there. Excuse me if I hurt your
+feelings. You've asked a straight question, and I've tried to give you a
+straight answer."
+
+The man chewed the butt of his cigar for a few seconds. Then he removed
+it from his mouth and blew a smoke-ring.
+
+"I don't believe," he said, reflectively, "that either of you three had
+any tougher time than I had when I was a boy. No school after fourteen.
+No college. Just work, work, work, and then some more work. But it
+hardened me up, made a man of me; perhaps it hardened me too much.
+Guess some of the men I've done business with have thought so. After I
+made my first million--"
+
+He broke off abruptly.
+
+"But let's get back to Percy. I've done everything in the world for that
+boy, and now I'm at the end of my rope. Tutors, private schools, summer
+camps, trainers, travel, automobiles--and what have they all amounted
+to?"
+
+He talked rapidly and nervously, emphasizing with his cigar.
+
+"It's no use to offer him any prize; he's had everything already. I
+found he was hitting too rapid a pace in the bigger schools, so I sent
+him down here. Thought he might do better in a quiet place. But his
+reports didn't show it, and the talk I've just had with the principal
+has pretty near discouraged me. I've bucked up against a good many tough
+propositions, but I'm free to say that he's the toughest. I don't see
+where he ever got that cigarette habit. I never smoked one in my life."
+
+Again he began puffing furiously.
+
+"He ought to have the stuff in him somewhere; and I believe a summer
+with you fellows'd bring it out. If it didn't, I don't know what would.
+Come, boys! Strain a point to oblige me! I'll pay you anything in
+reason. How large a check shall I write?"
+
+He reached for his inside pocket. Spurling flushed and held up his hand.
+
+"No, Mr. Whittington," said he, decidedly, "we can't do business that
+way. We're not running any reform school and we're not asking anybody to
+give us a cent. We're going out there to earn money for our first year
+in college, and we're going to take it out of the sea, every last
+copper! I don't say it to boast, but since I was ten I've had to shift
+for myself. I know where every cent in my pocket and every ounce of
+muscle on my body has come from. If Percy should go with us he'd have to
+take his medicine with the rest of us and pay his own way by working.
+Give us a little time alone to talk the matter over, and we'll soon tell
+you whether he can go or not."
+
+Whittington heaved his square bulk erect and crushed on his hat.
+
+"I'll be back in ten minutes."
+
+Almost to the second he was at the door again. Stepping inside, he
+awaited their verdict, not trying to conceal his anxiety. A great relief
+overspread his face at Spurling's first words.
+
+"All right, Mr. Whittington! Percy can come--on trial. He can stop with
+us a month. Then if we don't hitch together he'll have to leave. But if
+he likes it, and we like him, he can stay the rest of the summer. If the
+bunch earns anything over and above what it would have gotten if he
+hadn't been with us, he'll get it. If it doesn't, he won't."
+
+Five minutes later the millionaire entered Percy's room. The latter was
+smoking a cigarette and playing solitaire. He glanced up expectantly, a
+couple of cards in his hand. As he sat down opposite his son, John
+Whittington had never looked grimmer. The vein swelled blue on his
+flushed temples, and the lines on his face were deeply drawn.
+
+"Now, Percy, you and I are going to talk business. Put down those cards
+and chuck that coffin-nail into the stove. Why can't you use a man's
+smoke if you're going to smoke at all? I've been talking with Mr.
+Blodgett, and I find it's the same old story. You've wound up your
+preparatory course with a worse smash than you had this afternoon. You
+haven't made good. I'm beginning to doubt if you _can_ make good. You've
+done worse every year. You're nothing now, and if you keep on like this
+you'll soon be worse than nothing. You can put down one thing good and
+solid--I won't stand for your going the pace like Chauncey Pike or
+George Brimmer's son. I'd give half my money--yes, the whole of it, if
+you had the stuff in you that young Spurling has. I mean it."
+
+He stopped, then began again:
+
+"I'm going to give you one chance more, and only one. It's quicksilver,
+kill or cure, and a stiff dose at that. I've just been talking with
+Spurling and his two friends. They're to spend the summer fishing from
+an island off the Maine coast, to earn money to start their college
+course. And you're going with them!"
+
+"What! Me! I rather guess not! Nailed to the mast three months out on a
+rock like that? Not for a minute! Besides, I'm booked for Bar Harbor day
+after to-morrow. Got my ticket already."
+
+"Let's look at it!"
+
+Percy pulled out the slip of pasteboard and passed it over.
+
+His father thrust it into his pocket.
+
+"I can get the money on it. The agent'll take it back."
+
+"But I don't want him to take it back."
+
+"_I_ do."
+
+The bulldog jaws clamped together.
+
+"Oh, I say, Dad! Come, now! That isn't using me right!"
+
+"Isn't using you right? Why not? Don't be a fool, Percy! Whose money
+bought that ticket?"
+
+"Mi-- Why--er--yours, of course!"
+
+"Well, will you go to the island?"
+
+"No, I will not."
+
+"Then you don't get a cent more from me. You've overdrawn your
+bank-account already."
+
+"How do you know? You haven't been down to the bank."
+
+"You don't suppose I'd have a monthly check deposited to your account
+without arranging to know something about it, do you? Mighty poor
+business man if I did! Now, Percy, use what little brain you have!
+You've no money, and you can't earn any. Nobody would be fool enough to
+hire you. There's nothing on earth you can do. I'm going to give you one
+last chance to make a man of yourself. You've three months to make good
+in and I expect you to do it. You've got to make up those conditions and
+earn your salt to show there's some excuse for your being alive. Your
+whole life hangs on the way you spend the next hundred days. I start for
+the West Coast to-morrow, and won't be back till fall. I want you to
+write me--if you feel like it. Will you go?"
+
+The strains of a violin came floating in through the open window. The
+academy bell struck ten long, lingering strokes.
+
+"Well, what do you say? I'm waiting."
+
+Percy swallowed hard.
+
+"I'll go."
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+A FRESH START
+
+
+Two mornings later Percy Whittington was awakened in his room at the
+Thorndike in Rockland by a bell-boy hammering on his door.
+
+"What's the matter?" he inquired, stupidly.
+
+"Five o'clock! Five o'clock! Your call!"
+
+"Is that all?" exclaimed Percy, relieved. "I didn't know but the hotel
+might be on fire."
+
+He rolled over for another nap. Half an hour later he was roused by a
+lively tattoo beaten on the panels by two sets of vigorous knuckles.
+
+"Inside there, Whittington!" exhorted Lane's voice. "Wake up! This isn't
+any rest-cure. The Stonington boat starts in twenty minutes. You've lost
+your breakfast, and unless you hustle you'll make us miss the steamer.
+Better let us in to help you pack!"
+
+Percy bounded out of bed and admitted Lane and Spurling. While he
+dressed hastily they jammed his scattered belongings into two
+suit-cases. Stevens joined them in the hotel office and they made a
+lively spurt for Tillson's Wharf, reaching the _Governor Bodwell_ just
+before her plank was pulled aboard.
+
+The party had arrived in Rockland on the late train the night before,
+and were to start for Stonington early that morning. Percy's drowsiness
+had almost thwarted their plans.
+
+"You'll have to revise your sleeping schedule, Whittington, when we get
+to Tarpaulin," said Spurling.
+
+Percy was too much interested in the view opening before him to take
+offense at this remark.
+
+It was a calm, beautiful June morning. A gentle breeze barely rippled
+the smooth, blue water as the _Governor Bodwell_ headed eastward out of
+the harbor. Behind lay the city, fringed with lazily smoking lime-kilns,
+each contributing its quota to the dim haze that obscured the
+shore-line. Leaving on their left the little light on the tip of the
+long granite breakwater, and presently on their right the white tower on
+the hummock of Owl's Head, marking the entrance of rocky Muscle Ridge
+Channel, they were soon plowing across the blue floor of West Penobscot
+Bay. Due north, Rockport Harbor opened between wooded shores, while
+beyond it rose the Camden Hills, monarchs of the rolling line of
+mountains stretching up toward Belfast.
+
+A five-mile sail, and they were threading their way through narrow,
+winding Fox Island Thoroughfare, to the wharf at North Haven. Thence
+across East Penobscot Bay, by Deer Island Thoroughfare, to the granite
+wharf at Stonington, the rockiest town in the United States. Here they
+disembarked, and a short walk up a side-street brought them to the house
+of Spurling's uncle, Mr. Thomas Sprowl.
+
+Uncle Tom was at home, confined by his rheumatism and the doctor's
+orders. He greeted the boys gladly.
+
+"Got your letter last night, Jim," said he, "and I can tell you it took
+a weight off my mind. Since I've been sick I've nigh fretted myself to
+death about Tarpaulin."
+
+He groaned, and shifted himself painfully in his chair.
+
+"Those twinges take me unexpected," he explained. "You see," returning
+to his subject, "all my gear's on the island, besides those fifty sheep.
+Quite a risk for a man with so little as I've got. You don't know how
+pleased I am that you fellows are going to be on deck there this summer.
+You're a good, husky lot--at least most of ye." He scanned Percy a
+trifle dubiously. "You'll have a fine time the next three months, and
+you'll make some money. Wish I could go down with ye!"
+
+He winced and stifled another groan.
+
+"When do you plan to start?"
+
+"Just as soon as we can arrange for our boats and stores," replied Jim.
+
+"Good enough! You can be there to-night, slick as a whistle. Remember
+the _Barracouta_, that old power-sloop we've taken so many trips in?
+I've had her overhauled this spring and a new seven-and-a-half-horse
+engine put in her; her jibs and mainsail are in first-class shape.
+You'll find her at my mooring near the steamboat wharf. My Bucksport
+dory has just been pulled up on the ledges and painted. You'll need
+another boat besides, so I've arranged with Sammy Stinson to let you
+have his pea-pod. She'll do to lobster in. Now as to gear. You'll find
+over a hundred lobster-traps piled up on the sea-wall near my cabin, and
+there's six tubs of trawl in the fish-shed. Keep an account of whatever
+stuff you have to buy for repairs, and we can settle at the end of the
+season."
+
+"What's the best way of handling our catch?"
+
+"The fish you can split and salt and take over to Matinicus once a week.
+Your lobsters will sell easy to some smackman. Captain Ben Higgins comes
+east from Portland every week in the _Calista_; he's been in the habit
+of making Tarpaulin his next port of call after York Island. You'll find
+him square as a brick. Better buy your supplies at Matinicus; it's a
+strong twelve miles off, but that isn't a bad run in decent weather."
+
+The boys rose to go.
+
+"Well, Uncle Tom," said Jim, "the next time we see each other, I hope
+you'll be feeling fit as a fiddle."
+
+"You can't wish that any harder than I do, my boy. Oh, by the way, I
+nearly forgot one thing. Here, Nemo!"
+
+A fox-terrier, lying on a rug, sprang up alertly. He was white, except
+for two brown ears and a diamond of the same color on the top of his
+head.
+
+"Better take this dog along. The mate of a St. John coaster gave him to
+me last fall. I call him Captain Nemo. He's death on rats; and there's
+some on the island this year. Must have come ashore from a schooner
+wrecked there in the winter. Another thing! Got any gun?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then there's my ten-gauge." He indicated a double-barreled shot-gun
+standing in the corner. "You'll find a couple of boxes of loaded shells
+in that table drawer. You may want to kill some ducks in the fall. Only
+don't shoot Oso!"
+
+"Oso?"
+
+"Yes. My tame crow. I had a Spanish fellow with me a few weeks last
+summer, and he found the bird in a nest. Clipped one wing, so he
+couldn't get away from the island. Named him 'Oso'; said it meant 'The
+Bear.' He'll pester ye to death round the fish-house, after he gets
+acquainted."
+
+Putting Nemo on a leash and taking the gun, the boys filed out. Uncle
+Tom called Jim back.
+
+"I almost forgot to tell you to go to Parker's for your outfit. He'll
+use you right. Who's that pale-faced fellow with the tow head?"
+
+Spurling told him briefly about Percy. Uncle Tom grunted.
+
+"Needs salting, doesn't he? Well, he'll get it out there."
+
+Down in Parker's general store on the main street the boys purchased
+their supplies. They laid in a generous stock of provisions of all
+sorts, and under Jim's expert direction reinforced the weak spots in
+their wardrobes to adapt them to the demands of the next three months.
+Oil-clothes, heavy under-clothing, hip boots of red rubber, white,
+doughnut-shaped woolen "nippers" for pulling trawls, and various other
+articles for convenience and comfort were added to their outfits.
+
+Percy regarded it all in the light of a huge lark. Dressing himself in
+oilskins and rubber boots, he paraded up and down the store, much to the
+proprietor's disgust.
+
+"Pretty fresh, isn't he?" remarked Parker to Jim. "After he's been out
+in two or three storms he'll find those clothes aren't so much of a
+joke."
+
+The party's purchases were sent down to the steamboat wharf, to be added
+to the baggage already there. The boys followed, Percy swaggering
+superciliously along after the others, with his eternal cigarette.
+
+Captain Nemo, towing behind Spurling on his leash, got in Percy's way,
+and the boy stepped on his foot. Nemo yelped, then growled and bristled.
+
+"Get out, you cur!" exclaimed Percy, launching a kick at the beast.
+
+"Easy, Whittington!" warned Spurling. "A dog doesn't forget. You don't
+want to make an enemy of him at the start."
+
+"Enemy?" sneered Percy. "What do I care for that mangy cur! It'll teach
+him to keep out of my way."
+
+Jim bit his lip, but said nothing. In a few minutes they were on the
+wharf.
+
+A wiry, dark-complexioned lad of perhaps fifteen stood near the
+steamboat slip. He wore a faded suit of blue serge, a gray-flannel shirt
+with red necker-chief, and a soft black hat. His olive face and black
+eyes bespoke the Italian. Spurling and the others glanced at him
+casually; their interest was centered on assembling and loading their
+flotilla.
+
+"There's the _Barracouta!_" said Jim, pointing to a sloop moored a
+hundred yards away. "And there's Stinson's pea-pod tied to her stern.
+That yellow dory up on the ledge must be Uncle Tom's. He said we'd find
+her oars and fittings at Haskell's boatshop."
+
+Soon pea-pod and dory were being loaded beside the wharf. The young
+Italian had come to the string-piece, and was watching the embarkation.
+Jim saw that tears were trickling down his cheeks.
+
+"What's the matter?" he asked.
+
+The boy turned away, his breast heaving. Jim tossed the painter to Lane.
+
+"Look out for the boat a minute, Budge! I want to find what the trouble
+is with that young fellow."
+
+The lad had stepped across the wharf and was gazing sadly down into the
+water. Jim touched his shoulder.
+
+"Don't you feel well, son?"
+
+The kindly words had a surprising effect--the lad burst into tears. Jim
+tried to soothe him.
+
+"There, there! It can't be so bad as all that! Tell me about it."
+
+Little by little the boy's story came out. He was a Sicilian from a
+little village (_un villaggio_) not far from Messina. His name was
+Filippo Canamelli. His father was a mason (_un muratore_). Filippo and
+his older brother Frank had decided to seek their fortunes in America.
+Frank had gone over the year before, promising to send money back to pay
+for Filippo's passage. He had done so that winter, in _Febbrajo_.
+Filippo had sailed from Naples the next month, and had landed in New
+York in April. There he chanced upon a friend with whom his brother had
+left word for him to come to a certain address in Boston. But in that
+city he had lost all track of Frank. Searching aimlessly for him, he had
+drifted down to Stonington and had gone to work in the granite quarries.
+But he found the labor too hard and he was desperately homesick. He had
+given up his job the day before. What he should do and where he should
+go next he did not know. He talked rapidly between his sobs, while Jim
+listened.
+
+When he had finished, Spurling stepped across the wharf to his waiting
+friends. Very briefly he rehearsed the Italian's story.
+
+"Boys," he concluded, "what do you say to asking him to come down with
+us to Tarpaulin? I believe he's a clean, straight little fellow, and he
+can more than make up for his board by cooking and doing odd jobs. We
+can afford to pay him something to boot."
+
+Before either Budge or Throppy had a chance to express an opinion Percy
+spoke out decidedly:
+
+"Take that little Dago with us? I say no. You can't trust his kind. I
+know 'em. They're a thieving, treacherous lot, smooth to your face, but
+ready to stab you the minute your back's turned. I'll bet you a
+five-dollar bill he's got a knife hid somewhere about him. He might take
+a notion some night to cut all our throats."
+
+"Whittington," said Spurling, bluntly, "under the circumstances it might
+be better taste for you not to speak until you've heard from the rest of
+us. My throat's worth just as much to me as yours is to you, and I don't
+feel I'd be running any great risk by inviting that boy to come along
+with us."
+
+Lane and Stevens agreed.
+
+"It's three against one, Whittington," said Jim.
+
+He walked over to the Italian and said a few words to him. The lad's
+face lighted up with gratitude. Impulsively he bent and kissed
+Spurling's hand. Jim flushed with embarrassment as he and the stranger
+came back to the others.
+
+"He'll be glad to go with us, fellows. Now let's get a move on and
+hustle this stuff aboard. We want to be settled at Tarpaulin before
+dark."
+
+Soon all their goods were on the sloop. The dory was made fast to her
+stern and the pea-pod's painter tied to the dory. The expedition was
+ready to start. On board the _Barracouta_ Lane and Stevens, standing
+side by side, faced Jim and brought their palms to their foreheads.
+
+"Attention!" ordered Lane. "Spurling & Company! Salute!"
+
+Jim returned the compliment with a sweep of his hand. He threw on the
+switch and rocked the wheel; the engine started--click-click-click....
+Gathering headway, the _Barracouta_ nosed south, dory and pea-pod
+trailing behind her. Before them lay an archipelago of granite islands.
+
+"This is an old stamping-ground of mine," said Jim. "I've fished and
+lobstered round here so much that I know every rock and shoal for miles.
+That's Crotch Island on our west, with the derricks and quarries;
+they've taken no end of granite off it."
+
+He held up his hand.
+
+"Breezing up from the southwest. That'd be dead ahead if we went west of
+Isle au Haut as I'd planned. Guess we'll go east of it; then we can use
+our canvas to help us along. Steer for me, Budge, while I get sail on
+her!"
+
+Soon outer jib, jumbo and mainsail were set and trimmed close, and
+Spurling again took the helm. The _Barracouta_ ran southeast through
+Merchant's Row, a procession of rugged islets slipping by on either
+side; then south past Fog and York islands, with the long, high ridge of
+Isle au Haut walling the western horizon; down between Great Spoon and
+Little Spoon, past White Horse and Black Horse, toward the heaving blue
+of the open ocean.
+
+A grum, melancholy note came floating over the long sea
+swells--Oo-oo-oo-ooh! And again, Oo-oo-oo-ooh!
+
+"What's that!" exclaimed Percy.
+
+"Whistling buoy south of Roaring Bull Ledge. One of our nearest
+neighbors. We'll hear that voice pretty often, when the wind's from the
+north."
+
+They passed two miles east of the whistler, and gradually its warning
+blast grew fainter and fainter. On the horizon straight ahead a little
+black mound was slowly rising above the breaking waves. Jim swung his
+hand toward it.
+
+"There's Tarpaulin! Our home for the next three months! Looks kind of
+small and lonesome when you're running offshore for it; but it's pretty
+good to make after an all-day fishing-trip. What's the matter,
+Whittington?"
+
+Percy's face was somewhat white; for the last half-hour he had been
+strangely subdued.
+
+"I don't feel very good," said he.
+
+Spurling eyed him critically, then scanned the faces of the others. The
+_Barracouta_ was rising and falling on the long swells in a manner
+decidedly disconcerting to weak stomachs. Stevens and the young Italian
+did not look much happier than Percy. Jim could not help smiling a
+little.
+
+"Good seasick weather!" he observed, judicially. "Excuse me for
+laughing, boys! It's a mean thing to do, but I can't help it. I've been
+there myself--years ago. You'll be worse before you're better."
+
+They were, considerably, all three, Percy in particular. For the next
+hour conversation dragged; but all the while Tarpaulin loomed larger and
+larger. To Jim it wore the aspect of an old friend, and he dilated on
+its features for the benefit of the others.
+
+"You see that western end is fifty acres of pasture, sloping north;
+those gray dots are sheep grazing. The eastern half is just scrub
+evergreen. That little cove on the northeast corner's the Sly Hole; you
+mightn't think it, but a good-sized schooner can ride there at low tide.
+Pretty rocky all round. Always a surf breaking on one side or the other.
+Our landing-place is on the south."
+
+Before long the _Barracouta_ and her tow were skirting the eastern
+ledges. Under the island it was comparatively calm, and the seasick
+three felt better. Then, as they rounded a wooded promontory and turned
+west, it grew rough again, but only for a few minutes. Spurling steered
+the sloop into calm water behind the protecting elbow of another point,
+off which lay the half-submerged hulk of a wrecked vessel.
+
+"Sprawl's Cove!" exclaimed Jim. "How do you like the looks of your
+hotel, Whittington?"
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+TARPAULIN ISLAND
+
+
+Curiosity dispelled the last vestiges of Percy's seasickness. For a
+little while he gazed without speaking.
+
+A cove four hundred feet wide opened toward the south between two rocky
+points. At its head a pebbly beach sloped up to a sea-wall, behind which
+a growth of cattails bespoke a stagnant lagoon. Still farther back a
+steep bank of dirt rose to the overhanging sod of the pasture.
+
+From the western point a spur extended into the cove, forming a little
+haven amply large enough for a modest fleet of fishing-boats. Near by on
+the sea-wall stood two structures, one low, oblong, flat-roofed, with a
+rusty iron stovepipe projecting from its farther end; the other a small,
+paintless shed with a large door. Percy gave them only a casual glance.
+
+"You said we were going to live in a camp. Where is it?"
+
+Jim pointed to the first structure.
+
+"There! It's the cabin of an old vessel that came ashore here in a
+southerly gale years ago. Uncle Tom jacked it up a foot, put in a good
+floor, and made it into a first-rate camp. It's got bunks for half a
+dozen, and at a pinch could hold more. The roof's a bit leaky, but we'll
+soon fix that. There's a good stove, and always plenty of driftwood on
+the beach. It's a mighty snug place on a stormy day."
+
+Percy turned up his nose at this list of good points.
+
+"What's that pile of chicken-coops near it?"
+
+"Lobster-traps."
+
+"And that big box with its top just above water?"
+
+"A lobster-car. All that we catch in the traps we put in there until the
+smack comes."
+
+The mooring-buoy was now alongside. Making the _Barracouta_ fast, the
+boys went ashore in the dory and pea-pod. Percy became conscious that he
+was thirsty.
+
+"Where can I get a drink?"
+
+"There's the spring at the foot of that bank."
+
+Opening a trap-door in a rude wooden cover, Percy looked down into a
+shallow well. The only cup at hand was an empty tin can. Rather
+disdainfully he dipped it full and tasted, then spat with a wry face.
+
+"It's brackish!" he called out, indignantly. "I can't drink that."
+
+Spurling and the others were hard at work unloading the boats. Percy
+repeated his complaint:
+
+"I can't drink that stuff."
+
+Jim was staggering up the beach, a heavy box of groceries in his arms.
+
+"Sorry!" he replied, indifferently. "That's what all the rest of us'll
+have to drink. It isn't Poland water, but I've tasted worse."
+
+Percy slammed down the cover and tossed away the can in a huff. Lane
+was passing boxes and bundles ashore from the dory to Stevens and
+Filippo.
+
+"Catch hold here, Whittington, and help tote some of this stuff up to
+the cabin," exhorted Budge.
+
+Percy complied ungraciously; but he was careful not to tackle anything
+very heavy.
+
+"I didn't come out here to make a pack-mule of myself," was his mental
+remark.
+
+Jim unfastened the rusty padlock on the cabin door and stepped inside.
+Percy followed him, eager to get a glimpse of his new home.
+
+The camp had not been opened for some weeks; it smelled close and
+stuffy. As Percy crossed its threshold his nostrils were greeted by a
+mingled odor of salt, tarred rope, and decaying wood, flavored with a
+faint suggestion of fish. Mastering his repugnance, he looked about.
+
+He saw a single, low room, nine by fifteen, dimly lighted by three small
+windows, one in the farther end directly opposite the door, the
+remaining two facing each other in the middle of the long sides. Along
+the right wall on each side of the central window was built a tier of
+two bunks. On Percy's left, over a wooden sink in the corner near the
+door, was a rough cupboard. Next came a small, rusty stove with an oven
+for baking; then, under the window, an unpainted table; and on the wall
+beyond, a series of hooks from which were suspended various articles of
+clothing and coils of rope. Empty soap-boxes supplied the place of
+chairs.
+
+With nose uplifted and a growing disgust on his features, Percy surveyed
+the cramped, dingy room.
+
+"How do you like it?" asked Spurling.
+
+"You don't mean to say that five of us have got to live in this hole?"
+
+"Nowhere else, unless you want to stay out on the beach or in the
+fish-house."
+
+"But where do we sleep?"
+
+"There!" Jim gestured toward the wooden framework on the right wall.
+
+Percy thrust his hand into one of the bunks.
+
+"Why, there's no mattress or spring here! It's only a bare box!"
+
+"That's just what it is, Whittington! You've hit the nail on the head
+this time. You'll have to spread your blanket on the soft side of a pine
+board. If you want something real luxurious you can go into the woods
+and cut an armful of spruce boughs to strew under you."
+
+Percy disregarded this badinage. From his view-point the situation was
+too serious for jesting. It was outrageous that he, the son of John P.
+Whittington, should be expected to shift for himself like an ordinary
+fisherman.
+
+"I'm not used to living in a pigpen!" he snapped. "This cabin's too dark
+to be healthy; besides, it isn't clean."
+
+A spark of temper flashed in Spurling's eyes.
+
+"Stop right there, Whittington! This is my uncle Tom's cabin. Any place
+that's been shut up for weeks seems stuffy when it's first opened.
+You'll find that there are things a good deal worse than salt and tar
+and fish and a few cobwebs. I want to tell you a story I read some time
+ago. Once in the winter a party of Highlanders were out on a foray.
+Night overtook them beside a river in the mountains, and they prepared
+to camp in the open. Each drenched his plaid in the stream, rolled it
+round his body, and lay down to rest in the snow, knowing that the
+outside layers of cloth would soon freeze hard and form a sleeping-bag.
+In the party were an old chieftain and his grandson of eighteen. The boy
+wet his plaid like the others, but before he lay down he rolled up a
+snowball for a pillow. The old chief kicked it out from under the lad's
+head. He didn't propose to have his grandson be so effeminate as to
+indulge himself in the luxury of a pillow when everybody else was lying
+flat on the ground."
+
+Whittington grunted. "I don't see how that applies to me."
+
+"In this way. You've lived too soft. You need something to wake you up
+to the real hardships that men have to go through. Then you won't be so
+fussy over little things. Perhaps I've talked plainer to you than I
+should; but I believe in going after a fellow with a club before his
+face rather than a knife behind his back. Now let's open those windows
+so the fresh air can blow through, build a fire in the stove to dry out
+the damp, and get everything shipshape. After supper we'll go up on top
+of the island and take a look about."
+
+It was nearly seven when the sloop was finally unloaded and everything
+stowed under cover. Filippo had collected plenty of driftwood, and a
+fire crackling merrily in the rusty stove soon made the cabin dry and
+warm.
+
+Jim, in his shirt-sleeves, superintended the preparation of supper. The
+wall cupboard yielded a supply of ordinary dishes, cups, and saucers.
+There were old-fashioned iron knives and forks, iron spoons of
+different sizes, and thick, yellow, earthenware mugs. Despite Percy's
+slur, everything was clean.
+
+"Make us a pan of biscuit, Budge; and I'll fry some potatoes and broil
+the steak," volunteered Jim. "After to-night we'll have to break in
+somebody else to do the cooking. You and I'll be too busy outside."
+
+Percy heard and registered a silent vow that the cook should not be
+himself. Pricked by Spurling's earlier remarks, he had taken an active
+part in unloading the boats, and he had been glad to throw himself into
+one of the despised bunks to rest.
+
+At last supper was ready. The steak, potatoes, and hot biscuit diffused
+a pleasant aroma through the cabin.
+
+"Pull up your soap-boxes, all hands!" invited Spurling. "Don't be afraid
+of that steak! There's plenty of it for everybody. It's liable to be the
+last meat we'll have for some time. The butcher doesn't go by here very
+often."
+
+The boys made a hearty meal. Even Percy's fastidiousness did not prevent
+him from eating his full share. But he took no part in the jokes flying
+round the table. Jim's sermon had left him rather glum. Lane noticed it.
+
+"Why so distant, Whittington?" he inquired.
+
+Before Percy could open his mouth to reply a black body shot with a
+squawk through the open door and alighted on the corner of the table
+close to Percy's elbow.
+
+"Hullo! This must be Oso!" exclaimed Jim.
+
+The crow croaked hoarsely. On Percy's plate lay a single morsel of
+steak, the choicest of his helping, reserved till the last. Seeing the
+bird's beady black eyes fasten upon it he made a quick movement to
+impale it with his fork. But Oso was quicker still. Down darted his
+sharp beak and snatched the titbit from under the very points of the
+tines. A single gulp and the meat was gone.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A roar of laughter went round the table. Starting up furiously, Percy
+aimed a blow at the crow. But the bird eluded him and scaled out of the
+door with a triumphant screech. Budge proffered mock consolation.
+
+"Percy," said he, "that was the best piece in the whole steak. I saw you
+saving it until the last. Too bad, old man! Now you'll have to eat crow
+to get it."
+
+"I'll wring that thief's neck if I can catch him," vowed the angry
+Whittington.
+
+"Guess we can trust Oso not to leave his neck lying round where you can
+get hold of it," observed Lane. "Come on! Let's you and I wash the
+dishes!"
+
+"Dishes nothing!" snarled Percy.
+
+Stalking out, he gathered a handful of convenient pebbles and lay in
+wait for the culprit. But the crow had disappeared.
+
+"I'll get even with him later," muttered Whittington.
+
+He remained sulkily outside, taking no part in clearing away the
+supper-table. At half past seven the others joined him.
+
+"Feeling better, old man?" queried Lane, solicitously.
+
+"Fall in, Whittington," said Jim. "We're going on a tour of inspection."
+
+"Wait a minute," remarked Lane. "We've had our house-warming. The next
+thing is to christen the place."
+
+Dragging out a soap-box, he mounted it, produced from his pocket a piece
+of red chalk, and traced in large letters over the door, "CAMP
+SPURLING."
+
+"Now we're off!" said he. "Welcome to our city! Watch us grow!"
+
+"Come on!" urged Jim. "We want to look the island over before dark."
+
+The party walked west along the sea-wall and proceeded in single file up
+a steep path to the highest part of the promontory.
+
+"Brimstone Point," said Jim. "Best view on the island from here."
+
+He began pointing out its different features.
+
+"That little nubble almost west, sticking up so black against the
+sunset's Seal Island. Matinicus is right behind it. Up there on the
+horizon, just a trifle west of north, are the Camden Hills; you look
+exactly over Vinalhaven to see them. North across the pasture is Isle au
+Haut that we came by this afternoon. Beyond is Stonington. About time
+the lights were lit--Yes, there's Saddleback! See it twinkling west of
+Isle au Haut. Now look sharp a little south of west and you'll see
+Matinicus Rock glimmering; two lights, but they seem like one from here.
+Wouldn't think they were almost a hundred feet above water, would you?
+They look pretty good to a man when he's running in from outside on a
+dark night."
+
+It was a magnificent evening, the air clear as crystal, the sky without
+a cloud. Gulls were wheeling and screaming about the promontory, their
+cries mingling with the rote of surf at its base. Sheep bleated from the
+pasture. A hawk sailed slowly in from the ocean and disappeared in the
+woods behind the eastern point. From under the boys' feet rose the
+fragrance of sweet grass and pennyroyal. Tall mullein stalks reared
+their spires on the hillside; and here and there were little plats white
+with thick strawberry blossoms.
+
+The boys gazed their fill. Gradually the red sky darkened and the stars
+began to come out. Saddleback and Matinicus Rock gleamed more brightly.
+A cool breeze from the south sprang up. Jim roused himself.
+
+"Guess we won't have time to look about any more to-night. Never mind!
+There are evenings enough ahead of us before September. One thing out
+here--no matter how hot the day may be, it's always cool after dark.
+Let's be getting back to camp!"
+
+Two small kerosene-lamps from the cupboard made the cabin seem actually
+cheerful. Percy dug into one of his suit-cases and produced a pack of
+cards.
+
+"Let's have a game, fellows! What shall it be?"
+
+"Might as well put those up, Whittington," said Spurling. "We're going
+to turn in as soon as we get things arranged. We've a busy to-morrow
+before us."
+
+Somewhat disappointed, Percy put the cards back. Taking four wooden
+toothpicks, Jim broke them into uneven lengths. He grasped them in his
+right hand so that the tops formed a straight line.
+
+"Now we'll draw lots for bunks! Filippo's going to sleep in the hammock
+across that corner beyond the table, so he won't be in this. Longest
+stick is lower bunk next the door; second longest, lower bunk back;
+third, upper bunk near door; shortest, other upper. Draw, Throppy!"
+
+Stevens drew; then Budge and Percy followed him. They matched sticks.
+Percy got the lower near the door, with Budge over him; while Spurling
+drew the back lower, and Stevens the one above that.
+
+"Percy and I are the lucky ones," said Jim. "We can try this a month,
+then have a shake-up to give you top men a chance nearer the floor."
+
+Percy pulled out his wrappers and tobacco. Spurling nipped his
+preparations in the bud.
+
+"No cigarettes in here!"
+
+"Can't I smoke just one?"
+
+"Not inside this cabin. It's too close. We might as well make that a
+permanent rule."
+
+"All right! You're the doctor! But I thought it might help kill this
+smell of tarred rope."
+
+"I like the tarred rope better than I do the cigarettes."
+
+Percy went outside and burned his coffin-nail unsociably. When he came
+back the cabin was shipshape for the night. Jim was setting the
+alarm-clock. Percy, watching him, thought he detected a mistake.
+
+"You've got the V on the wrong side of the I," he said. "IV doesn't
+stand for six."
+
+"But I didn't mean six," retorted Spurling. "I meant four. Now you see
+why we haven't any time for card-playing. And as soon as we're really at
+work we'll be getting up a good deal earlier than that. Turn in,
+fellows!"
+
+He extinguished one of the small lamps.
+
+"You can put out the other one, when you're ready," said he as he crept
+into his bunk.
+
+Following the example of his associates, Percy draped his clothing over
+his soap-box and the lower end of his bunk, then blew out the lamp and
+turned in, barking his shins as he did so. He found his couch anything
+but comfortable. A single blanket between one's body and a board does
+not make the board much softer. Neither is a tightly rolled sweater an
+exact equivalent for a feather pillow. Further, the comforter over him
+was none too warm, as two windows, opened for ventilation, allowed the
+cool ocean breeze to circulate freely through the cabin. They also
+admitted numerous mosquitoes, which sung and stung industriously.
+
+The hours of darkness dragged on miserably. Percy dozed and woke, only
+to doze and wake again. An occasional creaking board or muttered
+exclamation told that, like himself, his mates were not finding their
+first night one of unalloyed comfort.
+
+Bare feet struck the floor. A match scraped, and Percy saw Jim gazing at
+the alarm-clock.
+
+"What time is it?" groaned Budge from above.
+
+"Only ten minutes to twelve."
+
+"Gee! I wish it was morning."
+
+"Me too!" complained Stevens from the darkness aloft.
+
+Percy echoed the wish, silently but fervently. And then in an instant
+all their discomfort was forgotten. Bursting through the open window, a
+sudden sound shattered the midnight stillness.
+
+_Spang!_
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+MIDNIGHT MARAUDERS
+
+
+There was no mistaking that sharp, whip-like report. It was the crack of
+a revolver!
+
+Breaking the silence at a time when they had felt certain that the
+nearest human being was miles away, the sound had a startling effect on
+the five boys. Not one but felt a thrill of apprehension, almost of
+dread. Who besides themselves was astir at so late an hour on that
+lonely island? Why? The weapon that produced the report must have been
+aimed at something. What? For a moment they remained silent, breathless.
+
+_Spang!_
+
+A second shot, distant but distinct, rang out from beyond the brow of
+the bank behind the cabin. Spurling sprang from his bunk.
+
+"Boys!" he shouted. "Somebody's after those sheep! Turn out!"
+
+Hurriedly he began dressing. The other four followed his example,
+fumbling with clumsy fingers in the darkness. Nemo gave a short, sharp
+bark.
+
+"Quiet, boy!" ordered Jim; and the dog subsided, growling.
+
+Percy experienced a peculiar shakiness; but he dressed with the others.
+Out here were no policemen or other officers to enforce the laws.
+Whatever was done they must do themselves.
+
+Jim, his first excitement over, was cool as usual.
+
+"All dressed, fellows?" he inquired, as calmly as if the pursuit of
+midnight thieves was a common incident.
+
+Everybody was ready.
+
+"Going to take the dog?" asked Throppy.
+
+"No! Leave him here! He might bark when we didn't want him to."
+
+"Here's the gun!" volunteered Lane.
+
+"Don't want it! If we had it with us, we might lose our heads and shoot
+somebody. Whoever they are, they haven't the least idea there's any one
+on the island besides themselves. They've probably landed at the Sly
+Hole from some vessel that's approached the north shore since it came
+dark. Hungry for a little lamb or mutton! But those sheep have stood
+Uncle Tom a good many dollars and he can't afford to lose any of 'em.
+Where's that flash-light?"
+
+"Here 'tis!" said Budge, passing him the electric lantern.
+
+Jim snapped it quickly on and off again.
+
+"Righto!" was his verdict. "All ready? Then come on! But first tie that
+dog to the stove-leg, so he won't bolt out the second we open the door."
+
+Throppy fastened Nemo.
+
+"Quiet now!" cautioned Jim.
+
+He opened the door carefully, and the five filed out into damp, cool,
+midnight air.
+
+Stars filled the sky. A gentle wind was blowing from the southwest.
+Nothing broke the stillness save the low murmur of the sea on the
+ledges. Without hesitation Jim led his party at a dog-trot eastward
+along the beach. When he reached the rocks he halted.
+
+"We'll go straight across to the Sly Hole," he said. "I know a short cut
+through the woods. Either they've killed a sheep already and are
+carrying it down to their boat or they've frightened the animals so that
+it'll take some time to get near enough to 'em again to shoot. What
+sticks me is why they don't use a shot-gun instead of a revolver. Now,
+boys! Right up over the rocks!"
+
+It was a rough climb, but soon they were on the top of the bluff.
+Unerringly Jim led them to the entrance of a narrow trail penetrating
+the scrubby growth.
+
+"Look out for your eyes! Don't follow too close!"
+
+The pliant, whipping branches emphasized his caution. By the time the
+party gained the north shore their hands and faces were badly scratched.
+
+The little basin of the Sly Hole lay below. Looking down, they could
+make out a dark object at the water's edge.
+
+"There's their boat!" whispered Jim. "They're still on the island."
+
+_Spang!_
+
+Another report from the pasture beyond the evergreens echoed emphatic
+confirmation to his statement. Jim took two steps toward the sound, then
+stopped.
+
+"Not yet! I know a better way. Stay here and keep watch."
+
+He scrambled down to the beach. There was a slight grating of gravel,
+and presently the boat was afloat. Noiselessly, under Spurling's skilful
+sculling, it slipped out of the cove and vanished behind the ledges to
+the east. Before long Jim was back with his companions.
+
+"I've made their dory fast in a little gulch among the rockweed," said
+he. "They'd have a hard time to find it unless somebody told 'em where
+it is. They can't get away without having a reckoning with us."
+
+_Spang-spang-spang!_
+
+Three reports in quick succession. Jim laughed.
+
+"Wasting a lot of cartridges! Must want that mutton pretty bad! Either
+they're awful poor shots or they've made the sheep so wild they can't
+get anywhere near 'em. There's their vessel!"
+
+The boys' eyes followed his pointing finger. Not far offshore were the
+vague outlines of a schooner.
+
+"All black!" said Jim. "Not a light of any sort! That looks bad. Besides
+being against the law, it shows there's some reason why they don't want
+to be recognized. I don't know what kind of scalawags we're up against,
+but we've got to be mighty careful."
+
+Percy felt a strange sinking at the pit of his stomach. To be plunged
+into an encounter with a gang of unknown ruffians on his first night
+offshore was more than he had bargained for. For a minute Jim stood
+thinking.
+
+"I'm almost sorry we didn't take that shot-gun!" he muttered. "No, I'm
+not, either! We might be tempted to use it, and that'd be worse than
+losing every sheep on the island. Hold on! I've got an idea."
+
+The boys gathered closely round him.
+
+"Listen!" he whispered. "Budge and I will go ahead through the woods to
+the pasture. You three follow close behind. If there's any shooting,
+throw yourselves flat. No use taking chances with such fellows as
+those!"
+
+Crouching low, sometimes actually creeping, the party, Jim and Lane in
+the lead, made their way under the close boughs toward the open.
+Suddenly Jim sank to the ground. Warned by his whisper, the others did
+the same.
+
+Footsteps were approaching. Then voices in heated argument reached their
+ears.
+
+"Aw, come on, Cap!" expostulated one unseen speaker. "What's the use
+chasin' round over this pasture all night? Here we've wasted an hour
+already. I've fired away all my cartridges, and we haven't nailed a
+single bleater. We've got 'em so wild we can't sneak up within half a
+mile of 'em. Let's quit it for a bad job, go aboard, and turn in!"
+
+"Cut it out, Dolph!" impatiently retorted another voice. "You've got a
+backbone like a rope! Guess if you were footing the grub bill aboard the
+_Silicon_ you wouldn't be so fussy about being broken of your beauty
+sleep. I've paid out all the good dollars for stores that I intend to on
+this trip. You know we've plenty of ice aboard, and a couple of these
+sheep'll furnish enough fresh meat to last us to the Bay of Fundy and
+back. That ought to hit you in a tender spot. You're always the first
+man down at the table and the last to leave it."
+
+"You needn't twit me on my appetite, Bart Brittler!" exclaimed the
+other, angrily. "If you weren't so stingy with the grub on board your
+old catamaran I wouldn't be hungry all the time. A man who makes as much
+money as you do, runnin' in--"
+
+"Stop right there! You know there's some things that were never to be
+mentioned."
+
+"What's the harm? There's nobody within miles!"
+
+"That may be. But we can't be too careful in our business. Now what
+about the sheep?"
+
+"I'll stop here half an hour longer. Then I'm goin' aboard."
+
+"Well, I'll tell you what we'll do. You hide in the edge of the woods,
+and I'll make a circuit and drive 'em down to you. Here, take these
+cartridges and my revolver! That'll give you two to work with. You'll
+have to shoot quick when they come."
+
+There was a sound of breaking branches. The boys flattened themselves on
+the carpet of needles as a man's body crashed toward them through the
+underbrush.
+
+"All right!" announced Dolph. "I've found a good place, close to a
+sheep-path. Now drive down your mutton, and I'll butcher it as it goes
+by. Will two be enough?"
+
+"Sure! And that's two more than I'm afraid you'll get, unless you shoot
+straighter than we've done so far to-night. It may be twenty minutes
+before they come, for I'm going to make a wide circle to the west, so as
+to get behind 'em."
+
+The captain's footsteps died hollowly away on the turf and Dolph settled
+himself comfortably in his chosen ambush, almost within reach of Jim's
+hand. Five minutes of silence passed. Jim was debating what he should
+do. Budge lay close to him, and not far back were Throppy, Percy, and
+Filippo, hardly daring to breathe. Circumstances had placed one of the
+marauders so nearly within their grasp that a sudden, well-planned
+attack could hardly fail to make him their prisoner. But there must be
+no bungling. A man with two loaded revolvers, and desperate from panic,
+would be a dangerous customer unless he were overpowered at once.
+
+It would not do to let too much time go by. Brittler would soon be
+returning, driving the sheep ahead of him; then they would have two
+lawless men to contend with, instead of one, unless they chose to be
+quiet and tamely allow the spoilers to make off with their booty.
+
+Jim came to his decision like the snapping of the jaws of a steel trap.
+
+Reaching back, he pressed Budge's hand, as a signal for him to be ready.
+Budge returned the pressure. Dolph stirred and drew a long breath. There
+was a moment of suspense. Overhead, a crow cawed harshly.
+
+Noiselessly Jim rose to his hands and knees and crept forward. The small
+twigs and needles, crackling under his weight, sounded in his ears like
+exploding fireworks. He stopped; went on again; stopped; went on again.
+How could Dolph fail to hear him coming? The distance was less than two
+yards, but to the crawling lad it seemed far longer.
+
+Now he was close behind the unconscious bandit. He straightened up,
+setting his right foot squarely on the ground. As he did so a little
+branch snapped. Dolph, startled, turned his head. Before he could lift
+a finger Jim was upon him like a panther.
+
+There was an indistinct cry of alarm.
+
+_Spang!_
+
+Off went a revolver, discharged at random, and the two were struggling
+in a confused heap under the low boughs.
+
+It was a short fight. A third figure launched itself into the mêlée.
+Though not nearly so strong as Jim, Budge alone would have been a good
+match for any average man, and the two of them together speedily
+vanquished Dolph. A firm hand was pressed over his mouth and he was
+relieved of his automatics. Finding that his captors were not disposed
+to injure him, he soon ceased his struggles.
+
+Silence again. One of the would-be plunderers and the weapons of both
+were in the boys' hands. What should they do next?
+
+"Hi! Hi! Scat, you brutes! Get a move on!"
+
+Brittler's voice shattered the midnight stillness as he came, driving
+the sheep before him. From their covert the boys could look across the
+pasture and see the black, leaping shapes fast drawing nearer. It was
+high time to prepare to meet their second foe.
+
+"Throppy, Whittington, Filippo! Come here! Quick!"
+
+They came, Percy in the rear, his knees shaking.
+
+"Budge, can the four of you handle this man if I let go?"
+
+"Easy!"
+
+"Keep his mouth shut till I tell you he can open it!"
+
+"All right!"
+
+Lane's hand replaced Jim's over Dolph's lips. The other three grasped
+him wherever they could find a chance. It would not have taken much to
+shake off Percy's trembling grip, but the prisoner was content to remain
+quiet.
+
+There was a patter of hoofs; the sheep were coming. Soon they were
+flitting by the ambush, shying off as their keen senses warned them of
+possible danger. Again they scattered toward the northwest end of the
+island. After them danced Brittler, roaring with anger.
+
+"What are you waiting for, you numskull?" he cried. "Why didn't you
+shoot? I heard you fire once some minutes ago, and thought you might
+have been aiming at a stray one. I had almost the whole flock bunched
+right before me. You couldn't get a better chance if you waited a week.
+Now I've got to waste another half-hour chasing 'em round again. What's
+the matter with you, anyway? Why don't you speak?"
+
+He was within five yards of the silent group under the spruces when
+Spurling's voice rang sharply out:
+
+"Halt there!"
+
+At the same instant he flashed the ray from his electric lantern
+straight into the captain's face.
+
+Brittler stopped short, as if struck by lightning. His jaw dropped, and
+a ludicrous look of alarm and bewilderment overspread his features.
+
+"Take your hand off his mouth, Budge," ordered Jim, "and let him tell
+the captain what's happened."
+
+Thus adjured, Dolph spoke:
+
+"I've been taken prisoner, Captain. They jumped on me in the dark and I
+had a chance to fire only one shot. I think there's at least half a
+dozen of 'em, and they've got both our revolvers, so we haven't a
+chance. That's all there is to it."
+
+Brittler had recovered from his first panic. He bristled up with
+pretended indignation.
+
+"What do you mean, whoever you are, by jumping on us this way? And take
+that light off my face! I don't like it."
+
+Spurting did not remove the steady ray from the features of the irate
+captain. He waited a moment before replying.
+
+"Captain Brittler," he said, "you and Dolph came to steal sheep, and it
+isn't your fault that you haven't been able to do it. You thought there
+was nobody on this island and that you could kill and take to suit
+yourselves. You've been caught red-handed. By good rights you ought to
+be turned over to the sheriff. We'll let you go this time, but if we
+catch you here on such an errand again you'll have a chance to tell your
+story before a jury."
+
+"How'd you come to know my name?" blustered the captain. "I s'pose
+you've been pumping that mealy-mouthed landlubber of a Dolph."
+
+"Dolph hasn't said a word till he spoke to you just now. He couldn't. I
+guess we understand each other, so you and he had better start for the
+_Silicon_. You'll find your dory in the rockweed about fifty feet east
+of the cove. I'll keep your revolvers a few days, and then mail them to
+you at the Rockland post-office. You can get 'em there. Better go now!
+Turn that man loose, Budge!"
+
+Muttering vengeance, Dolph and the captain disappeared in the direction
+of the Sly Hole. After giving them ample time to find the dory, the boys
+quietly made their way to the north shore.
+
+A boat with two men was visible, rowing out to the _Silicon_. As soon as
+it reached its destination the schooner got under way and proceeded
+eastward.
+
+"I don't like the looks of that craft," said Spurling. "There's
+something suspicious about her. Did you hear what Dolph said to the
+captain about making money? They're engaged in some kind of smuggling,
+or I'll eat my hat! But what it can be I haven't any idea. Well, we're
+lucky to be rid of 'em so easily. Guess they'll give Tarpaulin Island a
+wide berth after this. And it's dollars to doughnuts the captain never
+inquires after those revolvers at the Rockland office. I didn't feel it
+was quite safe to give 'em back to him just now, but I didn't want to
+take 'em away for good. He can do as he pleases about sending for 'em."
+
+He yawned.
+
+"It's past one, and we'd better be getting back to camp, or we won't be
+in condition for our busy day to-morrow. Come on, boys!"
+
+Slowly, and a trifle weariedly, the five made their way across the
+island. Even though the fire in the stove had gone out long since, the
+warmth of the cabin felt good to them.
+
+"Well, Whittington," remarked Spurling as they once more crept into
+their bunks, "how do you like your first night on Tarpaulin? Some life
+out here, after all, eh?"
+
+Percy had recovered his assurance. Now that the experience was over he
+rather enjoyed it.
+
+"Not so bad," he replied.
+
+Before he went to sleep he lay for some time thinking.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+GETTING READY
+
+
+A persistent metallic whirring broke rudely in upon the dreams of the
+heavy sleepers in Camp Spurling. It was four o'clock. It seemed to Percy
+as if he had never before found so much trouble in getting his eyes
+open.
+
+"Choke that clock off, somebody!" shouted Lane from overhead. "I'm not
+deaf, but I shall be if this hullabaloo keeps on much longer."
+
+Spurling, who was already half-dressed, checked the alarm. The red rays
+of the morning sun, striking through the eastern window, bathed
+everything in crimson. The minds of the boys turned naturally to the
+foiled thieves.
+
+"Where do you think the _Silicon_ is?" asked Throppy.
+
+"Twenty-five miles east, and making for Fundy as fast as sail and
+gasolene'll take her," replied Jim. "She can't go any too far or fast
+to suit me."
+
+A hearty breakfast of fried bacon, hot biscuits, and coffee made the
+drowsy crowd feel better.
+
+"Now," said Spurling, "we've got a big day's work ahead of us, and the
+sooner we start on it the better. We want to begin as quick as we can to
+round up some of those dollars that are finning and crawling in to us,
+so we mustn't waste any time in getting our trawls and traps overboard.
+First of all, we need bait. We can buy hake heads for our lobster-traps
+from the fish-wharf at Matinicus, and herring for the trawls from one of
+the weirs at Vinalhaven. That means traveling over forty miles; but it's
+fine weather, and we ought to do it easily. Besides, it'll give you
+fellows a good chance to learn how to handle a power-sloop. We'll take
+the trawls with us, and bait 'em on the way back, so as not to lose any
+time; and we'll set most of those lobster-traps this afternoon."
+
+They all went over to the fish-house, and Jim swung the door wide open.
+Five great hogsheads inside caught Percy's eye.
+
+"What're those for?" he asked.
+
+"Holding fish. Each one'll take care of what two thousand pounds of
+round fish'll make after they're dressed and salted."
+
+"What do you mean by round fish?"
+
+"Just as they come out of the water, before they're cleaned."
+
+"What're those half-barrels, full of small rope?"
+
+"Trawl-tubs; and those coils inside are the trawls. Each tub holds about
+five hundred fathoms of ground-line, with a thirty-eight-inch ganging,
+or short line with a hook on its end, tied every five feet; so there're
+between five hundred and six hundred hooks to every tub. One man alone
+can bait and handle four tubs of trawl. Two of us are going to fish
+together, so we ought to be able to swing six tubs without any trouble."
+
+Percy looked about the house. Other barrels stood there; a net was
+draped over the beams; many coils of small rope were hung along the
+walls or piled on the floor. His attention was attracted by a large heap
+of peculiarly shaped pieces of wood. Each was eighteen inches long, five
+inches square at one end, and tapered almost to a point at the other,
+near which a hole was bored; they were painted white, encircled by a
+single green stripe, and bore the brand "SP."
+
+"Cedar lobster-buoys," said Jim. "SP's my Uncle Tom's brand. Every man
+has a different kind, so his floats won't get mixed with anybody else's.
+Now let's take these tubs of trawl aboard the sloop."
+
+At six the _Barracouta_, carrying the five boys and towing the dory,
+started from Sprowl's Cove for Matinicus. It was so calm that the sails
+were of little assistance, and they had to depend almost entirely on the
+engine. Rounding Brimstone Point, they headed slightly north of west for
+Seal Island, about six miles away.
+
+Everybody took his turn at steering, Jim acting as instructor.
+
+"Any one of you may be called on to handle this boat alone some time in
+the next three months, and you can't begin learning how any too early."
+
+Percy's experience with automobiles stood him in good stead. He was
+naturally interested in machinery, and soon mastered the details of the
+_Barracouta's_ engine. The others also showed themselves apt pupils.
+
+At half past seven the high cliffs of Seal Island lay to the north.
+Passing for a mile along its rocky shores, they kept on toward
+Matinicus, now rising into view. Jim pointed to a breaker a little south
+of their course.
+
+"Malcolm's Ledges! A bad bunch of rocks. Years ago a fishing-schooner
+struck there in the night. Crew thought at first they'd reached safety,
+but they soon found it was only a half-tide ledge. The vessel heaved
+over it when the water rose, and sunk, so that only her topmast stuck
+out. One man, the sole survivor, hung to that. He was taken off in the
+morning, but his arm was worn almost to the bone by the swaying of the
+mast."
+
+Farther on they passed the long, treeless, granite hump of Wooden Ball,
+with its few lobstering-shacks, and sheep grazing in its grassy valleys.
+Ledge after ledge went by, until at last they entered the little rocky
+haven of Matinicus, crammed with moored sloops and power-boats, and ran
+in beside the high, granite fish-pier at its head.
+
+Percy found everything new and strange--the stilted wharves on the
+ledges, heaped with lobster-traps and festooned with buoys of all shapes
+and colors; the fish-pier with its open shed, sheltering the dark,
+discolored hogsheads rounded up with salted fish; the men in oilskin
+"petticoats," busy with splitting-knives on hake and cod and pollock and
+haddock, brought in by the noisy power-boats; the lighthouse-keepers
+from Matinicus Rock, five miles south, in military caps, oilskins, and
+red rubber boots, towing a dory to be dumped full of slimy hake heads
+for lobster bait; the post-office and general store above the cove, and
+the spruce-crowned rocks beyond it.
+
+[Illustration: THE CAMP AT SPROWL'S COVE]
+
+Jim pointed out a bronze tablet on a slanting ledge.
+
+"In memory of Ebenezer Hall, first English settler on Matinicus. He
+lived with his family in a log house at the head of this cove. In 1757
+some Indians were camped on one of the Green Islands, six miles or so
+northwest, living on the eggs of seabirds. Hall went over to the island
+one day and set fire to the grass, destroying the nests and eggs. Next
+morning five Indians in two canoes came over to Matinicus to take
+revenge. They landed on this beach, built a fire, and began cooking
+their breakfast. Hall had barricaded himself indoors, but he could put
+his head up through a little lookout in the top of his cabin. He wanted
+to shoot the Indians, but his wife wouldn't let him. After they had
+eaten they scattered and opened fire on the house from different points.
+Hall replied. Finally the Indians were reduced to their last
+half-bullet. One of them lay flat in that little hollow, while the
+others pretended to launch their canoes. Hall stuck his head up through
+the lookout to see what was going on, and the ambushed Indian sent the
+half-bullet through his brain. He dropped back inside. They wouldn't
+have known he was hit if his wife hadn't cried out for quarter. They
+burst open the door and carried her off, with her daughter and one son.
+Another boy escaped out of a back window and hid in the swamp, and they
+couldn't find him. Afterward he settled on an island close to
+Vinalhaven, where Heron's Neck Light is now."
+
+"Hall had better not have burned that grass," said Percy.
+
+"Yes," replied Jim. "If he had minded his own business and let the
+Indians alone he wouldn't have stopped that last half-bullet."
+
+The fish-pier was in charge of a superintendent, employed by a large
+Gloucester concern. Jim arranged to sell here whatever fish they might
+catch during the summer. He also bought several bushels of salt, as well
+as two barrels of hake heads to start them in lobstering. The
+_Barracouta's_ tank was filled with twenty-five gallons of gasolene, and
+six five-gallon cans were purchased besides. The boat would require
+about seven gallons a day for ordinary fishing, so this would supply
+them for more than a week.
+
+"How often do you get the mail?" asked Jim of the storekeeper, who was
+also postmaster.
+
+"Three times a week by steamer from Rockland--Tuesdays, Thursdays, and
+Fridays."
+
+As Spurling had decided to bring his fish over every Friday, they would
+thus be enabled to keep in fairly close touch with the outside world.
+Percy, however, was somewhat disgusted. He had gotten into the habit of
+thinking he could not live without a daily paper. While the others were
+purchasing various supplies, including some mosquito netting, he
+replenished his stock of cigarettes.
+
+"Anybody here got a wireless?" inquired Throppy.
+
+"No, but there's one on Criehaven, three miles south."
+
+Throppy had planned to install an outfit on Tarpaulin, and had already
+written home to have his plant there dismantled by his brother, and its
+parts forwarded by express to Matinicus. For an amateur he was an
+expert operator.
+
+The _Barracouta_ was already well loaded when, with the dory towing
+behind, she rounded the granite breakwater and started for Vinalhaven,
+twelve miles away. At noon they ran in alongside Hardy's weir on the
+eastern shore of the island. Several bushels of glittering herring were
+dipped aboard, and the heavily freighted sloop at once swung away on her
+fifteen-mile jaunt to Tarpaulin.
+
+"Now," said Jim, as soon as they were well clear of the island, "I'll
+teach you how to bait up. Take the tiller, Filippo."
+
+Emptying out the ground-line from one of the tubs, he took a small
+herring in his left hand, and with his right grasped the shank of the
+hook on the first ganging; he forced the sharp point into the fish until
+the barb had gone clean through and the herring was impaled firmly. Then
+he dropped the hook into the empty tub, giving the ganging a deft swing,
+so that it fell in a smooth coil. He repeated the process swiftly, while
+the others watched him with interest.
+
+"How many hooks can you bait in a minute?" asked Budge.
+
+"Time me."
+
+Budge followed the second-hand of his watch while the coil in the tub
+grew larger.
+
+"Better than ten a minute," he announced. "That's going some."
+
+"It's slow to what some fishermen can do. It means about an hour to a
+tub. Catch hold, you fellows, and see how fast you can do it. Might as
+well make a beginning. You'll have plenty of experience before the
+summer's ended. I'll take her awhile, Filippo."
+
+The other boys, Percy included, were soon hard at work, each on his own
+tub. At first they made a slow, awkward business of it. Impatient
+exclamations rose as the sharp hooks were stuck into clumsy fingers.
+Finally Percy threw down his trawl in a fit of anger.
+
+"I've had enough of this! I didn't come out here to butcher myself."
+
+"You can steer," said Jim, quietly. "I'll take your place."
+
+Percy stepped to the helm, and Jim began baiting again. The others stuck
+to their unfamiliar task, despite its discouragements, and were soon
+making fair headway. Percy eyed them sulkily. His pricked fingers
+smarted. The boat rolled and pitched on the old swell, making him a
+trifle seasick. A wave of disgust swept over him. This was no place for
+the son of a millionaire. He wished himself back on the land.
+
+By the time they reached Tarpaulin, at about half past four, all the six
+trawls were baited.
+
+"We won't set them till day after to-morrow," determined Jim. "Guess we
+can find enough work to keep us busy ashore till then."
+
+There was no doubt about that. Until supper-time various odd jobs kept
+everybody occupied. Most important of all, the mosquito netting was cut
+and tacked over the three windows.
+
+"Now we can have plenty of fresh air with the mosquitoes strained out of
+it," said Jim.
+
+Boughs of spruce and fir were brought from the woods and strewn in the
+bunks under the blankets. That night the boys turned in early and slept
+like the dead. Even Percy could find little fault with his pillow and
+mattress of fragrant needles.
+
+In the morning he took a swim. The water was too cold for comfort, and
+inadvertently he ran into a school of jellyfish, from which he emerged
+feeling as if he were on fire all over. He dressed hurriedly, shivering
+and disgruntled. The novelty of Tarpaulin was wearing off, and he hoped
+heartily that he would soon be in a more interesting place. A month
+there would drag horribly.
+
+That forenoon the inside of the cabin was put to rights. The spring was
+cleaned out and stoned up. Under Jim's direction the boys gathered a
+heap of driftwood and dragged it up to the highest part of Brimstone
+Point. There a beacon was built, and kindling placed beneath it.
+
+"That'll serve as a lighthouse in case any of us get caught out at night
+and lose our way," said Jim.
+
+The remainder of the morning was spent in fitting up the lobster-traps
+with warps, toggles, and buoys.
+
+During dinner the summer's work was discussed and the boys were allotted
+their respective duties. To Jim fell naturally the oversight of the
+fishing and lobstering. Lane was to receive and disburse all moneys, and
+have general charge of the business matters of the concern. Throppy,
+because of his mechanical and inventive turn of mind, was intrusted with
+the duty of seeing that the cabin, the boats, and all the gear were kept
+in first-class shape.
+
+"Now," concluded Jim, "so far the most important position of all has
+gone begging. Who'll be cook? Whittington, it lies between you and
+Filippo."
+
+"You can strike my name from the ballot at the go-off," stated Percy,
+promptly. "I never even boiled an egg in my life, and I don't intend to
+begin now."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"That narrows it down to Filippo," said Jim. "What do you say? Will you
+cook for us?"
+
+The Italian's melancholy olive face lighted up with pleasure.
+
+"_Si, si!_" he exclaimed, gladly. "I will cook."
+
+"Good enough! You're elected, then! We'll all tell you everything we
+know. Here's an old cook-book on the shelf, and well teach you the
+recipes. That leaves Whittington for general-utility man. He'll be our
+hewer of wood and drawer of water, to say nothing of washing the dishes.
+We'll all feel free to call on him whenever any of us gets into a tight
+place. How does that hit you, Whittington?"
+
+"Never touched me! I'm no servant."
+
+"What will you do, then?" inquired Jim, pointedly.
+
+"Just what I please, and not a thing besides," replied Percy, with equal
+directness.
+
+The others exchanged looks, but Jim said no more.
+
+The greater part of the afternoon was devoted to setting the
+lobster-traps. They were loaded on the sloop, dory, and pea-pod, taken
+out, and dropped overboard around the island, brown bottles, of which
+there was a generous supply in the shed, being fastened to the warps for
+"toggles," to hold them off the bottom, so that they might not catch on
+the rocks. By five all the traps were set.
+
+"You and Throppy can pull these to-morrow morning, Budge," said Jim, and
+he gave them brief directions. "I'll make a trip with you myself the
+next day. But to-morrow Whittington and I are going to see what we can
+get on the trawl."
+
+After an early supper they climbed the eastern point. The sheep, which
+were feeding on its top, scampered off at their approach, their retreat
+covered by the ram, with shaking head. Nemo rushed, barking, after the
+flock, only to be butted ignominiously head over heels and to retreat,
+yelping, to the beach.
+
+"Bully for Aries!" laughed Throppy.
+
+"Who's Aries?" asked Percy.
+
+"The ram, of course! Where's your Latin?"
+
+"Never heard the word. Where do these sheep drink, anyway? Out of the
+spring?"
+
+"No," replied Jim. "The dew on the grass gives them all the moisture
+they need."
+
+Sandpeeps were teetering along the ledges below. Two seals bobbed their
+round, black heads in the surf at the promontory's foot. A mile to the
+south rose the spout of a whale.
+
+"Many craft go by here?" inquired Budge.
+
+"Plenty. Fishing-schooners, tugs with their tows, yachts, tramp
+steamers, sailing-vessels from the Bay of Fundy for Boston, and every
+little while a smack or power-boat. The ocean liners to Portland pass
+about fifteen miles south. So we oughtn't to be lonesome."
+
+On the highest part of the point Throppy found a dead spruce about
+twenty feet tall, which he picked as a mast for his wireless. Its top
+would be at least sixty feet above the cabin, so he could talk over
+twenty-five miles. He had brought with him four hundred feet of copper
+bell-wire and a dozen or so cleat insulators. He cut two spruce
+spreaders, and strung his antennæ. Then he made a hole through the cabin
+wall, improvised an insulator out of a broken bottle, and a rough table
+out of a spare box, and was ready to install his batteries and
+instruments as soon as they should arrive.
+
+The boys returned to the cabin.
+
+"How about those conditions, Whittington?" asked Budge. "Going to begin
+making 'em up?"
+
+"No hurry about that," responded Percy, indifferently.
+
+He went outside to smoke a cigarette. The bull-frogs were singing in the
+marsh. Inside, Roger was making a start on teaching Filippo English,
+and learning a little Italian in return. Throppy was tuning his violin.
+He played a short selection, and then the boys turned in.
+
+"To-morrow we start fishing in dead earnest," said Jim. "Whittington and
+I'll get up at midnight, and Filippo'll have to give us breakfast. You
+other fellows won't need to turn out till four. Here's hoping for good
+luck all round!"
+
+Percy made a wry face. The hour for rising did not sound good to him,
+but there was no harm in trying it once. After that he would see. Soon
+all were sound asleep, lulled by the murmur of the surf.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+TRAWLING FOR HAKE
+
+
+"Turn out, Whittington! All aboard for the fishing-grounds!"
+
+Spurling's voice, reinforcing the last echoes of the alarm-clock,
+dispelled Percy's inclination to roll over for another nap. Jim's strong
+tones carried a suggestion of authority which the younger lad was half
+minded to resent. He swallowed his pride, however, rolled out, and
+dressed. It was only a half-hour after midnight when he sat down with
+Jim to a breakfast of warmed-over beans, corn-bread, and coffee,
+prepared by Filippo. Budge and Throppy were sleeping soundly. They would
+not get up until three hours later. Percy envied them, but he ate a good
+meal.
+
+"Now," directed Jim, "pull on those rubber boots and get into your
+oil-clothes. You'll see before long why they're useful. Trawling's a
+cold, wet, dirty business, and you want to be well prepared for it. And
+don't forget those nippers! They'll protect your hands from the chafe of
+the line."
+
+Taking buoys, anchors, and other gear from the fish-house, they got into
+the dory and rowed out to the _Barracouta_. The six tubs of trawl,
+baited two afternoons before, were already on board. They stowed
+everything in its place, then headed out of the cove, towing the dory.
+
+It was a clear, cool night. A light wind was blowing from the north, but
+the sea was fairly smooth.
+
+"Guess we'll run down to Clay Bank," said Spurling. "It's only six miles
+to the southward. We ought to get a good set there."
+
+Steadily they plowed on. It was Percy's first experience in a small boat
+on the midnight ocean, and he felt something akin to awe as they
+breasted the long swells, heaving in slowly and gently, yet
+resistlessly. Down to the horizon all around arched the deep blue
+firmament, spangled with stars. Matinicus Rock glittered in the west,
+while just beyond the shoulder of Brimstone Point, Saddleback Light,
+almost level with the sea, kept vanishing and reappearing.
+
+As the _Barracouta_ forged forward her prow started two diverging lines
+of phosphorescent bubbles and her wake resembled a trail of boiling
+flame. Percy called Jim's attention to the display.
+
+"Yes," remarked the latter, "the water's firing in good shape to-night."
+
+There was a sudden splash to starboard. A gleaming body several feet
+long rolled up above the surface; a grunting sigh broke the silence; and
+the apparition disappeared.
+
+"What's that?" demanded the startled Percy.
+
+"Porpoise! 'Puffing pig.'"
+
+For over an hour Jim held the sloop to an exact course by means of his
+compass. At half past two he stopped the engine.
+
+"Well, I guess we're here!"
+
+"We're here, fast enough!" assented Percy, staring about. "But where's
+here? Doesn't look any different to me from anywhere else."
+
+"Clay Bank."
+
+With his sounding-lead Jim tried the depth of the water.
+
+"Thought so! Fifty fathoms!"
+
+He prepared at once to set the trawl. Dropping the outer jib and
+mainsail, he jogged slowly before the wind under the jumbo, or inner
+jib.
+
+"Now let her go!"
+
+Over splashed the buoy, an empty pickle-keg, painted red, and drifted
+astern. Next, down went the light anchor. As soon as it reached bottom
+Jim lifted the first tub of trawl to the wash-board. Then with the
+heaving-stick, eighteen inches long and whittled to a point, he began to
+flirt overboard the coils lying in the tub.
+
+Percy, holding the lantern, watched the steady stream of gangings and
+herring-baited hooks follow one another over the side and sink astern.
+In a surprisingly short time the tub was empty, and the five hundred
+fathoms of trawl, with more than a hook to a fathom, lay in a long,
+straight line on the muddy bottom, three hundred feet below.
+
+A second tub trailed after the first, its trawl being attached to the
+end of the other. The four remaining tubs followed in order. At the
+junction of the second and third a buoy was fastened, and another
+between the fourth and fifth. To the end of the trawl from the sixth and
+last tub was tied another anchor, and as soon as it had reached bottom
+the last buoy was cast over. They had set almost three and a half miles
+of trawl, bearing more than thirty-one hundred short, baited lines.
+
+"And there's a good job done!" exclaimed Jim, as the last buoy floated
+astern. "Here's to a ten-pound hake on every hook!"
+
+"Do you often catch as many as that?" inquired Percy, innocently.
+
+Jim laughed.
+
+"Hardly! We'll be more than lucky if we get a tenth of that number."
+
+Day was now breaking. The night wind had died out and, save for the
+long, oily swells, the sea was absolutely calm. Jim started the engine
+and swung the _Barracouta_ round, and they ran leisurely back to the
+other end of the trawl, meanwhile eating the lunch Filippo had put up
+for them. Soon they were close to the first red buoy.
+
+"Now for business!" said Jim.
+
+He stepped into the dory.
+
+"Guess you know enough about automobiles, Whittington, to handle this
+engine. Keep the sloop close by and watch me haul. You can take your
+turn when I get tired."
+
+Gaffing the buoy aboard, he pulled up the anchor, and soon was hauling
+in the trawl over the wooden roller on the starboard bow. Percy watched
+with all his eyes. This was real fishing.
+
+As the line came in Jim coiled it smoothly down into an empty tub on a
+stand in the bow. The first three hooks were skinned clean.
+
+"Something down there, at any rate," he commented.
+
+The trawl sagged heavily.
+
+"First fish, and a good-sized one! Pretty logy, though! Feels like a
+hake!"
+
+Percy stared down into the blackish-green water. Out of its gloomy
+depths rose an indistinct shadow, gradually assuming definite shape. A
+blunt, lumpy head with big, staring eyes broke the surface; two long
+streamers hung from beneath the lower jaw.
+
+Jim reached for his gaff.
+
+"Hake! And a good one, too!"
+
+Striking the sharp iron hook through the fish's gills, he lifted the
+slimy gray body over the gunwale, unhooked it, and slung it,
+floundering, over the kid-board into the empty space amidships.
+
+"Fifteen-pounder! Wish we could get a hundred more like him! Hullo!
+Who's next?"
+
+The newcomer had a huge reddish-brown head with bulging cheeks; his
+blotched body, adorned with wicked spines, tapered slimly off to an
+inconspicuous tail.
+
+"Horn-pout! Toad sculpin! Bah! Get out!"
+
+Jim slat the fish disgustedly off, and he sculled slowly downward. Two
+more bare hooks. Then three hake in succession, the largest not over
+five pounds. On the next line hung a writhing, twisting shape about
+eighteen inches long. With a wry face Jim held the thing up for Percy's
+inspection.
+
+"Slime eel! He's tied the ganging into knots and thrown off his jacket.
+Look here!"
+
+He stripped from the line a handful of tough, stringy slime like a mass
+of soft soap.
+
+"How's that for an overcoat! They always throw it off when they get hung
+up on a trawl."
+
+Flinging the stuff away with a grimace, he rinsed his hand and cut off
+the ganging with his knife.
+
+"No use trying to unhook that fellow!"
+
+Fathom after fathom of trawl came in over the roller. The flapping,
+dying heap in the center of the dory enlarged steadily. Jim was
+spattered with scales from head to foot, and drenched with water from
+the splashing tails. He stopped for a moment to rest.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Now you see what oil-clothes are good for," said he. "I'll give you
+your chance in a little while."
+
+Percy had kept the _Barracouta_ near by as Jim pulled the dory along
+the trawl. He could watch the process very well from the sloop, and he
+was by no means anxious for a personal experience with it. It looked too
+much like hard work. He made no reply to Jim's offer.
+
+Refreshed by his rest, the latter resumed hauling. Up came a little
+cluster of yellow plums, as large as small walnuts, each on a stem six
+inches long, attached to a brownish bunch of roots.
+
+"Nigger-heads! Always grow on rocky bottom; nicest kind of place for
+fish. Trawl must have run over a patch of ledge. We're likely to pick up
+something here besides hake. What's this?"
+
+A heavy fish appeared, hanging motionless on the next ganging. Jim gave
+a shout.
+
+"Haddock! Twelve-pounder. Swallowed the hook and worried himself to
+death. Drowned!"
+
+"Drown a fish!" jeered Percy.
+
+"Sure you can, any kind of fish, if you only keep his mouth open. If
+this fellow hadn't taken the bait in so deep he'd have been liable to
+break away. Fishermen call 'em 'butter-mouths,' their flesh is so
+tender; under jaw's the only place where a hook will hold to lift 'em
+by. See his red lips, and that black streak down each side. And look at
+these two black spots, big as silver dollars, on his shoulders; that's
+where they say the devil got him between his thumb and forefinger, but
+couldn't hold on."
+
+It was now not far from four o'clock. The sun, rising straight from the
+water, lifted his fiery red disk above the eastern horizon. It was a
+strange sight to Percy. The sunrises he had seen could almost be
+numbered on the fingers of one hand. He yawned. The novelty of trawling
+was wearing off; he wished himself back in his hard bunk.
+
+A heavy, chunky fish of an old-gold color, with an almost continuous
+line of fins, was the next habitant of the sea to cross the dory
+gunwale. Jim held him up to show Percy.
+
+"Look at this cusk! He likes rocky bottom as well as a haddock. He's
+used to deep water, and if you start him up quick his stomach will blow
+out of his mouth like a bladder. I've seen 'em so plenty that they
+floated a trawl on top of water for half a mile."
+
+Seven or eight small haddock and cusk, and then once more the trawl
+began to yield hake.
+
+"Back again on muddy bottom," said Jim. "What d'you say to trying your
+hand at it?"
+
+Percy agreed, but without enthusiasm. He had seen enough to realize that
+pulling a trawl was no sinecure. By means of a fish-fork Jim pitched his
+catch aboard the sloop. The first tub of trawl was now full. He
+transferred it to the _Barracouta_ and set an empty tub in its place.
+
+"You'll find fishing is no bed of roses," he remarked as he dropped down
+into the standing-room.
+
+"I believe you," answered Percy, with conviction.
+
+He started to get aboard the dory.
+
+"Not there!" warned Jim. "Forward of the kid-board!"
+
+The caution came too late. Percy stepped into the slippery pen from
+which the fish had just been pitched; unluckily, too, he was not careful
+to plant his weight amidships. The dory, overbalanced to starboard,
+careened suddenly, and he fell sprawling on the slimy bottom. Jim could
+not repress an exclamation of impatience.
+
+"Why didn't you step where I told you?"
+
+"I didn't think she'd tip so easy," retorted Percy, angrily.
+
+In bad humor with himself and things in general, he scrambled up and
+took his place back of the empty tub. Jim sheered the _Barracouta_ off.
+
+"Put on your nippers! If you don't your hands will be raw in a little
+while."
+
+Percy thrust his fingers through the white woolen doughnuts, grasped the
+trawl, and began dragging it in over the roller. He made slow, awkward
+work of it. Jim watched him with ill-suppressed impatience, keeping up a
+constant stream of necessary counsel.
+
+"Careful! Don't jerk so, or you'll catch your hooks in the gunwale.
+There's a good-sized one! Don't try to lift him aboard without the gaff.
+Press your hook down and back! Don't yank it sideways like that; you'll
+only hook him harder. Coil that line away more evenly, or we'll have a
+bad mess when we come to bait up. Don't lose that fellow! There he goes!
+Be more careful of the next one!"
+
+Needful though it was, this quickfire of advice rasped on Percy's
+temper. The unaccustomed work tired him badly. He was soon conscious of
+a pain in his shoulders and across the back of his neck; his wrists
+ached. Every now and then the hard, wiry line slipped off the nippers
+and sawed across his smarting fingers or palms. But pride kept him
+doggedly pulling.
+
+A dozen hake of various sizes lay behind him in the pen when a flat,
+kite-shaped fish, four feet long, with a caricature of a human face
+beneath its head, came scaling up through the water.
+
+"What's that?" he gasped in amazement.
+
+"Skate!"
+
+"Shall I keep him?"
+
+"Keep him? No! Unless you want to eat him yourself."
+
+Bunglingly Percy tried to dismiss his unwelcome catch, but he made slow
+work of extricating the deeply swallowed hook. Jim had stopped the
+_Barracouta_ a few feet off. With the agony that an expert feels at the
+unskilful butchery of a task by an amateur, he watched his mate's
+awkward attempts. At last he could stand it no longer.
+
+"Come aboard the sloop, Whittington," he ordered. "I'll finish pulling
+the trawl."
+
+Percy obeyed sullenly. He had almost reached his limit of physical
+endurance, and he was only too glad of relief for his smarting skin and
+aching muscles. Fishing was a miserable business, and he wanted no part
+of it; on that he was fully decided. But even if a job is unpleasant, a
+man would rather resign than be discharged. Jim's abruptness hurt his
+pride; the slight rankled.
+
+From the _Barracouta_ he somewhat enviously watched Spurling deftly
+unhook the skate. The remainder of the trawl was pulled in in silence.
+Percy kept the sloop at a distance that discouraged speech, closing the
+gap only when Jim signaled that he wished to discharge his cargo. By ten
+o'clock the last hook was reached, anchor and buoy taken aboard, and
+the _Barracouta_, with two thousand pounds of fish heaped in her kids
+and towing astern in the dory, headed for Tarpaulin Island.
+
+The trip home was a glum one. Two or three times Jim tried to open a
+conversation, but Percy responded only in monosyllables. He was tired
+and sleepy, and felt generally out-of-sorts. So Jim gave it up and let
+him alone.
+
+They reached Sprowl's Cove at noon. Budge and Throppy had returned some
+time before from pulling the lobster-traps; Jim inspected their catch.
+
+"About forty pounds," was his estimate. "Rather slim; but then the traps
+were down only about twelve hours. We'll do better after we get fairly
+started. I'm not going trawling to-morrow; so the whole crowd can make a
+lobstering trip in the _Barracouta_. Now let's have dinner. This
+afternoon we'll all turn to and dress fish."
+
+Percy filed a mental negative to the last statement. He had decided
+that, so far at least as Tarpaulin Island was concerned, his fishing
+days were over. Nevertheless, he ate a good dinner.
+
+At one o'clock the four academy boys rowed out to the _Barracouta_. All
+but Percy had on their oilskin aprons, or "petticoats."
+
+"Where's your regimentals, Whittington?" asked Lane.
+
+"I'm only going to look on this afternoon," replied Percy.
+
+The other three exchanged surprised glances, but made no comments. On
+board the sloop Jim was soon busily engaged in demonstrating the process
+of dressing fish. Budge and Throppy learned quickly. Percy's refusal to
+take part in the work did not prevent him from watching it with interest
+from the cabin roof.
+
+The fish were split and cleaned. Their heads were cut off and thrown
+into a barrel, to serve later as lobster bait, and the livers tossed
+into pails. Their "sounds," the membrane running along the backbone,
+were removed and placed in a box. After the bodies had been rinsed in a
+tub of water, and the backbones cut out, they were flung into the dory,
+taken ashore and plunged into another tub of water, and then salted down
+in hogsheads. Three pairs of hands made speedy work.
+
+"What do you do with those?"
+
+Percy pointed to the pails containing the livers.
+
+"Leave 'em in a barrel in the sun to be tried out," responded Jim. "The
+oil is worth more than sixty cents a gallon."
+
+"And those?"
+
+He indicated the box of "sounds."
+
+"Cut 'em open with a pair of shears, press out the blood, and spread 'em
+on wire netting to dry for three days; then sew 'em up in sacks, to be
+shipped to some glue-factory. Four pounds of 'em'll bring a dollar.
+These things and some others are the by-products of the fishing
+business. They're worth too much to throw away."
+
+Percy's eye dwelt on the knives and aprons of his three associates.
+
+"I'm glad I don't have to fish for a living," he said.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+SHORTS AND COUNTERS
+
+
+Percy slept soundly that night. To be sure, the alarm routed out the
+Spurlingites at the unseemly hour of four, but that was far better than
+twelve. After breakfast he enjoyed a cigarette on the beach while the
+others were helping Filippo clear away. It was a calm, beautiful
+morning, and as young Whittington gazed over the smooth, blue sea he
+felt that even a fisherman's life might have its redeeming features.
+
+At six they all started to make the round of the lobster-traps, on the
+_Barracouta_. The first string of white buoys, striped with green, was
+encountered off Brimstone Point.
+
+"Here's where we make a killing," said Jim.
+
+As he approached the first buoy he opened his switch, stopping the
+engine. Putting on his woolen mittens, he picked up the gaff. Close
+under the starboard quarter bobbed the brown bottle that served as a
+toggle. Reaching out with his gaff, he hooked this aboard, and began
+hauling in the warp. At last the heavily weighted trap started off
+bottom and began to ascend. In a half-minute its end, draped with marine
+growths, broke the surface.
+
+Holding the trap against the side, Jim tore off its incumbrances. The
+trailing mass was composed principally of irregular, brownish-black,
+leathery sheets at the end of long stems.
+
+"Kelp!" answered Jim to Percy's inquiry. "Devil's aprons! They grow on
+rocky bottom. I've seen a trap so loaded with 'em that you could hardly
+stir it."
+
+He dragged the lath coop up on the side. It contained a miscellaneous
+assortment, the most interesting objects in which were four or five
+black, scorpion-like shell-fish clinging to the netted heads and
+sprawling on the bottom. Unbuttoning the door at the top, Jim darted in
+his hand and seized one of these by its back. Round came the claws, wide
+open, and snapped shut close to his fingers; but he had grasped his
+prize at the one spot where the brandishing pincers could not reach him.
+
+"He's a 'counter,' fast enough! No need of measuring him! Must weigh at
+least two pounds."
+
+Jim dropped the snapping shell-fish into a tub in the standing-room.
+
+"I thought lobsters were red," remarked Percy.
+
+"They are--after you boil 'em."
+
+Spurling's hand went into the trap again. This time the result was not
+so satisfactory. Out came a little fellow, full of fight. Jim tested his
+length by pressing his back between the turned-up ends of a brass
+measure screwed against the side of the standing-room.
+
+"Thought so! He's a 'short'!"
+
+He tossed the lobster overboard.
+
+"What did you throw him away for?" asked Percy. "Isn't he good to eat?"
+
+"Nothing better! But it's the State law. Everything that comes short of
+four and three-fourths inches, solid bone measure, from the tip of the
+nose to the end of the back, has to be thrown over where it's caught."
+
+"Why's that?"
+
+"To keep 'em from being exterminated. It's based on the same principle
+as the law on trout or any other game-fish. Lobsters are growing scarcer
+every year, and something has to be done to preserve 'em."
+
+"Does everybody throw the little ones away?"
+
+"No! If they did there'd be more of legal size. The Massachusetts law
+allows the sale there of lobsters an inch and a half shorter than the
+length specified here; so their smacks come down, lie outside the
+three-mile limit, and buy 'shorts' of every fisherman who's willing to
+break the Maine law to sell 'em. Besides that, most of the summer
+cottagers along the coast buy and catch all the 'shorts' they can. So
+it's no wonder the lobster's running out."
+
+While Jim talked he was emptying the trap. Another "counter" went into
+the tub, and two more "shorts" splashed overboard. The financial side of
+the question interested Percy.
+
+"How many 'shorts' will you probably get a week?"
+
+"Five hundred or more."
+
+"And how much would a Massachusetts smack pay you for 'em?"
+
+"Ten or twelve cents apiece."
+
+"Then you expect to throw more than fifty dollars a week over the side,
+just to obey the law?"
+
+"That's what!"
+
+Percy lapsed into silence. The lobsters disposed of, Jim began to clear
+the trap of its other contents. A big brown sculpin was floundering on
+the laths. Taking him out gingerly, Jim tossed him into the bait-tub
+upon the hake heads.
+
+"He'll do for bait in a few days."
+
+He picked out and threw over three or four large starfish, or
+"five-fingers." The hake head stuck on the bait-spear in the center was
+almost gone; Jim replaced it with a fresh head from the bait-tub. Then
+he seized a mottled, purplish crab that had been aimlessly scuttling to
+and fro across the bottom of the pot, and impaled him, back down, on the
+barb of the spear. Shutting and buttoning the door, he slid the trap
+overboard, started his engine, and headed for the next buoy.
+
+Its trap was caught among the rocks on the bottom, and Jim, unable to
+start it by hand, was obliged to make the warp fast and have recourse to
+towing. Just as it looked as if the line were about to part, the trap
+let go. It yielded one "counter" and three "shorts." Also, it contained
+more than a dozen brown, unhealthy-looking, membranous things, shaped
+like long coin-purses, lined with rows of suckers, and with mouths at
+one end.
+
+"Sea-cucumbers! I've seen a trap full of 'em, almost to the door.
+They're after the bait, like everything else."
+
+Trap after trap was pulled, with varying success. Occasionally from a
+single one three or four good-sized lobsters would be taken;
+occasionally one would yield nothing at all. But the majority averaged
+one "counter." Percy could not accustom himself to the seeming waste of
+throwing over the "shorts."
+
+"I should think you might sell those little fellows to the Massachusetts
+boats, and nobody be the wiser for it."
+
+"I could; but I won't. I'll make clean money or I won't make any at
+all."
+
+There was a finality in Jim's tones that closed the subject for good.
+Half the traps had now been hauled and there were about seventy-five
+pounds of lobsters in the tub. Spiny, egg-like sea-urchins, green
+wrinkles, and an occasional flounder or lamper-eel gave variety to the
+catch. There was always the hope that the next trap might yield five or
+six big fellows.
+
+"Now and then," said Jim, "you get one so large he can't crawl into a
+pot. He'll be on the head, just as you start pulling, and he'll hang to
+the netting until he comes to the top. After they take hold of anything,
+they hate to let go."
+
+"What's the biggest one you ever saw?" asked Lane.
+
+"One day when I was in Rockland, a smack brought in a fifteen-pounder
+she'd bought at Seal Island. But of course they grow a good deal larger
+than that. The big ones don't taste nearly so good as the little ones.
+After they get to be a certain age, seven or eight years, the fishermen
+think, they don't 'shed.' Then you find 'em covered with barnacles,
+their claws cracked into squares, all wrinkled up. Those old grubbers
+belong to the offshore school; they stay outside, and never come in on
+the rocks."
+
+Percy was listening with all his ears.
+
+"What do you mean by saying they don't 'shed'?" he asked.
+
+"Harken to the lecture on lobsters by Professor James Spurling!"
+announced Lane in stentorian tones.
+
+The next group of traps was some distance off, so Jim had a chance to
+talk without interruption.
+
+"In the spring a lobster that is growing begins to find his shell too
+tight, so he has to get out of it. Some time after the first of July he
+crawls in under the rocks or kelp, where the fish can't trouble him. His
+shell splits down the back and he pulls himself out. He stays there for
+a week or ten days while a new and larger shell is forming. When he
+begins to crawl again, he's raving hungry. One queer thing I almost
+forgot. Fishermen say that, while he is lying under cover, all soft and
+unprotected, a hard-shell lobster, active and ugly, generally stands
+guard outside the hole, ready to fight off any enemy that may come
+along."
+
+By the time the last trap was pulled the lobster question had been
+pretty thoroughly canvassed.
+
+"Guess I've told you all I know, and more, too," said Jim.
+
+They were back in Sprowl's Cove at half past ten, and put their lobsters
+into the car with the others. Hardly had they finished when a
+motor-sloop came round the eastern point.
+
+"Here's a smack!" exclaimed Jim. "On time to the minute! Shouldn't
+wonder if it was Captain Higgins in the _Calista!_"
+
+The boat swept into the cove in a broad circle, and ranged alongside the
+car. At the helm stood a tall, grizzled man of perhaps sixty, with gray
+beard and twinkling blue eyes. A lanky, freckled boy stuck his head up
+out of the cabin.
+
+"Any lobsters to sell, boys?" inquired the man.
+
+"Isn't this Captain Higgins?" asked Jim.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"That's my name--Benjamin B. Higgins, of the smack _Calista_, buying
+lobsters from Cranberry Island to Portland, and this is my son Brad, my
+first mate and crew. I own this boat from garboard to main truck,
+bowsprit-tip to boom-end, and I don't wear any man's dog-collar. I'll
+give you a square deal on weight and pay you as much as any smackman,
+neither more nor less. Do we trade?"
+
+"We do," answered Jim. "Let's have your dip-net!"
+
+Stepping upon the car, he was soon bailing out the lobsters. Captain
+Higgins placed them in a tub on his deck scale.
+
+"Going to be here long, boys?"
+
+"We've taken the island for the season from my Uncle Tom Sprowl."
+
+"So you're Cap'n Tom's nephew? Must be Ezra Spurling's boy."
+
+Jim nodded.
+
+"Glad to meet you! Made a trip once to the Grand Banks with Ezra; must
+be all of thirty years ago. Well, time flies! If you'll save your
+lobsters for me, I'll look in here every Thursday. How does that hit
+you?"
+
+"Right between the eyes."
+
+After the lobsters were bailed out, Jim and Budge went on board the
+smack. Captain Higgins weighed the heaping tub of shell-fish.
+
+"One hundred and seventy pounds. Market price 's twenty-five."
+
+He glanced inquiringly at Jim.
+
+"All right!" agreed the latter.
+
+"Then we'll put 'em in the well."
+
+He lifted off a hatch aft of the scale, opening into a compartment
+containing something over three feet of water; it was twelve feet long
+and thirteen wide, and divided into two parts by a low partition running
+lengthwise of the sloop. Two water-tight bulkheads separated it from the
+rest of the boat, and several hundred inch-and-a-quarter holes, bored
+through its bottom to allow free access to the water outside, gave it
+the appearance of a pepper-box. It already contained hundreds of live
+lobsters.
+
+Picking the shell-fish carefully from the tub, Jim and the captain
+dropped them, one by one, into the well. Soon all were safely
+transferred to their new quarters, and the hatch was replaced. Captain
+Higgins invited Jim and Budge down into his little den of a cabin.
+Unlocking an iron box, he took from it a wallet and began counting out
+bills.
+
+"Forty-two dollars and a half!"
+
+He passed the amount over to Jim.
+
+"You carry quite a sum of ready money, Captain," said Lane.
+
+"Yes; I have to. This business is cash on the nail. My boat can take
+over twelve thousand pounds of lobsters, and sometimes she's almost
+filled. I've started out with three thousand dollars in that box, and I
+rarely go with less than two thousand. It'd surprise you to figure up
+the amount of cash these smacks spread along the coast. They say that
+one winter, when lobsters were specially high, a Portland dealer paid a
+smackman over fifty-five hundred dollars for a single trip."
+
+"Somebody must make a big profit. Think what a lobster costs in a
+market!"
+
+"Somebody does--sometimes. But it isn't the smackmen. Lobsters ought not
+to be kept in a well longer than a few days. A friend of mine started
+out from Halifax with ten thousand pounds of Cape Breton lobsters. He
+got caught in a gale of wind and lost forty-seven hundred pounds before
+he landed in Boston. Some years ago a Maine dealer put one hundred and
+five thousand lobsters in a pound during May and June; he fed them
+chiefly on herring, and the total cost was over ten thousand dollars.
+Things went wrong and he took out just two hundred and fifty-four live
+ones. Not much profit about that!"
+
+Arranging to call near noon the next Thursday, Captain Higgins had soon
+rounded Brimstone Point and was on his way to Head Harbor on Isle au
+Haut, his next stopping-place. In the middle of the afternoon, while the
+boys were baiting trawls on the _Barracouta_, another boat chugged into
+the cove. It was a smack from Boston.
+
+"Got any lobsters, boys?" asked the captain, a red-faced, smooth-shaven
+man of forty.
+
+"All sold!" was Jim's reply. "And we've arranged to let the _Calista_
+have what we get."
+
+"What do you do with your 'shorts'?"
+
+"Heave 'em overboard."
+
+"Save 'em for me and I'll give you ten cents apiece for 'em."
+
+"Nothing doing!"
+
+"You and your crowd could clean up fifty dollars more a week here just
+as well as not. What are you afraid of? The warden can't get out here
+once in a dog's age."
+
+"The State of Maine doesn't have to hire any warden to keep me honest."
+
+"You're a fool, young fellow!" said the man, heatedly.
+
+"That may be," retorted Jim, "but your saying so doesn't make me one.
+Besides, I'd rather be a fool than a crook."
+
+The smackman's red face grew redder.
+
+"Don't you get fresh with me!" he warned, threateningly. "Do you mean to
+say I'd do anything crooked?"
+
+"You're the best judge about that."
+
+Jim was tiring of the conversation. He turned his back on the stranger
+and resumed baiting his trawl. Finding that nothing was to be gained by
+a longer stop, the man, muttering angrily, started his engine and left
+the cove.
+
+"I'm not saying whether this lobster law's a good thing or not," said
+Jim to the other boys. "Some fishermen say it isn't. But so long as it's
+the law it ought to be kept, until we can get a better one. I don't
+believe in breaking it just for the sake of making a few dollars."
+
+"Then the law doesn't suit everybody," ventured Throppy.
+
+"Not by a long shot! Each session of the Legislature they fight it over,
+and make some changes, and then a new set of people are dissatisfied.
+What's meat to one man is poison to another. It's impossible to pass a
+law somebody wouldn't find fault with."
+
+"What keeps one man from pulling another man's traps?" asked Percy.
+
+"His conscience, if he has any; and, if he hasn't, his dread of being
+found out. It's a mean kind of thieving, but more or less of it's done
+alongshore. Sometimes it costs a man dear. I know of two cases, within
+twenty-five miles of this island, where men have been shot dead for that
+very thing. About as unhealthy as stealing horses out West, if you're
+caught. Like everything else, now and then it has its funny side. Once a
+lobsterman lost his watch, chain and all; for a day or two he was asking
+everybody he met if they'd seen it. A neighbor of his went out to pull
+his own traps. In one of them he found the first man's watch, hanging by
+its chain to the door, just where it had been caught and twitched out of
+its owner's pocket when he had slid the trap overboard, after stealing
+the lobsters in it. It was a long time before he heard the last of
+that."
+
+"Did he get his watch back?" asked Percy.
+
+"Don't know!" replied Jim. "But if he didn't it served him right."
+
+On the _Barracouta's_ next trip to Matinicus she brought back the
+balance of Throppy's wireless outfit. It did not take him long to get
+his plant in working order. Almost every evening thereafter he spent a
+short time picking up messages from passing steamers and the neighboring
+islands, and sending others in return. The wireless came to fill an
+important place in the life of the boys on Tarpaulin, furnishing a bond
+of connection between them and the outside world.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+SALT-WATER GIPSIES
+
+
+A few mornings after the first call of the _Calista_ Budge and Percy
+were out pulling traps. Percy had told Jim plainly that he did not care
+to do any more trawling. Jim had smiled and made no reply; but after
+that either Throppy or Budge went out with him after hake. What the
+others said in private about Percy he neither knew nor cared.
+
+On this particular forenoon the lobster-catchers had half circled the
+island. As they nosed along the northern shore Percy spied some
+strange-looking floats ahead.
+
+"There's a red buoy!" he exclaimed. "Somebody else must be fishing
+here!"
+
+Incredulously Budge glanced forward. What he saw left him sober.
+
+"You're right! This'll be unpleasant news for Jim."
+
+They ran up to the strange float. It was a battered wedge, painted a
+faded brick color. Percy gaffed it aboard.
+
+"What's the brand?" queried Budge.
+
+"Hasn't any."
+
+Lane examined it and found that Percy was correct. The wood bore no
+marks to reveal its owner.
+
+"Better haul the trap?" asked Percy.
+
+He began heaving in on the warp.
+
+"Stop that!" ordered Budge, sharply. "Throw it over. We don't want to
+get into any scrape. We'll have to put it up to Jim this noon. He'll
+know what to do."
+
+They counted nine more of the red buoys before they reached the
+northeast point of the island.
+
+"Look there!"
+
+Percy pointed toward the landlocked Sly Hole. A thin column of blue
+smoke was rising above it, as if from the stovepipe of an anchored boat.
+Budge debated for a moment, then turned the bow of the pea-pod toward
+the narrow entrance.
+
+"We'll go in and see who's there."
+
+A dozen quick strokes sent the boat through the winding channel into the
+little harbor. Budge rested on his oars and they looked eagerly about.
+
+In the center of the haven lay anchored a rusty black sloop about forty
+feet long, a dory swinging at her stern. From her cabin drifted the
+sound and smell of frying fish, mingled with men's voices.
+
+"Might as well take the bull by the horns," said Budge.
+
+He rowed directly up to the sloop. The sounds on board evidently drowned
+the dipping of his oars, for it was not until the stem of the pea-pod
+struck the rusty side that the voices stopped and two startled brown
+faces popped up out of the companionway. Both men had sharp black eyes,
+and black shocks of hair badly in need of the barber. One was slightly
+gray, and a prickly stubble of unshaven beard covered his chin. The
+younger man had a jet-black mustache with long, drooping ends. Both wore
+red shirts, open at the neck, with sleeves rolled above the elbows. The
+younger held a half-smoked cigar, while his companion grasped a large
+fork, which he evidently had been using on the fish. For a few seconds
+the two couples regarded each other in silence.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Then the man with the black mustache smiled ingratiatingly.
+
+"H'lo, boys!" he invited. "Won't you come 'board?"
+
+"No, thank you," declined Budge. "When did you get here?"
+
+"We come last night, from ... there," with a vague gesture toward the
+west. "We fish, we lobster. You live on dis island ... yes? We stay
+here, too. We be good friend. Wait!"
+
+Diving below, he brought up a long-necked black bottle.
+
+"You have drink?"
+
+"No!" refused Budge, decidedly.
+
+The man looked disappointed. He muttered a few words to his companion.
+The latter scowled. Then they drank from the bottle and replaced it
+below. The younger man began talking again.
+
+"Disa good harbor! We build camp there."
+
+He gestured toward the beach.
+
+"We plenty lath on board. We make one ... two hundred trap. We stop all
+summer. Good friend, eh?"
+
+"I guess so," returned Budge.
+
+The program announced had taken him somewhat aback. He hardly knew what
+to reply. Pushing the pea-pod off, he turned her toward the channel.
+
+"You livea 'cross dis island ... yes?" shouted the man after him. "We
+come see you to-night!"
+
+Budge made no response to this advance. Steady, rapid pulling soon
+brought the boys again into open water.
+
+"Well, what do you think now?" asked Percy.
+
+"Wait till we hear what Jim says," was Lane's reply.
+
+The remaining traps were hauled in double-quick time and they made a
+bee-line for Sprowl's Cove. Spurling and Throppy came in at noon on the
+_Barracouta_. Jim's brows knitted when he heard of their new neighbors.
+
+"What should you say they were?" he inquired.
+
+"Don't know," answered Lane. "Only I'm sure they're not Yankees."
+
+"And they had no brand on their buoys?"
+
+"Not a letter!"
+
+"That's against the law. Suspicious, too. So they intend to build a camp
+here and spend the summer?"
+
+"That's what they said."
+
+The anxious furrows in Jim's forehead deepened. He brought his fist down
+hard on the _Barracouta's_ cabin.
+
+"Boys," he said, firmly, "they can't stop here. There aren't lobsters
+enough on these ledges for them and for us. What they get we won't.
+They've got to pull up those traps and get out just as quick as we can
+make 'em."
+
+The others exchanged looks of surprise. Though they knew Jim's absolute
+fairness and sense of right, they could not help feeling that his
+decision was a harsh one. Jim read their faces.
+
+"I know what you're thinking, boys. It seems as if I had no right to
+drive 'em off. But suppose any one of you owned a piece of woods on the
+mainland, and a stranger should come and begin to chop the trees down
+without your permission. How long would you stand it? The same principle
+holds good here, even if it is twenty-five miles offshore. This is my
+uncle Tom's island. He's been paying taxes on it for years. His living
+comes from it and the waters round it. He's leased it to us on shares,
+and we've got to look out for his interest as well as our own.
+
+"But how can you stop them from setting traps?" queried Lane. "I thought
+the sea beyond low-water mark was public property."
+
+"It is. They can set as many traps as they can bring on their sloop, and
+I never could trouble 'em so long as they lived aboard. If they fished
+with only the few they've got now I'd never say a word. But when they
+talk of building a camp ashore, and going into the business wholesale
+with one or two hundred pots, we must draw the line, and draw it sharp.
+They can't use any of the shore legally without my permission, and that
+they'll never get; and if they try to use it illegally they'll find
+themselves in hot water mighty quick.
+
+"Another thing," he continued, "they're strangers to us, and drinking
+men. They might pull our traps or accuse us of pulling theirs. There's a
+chance for all sorts of mix-ups. No, they've got to go, and the sooner
+the better."
+
+"They're coming across to call to-night," said Lane.
+
+"Not if we can get over there first. We'll go round in the sloop as soon
+as these hake are dressed and salted."
+
+At four o'clock the last fish was slapped down on the rounded-up tub.
+
+"Now we'll go," announced Jim. "Come on, everybody! You, too, Filippo!
+Might as well show up our full force. It may help stave off trouble."
+
+"Aren't you going to take the gun?" Percy inquired.
+
+"Gun? No! What'd we want of that? We don't intend to shoot anybody."
+
+Twenty minutes after the _Barracouta_ left Sprowl's Cove she was
+thudding into the Sly Hole. The sloop still lay at anchor in its center,
+but the dory was grounded on the beach. From the woods above, ax-strokes
+echoed faintly.
+
+"Either cutting firewood or beginning on that camp," said Jim.
+
+Presently the chopping ceased. Before long the two men appeared on the
+top of the bank, dragging a spruce trunk about twenty feet long. On
+seeing the _Barracouta_ they halted in surprise, then dropped the tree
+and hurried down to their dory.
+
+"Seem to be afraid we've been mousing round aboard their boat," muttered
+Spurling.
+
+Without responding to his hail the two strangers rowed hastily to their
+sloop and went below. A minute or two of investigation evidently
+satisfied them that nothing had been disturbed. As they came up again
+Jim ran the _Barracouta_ alongside.
+
+"Where you from?" he asked.
+
+The younger man again acted as spokesman:
+
+"Way off ... there!"
+
+As when Budge had questioned him, he gestured vaguely toward the west.
+Then he launched into a repetition of what he had said that forenoon.
+
+"We stay on dis island all summer. Make trap. Build camp. Catch plenty
+fish, plenty lobster. All friend, eh?"
+
+He laid his left hand on his heart, and with his right made a sweeping
+gesture that included the whole group.
+
+"You wait!"
+
+Dropping suddenly out of sight, he reappeared with equal quickness,
+brandishing the black bottle.
+
+"We drink ... all together, eh?"
+
+Jim brushed his proffer aside.
+
+"I've hired this island. You'll have to pay me rent if you stop here."
+
+A shadow of wrath swept over the dark face. Instantly it was gone, and a
+smile replaced it.
+
+"Rent!" he protested. "No, no! Friend no pay! We sing, we smoke, we
+drink, we playa cards. All good friend together. No pay money!"
+
+The last very decided. The older man nodded vigorously in confirmation,
+and for the first time broke silence.
+
+"No pay money!" he repeated. "All friend!"
+
+The two laid their hands on their hearts and stood smiling and bowing.
+For a moment Jim was nonplussed. He backed the _Barracouta_ out of
+earshot.
+
+"Well, what d'you think of the outlook?" asked Lane.
+
+"Don't like it, and I don't like them. Too much palaver! I've got 'em
+sized up. They're regular salt-water gipsies; I've heard of 'em before.
+They drift round from one place to another, fish a little, lobster a
+little, smoke a good deal, and drink more. They'd be worse than a
+pestilence on this island. Yes, sir! They've got to go! They know just
+as well as I do that they've no right to stop here; but they're going to
+bluff it through. They'll try to stave me off by pretending not to
+understand what I mean, but you noticed they were bright enough when
+money was mentioned."
+
+"What are you going to do about it?"
+
+"Tell 'em they've got to go!"
+
+"And if they won't?"
+
+"Send for the sheriff!"
+
+While the boys had been holding their council of war the two men had
+disappeared into their cabin, where they held an angry, but
+unintelligible, discussion. As Jim brought the _Barracouta_ once more
+alongside their heads quickly appeared. They were scowling blackly.
+
+"Will you pay rent?" demanded Jim.
+
+"No pay rent," came the defiant reply from both together.
+
+"Pull up your traps, then, and go!"
+
+"No go!" exclaimed the younger. "You go! We stay!"
+
+"That settles it," said Jim. "I'll send for the sheriff to-night, and
+have him here in the morning."
+
+He leaned over to start his engine. At his first movement the two
+dropped out of sight, but before he could rock the wheel they were up
+again, each holding a shot-gun. They leveled these weapons at the
+_Barracouta_.
+
+"No send for sheriff! No start engine!"
+
+Jim straightened up and the startled boys glanced at one another. The
+demonstration of hostility had come like a bolt from a clear sky. Things
+looked ugly. Again the younger man spoke.
+
+"S'pose you go for sheriff. We stay! Cut buoy! Sink boat! Burn cabin!
+Then go before you get back! How you like that, eh?"
+
+For once Jim was at a loss. What answer could be made to such an
+argument? The other noted his hesitation, and smiled triumphantly.
+
+"You let us alone, we let you alone! You trouble us, we trouble you. Now
+you go!"
+
+It was half a permission, half a command, backed by the leveled guns.
+Jim was on the point of starting the engine when Filippo interrupted
+him.
+
+"Misser Jim, let me talk to 'em," he begged in a low tone.
+
+Spurling glanced at him in surprise.
+
+"What for, Filippo? Are they countrymen of yours?"
+
+"Don't know! I see!"
+
+"Go ahead, then! It can't do any hurt."
+
+"Hi!" called out Filippo. "Listen! _Ascoltatemi!_"
+
+The two men started as if they had been shot; they fixed their gaze on
+Filippo. He began talking rapidly to them in Italian, gesturing freely.
+They replied in the same language. For fully ten minutes the heated
+dialogue continued. Jim and his mates listened in silence, now and then
+catching a word they had learned from Filippo, but not comprehending the
+drift of the debate.
+
+At last it was clear that some conclusion had been reached. Shaking
+their heads in disgust, the two sullenly restored their guns to the
+cabin. Filippo turned to Jim.
+
+"All right! They go to-night, after they pull traps. Now we start--right
+away!"
+
+Jim looked at the Italian in amazement; but he started the engine and
+the sloop forged out of the cove. Once in the passage, he broke silence.
+
+"How did you ever manage it, Filippo?"
+
+"I tell them your uncle own island; you hire it of him for summer. You
+lots of friends. If they no go, you send for sheriff right away. We too
+many for them. Guard cabin with gun till you get back. Sheriff come in
+night, while they sleep. Take them, take boat, take trap. Put them in
+jail. They break rock, work on road rest of summer. They not like that.
+They go!"
+
+"Good enough, Filippo! Guess you didn't strain the truth much. You
+certainly have got us out of an unpleasant hole. I'm free to say I was
+at my wits' end. Good thing for us we ran across you on the wharf at
+Stonington!"
+
+"Better thing for me!" answered Filippo.
+
+That evening after supper the boys stole silently through the woods to
+the northeastern end of the island. The Sly Hole was empty! The sloop
+had gone!
+
+Stepping out of the evergreens, Jim looked westward along the shore.
+
+"There they are!"
+
+The dory towing astern was piled high with traps.
+
+"Shouldn't wonder if they had some of ours among 'em!" exclaimed Jim.
+"No matter! We're getting rid of 'em cheap, if they scoop a dozen! But
+look at that! They've got all they want, and now they're cutting away
+our buoys! Here's where I call a halt!"
+
+He sprang out upon the bank in plain sight.
+
+"Hi, there! Stop that!"
+
+One of the men had just gaffed a buoy. At Jim's hail he glanced up and
+waved his hand nonchalantly. Then he deliberately cut the warp. The
+other man dropped into the cabin and reappeared with the two guns. Jim
+threw himself flat on his face.
+
+"Down, boys!" he cried.
+
+A hail of birdshot peppered the bluff and the woods behind it as both
+the double-barrels roared out in unison. One leaden pellet drew blood
+from the back of Jim's hand, while Throppy, a little slow in dropping to
+cover, was stung on the cheek. The others were untouched. Percy shook
+with fright and excitement. Lane was boiling with anger.
+
+"Let's take the _Barracouta_ and follow 'em!" he proposed.
+
+"Cool off, Budge!" laughed Jim. "That's just a parting salute. Besides,
+they've got two guns to our one. Let 'em go! And good riddance to bad
+rubbish! See! They're on their way now!"
+
+The sloop's head swung to the north and she filled away.
+
+"They've done what damage they've dared and they're gone for good.
+They'll be up at Isle au Haut to-night, either in Head Harbor or
+Kimball's Island Thoroughfare. Forget 'em!"
+
+"Lucky my temper isn't hitched up with your strength," said Lane.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+FISTS AND FIREWORKS
+
+
+Late on the afternoon of July 3d, when the morning's catch of eighteen
+hundred pounds of hake had been split and salted, Spurling called a
+council of war. Percy attended with the others. He had gone out with
+Budge in the morning to haul the lobster-traps; the rest of the day he
+had loafed, lying on the soft turf below the beacon on Brimstone Point
+and reading _The Three Musketeers_.
+
+Of the work that pleased him he had determined to do only as much as he
+liked, and not a stroke more. Lobstering was really attractive; there
+was enough novelty and excitement about it to keep him interested. When
+a pot came up it might contain no shell-fish or a half-dozen; the
+element of uncertainty appealed to his sporting instincts. But fishing
+he had stricken utterly from his list. It was too hard and too dirty.
+Slogging at the heavy trawls and afterward dressing the catch was too
+plebeian a business for the son of a millionaire.
+
+So he let the others tire their muscles and soil their hands and
+clothing while he attended strictly to the business of pleasing himself.
+He could not help being aware of a growing coolness on the part of his
+associates, but it gave him no concern. His month of probation was
+almost up, and he had decided that, come what might, he would leave at
+its end. Only a few days more, and this hard, monotonous island life
+would be behind him forever. He would send back a check to cover the
+expense of his board, and that would permanently close his relations
+with Spurling & Company.
+
+This resolve to pay for meals and lodging gave him a feeling of
+independence. Hence, though he knew the others did not care whether he
+attended or not, he felt himself entitled to a place at the council.
+
+The meeting took place on the beach in front of the cabin. Spurling and
+Stevens had just come from the _Barracouta_, their oilskin "petticoats"
+bearing gory evidence of their work for the last two hours.
+
+"Fellows," proposed Jim, "to-morrow let's celebrate! We can't set the
+trawls, for we haven't anything to bait up with. And even if we had, I
+don't believe in working on the Fourth. When I was at Matinicus the
+other day I saw a poster advertising a ball-game and big celebration at
+Vinalhaven. We'll have an early breakfast and run up there in the
+_Barracouta_. First, we'll go to Hardy's weir and take in a lot of
+herring for bait. Then we can slip round to Carver's Harbor and spend
+the rest of the day ashore. What d'you say?"
+
+There was no doubt regarding the vote.
+
+"The ayes have it!" shouted Spurling. "Now let's get everything in trim
+for day after to-morrow! We won't pull the traps again until then."
+
+Filled with enthusiasm at the prospect of a holiday, Budge, Throppy, and
+Jim dispersed to their various tasks. Yawningly, Percy returned to
+Brimstone Point and _The Three Musketeers_. After all, doing nothing on
+an island twenty-five miles out at sea was pretty dull work.
+
+The boys had an early supper and were soon asleep. Turning out at
+daybreak, they despatched a hearty meal of corn-bread and bacon.
+Everybody but Percy took hold with the dishes and helped tidy up the
+camp. Shortly after sunrise they were sailing out of the cove in the
+_Barracouta_.
+
+The trip in past Saddleback Light to Vinalhaven was uneventful. By eight
+o'clock they were lying alongside Hardy's weir, and its owner was
+dipping bushel after bushel of shining herring into the pen aboard the
+sloop. Before ten they were anchored off the steamboat wharf at Carver's
+Harbor.
+
+The town was in gala dress. Bunting streamed everywhere. Torpedoes,
+firecrackers, bombs, and revolvers rent the air with deafening
+explosions. The brass guns on two yachts in the harbor contributed an
+occasional salvo. As the boys rowed in to the shore the strains of "The
+Star-Spangled Banner" came floating over the water, and round the outer
+point appeared one of the small bay steamers, loaded with excursionists,
+including a brass band. On board also was the Camden baseball team,
+scheduled to play the opening game in the county league series with the
+home team that afternoon.
+
+Bedlam broke loose as the steamer made fast to the wharf and the crowd
+aboard streamed ashore. To Spurling and his friends, after three weeks
+of Tarpaulin Island, the narrow, winding street with its holiday crowd
+afforded the bustle and varied interest of a city. Even Percy deigned to
+allow himself to be tempted out of the sulky dignity which he had
+assumed since the council of the previous afternoon.
+
+The group scattered. Lane and Stevens wandered about town, taking in the
+sights and dodging the torpedoes and firecrackers of enthusiastic
+patriots of a more or less tender age. Spurling found an old 'longshore
+acquaintance from a visiting boat and went off aboard to inspect his new
+type of engine. Filippo struck up an eternal friendship with a
+fellow-countryman from the granite quarries on Hurricane. Percy, left to
+his own resources, invested in a new brand of cigarettes and promenaded
+back and forth along the main street, smoking and eying the passers-by
+superciliously.
+
+Noon found the restaurants packed with hungry excursionists; but the
+crowds were good-natured and everybody was able to get plenty to eat. At
+two o'clock there was a grand rush to the baseball-grounds.
+
+Spurling, Lane, and Stevens sat together in the front of the stand;
+Percy perched at the extreme right of the topmost row; while Filippo lay
+on the grass back of third base with his new-found, swarthy compatriot.
+
+Evidently there was some hitch about beginning the game. The Vinalhavens
+had taken the field for practice. The Camden team, bunched close
+together, were talking earnestly, meanwhile casting anxious glances
+toward the street that led to the water.
+
+The Vinalhaven scorer passed before the stand with his book.
+
+"What's the trouble?" asked Stevens.
+
+"Camden catcher and third-baseman haven't shown up. They started out
+with a party in a power-boat before the steamer. Engine must have broken
+down. Here it is time to call the game, and the visiting team two men
+short! And the biggest crowd of the season here! Can you beat that for
+luck?"
+
+The Camden pitcher separated himself from his companions and strolled
+toward the stand.
+
+"Anybody here want to put on a mitt and stop a few fast ones?" he
+inquired.
+
+"That means you, Jim!" said Lane. "Come on! Don't be too modest!"
+
+Spurling climbed out over the front of the stand.
+
+"I'll try to hold you for a little while," he volunteered.
+
+Soon he was smoothly receiving the pitcher's curves and lobbing them
+back. The combination went like clockwork. In the mean time the rest of
+the Camden team had taken the field and were warming up. The missing
+members had not yet appeared.
+
+"That'll do for a while," said the pitcher.
+
+The two drew to one side.
+
+"What team have you been catching on?" asked the Camden man, suddenly.
+
+"Graffam Academy."
+
+"I knew you must have traveled with a pretty speedy bunch. My name's
+Beverage."
+
+"Mine's Spurling."
+
+"Say, old man, I want you to do us a big favor. Catch this game for
+Camden, will you?"
+
+"I've been out of practice for over a month," objected Jim.
+
+"Never mind about that! I don't mean to flatter you, but we've got
+nothing in this league that can touch you. Come, now! As a personal
+favor to me!"
+
+"All right. I'll do my best."
+
+"Good for you! Now we've got to pick up a third-baseman!"
+
+Jim hesitated.
+
+"Our Academy shortstop is here," he said, slowly. "He can play a mighty
+good third at a pinch."
+
+"If he's willing, we'll take him on your say-so, and snap at the
+chance."
+
+Jim walked to the front of the stand.
+
+"You're signed for third for this game, Budge! I'm going to catch."
+
+"We've got a couple of spare suits," said Beverage. "Come on over to the
+hotel and change."
+
+In fifteen minutes Lane and Spurling were back on the field in Camden
+uniforms and the game had begun.
+
+The contest was a hot one. The teams were evenly matched, and the result
+hung in doubt up to the last inning. The crowd boiled with enthusiasm
+and the supporters of each team cheered themselves hoarse.
+
+In the middle of the fifth inning, when the excitement was running
+highest, a slim, bareheaded figure with a tow pompadour sprouting above
+a fog-burnt face leaped suddenly up at the right end of the top row in
+the stand.
+
+It was Percy. Exhilarated by the closeness of the game, he had forgotten
+his grudge against Spurling & Company. He flourished a roll of bills.
+
+"Two to one on Camden!" he shouted in a high-keyed voice.
+
+All heads turned his way. For a moment nobody spoke. Percy mistook the
+silence. He struck a theatric attitude.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Three to one! Are you afraid to support your home team?"
+
+A girl giggled. Two or three boys hooted. Then a short, dark, thick-set
+man in the second row whirled about and answered the challenger.
+
+"No," he said, deliberately. "We're not afraid to support our nine. If
+we were, it wouldn't be playing here to-day. We expect it to do its
+best. If it wins, it wins. If it loses, it loses. And that's all there
+is to it. Whatever dollars we have to put into baseball will go to meet
+the regular expenses of the team. We haven't any money to fool away in
+betting; and we don't care for any more second-hand talk from a
+half-baked youngster like you! You get me?"
+
+The crowd applauded uproariously. Pursued by the jeers and catcalls of
+the small fry, Percy sat down, his face, if possible, redder than
+before.
+
+Spurling caught an errorless game. It was Lane's bat in the last half of
+the ninth that finally drove in the winning run for Camden. Five to
+four.
+
+The crowd streamed noisily off the grounds. A knot of the younger
+element tried to heckle Percy, but he strode loftily by them, puffing
+his inevitable cigarette. Jim and Budge went to the hotel with the
+Camden team to change their suits.
+
+Beverage was jubilant over the victory.
+
+"It's a mean thing to say," he remarked; "but I'm glad that power-boat
+didn't get here. We owe the game to you two fellows. How much shall we
+pay you?"
+
+"Nothing," answered Jim. "We're paid already. We've enjoyed winning as
+much as you have."
+
+"Well, if you ever come to Camden, remember that you own the town."
+
+The boys decided to stop over for the early-evening celebration. The
+Vinalhavens were good losers, and the excursion steamer was not to start
+back until nine o'clock, so the town promised to be lively enough for
+the next few hours.
+
+Before it had grown very dark the streets began to blaze with fireworks.
+Percy's remarks of the afternoon still rankled in the minds of the
+junior portion of the residents, and, as he sauntered to and fro, he
+became the butt of many pointed jests. He ignored them all. Such
+trivialities were beneath the notice of a scion of the house of
+Whittington.
+
+It was his air of haughty superiority that got him into trouble. Tempted
+beyond endurance by his cool, insolent swagger, a small boy on the other
+side of the street discharged a Roman candle at him point-blank. One of
+the fiery balls struck his right side and dropped into the open pocket
+of his coat, starting a lively blaze. The garment got a smart
+scorching, and Percy's fingers were burnt and his feelings badly ruffled
+before he succeeded in extinguishing the conflagration.
+
+Singling out the offender among a group of boys dancing delightedly up
+and down, Percy made a sudden rush and pounced upon him like a hawk on a
+chicken. Holding him by the collar, he cuffed his ears soundly. The
+criminal wriggled and twisted, loudly and tearfully protesting his
+innocence.
+
+A stocky, freckled lad of about eighteen, with a close-cut head of brown
+hair, came out of a neighboring house on the run. His snub nose and
+projecting jaw suggested a human bulldog. He thrust his face close up to
+Percy's.
+
+"What're you maulin' my brother for?" he demanded, truculently.
+
+Percy dropped his victim, having finished chastising him. The latter
+rubbed his eyes and howled louder than ever.
+
+"I asked you why you were maulin' my brother," reiterated the newcomer
+in a still more belligerent tone.
+
+"Because he burned this hole in my coat," replied Percy, exhibiting the
+damaged garment.
+
+"I didn't do it!" howled the boy.
+
+"You hear that?" exclaimed the freckled lad, angrily. "He says he didn't
+and I say he didn't."
+
+"Well, I say he did!"
+
+"Do you mean to tell me I lie?"
+
+Percy became suddenly aware that a ring was forming round him. He cast a
+hasty glance about the lowering faces and recognized some of his
+would-be hecklers of the afternoon. No Tarpaulin Islanders were there.
+He was a stranger in a strange land. But the Whittington in him was up,
+and he did not blench. He faced his questioner.
+
+"If you say he didn't burn that hole--yes!"
+
+An indignant chorus rose from the group.
+
+"Did you hear that, Jabe? He called you a liar. I wouldn't stand that.
+Make him eat those words! It's the fresh guy who made the cheap talk at
+the ball-game. Soak him! Do him up!"
+
+Spurred on by these exhortations, Jabe dropped his head between his
+shoulders and came at his enemy with the rush of a mad bull.
+
+Percy was a good boxer. He had taken lessons from several first-class
+sparring-masters, and would have been no mean antagonist for anybody of
+his age and weight. But Jabe was a year older and fully twenty-five
+pounds heavier. Evidently, too, he had the abounding health and strength
+that come from life in the open. The odds against the city boy were
+heavy, but he stood up gamely.
+
+Jabe rushed in upon him and struck with all his might. Percy
+side-stepped, and the blow went harmlessly by, while his assailant's
+rush carried him to the other side of the ring. Whirling about with a
+cry of rage, he came back, swinging his arms like a windmill.
+
+"Now, Jabe! Now, Jabe!" rose the cry.
+
+Again Percy leaped aside, and his right arm shot out. The blow caught
+his foe fairly under the left ear, and he went sprawling; but he was
+down only for a moment. Springing to his feet, he hurled himself into
+the fray with redoubled fury. Again he was knocked down, and again he
+renewed the battle, with more strength than before.
+
+The fight could not last long. It was muscle against science, and in the
+end muscle won. Percy began to tire and to grow short of breath. He had
+smoked too many cigarettes to be able to keep up such a whirlwind pace
+for many minutes. Though he landed five blows to his enemy's one, the
+latter's one did more damage than his five.
+
+For the first time in the contest Jabe used his head. Hitherto he had
+struck straight for the mark each time. Now he feinted with his right
+for his foe's body. Percy dropped his guard somewhat wearily. Before he
+realized what was happening, Jabe's left, sent in with tremendous force,
+hit him a smashing blow squarely on the nose, knocking him over
+backward.
+
+It was the beginning of the end. Percy tottered up, blood spurting from
+his nose, his head spinning. He saw Jabe preparing for another rush and
+knew it would be the last one. He stiffened himself to receive the
+knock-out.
+
+A tall, broad-shouldered figure broke through the circle.
+
+"What's the trouble here?"
+
+It was Spurling's voice. His glance took in the situation.
+
+"That'll be about all," he said. "Come away, Whittington!"
+
+A bullet-headed, shirt-sleeved man bristled up defiantly. It was Jabe's
+father.
+
+"Guess we'll let 'em fight it out," he observed.
+
+His boy was winning.
+
+"No," said Jim. "It's gone far enough."
+
+"Not looking for trouble, are you?"
+
+"No," remarked Jim, easily. "I don't want any trouble with you, and you
+don't want any with me."
+
+The shirt-sleeved man glanced appraisingly at his square shoulders and
+strongly knit figure.
+
+"Right you are, George!" he laughed. "I don't want any trouble with you.
+You must be a mind-reader. You call off your dog and I'll call off
+mine."
+
+He grasped Jabe by the collar and jerked him backward. Jim dropped a
+compelling hand on Percy's shoulder.
+
+"Come on, Whittington! You ought to have brains enough to know you've
+been licked. It's time we started for Tarpaulin Island."
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+REBELLION IN CAMP
+
+
+Conversation lagged on the _Barracouta_ as she jogged smoothly over the
+starlit sea toward Tarpaulin Island. By the dim light of two lanterns,
+Jim, Throppy, Budge, and Filippo were busy baiting the trawls with
+herring and coiling them into the tubs in the standing-room. Percy had
+withdrawn from his companions and lay across the heel of the bowsprit on
+the decked-over bow.
+
+He had stanched the flow of blood from his nose, but it still pained
+him, and he was otherwise bruised and badly shaken by the buffets from
+Jabe's knobby fists. Judged by Percy's feelings, Jabe must have been all
+knuckles. Percy had to acknowledge that only Spurling's opportune
+appearance had saved him from being pounded unmercifully. But his pride
+had been injured far more than his physical body. It seemed improbable
+that he would ever see Jabe again, but he determined that some time,
+somewhere, and somehow the freckled lad should pay dearly for the slight
+he had put upon the house of Whittington.
+
+It was a few minutes past eleven when the sloop's engine stopped and she
+glided up to her mooring in Sprowl's Cove. Five sleepy boys tumbled into
+the dory and paddled ashore. The Fourth was over and the routine of
+workaday life would begin again for them early the next morning.
+
+Nemo dashed back and forth on the beach, barking a furious welcome and
+springing upon his masters indiscriminately. Unwittingly he leaped at
+Percy and in playful mood closed his teeth over the lad's right thumb,
+sprained and aching from the fight.
+
+"Get out, you cur!" exclaimed Whittington.
+
+He launched an aimless, vindictive kick in the general direction of the
+gamboling beast. As often happens with random blows, it went too true.
+Nemo ki-yied up the beach on three legs.
+
+"What are you about, Whittington?" burst out Lane, angrily. Among the
+entire five he was the fondest of the dog.
+
+Percy was ashamed and sorry that he had hurt the animal, but Lane's
+eruption of temper smothered his repentant feelings.
+
+"He bit my thumb," he muttered, sullenly.
+
+"You know well enough he was just in sport. Don't you kick him again!
+You hear me!"
+
+Percy mumbled an indistinct reply. As soon as the cabin was unlocked he
+turned into his bunk, without a word to anybody. For him the Fourth had
+been anything but a holiday.
+
+Before going to sleep, Spurling outlined their work for the morrow.
+
+"Throppy, you and I'll try our luck on Martingale Bank. It's only a
+half-mile northwest of the island, and sometimes you can get a big catch
+there. I've been saving it for a time like this. Budge, you and Percy
+ought to get at least a couple of hundred pounds out of those
+lobster-traps. They'll have been down two days and should yield some
+good-sized ones. Set the clock at four, Filippo! We'll be lazy for
+once."
+
+Percy's sleep was broken. He dreamed of being chased along the main
+street of Vinalhaven by a crowd of small boys shooting at him with Roman
+candles. He dodged into an open doorway, only to be driven out by a
+giant with Jabe's face and a half-dozen pairs of arms the fists of which
+were studded with a double allowance of knuckles. He was fast being
+pounded to a pulp when the alarm-clock went off. He woke in a cold
+sweat.
+
+Lying with closed eyes, he pretended to be asleep while Jim and Throppy
+finished a hasty breakfast. Soon the exhaust of the _Barracouta_
+proclaimed that they were on their way to Martingale Bank. Percy dozed,
+but remained conscious of Filippo's culinary operations.
+
+At five Lane turned out, according to schedule. He shook Percy
+vigorously.
+
+"Wake up, Whittington! Breakfast!"
+
+"Don't care for mine yet."
+
+"Aren't you going out with me to haul those traps?"
+
+"No!" retorted Percy, sourly.
+
+"Suit yourself!" was Lane's brief response.
+
+Percy knew that Budge would rather go without him. He heard him give a
+whistle as he examined Nemo's leg; the animal cringed and whimpered.
+
+"Poor fellow! Too bad!" sympathized Lane.
+
+The remark was evidently intended for Percy's ears. At least the lad
+took it so. He felt sorry if Nemo was really hurt. Lane went out, and
+Percy turned over for another nap. When he next woke it was almost seven
+and the cabin was empty. He got up and dressed leisurely.
+
+Looking out of the window, he saw Filippo digging clams on the flats
+across the cove. That meant chowder for dinner, a dish he particularly
+detested. He made a wry mouth and turned to the larder, but could
+discover nothing but some cold fish and fried potatoes. The fire had
+gone out, and he determined to await Filippo's return before
+breakfasting.
+
+Deliberately scratching a match, he lighted a cigarette, thereby
+breaking the rule against smoking in the cabin. Then he stretched
+himself out on his bunk and began reading _The Three Musketeers_.
+Filippo returned before he had finished his chapter. The Italian's eyes
+grew round at the tobacco smoke.
+
+"You know Misser Jim say no smoking!"
+
+"Mister Jim isn't here now. You mind your own business and I'll mind
+mine. Get me some breakfast, will you?"
+
+"Fire gone out while you sleep and everything grow cold. You bring some
+wood and I build another."
+
+To Percy's still overstrained nerves Filippo's way of putting the matter
+suggested a condition on which the meal depended rather than a request.
+
+"Bring it yourself!" he growled. "I'm no servant! I don't shag kindling
+for any Dago!"
+
+At this insult Filippo's olive cheeks became quite pale. Into his eyes
+flashed a look Whittington had never seen there before. For an instant
+he almost feared that the young foreigner was about to seize a knife
+and spring upon him. Then the look passed and Filippo's color came back.
+
+"All right!" he laughed. "No wood, no breakfast!"
+
+Stepping out to the fish-house, he began shelling the clams he had just
+dug. Percy vacillated between pride and hunger. Hunger won.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"I didn't mean that, Filippo," he repented. "I beg your pardon. I'll get
+the wood."
+
+He did, and Filippo heated up the fish and potatoes. Percy tried to
+engage him in conversation, but was able to extract only monosyllables
+in return. Evidently his hasty words still rankled in the Italian's
+breast.
+
+Breakfast over, Percy took his book and started for the beacon. It was a
+beautiful July morning. The sea rippled blue and sparkling to the
+horizon. Budge was hauling his traps on the ledges around the base of
+Brimstone. A half-mile farther out Jim and Throppy were busy at their
+trawls. Conditions for fishing could not have been more ideal.
+
+For a time Percy tried to read; but somehow Dumas's heroes failed to
+keep his interest. The sense of contrast between his own idleness and
+his mates' industry took all the pleasure out of his book. He tossed it
+aside and stood up. A motor-boat was rounding the eastern point. Percy
+recognized her as the _Calista_. Ordinarily he would have been glad to
+exchange chaff with Captain Higgins and Brad while they dipped the
+lobsters out of the car. This morning, however, he felt too much
+disgruntled to joke with anybody.
+
+A hawk with a flapping fish clutched in its talons scaled in from the
+south and disappeared among the evergreens. Percy suspected that there
+was a nest somewhere in the scrub growth. The search for it promised
+just enough of novelty to keep him interested. Making a detour around
+the north shore, so as to keep out of sight of Captain Higgins, he began
+hunting for the nest in the tops of the low trees.
+
+Two hours went by fruitlessly. It was hot and breathless in the close
+woods. Despite his dislike for clam chowder, Percy found himself
+growing hungry. At last he gave up the search in disgust, and started
+back for camp by the shortest route.
+
+As he emerged into the cool breeze on the summit of the high southern
+shore he saw that the _Calista_ still lay at anchor in the cove. Lane
+was alongside her in the pea-pod, while Jim and Throppy were rounding
+Brimstone Point in the _Barracouta_, with the dory in tow. The keenness
+of Percy's appetite made him careless of whether he was seen or not. He
+took the trail leading along the edge of the pasture. Directly below him
+the bank broke off in an abrupt dirt slope seventy-five feet high,
+overhung by a brow of sagging turf.
+
+Behind and above the cabin the slope was unusually steep. As Percy
+reached this point his eye was caught by a smoke-feather on the southern
+horizon. Steamers always interested him. Stopping, and shading his eyes
+with his hand, he gazed intently at the distant vessel. The _Barracouta_
+was now just entering the cove; the thudding of her exhaust echoed
+loudly against the barrier of earth beneath his feet.
+
+The rapid detonations, beating upon Percy's ear-drums, drowned until too
+late the quick pad-pad of hoofs from the opposite direction. Engrossed
+in watching the steamer, he had forgotten everything else. A nasal,
+threatening bleat, rising suddenly behind, roused him to a sense of
+danger. He whirled about.
+
+Charging straight at him, head down, only a few feet distant, old Aries,
+the ram, spurned the turf with drumming hoofs.
+
+Behind lay the treeless pasture; in front the bank fell away steeply.
+Instant flight along the trail was Percy's only resort. He turned to
+run.
+
+As he jammed his heel down hard to gain momentum for his start, the
+overhanging sod broke suddenly. His foot slumped, and before he could
+recover himself his foe was upon him.
+
+Biff!
+
+Struck from behind with the force of a battering-ram, Percy shot over
+the brink. As he fell he described a partial somersault, landing on
+hands and knees half-way down the slope. His momentum carried him heels
+over head, and he rolled and tumbled the rest of the way, bringing up in
+a heap at the bottom.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+He scrambled to his feet, wild with rage. Peals of mirth from the cove
+reached his ears. His mates and Captain Higgins, as soon as they saw
+that he was not seriously hurt, had doubled up with laughter. Their
+outburst of merriment increased Percy's fury.
+
+A triumphant bleat resounded above. Outlined clearly against a
+background of blue sky, legs well apart and hoofs braced stoutly, Aries
+stood on the brink, gazing proudly down upon his overthrown enemy.
+White with wrath, Percy groped for a stone and launched it viciously. It
+just grazed the ram's head. The laughter from the cove redoubled.
+
+A new idea struck Percy. Darting into the cabin, he ran out with Uncle
+Tom's shot-gun.
+
+"None of that, Whittington!" bellowed Spurling.
+
+Heedless of the shouted command, Percy clapped the gun to his shoulder
+and pulled first one trigger and then the other. Click! Click! Both
+barrels were empty. He might have remembered that so careful a fellow as
+Jim would never leave a loaded gun standing about. But there were a
+half-dozen shells in a box on the shelf. Laying the gun down, he rushed
+back into the cabin.
+
+Spurling realized what Percy was after. Springing into the dory, he
+sculled rapidly to the beach. He had almost reached the shore when
+Whittington dashed out of the door with the shells in his hands. He
+crammed two into the breech, while the ram gazed haughtily down upon
+him.
+
+"Put that gun down!" shouted Jim as the dory grounded and he leaped out
+on the beach.
+
+Up went the weapon to Percy's shoulder. His finger sought the trigger,
+but no report followed. The ram had vanished and the sky-line was
+unbroken.
+
+Before the exasperated lad could decide on his next step Jim was at his
+side, clutching at stock and barrel with strong hands.
+
+"Give it to me!"
+
+There was a short scuffle, and the gun was wrenched from Percy's grasp.
+
+"Let me alone, Spurling! I'll kill that brute before he's ten minutes
+older!"
+
+"Oh no, you won't!" replied Jim, coolly.
+
+Breaking open the weapon, he extracted the shells and dropped them into
+his pocket.
+
+"How many of these did you bring out?"
+
+"Never you mind!"
+
+"Oh, well, I know how many I had. I can count 'em. They're too dangerous
+to be lying around loose where a hothead like you can get hold of 'em."
+
+He took the gun into the cabin. In half a minute he was out again.
+
+"Two missing! Hand 'em over, Whittington!"
+
+"I won't!"
+
+Three steps, marvelously quick for so deliberate a fellow, brought
+Spurling to the other's side. An iron grip compressed Percy's shoulder.
+
+"Will you give 'em to me or shall I have to take 'em? Say quick!"
+
+The strong, unwavering grasp brought Whittington to his senses.
+Thrusting his hand into his pocket, he brought out the shells. "Here
+they are!"
+
+Jim bestowed them carefully inside his coat. His manner changed
+instantly.
+
+"Now, Percy," said he, "pull yourself together! I don't wonder you were
+sore at the ram. What you got was enough to rile anybody; it would have
+set me hunting rocks myself. But you'll have to draw the line a long way
+this side of a gun. You can't blame the brute; it's his nature. And you
+can't blame us for laughing--we couldn't help it; you'd do the same in
+our place. The thing's over now. Forget it! Let's eat a good dinner,
+and all take hold on the fish this afternoon. We've made a whopping big
+catch, not much under three thousand pounds, I should say--enough, at
+any rate, to keep us all busy till dark. Let's bury the hatchet, handle
+and all, so deep that it'll never be dug up again! Shake on it!"
+
+Whittington ignored Jim's outstretched hand. Trembling with humiliation
+and anger, he had all he could do to keep the tears from his eyes.
+Turning away without replying, he walked eastward along the beach to the
+ledges. He clambered over these until he gained a spot out of sight of
+the cove, then threw himself down to think. His hunger had disappeared;
+food would have choked him.
+
+There he lay till the middle of the afternoon, smoking moodily. When he
+returned to camp at three he had decided on his course of action.
+
+All the others were aboard the _Barracouta_, at work on the fish.
+
+Spurling hailed Percy. "Want to lend a hand, Whittington?"
+
+"No!" refused Percy, shortly.
+
+Entering the cabin, he made a dry lunch on cold biscuit and
+soda-crackers, then threw himself on his bunk and began reading. The
+afternoon dragged on. At five Filippo came in and began to peel potatoes
+and slice ham for supper; soon they were frying in the spider. The smell
+was pleasant in Percy's nostrils.
+
+Half an hour later in came the others, tired and hungry. The fish had
+been finished. All sat down at the table, Percy, uninvited, drawing up
+his soap-box with the rest. Nobody said anything to him, but he ate
+with a relish.
+
+The meal over, Spurling turned to him with a serious face. It was plain
+he had something of importance on his mind.
+
+"Whittington," said he, "I've been talking matters over with Budge and
+Throppy, and we're all agreed it's time we came to an understanding.
+Things can't go on in this way any longer. To put the matter in a
+nutshell, we can't afford to have you living off us and not working.
+You've got to do your share or quit. That's all there is to it."
+
+Percy reddened with wrath. Nobody but John P. Whittington had ever dared
+to speak like that to him before.
+
+"What do you mean by making such talk to me?" he demanded. "You needn't
+be afraid but you'll be well paid for every meal I've eaten in this old
+shack!"
+
+"That isn't the point at all," said Spurling. "I gave your father fair
+warning what it would be when you came out here. We're not running any
+Waldorf!"
+
+Percy gave a derisive laugh.
+
+"And that's no dream!" he interjected, sarcastically.
+
+Spurling paid no attention to the interruption.
+
+"We're out here for work," he continued. "That means you as well as
+everybody else. I didn't count on you for much, but you haven't done
+even that."
+
+"I've known for the last week you were trying to freeze me out,"
+observed Percy. "It's been cold enough about this camp to make ice."
+
+"Well, whose fault has it been?"
+
+"You treat that little Dago better than you do me!"
+
+"What of it? He's earning his salt, and a good deal more; and that's
+something your best friend couldn't accuse you of doing."
+
+Percy's temper was fast getting the better of him.
+
+"I'm not going to stop here to be kicked round by a bunch of Rubes like
+you," he snarled. "I won't stand for it any longer. I'll give you ten
+dollars to set me over on Matinicus to-night."
+
+There was a dangerous flicker in Spurling's eyes, but his voice was
+steady.
+
+"You can go, and welcome, on our next trip, day after to-morrow; but we
+can't break into our regular work to set you across."
+
+"No? Say twenty, then! And that's nowhere near what it'd be worth to me
+to be shut of you and your whole gang!"
+
+"I'm beginning to think I did wrong in stopping that fight at Vinalhaven
+yesterday. Guess you needed all you got and more, too!"
+
+In Percy's wrathful condition the reference to the pummeling he had
+received from Jabe came like a dash of acid in a raw wound. A flood of
+fury swept away his judgment.
+
+"You beggar!" he shouted. "You dollar-squeezer! I'll teach you to talk
+to me, you--!"
+
+He flung himself on Spurling with clenched fists.
+
+So sudden and unexpected was the onslaught that there was but one thing
+for Jim to do, and he did it, expeditiously and accurately. Percy went
+over backward and fell like a log. For a moment he lay motionless, then
+staggered up, feeling of his face.
+
+"What hit me?" he inquired, dazedly.
+
+"I did--right on the point of the jaw. Sorry I had to. Feel better?"
+
+Percy made no reply. Walking unsteadily to his bunk, he lay down. There
+was no violin-playing in the cabin that night.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+TURN OF TIDE
+
+
+At half past eight that night Camp Spurling was dark and quiet.
+Everybody was asleep but Percy Whittington. He lay in his bunk, wide
+awake and thinking hard, and his thoughts were far from pleasant.
+
+His face was still sore as a result of his battle with Jabe. His jaw
+ached dully from its encounter with Jim Spurling's fist. But worse than
+any physical pain was the smart of his wounded pride.
+
+Life in that cramped, tarry, fishy cabin was hard enough for a fellow
+who had lived at the best hotels and had the cream of everything. This
+painful wrenching of dollars out of the sea told sorely on his tender
+skin and undeveloped muscles. Yet beneath the surface he had enough of
+his father's stubbornness to make him stick doggedly to his lot,
+disagreeable though it was, if only he could have felt that he was
+receiving the consideration due to the son of John P. Whittington.
+
+Spurling's blow was the straw that had broken the camel's back. Percy
+had endured it just as long as he could. He had reached his limit.
+
+"I hate the whole bunch," he thought, bitterly. "Everybody's down on me,
+even to the dog. I won't stand it any longer. I'm going to get out
+to-night."
+
+His mind once made up, he promptly began planning. He decided to take
+one of the boats and row up to Isle au Haut. It was a good ten miles to
+Head Harbor, but he felt confident he could reach it long before
+daybreak. Leaving the boat there, he would tramp six miles up the island
+and catch the early steamer for Stonington. Beyond that his plans did
+not go.
+
+A flicker of light from the dying fire in the stove fell on the face of
+the alarm-clock ticking tinnily on the shelf. It was quarter to nine.
+
+Percy woke to the need of acting at once. At midnight Filippo would get
+up to make coffee and warm the baked beans and corn-bread for Spurling
+and Stevens, who were to start for the hake-grounds not far from one. By
+that time he must be miles away--too far, at any rate, to be overtaken.
+Overtaken? He smiled sardonically. Not one of them, he knew, would lift
+a finger to prevent him from going. He could just as well set out in the
+daytime. But his pride shrank from the relieved faces and grudging
+farewells that would signalize his departure. No; it would be far better
+to slip away by night, without saying anything to anybody. But his going
+must be unobserved. It would be humiliating to be detected.
+
+Cautiously he crept out of his bunk and pulled on his clothes, stopping
+apprehensively to listen for the regular breathing of his sleeping
+mates. But no one woke. The dying embers snapped in the stove. Nemo,
+slumbering on his canvas, stirred uneasily. Yet, so stealthy were
+Percy's movements, not even the dog's keen ears telegraphed them to his
+alert brain.
+
+A few minutes sufficed for the deserter to dress and crowd his more
+valuable belongings into a suit-case. Noiselessly he lifted the latch
+and stepped outside.
+
+It was a lovely summer night. A southwest breeze barely rippled the
+sheet of sapphire under the radiant stars. Tiny wavelets broke crisply
+on the pebbled beach. From the boulders that fringed the point came the
+drowsy murmur of the surf. A sheep bleated plaintively high above in the
+pasture; while far over the ocean to the south floated the faint, weird
+cry of a gull.
+
+The tide was more than half down, and dory and pea-pod lay high and dry
+on the shingle. The sloop rode at her mooring in the cove. Percy
+hesitated. Her engine would take him to Head Harbor in less than two
+hours, and save him a long, hard row. But no. Her absence would
+interfere seriously with pulling the trawls and lose Spurling & Company
+a good many dollars. Bitter though his feelings were, he did not wish to
+cause financial loss. He decided on the pea-pod.
+
+Ten feet of gravel lay between her stern and the water. Grasping her
+gunwale, Percy dragged her inch by inch gratingly down over the shingle,
+every sound magnified to his ears by his dread of discovery. He worked
+with the caution of an escaping convict. Now and then he glanced
+nervously toward the cabin, but from its gloomy interior came no sign
+that he was seen or heard. Apparently Spurling and his mates were
+sleeping the sleep of the dead. At the end of five minutes the pea-pod
+was afloat.
+
+Percy tossed in his suit-case and clambered hastily aboard. There was no
+time to waste. He wished to put as much salt water as possible between
+himself and Tarpaulin Island before midnight.
+
+Shipping his oars, he began to row, using infinite care lest creaking
+rowlock or splashing blade betray him. Gradually he drew out of the
+cove, and there was less need of caution. As he rounded Brimstone Point
+he cast one last, long look at the cabin, square and black and silent.
+
+The remembrance of his discomforts and indignities of the last three
+weeks surged over him. He shook his fist at his vanishing prison.
+
+"Good riddance!" he muttered. "Hope I'll never set eyes again on you or
+the bunch inside you!"
+
+He bent to his oars with redoubled vigor, and presently a high boulder
+shut out the camp. In five minutes more he had rounded the point and was
+pulling north on the heaving Atlantic swell.
+
+The tide was running out strongly. It came swirling round Brimstone in
+rips and eddies. Percy had never before realized that its force was so
+great. He made a hasty calculation, and was very unpleasantly surprised
+to discover that he would have to pull against it for fully ninety
+minutes ere it turned to run the other way. He began to feel less sure
+of reaching Head Harbor before daybreak.
+
+"Guess I've bitten off an all-night job," thought he, disconsolately.
+
+But there was no help for it--unless he desired to slink back to the
+camp he had just abandoned with such thief-like stealth. Percy set his
+teeth.
+
+"Not while I've got arms to pull with!"
+
+Before buckling to his task he glanced about. On his left rose the
+familiar shores of Tarpaulin. Miles to his right and almost due west the
+twin lights on Matinicus Rock twinkled faintly across the sea; while
+behind him, a little to the west of north, shone the single star of
+Saddleback, a good four leagues away. The dark-blue summer sky, unmarred
+by the slightest cloud-fleck, was brilliant with constellations.
+
+It was a night of nights for an astronomer or a poet, but Percy was
+neither. He had no eyes for the splendor that overhung him. Ten long,
+watery miles must be traversed before he could beach his pea-pod in the
+little haven behind Eastern Head. Would his arms stand the strain?
+
+His muscles were harder and stronger than they had been in the middle of
+June. Likewise, his grit had strengthened with his physique.
+
+"I'll make Head Harbor before light, if it kills me!"
+
+Turning, he scanned the starry sky, and by means of his scanty knowledge
+of astronomy identified the Great Dipper. Its pointers located the North
+Star. Under it he knew lay Isle au Haut, now a low, black ridge on the
+horizon, east of Saddleback Light.
+
+Percy settled himself on the thwart, steeled his muscles, and gripped
+the oars harder. Short as his inaction had been, he could see that the
+tide had swept him back a trifle. It was going to be no picnic, that
+pull in to Eastern Head!
+
+He threw all his strength into his arms, and again the boat made headway
+against the tide. By degrees Tarpaulin Island fell back. Before long it
+lay behind him--as he planned, forever. His anger still burned hot
+against Spurling and his associates.
+
+"Treated me like a dog, the beggars! Well, who cares for 'em? Let 'em
+sweat out their dollars catching fish and lobsters! I'll get my cash
+some easier way."
+
+The thought of money brought back the memory of his father, and with it
+a faint uneasiness. Up to this time, engrossed in making his escape,
+Percy had not troubled to look beyond the immediate future. Isle au Haut
+had bounded his mental as well as his optical horizon. But after that
+what?
+
+Stonington ... Rockland ... Boston ... New York ... two months of living
+on his acquaintances ... and then--John P. Whittington!
+
+Percy could picture the expression on the millionaire's features when he
+learned that his son had broken his promise and sneaked away from
+Tarpaulin Island, like a thief in the night. That grim face with its
+bulldog jaw was one any erring son well might dread, and particularly
+such a son as he had thus far been. John Whittington had told Percy
+plainly that the island was his last chance, and, whatever faults the
+millionaire might have, he was not the man to break his word.
+
+For the young deserter it was liable to be out of the frying-pan and
+into the fire with a vengeance.
+
+Percy had been in the frying-pan three weeks; life there, though not
+pleasant, had been endurable.
+
+At any rate, he had seen the worst of it; but for his wounded pride, he
+could have schooled himself to withstand its hardships, for they would
+have been only temporary.
+
+What the fire might have in store for him he did not know; but one thing
+he did know, and that was John P. Whittington!
+
+Not unimaginably, there might be far worse places than Tarpaulin Island.
+
+The lad's elation at his easily earned freedom vanished. The snap and
+vim went out of his strokes, and his speed slackened perceptibly. Though
+he still dragged doggedly at the oars, there was no longer any heart in
+his pulling.
+
+Westward, almost in line with the beacon on Matinicus Rock, grew a fairy
+pyramid of twinkling lights--the Portland boat, bound for St. John.
+Larger, higher, brighter, nearer, until they burned, a sparkling
+triangle of white and red and green. Soon the steamer crossed his bow
+not far to the north. He could hear the rush of foam and the throbbing
+of her screw. Gradually she passed eastward and blended again with the
+horizon.
+
+Slower and weaker fell Percy's blades, until the pea-pod was barely
+moving. The ebb, still running against the boat with undiminished
+strength, almost sufficed to hold her stationary. But, though the lad's
+muscles were relaxed and listless, a fierce battle was being fought out
+in his troubled brain.
+
+Should he keep on or should he go back?
+
+Go back? Return to two months more of the uncongenial drudgery from
+which he had been so glad to escape? Besides, he could hardly hope to
+drag the pea-pod up on the beach and regain his bunk without attracting
+the notice of somebody in the cabin. He could imagine the talk of the
+others when he was out of hearing.
+
+"Started to run away, but got cold feet and sneaked back again. Hadn't
+the sand to carry it through! We'd better sack him when the four weeks
+are up."
+
+His futile midnight sally would only result in added humiliation.
+
+But what if he kept on? Already more than an hour had passed. It would
+not be many minutes now before the tide would turn. The ebb would cease
+running out, and the flood would set just as strongly the other way,
+bearing him in toward Isle au Haut. To row with it would be an easy
+matter.
+
+Head Harbor before daybreak. Boston or New York the morning after. Two
+months or more of easy living in the same old way. After that the
+deluge, _alias_ John P. Whittington.
+
+Isle au Haut or Tarpaulin Island, which should it be? Beads of sweat
+started on Percy's face as he wrestled out his problem.
+
+Far more was involved than the mere question of going north or south. He
+had come to the parting of the ways. His whole life hung in the balance.
+Floating in that frail skiff on the uneasy swell, he realized that
+everything depended on the direction in which he swung the prow. His
+future lay in his oar-blades.
+
+Under the horizon north and west stretched the coast. He closed his eyes
+and saw a vision of the feverish city life he knew and loved so
+well--lighted streets thronged with gay crowds, human banks between
+which flowed rivers of velvet-shod automobiles and clanging cars; hotel
+lobbies and theaters and restaurants alive with men and women who had
+never stooped to toil; all the luxury and glare and glitter that wait
+upon modern wealth. This was what he was fitting himself for. What did
+it all amount to?
+
+He opened his eyes and came back to the little boat, rocking gently on
+the undulating swells; to the lonely glory of the peaceful ocean, arched
+by the starry sky. A light breeze was beginning to blow from the
+southwest, dispersing the thin silver mist that overhung the water.
+
+Percy glanced at his watch; it was quarter past ten, almost time for the
+ebb to cease and the flood to begin.
+
+Should he keep on or go back? He must decide quickly. Already his arms
+were tired, and he was more than two miles north of the island. The
+longer he delayed his decision the harder would be his pull against the
+flood if he turned.
+
+Minutes passed as he pondered, barely dipping his oars. It was slack
+tide now and the pea-pod just held her own. Down on the breeze floated a
+distant, melancholy note, the voice of the whistling buoy south of
+Roaring Bull Ledge, two miles from Isle au Haut. Was it an invitation or
+a warning?
+
+Slowly at first, then faster, the stern of the boat swung round. The
+tide had turned. The flood would carry him north with but little effort
+on his part. Should he let himself go with it?
+
+Percy's indecision vanished. The tide of his own life had turned, like
+that of the ocean; slow and doubtful though the change had been, the
+current was at last setting the other way. Grasping the oar-handles
+tightly, he whirled the head of the pea-pod southward and started again
+for Tarpaulin Island.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+PULLING TOGETHER
+
+
+The next hour and a half was anything but fun for young Whittington. His
+mind was set on reaching Camp Spurling before the hands of the
+alarm-clock came together at midnight. At any cost he must be in his
+bunk before the others woke.
+
+It was a long, hard row, a battle every second with the tide running
+against him with untiring strength. It demanded every ounce of energy
+Percy possessed. His back complained dully. His arms felt as if they
+would drop off. Time and again he decided that the next stroke must be
+his last, that he must lie down in the bottom of the boat and rest; but
+each time he tapped some hitherto unknown reservoir of power within
+himself, and kept on pulling.
+
+With the stern demand on his physical forces a change was being wrought
+in his brain. His foolish pride, his false sense of shame at changing
+his hasty plan to desert, his bitter feeling toward the others,
+gradually disappeared. Every oar-stroke brought him not only nearer the
+island, but also nearer a sane, wholesome view of life itself.
+
+His thoughts turned naturally to the group at the camp, this clean,
+independent, self-respecting crowd, who cared no more for his money than
+for the pebbles on the beach; who estimated a fellow, not by what he
+had, but by what he was. After all, that was the real test; Percy could
+not help acknowledging it.
+
+Saddleback glimmered astern. The whistle south of Roaring Bull was
+growing fainter. Percy felt encouraged. He turned his head. Yes,
+Tarpaulin was certainly nearer. Disheartening though the pull was, he
+had gained perceptibly. But the southwest breeze had stiffened, adding
+its opposition to that of the tide.
+
+It was now past eleven. He had decided that he must reach the cabin not
+later than quarter to twelve. Barely half an hour longer! His hands were
+blistered, his breath came in sobs, but he dragged fiercely at the oars.
+At last he was stemming the strong tide-rip off Brimstone Point.
+
+The next ten minutes were worse than all that had gone before. As he
+surged unevenly backward and forward, the current swung the pea-pod's
+bow first one way, then the other. Deaf and blind to everything but the
+work in hand, Percy swayed to and fro. Foot by foot the boat crept round
+the fringing surf at the base of the bluffs.
+
+Hands seemed to be plucking at her keel, holding her back. It was no
+use. They were too strong for him. All at once their grasp weakened. He
+glanced up with swimming eyes. He had passed the eddy, and the entrance
+of the cove was near. A few strokes more and the pea-pod grounded on the
+beach. It was twenty minutes to twelve!
+
+Percy staggered up to the cabin. All was dark and quiet. Gently lifting
+the latch, he slipped inside, pulled the door to again, and stood
+listening. The regular breathing of his sleeping mates reassured him.
+Compelling himself to walk noiselessly to his bunk, he crept under his
+blanket without even taking off his shoes.
+
+He had been gone three hours; and they had been the most momentous hours
+of his life.
+
+_Kling-ng-ng-ng-ng ..._
+
+Off went the clock. It was midnight. Muttering drowsily, Filippo slid
+out of his bunk, checked the alarm, and lighted a lamp. Then he busied
+himself with his cooking-utensils.
+
+The last thing Percy heard was a spoon clinking against a pan. Dead
+tired, he turned his face to the wall and fell asleep.
+
+It was eight in the morning before he woke. What had made his arms and
+back so lame and raised those big blisters on his hands? Percy
+remembered. He lay for a few minutes, his eyes shut. An unpleasant duty
+was before him, and he must be sure to do it right.
+
+Aching in every joint, he rolled out at last and stood up stiffly.
+Filippo, who was washing the breakfast dishes, turned at the sound. His
+face was neither hostile nor friendly.
+
+"Your breakfast in oven," said he. "Sit down and I get it."
+
+He set before Percy a plate of smothered cod and a half-dozen hot
+biscuits. It was more thoughtfulness than Percy had expected.
+
+"Much obliged, Filippo," he said, gratefully.
+
+Filippo made no reply to this acknowledgment; but, as Percy ate, he
+could feel the young Italian watching him curiously. It was the first
+time Whittington had ever thanked him, and he did not understand it.
+
+After he had finished eating, Percy took his plate, knife, and fork to
+the sink.
+
+"Let me wash these, Filippo," he said.
+
+"No," returned the Italian, "I do it."
+
+But a look of surprise crossed his face. What had come over the
+millionaire's son?
+
+Percy spent the rest of the forenoon on the ledges. At noon he came back
+to the cabin. He had steeled himself for the task before him, and he was
+not the fellow to do things half-way. The John P. Whittington in him was
+coming out.
+
+Everybody else was in camp when he stepped inside. Lane did not look at
+him at all. Spurling and Stevens nodded coolly. Percy drew a long breath
+and launched at once into the brief speech he had spent the last three
+hours dreading.
+
+"Fellows," he stammered, "I've been pretty rotten to all of you. There's
+no need of wasting any more words about that. Last night I took one of
+the boats and started to row up to Isle au Haut. But I got to thinking
+matters over out there on the water, and it changed my mind about a lot
+of things. So I came back. Jim, I want to apologize to you for what I
+said last night. I deserved what you gave me, and it's done me good. I
+want to stay here with you for the rest of the summer--if you're
+willing. I'll try to do my full share of the work. You can send me off
+the first time I shirk."
+
+He ceased and awaited the verdict, looking eagerly from one to the
+other. There was a moment of silence. Surprise was written large on the
+faces of the three Academy men. Then Spurling stepped forward and held
+out his hand.
+
+"Percy," said he, with a break in his voice, "I've always thought you
+had the right stuff in you, if you'd only give yourself half a chance.
+For one, I'll be more than pleased to have you stop. What do you say,
+boys?"
+
+He glanced toward Lane and Stevens.
+
+"Sure!" exclaimed Lane, heartily; and Stevens seconded him.
+
+The boys shook hands all round; and they sat down to the table with good
+appetites. Everybody enjoyed the meal.
+
+"Boys," said Jim as they got up at its close, "this is the best dinner
+we've had since we came out here."
+
+Percy's heart warmed toward the speaker. He knew that it was not the
+food alone that made Jim say what he did.
+
+It had been Percy's habit to smoke three or four cigarettes during the
+half-hour of rest all were accustomed to take after the noon meal. He
+went, as usual, to his suit-case, and this time took out, not merely one
+package, but all he had, including his sack of loose tobacco and two
+books of wrappers.
+
+"Got a good fire, Filippo?" he inquired, approaching the stove.
+
+A burst of flame answered him as he lifted the cover. In went the whole
+handful. He watched it burn for a moment before dropping the lid.
+
+"I'm done with you for good," he said.
+
+As Lane and Spurling started for the _Barracouta_ to dress the fifteen
+hundred pounds of hake they had taken off the trawls that morning Percy
+joined them, clad in oilskins.
+
+"Jim," he petitioned, "I want you to teach me how to split fish."
+
+"Do you mean it, Percy?" asked Spurling.
+
+"You heard what I said this noon about shirking. I'm through with
+dodging any kind of work just because it's unpleasant. I want to take my
+part with the rest of you."
+
+"I'll teach you," said Jim.
+
+He did, and found that he had an apt pupil. Percy worked until the last
+pound of the fifteen hundred was salted down in the hogshead. He
+discovered that it was not half so bad as it had looked, and felt
+ashamed that he had not tried his hand at the trick before.
+
+"You've earned your supper to-night," observed Jim.
+
+"Yes; but I'm glad it's something besides fish."
+
+"You'll get so you won't mind it after a while."
+
+That night Throppy played his violin and the boys sang. They passed a
+pleasant hour before going to bed.
+
+"I'd like to go out with you to the trawls, Jim, to-morrow morning,"
+said Percy.
+
+"Glad to have you," responded Spurling, heartily.
+
+Two hours before light they were gliding out of the cove in the
+_Barracouta_, bound for Medrick Shoal, four miles to the eastward.
+
+"Percy," said Jim as the sloop rolled rhythmically on the long Atlantic
+swells, "I want to tell you something. I was awake the other night when
+you left camp. I watched you row north and come back; and I saw the
+hard fight you had round Brimstone. I'm glad you made a clean breast of
+the whole thing, even when you thought nobody knew anything about it. It
+showed me you intended to turn over a new leaf and play fair. You'll
+find that we'll meet you half-way, and more."
+
+Percy was silent for a moment.
+
+"Glad I didn't know you heard me go out," he remarked. "If I had I might
+not have had the courage to come back. Well, I've learned my lesson.
+From now on I'll try not to give you fellows any reason to find fault
+with me."
+
+Medrick Shoal yielded a good harvest. About eighteen hundred pounds of
+hake lay in the pens on the _Barracouta_ when they started for home at
+ten o'clock. As they took the last of their gear aboard, a schooner with
+auxiliary power, apparently a fisherman, approached from the eastward.
+
+"The _Cassie J._," read Spurling, deciphering the letters on the bow.
+"Somehow she looks natural, but I don't remember ever hearing that name
+before. Probably from Gloucester. Wonder what she wants of us."
+
+The vessel slowed down and changed her course until she was running
+straight toward the _Barracouta_. One of her crew stood in the bow, near
+the starboard anchor; another held the wheel; but nobody else was
+visible.
+
+"Where are you from, boys?" hailed the lookout, when the stranger was
+only a few yards off.
+
+"Tarpaulin Island," answered Spurling.
+
+The man put his hand behind his ear.
+
+"Say that again louder, will you?" he shouted. "I'm a little deaf."
+
+Jim raised his voice.
+
+"I said we were from Tarpaulin Island."
+
+The lookout passed the word back to the helms-man. The latter repeated
+it, evidently for the benefit of somebody in the cabin. Then the man at
+the wheel took up the conversation, prompted by the low voice of an
+unseen speaker below.
+
+"How many fish have you got there?"
+
+"Eighteen hundred of hake."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+Was everybody aboard hard of hearing? Jim raised his voice.
+
+"Eighteen hundred of hake!"
+
+"What'll you take for 'em just as they are? We'll give you fifty cents a
+hundred."
+
+"Can't trade with you for any such figure as that."
+
+"Good-by, then!"
+
+The tip of the _Cassie J.'s_ bowsprit was less than two yards from the
+port bow of the _Barracouta_, altogether too near for comfort.
+
+"Keep off!" roared Spurling. "You'll run us down!"
+
+The steersman whirled his wheel swiftly in the apparent endeavor to
+avert a collision. Unluckily, he whirled it the wrong way. Round swung
+the schooner's bow, directly toward the sloop. A few seconds more and
+she would be forced down beneath the larger vessel's cutwater, ridden
+under.
+
+Only Jim's coolness prevented the catastrophe. The instant he saw the
+_Cassie J._ turn toward his boat he flung his helm to port. The sloop,
+under good headway, responded more quickly than the schooner. For a
+moment the bowsprit of the latter seesawed threateningly along the
+jibstay of the smaller craft. Then the two drew apart.
+
+Jim was white with anger. It was only by the greatest good fortune that
+the _Barracouta_ had escaped.
+
+"What do you mean, you lubber?" he cried. "Can't you steer?"
+
+"Jingo! but that was a close shave!" responded the man at the wheel. "I
+must have lost my head for a minute."
+
+The mock concern in his face and voice would have been evident to
+Spurling without the lurking grin that accompanied his reply. An angry
+answer was on the tip of Jim's tongue. He choked it down. Soon the two
+craft were some distance apart.
+
+On the _Cassie J._ a man's head rose stealthily above the slide of the
+companionway. He fastened a steady gaze on the sloop. The distance was
+now too great for the boys to distinguish his features, but a sudden
+idea struck Jim. He slapped his thigh.
+
+"Percy!" he exclaimed. "Do you remember the two fellows we caught
+stealing sheep the first night we were on Tarpaulin? I feel sure as ever
+I was of anything in my life that they're both on board that schooner.
+That's Captain Bart Brittler, sticking his head out of the companionway;
+and Dolph's somewhere below."
+
+"But what are they doing on the _Cassie J._? Their vessel was named the
+_Silicon._"
+
+"They're one and the same craft! I'm certain of it. I recognize her rig
+now, even if it was night when I saw her the first time. As for the
+name, it's only paint-deep, anyway; you can see that those letters look
+fresh. Of course it's an offense against the law to make a change, but
+such a little thing as breaking a law wouldn't trouble a man like
+Brittler."
+
+"Do you think they tried to run us down?"
+
+"Not a doubt of it! Brittler and Dolph stayed below, afraid we might
+recognize 'em. They didn't see our faces that night, so they don't know
+how we look; but they tried to make me talk enough so that they might
+recognize my voice. Guess that lookout's not so deaf as he pretended to
+be! Once Brittler felt sure who it was, he gave orders to the wheelman
+to run over us. He'd have done it, too, if I hadn't seen the schooner's
+bow start swinging the wrong way."
+
+The _Cassie J._ slowly outdistanced the sloop. By the time the stranger
+was a quarter-mile off six or seven men had appeared on her deck.
+
+"Feel it's safe for 'em to come up now," commented Spurling. "Wonder
+what they're cruising along the coast for, anyway! Something easier and
+more crooked than fishing, I guess! Here's hoping they steer clear of
+Tarpaulin!"
+
+At dinner that noon the boys related their narrow escape to the others,
+and all agreed it would be well to keep a sharp lookout for Brittler and
+his gang.
+
+"They've got a grudge against us, fast enough," said Lane. "They intend
+to even matters up if they can find the chance."
+
+That afternoon Percy again wielded the splitting-knife.
+
+"You'll soon get the knack of it," approved Jim. "Don't pitch in too
+hard at first. Later on, after you grow used to it, you can work twice
+as fast, and it won't tire you half so much."
+
+In dressing a fifteen-pound hake Percy came upon a mass of feathers in
+the stomach. He was about to throw them aside, when a silvery glint
+caught his eye.
+
+"What's that?" he exclaimed.
+
+Rinsing the mass in a pail of water, he picked from it the foot of a
+bird; round its slender ankle was a little band of German silver or
+aluminum, bearing the inscription, "U43719." He held it up for the
+others to inspect.
+
+"That's the foot of a carrier-pigeon!" said Throppy. "I know a fellow at
+home who makes a specialty of raising 'em. The bird that owned this foot
+was taking a message to somebody. Perhaps he was shot; or he may have
+become tired, lost his way, and fallen into the water, and the hake got
+him."
+
+They looked at the little foot with the white-metal band.
+
+"My uncle Tom was fishing once in eighty fathoms off Monhegan," Spurling
+remarked, "and pulled up an odd-patterned, blue cup of old English ware.
+The hook caught in a 'blister,' a brown, soft, toadstool thing, that had
+grown over the cup. He's got it on his parlor mantel now."
+
+"I'll keep this foot as a souvenir," said Percy.
+
+They finished the hake shortly after four. Percy shed his oil-clothes,
+went into the camp, and reappeared with his sweater. Going down to the
+ledges, he pulled off a big armful of rockweed. This he stuffed into
+the sweater, and tied it together, making a close bundle. The others
+watched him curiously.
+
+"What are you going to do with that?" inquired Lane.
+
+Percy smiled, but there was a glitter of determination in his eyes.
+
+"I'll tell you some time," was all the reply he vouchsafed.
+
+Taking the bundle, now somewhat larger than a football, he climbed the
+steep path at the end of the bank, and started for the woods.
+
+"I'll be home before supper," he flung back as he disappeared beyond the
+crest of the bluff.
+
+In less than an hour he was back, bringing the sweater minus the
+rockweed. His face was flushed, and streaked with lines where the
+perspiration had run down it, and he was breathing hard. Evidently he
+had been through some sort of strenuous physical exercise.
+
+"It's all right, boys," he said, in response to their chaffing. "Just a
+little secret between me and myself. No, I'm not trying to reduce the
+size of my head. Later on you'll know all about it."
+
+And with that they had to be content.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+FOG-BOUND
+
+
+Dog-Days began about the 20th of July. Before that the dwellers in Camp
+Spurling had experienced occasional spells of fog, but nothing very
+dense or long-continued. Now they got a taste of the real thing. They
+were dressing fish on the _Barracouta_ one afternoon when a cold wind
+struck from the southeast.
+
+Spurling held up his hand.
+
+"We're in for it!" said he. "Feel that? Right off the Banks! In less
+than an hour we'll need a compass to get ashore in the dory."
+
+He was so nearly right that there was no fun in it. The wind hauled more
+to the east, and in its wake came driving a gray, impenetrable wall. The
+ocean vanished. The points on each side of the cove were swallowed up.
+Quickly disappeared the cove itself, the beach, the camp and fish-house,
+and the bank beyond them. The sloop was blanketed close in heavy mist.
+
+Jim made a pretense of scooping a handful out of the air and shaping it
+like a snowball.
+
+"Here you go, Budge!" he exclaimed. "Straight to third! Put it on him!
+Fresh from the factory in the Bay of Fundy! If this holds on until
+midnight, we won't be able to see outside our eyelids when we start
+trawling; there's no moon."
+
+"Will you go, if it's thick as it is now?" inquired Lane.
+
+"Sure! Here's where the compass comes in. If we stayed ashore for every
+little fog-mull, we wouldn't catch many hake the next six weeks. This
+isn't a circumstance to what it is sometimes. I've known it to hang on
+for two weeks at a stretch. Ever hear the story of the Penobscot Bay
+captain who started out on a voyage round the world? Just as he got
+outside of Matinicus Rock he shaved the edge of a fog-bank, straight up
+and down as a wall. He pulled out his jack-knife and pushed it into the
+fog, clean to the handle. When he came back, two and a half years later,
+there was his knife, sticking in the same spot. He tried to pull it out,
+but the blade was so badly rusted that it broke, and he had to leave
+half of it stuck in the hole."
+
+"Must have had some fog in those days!" was Lane's comment. "Did you say
+this all comes from the Bay of Fundy?"
+
+"Not all of it. Fog both blows and makes up on the spot. Sometimes it
+rises out of the water like steam. I've heard my uncle say that Georges
+Bank makes it as a mill makes meal. It's worst in August. Then the smoke
+from shore fires mingles with it; and the wind from the land blowing
+off, and that from the sea blowing in, keep it hazy along the coast all
+summer."
+
+Jim's predictions proved correct, as they generally did. While there
+were occasional stretches of fine weather during the next few weeks, the
+fog either hovered on the horizon or lurked not far below it, ready to
+bury the island at the slightest provocation in the way of an east or
+southeast wind. Despite its presence, the routine of trawling and
+lobstering went on as usual. Every Friday came the regular trip to
+Matinicus to dispose of the salted fish and procure groceries, gasolene,
+and salt, as well as newspapers and mail.
+
+On each of these visits Percy always weighed himself on the scales at
+the general store. Beginning at one hundred and thirty-five, he climbed
+steadily, pound by pound, toward one hundred and fifty. An active,
+out-of-door life, combined with regular hours and a simple, wholesome
+diet, together with the exclusion of cigarettes, resulted inevitably in
+increasing weight and strength. At the close of each afternoon he
+climbed the bluff with his sweater stuffed with rockweed. The others
+joked him considerably about these mysterious trips, but failed to
+extract any information from him regarding them. When he chose, Percy
+could be as close-mouthed as his father.
+
+At about this time a letter from the millionaire reached his son through
+the Matinicus office. It bore the postmark of San Francisco, and ran as
+follows:
+
+    DEAR PERCY,--Stick to it.
+
+    Affectionately,
+
+    JOHN P. WHITTINGTON.
+
+It actually surprised Percy to find out how glad he was to receive this
+laconic epistle from his only living relative. He cast about for a
+suitable reply.
+
+"I want to send something that'll please him," he thought. "He hasn't
+had much satisfaction, so far, out of me."
+
+Finally, after mature deliberation, he indited the following:
+
+    DEAR DAD,--I'm sticking.
+
+    Your affectionate son,
+
+    PERCY.
+
+_The Three Musketeers_ gathered dust on the wooden shelf. Percy had
+faced squarely the fact of his college conditions, and had determined
+that they must be made up at the opening of the fall term; so his spare
+time went into Virgil and Cæsar and algebra and geometry, instead of
+being spent on Dumas. He rarely asked for assistance from the others;
+they had little leisure, and it was his own fight. He buckled down
+manfully.
+
+Another task that he set before himself was the establishment of cordial
+relations with the other members of the party. He realized that his own
+fault had made this necessary. It had been an easy matter to get on good
+terms with Jim, Budge, and Throppy. With Filippo it was a little harder;
+but soon he, too, thawed out when he found that Percy treated him
+courteously and was willing to do his share of the camp work. Even Nemo
+wagged his tail when Percy appeared, and the crow grew tame enough to
+eat fish out of his hand.
+
+One afternoon, when the fog had lifted sufficiently to make it possible
+to see a few hundred feet from the island, a motor-boat unexpectedly
+appeared from the north and swung round Brimstone Point into the cove.
+She ran up alongside the _Barracouta_, where the boys were baiting their
+trawl.
+
+"I'm the warden," said one of the two newcomers, a gray-mustached,
+keen-eyed man. "I've come to look over your car."
+
+Jim took his dip-net and stepped into the motor-boat, and they ran up to
+the lobster-car. A few minutes' investigation of its contents satisfied
+the official that it contained no "shorts."
+
+"Glad to be able to give you a clean bill of health," said he as he set
+Jim back on board the sloop. "I wish some other people I know of did
+business as clean and aboveboard as you young fellows."
+
+A quarter-hour later the sound of his exhaust had died away in the fog
+to the northward.
+
+"What would he have done if he'd found any 'shorts'?" asked Percy.
+
+"Fined us a dollar for every one," answered Jim. "Taken the cream off
+the summer, wouldn't it? Sometimes it pays, even in dollars and cents,
+to be honest."
+
+The next morning was hot and muggy. The sea about the island was clear
+of fog for one or two miles. Jim and Budge had started long before light
+to set the trawl, and Throppy wished to make some changes on his
+wireless; so Filippo was glad enough of the chance to go out with Percy
+to haul the lobster-traps.
+
+The little Italian had lost much of his melancholy. He enjoyed his work
+and the good-fellowship of the camp. The weeks of association with his
+new friends had made of him an entirely different fellow from the
+lonely, homesick lad they had picked up on the steamboat wharf at
+Stonington.
+
+The two boys started in the pea-pod at six o'clock. A glassy calm
+overspread the sea. Even the perpetual ocean swell seemed to have lost
+much of its force.
+
+"I'll row!" volunteered Percy.
+
+He stripped off his oil-coat and sweater and rolled up his
+shirt-sleeves.
+
+"It'll be hot up in the granite quarries to-day, hey, Filippo? S'pose
+you're sorry not to be there?"
+
+"_Io sono contento_" ("I am satisfied"), replied the Italian.
+
+Hauling and rebaiting the hundred-odd traps was a good five hours' job
+and more for the couple, neither of whom had ever handled a small boat
+or seen a live lobster before the previous month. As the forenoon
+advanced the air seemed to grow thicker and more breathless. Over the
+water brooded a languid haze, through which the sun rays burned with a
+moist, intense heat.
+
+Percy's bare arms began to grow red and painful.
+
+"Feel as if they were being scalded," he complained. "I've heard Jim say
+a fog-burn was worse than any other kind. Now I know he's right."
+
+Eleven o'clock, and still twenty-five traps to be pulled. Most of these
+were on the Dog and Pups, a group of ledges more than a mile northeast
+of the island. It was the best spot for lobsters anywhere about
+Tarpaulin. Percy hesitated.
+
+"Fog seems to be closing in a little," he observed, "and we haven't any
+compass. Should hate to get out there and have it shut down thick.
+Might be hard work to find the island again."
+
+He glanced at the tub of lobsters.
+
+"If the Dog and Pups keep up anywhere near their average, we'll beat the
+record. What d'you say, Filippo? Shall we take a chance and surprise the
+rest of 'em?"
+
+Filippo flashed his white teeth.
+
+"I go with you," he smiled.
+
+"Then go it is!" decided Percy.
+
+He headed the pea-pod for the Dog and Pups.
+
+"We'll keep a sharp lookout, and if it starts to grow anyways thick
+we'll strike back for old Tarpaulin."
+
+A pull of about twenty minutes brought them to the ledges, around which
+the traps were set in a circle. They began hauling at the point in the
+circumference nearest to the island, following the buoys west and north.
+The catch exceeded their hopes.
+
+"We'll need another tub, if this keeps up," chuckled Percy.
+
+Filippo laughed jubilantly. The fog was forgotten. Their entire
+attention was centered on the contents of each trap as it was pulled.
+
+Round on the edge of the circle farthest from the island a pot refused
+to leave bottom. Percy tugged till he was red in the face, but he could
+not start it.
+
+"Catch hold with me, Filippo!" he puffed.
+
+The Italian joined his strength to Percy's, but to no avail. The slacker
+still clung to the bottom. The boys straightened up, panting.
+
+"We'll have to leave it," acknowledged Percy, disappointedly. "Probably
+there's half a dozen two-pound lobsters in it."
+
+He looked about and gave a startled cry.
+
+"Where's the island?"
+
+The wooded bluffs of Tarpaulin had disappeared. While they had been
+wrestling with the stubborn trap the fog had stolen a march on them. On
+all sides loomed a horizon of gray mist, not a half-mile distant and
+steadily drawing nearer. They must locate the island and get back to it
+at once.
+
+Percy tossed over the buoy and the warp at which they had been pulling.
+Tarpaulin lay southwest; but which way was southwest? Busied with the
+trap, he had utterly lost all sense of direction. The sun? He glanced
+hopefully up. No; that would not help any. The fog was too dense. Ha!
+The surf?
+
+"Listen hard, Filippo!" he exhorted.
+
+They strained their ears. No sound. The swell was so gentle that it did
+not break on the ledges of the island loudly enough to be heard a mile
+and a quarter off. The heaving circle of which they were the center was
+contracting fast. Its misty walls were now less than five hundred feet
+away.
+
+"Guess we'd better take a buoy aboard, and hang to it till Jim comes out
+to hunt us up. It'd make me feel cheap to do it, but it's the only safe
+way. But wait! What's that?"
+
+Both listened again. A sound reached their ears, plain and unmistakable,
+the rote of dashing water.
+
+"There's the surf!" rejoiced Percy. "Don't you hear it?"
+
+"_Si_, I hear it," answered Filippo.
+
+Dropping the buoy he had just gaffed, Percy took the oars and began
+rowing hard toward the sound, which gradually grew louder. The fog came
+on with a rush, sliding over them like an avalanche. It was hardly
+possible to see beyond the tips of the oar-blades.
+
+"Lucky we can hear that surf!" said Percy, comfortably. "But strange it
+sounds so loud and so near."
+
+Now it was close ahead. He stopped rowing, puzzled. A blast of cold air
+smote them. Suddenly there was a rushing all around. It was not the surf
+at all, but waves, breaking before the coming wind. They were lost in
+the fog!
+
+Percy faced Filippo blankly. For a moment his head went round. With
+bitter regret he now realized that in dropping the buoy he had given up
+a certainty for an uncertainty that might cost them dearly. But nothing
+was to be gained by yielding to discouragement. He reviewed his scanty
+stock of sea lore.
+
+"That wind is probably blowing from some point between northeast and
+southeast. If we turn around, and run straight before it, we'll be
+likely to hit the island."
+
+He swung the pea-pod stern to the breeze.
+
+"Here goes! Watch out sharp for lobster-buoys, Filippo!"
+
+But no buoys appeared. They might pass within ten feet of one and never
+see it. Five, ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed; and still no sign of
+Tarpaulin. The wind was becoming stronger, the waves higher; their
+rushing was now loud enough to drown the sound of any surf that might be
+breaking on the ledges of the island. Percy rowed for a quarter-hour
+longer, dread plucking at his heart-strings. At last he rested on his
+oars.
+
+"We've missed it," he acknowledged, despondently.
+
+They were lost now in good earnest. It was one o'clock. The fog hung
+over them like a heavy gray pall, so damp and thick that it was almost
+stifling. Percy turned the pea-pod bow to the wind and began rowing
+again.
+
+"We must try to hold our own till it clears up," he observed, with
+attempted cheerfulness.
+
+But his tones lacked conviction. It might not clear for two or three
+days. By degrees his strokes lost their force, until the oars were
+barely dipping. The boat was going astern fast.
+
+Two o'clock. Long ere this Jim and Budge must have returned from
+trawling and realized that the pea-pod and its occupants were lost. They
+were probably searching for them now, perhaps miles away on the other
+side of the island, wherever it might be.
+
+A gruff bark startled them. A round, black, whiskered head suddenly
+thrust up out of the water close to the port gunwale. Filippo cried out
+in alarm, but Percy reassured him.
+
+"Only a seal!"
+
+Abruptly the sea grew rough. All around them tossed and streamed and
+writhed long, black aprons of kelp. They were passing over a sunken
+ledge. Soon it lay behind them; the kelp vanished and the waves grew
+lower.
+
+Three o'clock went by; then four. The afternoon was waning. The thick,
+woolly gray that surrounded them assumed a more somber shade. Night was
+coming, pitchy and starless, doubly so for the two lost boys, adrift on
+the open ocean.
+
+Hark! What was that? They both heard it, far distant, off the port bow!
+Percy leaped up in excitement.
+
+"The shot-gun!" he cried. "They're signaling!"
+
+Heading the boat toward the sound, he rowed his hardest, while Filippo
+strained forward, listening. Ten minutes dragged by, and once
+again--_pouf!_--slightly louder, and slightly to starboard. Percy
+corrected his course and again threw his whole heart into his rowing.
+
+So it went for an hour, the signals sounding at ten-minute intervals,
+each louder and nearer than the one before. At last Percy thought it
+possible that their voices might be heard against the wind. He stopped
+rowing.
+
+"Now shout, Filippo!"
+
+Their cries pealed out together. They were heard. An answering hail came
+back. Soon the puff-puff-puff of the _Barracouta's_ exhaust was driving
+rivets through the fog. A little later they were on board the sloop,
+answering the inquiries of Jim and Budge, while the empty pea-pod towed
+astern.
+
+"Your seamanship wasn't bad, Perce," was Jim's judgment. "After you
+dropped the buoy, and then found you'd been rowing into the teeth of the
+wind, it might have been better to have tried only to hold your own
+until we came out to look you up. That breeze at first was nearer north
+than northeast, and when you ran before it you went south past the
+island. After that you were all at sea. But I might have done just the
+same thing. I can't tell you, though, how glad we are to see you back,
+even if it did cost next to our last shell of birdshot. The Gulf of
+Maine's a pretty homesick place to be kicking round in on a foggy
+night."
+
+"You aren't any gladder than we are," replied Percy.
+
+He glanced at the pea-pod towing astern.
+
+"But say, Jim! Just cast your eye over that tub. When it comes to
+catching lobsters, haven't Filippo and I got the rest of the bunch beat
+to a frazzle?"
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+SWORDFISHING
+
+
+All through July the Tarpaulin Islanders had been troubled with dogfish.
+Beginning with a few scattering old "ground dogs," which apparently live
+on the banks the year round, they had become more and more numerous as
+the month advanced. Bait was stripped from the hooks; fish on the trawl
+were devoured until only heads and backbones were left; and the robbers
+themselves were caught in increasing numbers. At last their depredations
+became unbearable.
+
+Jim and Percy had made a set one foggy morning on Medrick Shoal. When
+the trawl came up it was a sight to make angels weep. For yards at a
+stretch the hooks were bare or bitten off. Then came "dogs" of all sizes
+from "garter-dogs," or "shoe-strings," a foot long, to full-grown
+ten-pounders of about a yard. Mingled with them was an occasional
+lonesome skeleton of a haddock, cusk, or hake.
+
+"Look at the pirate!" said Jim.
+
+Grasping a ganging well above the hook, he held the fish up for Percy's
+inspection. It was two feet long, of a dirty gray color, slim,
+shark-shaped, with mouth underneath. Before each of the two fins on its
+back projected a sharp horn.
+
+"Think of buying perfectly good herring at Vinalhaven, and freighting
+'em way down here to feed a thing like that!" mourned Jim. "He's the
+meanest thief that ever grew fins. Swims too slow to catch a fish that's
+free; but good-by to anything that's hooked, if he's round. He'll gouge
+out a piece as big as a baseball at every bite. I'd hate to fall
+overboard in a school of 'em."
+
+"Don't touch him!" he warned, hastily, as Percy reached out an
+investigating hand. "He'll stick those horns into you, and they're rank
+poison."
+
+"Aren't dogfish good for anything?" asked Percy.
+
+"Not a thing! No, I'll take that back. They can be ground up for
+fertilizer; their livers are full of oil; and their skin makes the
+finest kind of sandpaper for cleaning or polishing metal without
+scratching it. They've been canned, too, under the name of grayfish; but
+no fisherman'd ever eat 'em; he knows 'em too well."
+
+Rod after rod of trawl yielded the same results.
+
+"I'm almost tempted to save my buoys and anchors, and cut all the rest
+away," announced Jim in disgust. "I've known it to be done. They wear
+the line out, sawing across it. But I guess the best way is to save what
+we can and stop fishing for a while. Sometimes they come square-edged,
+like a stone wall, just as they have this morning; and in a few days
+they'll have gone somewhere else. Hope it'll be that way this time!"
+
+It was almost noon before the whole trawl was aboard. It had yielded
+barely two hundred pounds of hake.
+
+"Tell you what!" exclaimed Jim as he looked at his compass and headed
+the _Barracouta_ westward through the fog for home, "we'll put the trawl
+in the house for a few days, and fit up for swordfishing. There's a good
+ground fifteen miles south of the island. I've been down there with
+Uncle Tom. If we could get some fair-sized fish, it'd be worth our while
+to take 'em into Rockland."
+
+That afternoon they mustered their swordfish gear. In the house were
+three or four of the wrecked coaster's mast-hoops. One of these Jim
+lashed to the sloop's jibstay, about waist-high above the end of the
+bowsprit.
+
+"That'll do for the pulpit!"
+
+Near the jaws of the gaff he nailed a little board seat, rigged like a
+bracket on a roof for shingling. On this the lookout could sit, his arm
+round the mast, watching for fins.
+
+"Now for a harpoon!"
+
+Across the rafters inside the house lay a hard-pine pole eighteen feet
+long, ending in a tapering two-foot iron. Strung on a fish-line hanging
+from a spike were a half-dozen swordfish darts. These were sharp, stubby
+metal arrows, all head and tail and no body, with a socket cast on one
+side to admit the top of the pole-iron. Back of the arrow-head was a
+hole, through which was fastened the buoy-line.
+
+"Righto!" exclaimed Jim. "Now when the fog clears we'll be ready to do
+business."
+
+That very night the mists scaled away before a brisk north wind. Morning
+showed the sea clear for miles, though a fleecy haze still blurred the
+southern and eastern horizon.
+
+"We'll take this chance," decided Jim. "May not get a better. Remember
+it's dog-days!"
+
+At five o'clock they started south. Before eight they were on the
+swordfish-grounds. The wind, blowing against the long ocean swell,
+raised a fairly heavy sea. Though the day was clear, they could still
+feel the fog in the air.
+
+Jim allotted the company their several stations.
+
+"Budge, you swarm up to that seat on the gaff and watch out for fins!
+Throppy, you steer as Budge tells you! Stand by to take the dory, Perce,
+and go after any fish I'm lucky enough to iron. Filippo, be ready to
+throw that buoy and coil of warp off the starboard bow the minute I make
+a strike. I'll get out in the pulpit with the harpoon. Keep alive,
+everybody! We're liable to run across something any minute."
+
+Perched aloft, Budge scanned the tossing, glittering sea. His keen eye
+detected a triangular, black membrane steering leisurely through the
+waves a hundred yards ahead.
+
+"Fin on the starboard bow! Keep her off, Throppy!"
+
+In a short time the _Barracouta_ was close behind the unconscious fish.
+
+From the bowsprit end burst a shout of disgust:
+
+"No good! I can see him plain! Tail's too limber! Only a shark! Swing
+her off, Throppy!"
+
+"How can I tell a shark from a swordfish?" Budge called down to Jim.
+
+"Shark's back fin is shorter and broader, and he keeps his tail-fluke
+whacking from side to side. Swordfish has two steady fins, stiff as
+shingles; front one is long and slender and curves back on a crook; the
+after one is the upper tail-fluke. Try again!"
+
+Five minutes passed. Then an excited yell:
+
+"Fin to port!"
+
+Following Budge's shouted directions, the sloop gave chase. Soon they
+were near their quarry.
+
+"Swordfish!" breathlessly announced Jim. "And a big one! Put me on top
+of him, Budge!"
+
+Leaning against the mast-hoop that encircled his waist, he lifted the
+long lance and poised it for the blow. The tail of the fish was almost
+under his feet when he launched the harpoon with all his strength.
+
+Unluckily, at just that moment the sloop dipped and met a big sea
+squarely. Her bowsprit dove under, burying Jim almost breast-deep,
+spoiling his aim. The dart struck the fish a glancing blow on the side
+of the shoulder. Off darted their frightened game.
+
+Jim gave a cry of disappointment.
+
+"Too bad! Ten feet, if he was an inch! Well, better luck next time!"
+
+A quarter-hour passed. Budge strained his eyes, but no fin! The breeze
+was shifting to the northeast. Jim cast a practised eye about the
+horizon.
+
+"If the wind swings round much farther it'll bring the fog again. See
+anything, Budge?"
+
+"No--yes! Up to starboard! Right, Throppy! Keep her as she is!"
+
+The fish was swimming at a moderate rate, and the sloop had no trouble
+in catching up with him. The two stiff fins betrayed him.
+
+[Illustration: LEANING AGAINST THE MAST-HOOP THAT ENCIRCLED HIS WAIST,
+HE LIFTED THE LONG LANCE AND POISED IT FOR THE BLOW]
+
+"Swordfish all right!" muttered Jim. "Not quite so big as the other one,
+but too good to lose! Steady, Throppy!"
+
+Foot by foot the _Barracouta's_ bowsprit forged up on their prospective
+prey. Nobody spoke. Jim's grip on the pine staff tightened; his eye
+measured the distance to the dull-blue shoulder.
+
+Six inches further ... five ... four ... three ... two ... one ...
+_now!_
+
+With all his might he drove the harpoon downward, straight for its mark.
+There was a tremendous flurry, and down went the fish, leaving a trail
+of blood.
+
+"Got him that time! Right through the shoulder! Over with that warp and
+barrel, Filippo!"
+
+The Italian obeyed, his eyes wide as saucers. Soon the coils of the
+fifty-fathom lobster-warp had straightened out in the wake of the
+terrified fugitive, and the red buoy danced off over the wave-crests.
+
+"He's up to you, Perce!" shouted Jim. "Go after him! Only be sure to
+remember what I told you coming out. Keep your eye on the barrel! Haul
+it aboard as soon as you can, and coil in the warp. Don't get snarled up
+in it if he starts running again."
+
+Percy drew the dory alongside and jumped in. Meanwhile the harpoon staff
+was dragged aboard by the line attached to it, the pole-iron having
+pulled out of the socket in the dart when the fish was struck. Jim stuck
+on a fresh dart, attached to another warp and buoy, and was ready for a
+second strike.
+
+"Pass Percy that lance, Filippo!" he ordered.
+
+"He may need it to keep off the sharks."
+
+The Italian handed to Whittington a short, stout pole, on its end a
+two-foot iron rod, flattened to a point shaped like a tablespoon, and
+filed to razor sharpness. Percy set out in pursuit of the red barrel,
+now almost two hundred yards to starboard.
+
+"Another fin to port!" hailed Budge; and the _Barracouta_ sheered off in
+quest of a second prize.
+
+For the first few minutes, though Percy rowed his prettiest, he could
+not hold his own with the moving barrel. Each glance over his shoulder
+showed that it was farther away. He bent stoutly to his oars. The sloop
+was heading in the opposite direction, and the distance between them
+widened rapidly. The wind had veered still further to the east and the
+fog hung more thickly on the horizon.
+
+The barrel was nearer. At last he had begun to gain on it. He rowed with
+renewed vigor. Either the fish was tiring out or had stopped swimming
+altogether. Presently the dory bumped against the keg.
+
+Pulling in his oars and dropping them over the thwarts, he sprang
+forward and gaffed the buoy. A moment later he had lifted it aboard and
+was pulling in the warp.
+
+The first ten feet came over the gunwale without any resistance; then he
+had to surge against the sag of a dead weight. The fish had either given
+up the ghost or was too exhausted to struggle.
+
+Fifty fathoms is a long distance to drag two hundred pounds. Percy's
+arms began to ache before he had coiled in half the warp. Then he was
+treated to a surprise.
+
+Several feet of line jerked through his hands. The fish had come to life
+again!
+
+Percy closed his grip on the strands, but soon let them slip to avoid
+being pulled overboard. He started to make the line fast, but remembered
+Spurling's caution against the danger of tearing the dart out of his
+prey. So he tossed the barrel over again and began rowing after it.
+
+After traveling a few rods, it stopped. Once more he took it aboard and
+began coiling in the warp. This time the fish must surely be spent. But
+no! Thirty fathoms had crossed the gunwale when the rope was whisked
+from his hands with even more violence than before.
+
+Taken completely by surprise, Percy was wrenched forward. He hung for a
+moment over the side, twisted himself back in a strong effort to regain
+his balance, and incautiously planted his foot inside the unlaying coil.
+A turn whipped round his ankle, and he was snatched overboard, feet
+first.
+
+Before he could make a motion to free himself he was plowing rapidly
+along under water. His first panic passed. Unless he wished to drown, he
+must somehow clear his foot of that vise-like grip. And whatever he did
+must be done at once.
+
+He tried to reach his ankle, but the rate at which he was traveling
+straightened out his body, and he could not bend it against the water
+rushing by him. The warp leading back to the dory trailed across his
+face. He felt his way down it, hand over hand, to his ankle.
+
+There was a terrible pressure on his chest, a roaring in his ears; he
+was strangling. He could not hold his breath ten seconds longer.
+
+Bent almost double, he grasped the taut line beyond his foot, first
+with one hand, then with both, and flung his whole weight suddenly on it
+in a desperate pull.
+
+The strain round his ankle eased, the rope loosened. Kicking vigorously,
+he freed himself from the loop. Then he let go of the warp and quickly
+rose to the surface.
+
+Percy was a good swimmer. He cleared the water from his mouth and nose,
+paddled easily while he drew two or three long breaths, then raised
+himself and looked around.
+
+Twenty yards away the dory bobbed aimlessly, the rope still running at a
+rapid rate over its gunwale. As Percy rose on a wave he caught a glimpse
+of the _Barracouta_ more than a mile off; engrossed in the chase of the
+second fish, her crew had probably not observed his mishap. He turned
+his eyes back to the dory at the very moment that the warp ran out to
+its full length and the barrel was whirled overboard.
+
+Its red bilge flung the spray aloft as it towed rapidly toward him. Ten
+yards away it came to a sudden stop. The swordfish was either dead or
+taking another rest.
+
+It was a matter of no great difficulty for Percy to reach the little
+cask. He rested on it for a moment, then resumed his swim toward the
+boat. Presently he was grasping the gunwale.
+
+A month earlier it would have been absolutely impossible for him to
+scramble into the high-sided, rocking craft. As it was he had a hard
+fight, and he was all but spent when he tumbled inside and lay panting.
+
+When he raised himself, the first thing he noticed was that the fog was
+driving nearer. The wind was now due east. It promised to bring the
+day's fishing to an early end. He must retrieve the barrel and get the
+fish aboard as soon as possible or he might lose it altogether.
+
+Shipping his oars, he rowed up to the cask and took it in. A pull on the
+warp showed that the swordfish was motionless. Percy began hauling
+again, but this time he was very careful to keep his feet clear of the
+coil.
+
+A damp breath smote his cheek. He glanced toward the east, and saw the
+fog blowing over the water in ragged, fleecy masses. The _Barracouta_
+was momentarily hidden. When she reappeared, fully a mile distant, her
+crew were hoisting a black body aboard. While he was fighting for life
+they had succeeded in capturing the second fish. The sight reminded him
+of his duty. He resumed pulling.
+
+As the fathoms came in there was no sign of life on the other end. The
+fish sagged like lead. At last the long drag was over and its body
+floated beside the dory.
+
+"Deader 'n a door-nail!" muttered Percy.
+
+His prize was fully seven feet long. The iron had gone down under the
+shoulder and out into the gills, causing it to bleed freely. Its sword,
+which was an extension of the upper jaw, suggesting a duck's bill, was
+notched and battered, where it had struck against rocks on the bottom.
+
+Following Jim's directions, Percy fastened a bight of the warp securely
+round the tail of his prize, triced it up over the dory's stem, and made
+the line fast round a thwart. The fish was so heavy that he could not
+lift it very high, and most of its body dragged in the water. He began
+to row slowly toward the sloop.
+
+Thicker and thicker blew the fog. Finally it blotted out the
+_Barracouta_; but Percy's last view of her told that she was heading his
+way. What if she could not find him! The thought gave him an unpleasant
+chill. He rowed harder.
+
+A splash astern attracted his attention. A violent shock set the dory
+quivering. He started up just in time to see a large fish dart away,
+leaving the blood streaming from a gory wound in the head of the
+swordfish.
+
+A shark! Percy knew he was in for a fight. He seized the lance and
+sprang into the stern.
+
+A black fin shot alongside. The marauder rolled up for his turn at the
+banquet. Just as his jaws opened Percy drove the keen steel into his
+throat.
+
+Mad with fright and pain, the robber flashed off, thrashing the bloody
+water. Another fin appeared on Percy's left. Again he lunged, and found
+his mark. The tail of the wounded shark struck the dory a heavy blow.
+Down it rolled, almost pitching the boy overboard head foremost among
+the blood-crazed sea-tigers. For a moment he sickened at what might have
+happened; but he regained his balance and hung to the lance. His
+fighting blood was roused. He had risked too much already to have the
+swordfish torn to pieces under his very eyes.
+
+Knees braced tightly against the sides of the stern, hands locked round
+the stout butt of the lance, he foiled rush after rush of the
+black-finned, white-bellied pirates. Again and again he lunged and
+stabbed, until the water round the rocking boat was dyed crimson.
+
+[Illustration: KNEES BRACED TIGHTLY AGAINST THE SIDES OF THE STERN,
+HANDS LOCKED ROUND THE STOUT BUTT OF THE LANCE, HE FOILED RUSH AFTER
+RUSH OF THE BLACK-FINNED, WHITE-BELLIED PIRATES]
+
+There seemed to be no end to the sharks. Fins crisscrossed the water all
+about and cut in toward the swordfish in quick, savage rushes. Percy was
+becoming exhausted; his arms ached; his breath came short. He could not
+keep up the fight much longer. Where was the _Barracouta_?
+
+He shouted at the top of his lungs. Unexpectedly, out of the fog to
+starboard Jim's voice answered him.
+
+"Sharks!" yelled Percy. "This way! Quick!"
+
+"Fight 'em off! We're coming!"
+
+In less than two minutes the sloop was alongside, and oars and harpoon
+helped beat off the assailants while the prize was being hoisted aboard.
+Though badly gouged and bitten about the head, the swordfish was but
+little impaired in value, for its body had hardly been touched. Another
+of about the same size lay in the standing-room. It had been a good
+morning's work.
+
+Percy told his story as the _Barracouta_ nosed home through the fog.
+When he had finished, Jim dropped his hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Perce," said he, "you certainly put up a great fight and saved your
+fish. Nobody could have done any better."
+
+Those few words, Percy felt, amply repaid him for what he had gone
+through that morning. He had won his spurs and was at last a
+full-fledged member of Spurling & Company.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+MIDSUMMER DAYS
+
+
+Half past twelve found the _Barracouta_ again at her mooring in Sprowl's
+Cove. Throppy and Filippo were landed, with instructions to haul the
+lobster-traps the next morning if the fog would allow them to do it
+safely. Without waiting for dinner, Jim, Budge, and Percy started in the
+sloop for Rockland to dispose of their catch. They had no ice, so it was
+necessary to get the two swordfish to market as soon as possible.
+
+"Thicker 'n a dungeon, isn't it?" said Jim as they rounded Brimstone
+Point and headed northwest into the fog. "Lucky we've got a good
+compass! Without it we wouldn't stand the ghost of a show of getting to
+Rockland. We'd pile up on some ledge before we'd gone half-way."
+
+Shaping their course carefully by the chart, and keeping on the alert to
+avoid passing vessels and steamers, they drove the _Barracouta_ at top
+speed. Ten miles from Tarpaulin the increased height of the ocean swells
+told that they were crossing the shoal rocky ground of Snippershan. Five
+miles farther on they left behind the clanging bell on Bay Ledge and
+soon passed the red whistler south of Hurricane. A straight course from
+this brought them at five o'clock to the bell east of Monroe's Island,
+and before six they were alongside the steamboat wharf at Rockland.
+
+"Look out for her, boys!" directed Jim. "I want to get up-town before
+the markets close."
+
+He landed, and started on the run for Main Street. In twenty-five
+minutes he was back.
+
+"Sold 'em!" he announced. "Sixty dollars!"
+
+A little later an express-wagon with two men drove down on the wharf.
+The swordfish were hoisted from the _Barracouta_, the agreed price paid,
+and the team hurried away.
+
+"Not a bad day's work," said Budge.
+
+"Fair! Now let's go somewhere and get a good supper!"
+
+They found a restaurant on Main Street, unpretentious but clean, and sat
+down at one of its small tables. Two months ago Percy would have turned
+up his nose at the idea of eating in such a place; now he looked forward
+to a meal there with eager anticipation. Jim winked at him, then scanned
+the bill of fare, and turned to Budge.
+
+"What'll you have, Roger?" he asked. "I see they've some nice fish
+here."
+
+"Fish!" almost screamed Lane. "Not on your life! I've eaten so much fish
+the last two months that I'm ashamed to look a hake or haddock in the
+face. None for mine! Beefsteak and onions are good enough for me."
+
+Jim glanced at Percy. Percy nodded.
+
+"Three of the same," said Jim to the waiter.
+
+They starved until the viands came on, then turned to. Fifteen minutes
+later the three orders were duplicated and despatched without undue
+delay.
+
+"Try it again, Budge?"
+
+"I'd like to," returned Lane, truthfully, "but I can't."
+
+Jim broke a five-dollar bill at the cashier's desk, and they filed out.
+
+"Sorry Throppy and Filippo aren't with us," said Percy.
+
+"So am I; but we'll even it up with 'em somehow, later."
+
+After an evening with Sherlock Holmes at the movies the three went down
+to the _Barracouta_ and turned in. The next morning the fog was not so
+thick. They started at sunrise, and reached the island before eleven
+o'clock. At noon Stevens and the Italian came in with a good catch of
+lobsters.
+
+And now came some of the most enjoyable weeks of the summer. The five
+boys were thoroughly acquainted and on the best of terms. Their work had
+been reduced to a frictionless routine that left them more leisure than
+at first. Lane was treasurer and bookkeeper for the concern, and his
+reports, made every Saturday night, showed that returns, both from the
+fish and from the lobsters, were running ahead of their estimates at the
+beginning of the season.
+
+Percy, in particular, was learning to enjoy the free, out-of-door life,
+so different from anything to which he had been accustomed. At the close
+of pleasant afternoons, when a land breeze had driven the fog to sea and
+the work of the day was finished, he liked to take his Cæsar or Virgil
+up to the beacon on Brimstone, and lie at ease on the cushion of wiry
+grass, while he followed the great general through his Gallic campaigns
+or traced the wanderings of pious Æneas over a sea that could have been
+no bluer or more sparkling than that which surrounded the island.
+Sometimes it pleased him to explore the sheep-paths through the scrubby
+evergreens with gray wool-tags clinging to the branch ends, and to
+emerge at last from the tangle of dwarfed, twisted trunks on the
+northeast point. There he would throw himself at full length on the
+summit of the bluff, with the surf in his ears and the cool, salt breeze
+on his face, and watch the sun flashing from the brown glass toggles
+near the white lobster-buoys; or, lifting his gaze to the horizon beyond
+the purple deep, he would trace the low, rolling humps of the mainland
+hills, the cleft range of Isle au Haut, or the heights of Mount Desert.
+But no studies or scenery caused him to forget his daily trip with
+sweater and rockweed.
+
+The glades on the southern edge of the woods were overgrown with
+raspberry-bushes. When Filippo's daily stint about the camp was
+finished, he visited these spots with his pail; and while the season
+lasted, heaping bowls of red, dead-ripe fruit or saucers of sweet
+preserve varied their customary fare. There were blueberries, too, in
+abundance, and these also made a welcome addition to their table.
+
+"Boys," said Lane, one morning, "I'm meat hungry. I can still taste that
+beefsteak we got the other night at Rockland. Think of the ton or so of
+mutton chops running loose on top of this island, while we poor Crusoes
+are starving to death on the beach!"
+
+"No need of waiting until you're in the last stages, Budge," observed
+Jim. "Uncle Tom told me we could have a lamb whenever we wanted one. All
+we've got to do is to kill it."
+
+A silence settled over the camp. The boys looked at one another. Nobody
+hankered for the job.
+
+"Budge spoke first," suggested Throppy.
+
+"I'm no butcher," returned Lane. "Come to think of it, I don't care much
+for lamb, after all."
+
+"Now see here!" said Jim. "What's the use of beating round the bush?
+We're all crazy for fresh meat. The only thing to do is to draw lots to
+see who'll sacrifice his feelings and do the shooting. We'll settle that
+now."
+
+He cut four toothpicks into uneven lengths.
+
+"Filippo's not in this."
+
+He had noticed that the Italian's olive face had grown pale.
+
+"Now come up and draw like men!"
+
+The lot fell to Lane.
+
+"You're it, Budge! Don't be a quitter! There's the gun and here's our
+last shell. Don't miss!"
+
+Lane's lips tightened. But he took the gun, put in the shell, and
+started up over the bank.
+
+"Don't follow me," he flung back. "I'll do this alone."
+
+Five minutes of silence followed. Then--_bang!_
+
+"He's done it!" exclaimed Throppy.
+
+The boys felt unhappy. In a few minutes Lane came crunching down the
+gravel slope. His face was sober.
+
+"Where's the lamb?" asked Jim.
+
+"Up there! I didn't agree to bring it down."
+
+"Come on, boys!"
+
+Jim, Percy, and Stevens went up to the pasture; Lane remained in the
+cabin. A careful search failed to reveal the victim. Jim walked to the
+edge of the bank.
+
+"Oh, Budge!" he called.
+
+Lane came out of the camp.
+
+"Where's that lamb?"
+
+"Don't know! Running around up there, I s'pose!"
+
+"Didn't you shoot him?"
+
+"No! I couldn't. And I know none of the rest of you could, either. So I
+fired in the air."
+
+Jim's laugh spoke his relief.
+
+"Well, I guess that's the easiest way out of it for everybody. Next trip
+to Matinicus I'll order a hind quarter from Rockland. It'll mean a
+little more wear and tear on the company's pocketbook, but a good deal
+less on our feelings."
+
+One of the accompaniments of the heat and fog of those August days was a
+kind of salt-water mirage. Ships and steamers miles away below the
+horizon were lifted into plain view. Low, distant islands rose to
+perpendicular bluffs, distorted by the wavering air-currents; other
+islands appeared directly above the first, and came down to join them.
+Percy watched these novel moving pictures with great interest.
+
+Every few mornings either the trawl or the lobster-traps would yield
+something unusual. Now it might be a dozen bream, called by the
+fishermen "brim," "redfish," or "all-eyes"; again up would come a
+catfish, savage and sharp-toothed, able to dent an ash oar; and rarely a
+small halibut would appear, drowned on the trawl. Sometimes the
+lobstermen would capture a monkfish, whose undiscriminating appetite had
+led him to try to swallow a glass float; or a trap would come to the
+surface freighted with huge five-fingers or containing a short,
+ribbon-shaped eel, blood-red from nose to tail-tip.
+
+Spurling & Company were dressing a big catch of hake on the _Barracouta_
+early one afternoon when a rockety report resounded close to the island.
+Percy, who was wielding his splitting-knife with good effect, as his
+oilskins showed, glanced up quickly.
+
+"That's a yacht's gun!"
+
+Sixty seconds revealed that he was right. Into the mouth of the cove
+shot a keen-pro wed steam-yacht, resplendent with brass fittings and
+fresh, white paint. Five or six flanneled figures lounged aft, while a
+few members of her crew, natty in white duck, dropped anchor under the
+direction of an officer. Side-steps were lowered and an immaculate toy
+boat swung out; a sailor occupied the rowing-thwart, while one of the
+yachtsmen stepped into the stern and took the rudder-lines. The boat
+sped straight toward the _Barracouta_, which grew dingy and mean by
+contrast.
+
+Presently the strangers were near. The yachtsman touched his cap. He was
+a good-looking fellow of perhaps nineteen, with a light, fuzzy mustache
+and eyes that were a trifle shifty.
+
+"Would you be so kind as to tell me--"
+
+He broke off abruptly as he recognized Percy.
+
+"By the Great Horn Spoon!" he almost shouted, "if it isn't P.
+Whittington! Percy, old man, what do you mean by hiding yourself away
+offshore in a lonesome spot like this? Come aboard! Come aboard! The old
+crowd's there--Ben Brimmer and Martin Sayles and Mordaunt and Mack and
+Barden. I've chartered the _Arethusa_, and invited 'em to spend a month
+with me along the New England coast. We're not having a time of it--oh
+no! or my name isn't Chauncey Pike!"
+
+His eyes dwelt curiously on the details of Percy's costume and
+occupation.
+
+"What you masquerading for? Hiding from the sheriff?"
+
+Percy met his gaze evenly. His estimate of men and the things that make
+life worth living had undergone a material change during the last two
+months. Pike's jesting flowed off him like water off a duck. He
+introduced the other members of Spurling & Company, and Pike greeted
+them cordially.
+
+"I want you all to take dinner on board with us to-night. We've got a
+first-class chef, and I'll have him do his prettiest. 'Tisn't every day
+you run across an old friend."
+
+Jim was inclined to demur, but Pike would not take no for an answer, and
+he finally gave in when Percy added his entreaties to those of the
+yachtsman.
+
+"Signal the yacht when you're through, Perce," said the latter as he
+rowed away, "and I'll send ashore for you. I know your friends here will
+excuse you for a while if you come aboard and talk over old times with
+us."
+
+"Better let me set you ashore now," said Jim, "so you can wash up and
+change your clothes."
+
+"Not much!" refused Percy. "I'll see every fish salted first."
+
+He was as good as his word. Not until the last hake lay on the top of
+its brethren in the hogshead did he take off his oilskins and prepare
+for his visit to the yacht. At his signal the boat rowed in and took him
+aboard. He received an uproarious greeting from his former friends. The
+first welcome over, he came in for more or less chaffing.
+
+"Boys," jeered Pike, "what do you suppose I found this modest,
+salt-water violet--or barnacle, I should say--doing? Actually dressed in
+oil-clothes and cleaning fish! Think of it! P. Whittington, the one and
+only! Wouldn't his friends along Fifth Avenue like to see him in that
+rig! Honest, Perce, if I wanted to bury myself, I'd pick a cemetery
+where the occupants didn't have to perform so much bone labor. I'd
+rather face the firing-squad than do what you were doing this
+afternoon."
+
+"Guess you're telling the truth, Chauncey," retorted Percy.
+
+"Come down below and let's have a drink all round!"
+
+"Not unless it's Poland water," said Percy, firmly. "The one drawback
+about this island is that the only spring's brackish. If you've any good
+bottled water I'll be glad to drink with you, but nothing stronger."
+
+"Just listen to that, fellows! Well, have your own way, Perce! We've a
+dozen carboys of spring water aboard, and you can drink 'em all if you
+want to. Try these cigarettes!"
+
+"Swore off over a month ago."
+
+"No! Shouldn't think you'd find life worth living. What do you have for
+amusement?"
+
+"We're too busy to need any," replied Percy, truthfully.
+
+Pike looked serious. Removing Percy's cap, he tapped his head with the
+tips of his fingers.
+
+"There's some trouble inside," he said at last, "but I can't quite make
+out what it is. I think we'll have to take him up to the city to consult
+some prominent alienist, as the newspapers would say. But first he's
+going east in the _Arethusa_ with Doctor Pike. Come on, Perce! Put off
+the sackcloth and ashes, or rather the oilskins and fish-scales, and
+travel with us for a while. We're all artists aboard, but we paint in
+only one color, and that's a deep, rich red! We're going to spread it
+over Castine and Bar Harbor and Campobello, and we want your esteemed
+assistance. Do we have it?"
+
+Percy shook his head.
+
+"You do not," he declined. "I'm booked for college in the fall, and I'm
+studying to make up my conditions."
+
+Pike looked sadly round at the others.
+
+"And so young!" he lamented. "I presume your friends ashore share your
+sentiments, and we'll have to take 'em into consideration in planning
+for that dinner to-night. Wouldn't have any scruples, would you, about
+beginning with a clear soup, then tackling a juicy beef roast with all
+the fixings, and winding up with lemon pie and ice-cream?"
+
+"Lead me to it," grinned Percy. "Well, fellows, I'm mighty glad to see
+you, even if we don't agree on all points. Now I've an engagement ashore
+for a half-hour or so, and if you'll set me on the beach I'll come
+aboard with the others."
+
+Curious eyes followed him as he climbed the bluff with his sweater and
+plunged into the woods. At six he rowed out with the rest of the
+Spurlingites, Filippo included. The dinner to which they sat down was
+one they remembered for the rest of the season. Pike had not overpraised
+his French chef. Everybody had a good time, and at the close of the meal
+a toast was drunk--in spring water--to the continued success of Spurling
+& Company. The boys went ashore early.
+
+No trawling was done the next morning, as it was the regular day for the
+trip to Matinicus. The _Barracouta_ started at nine o'clock. At about
+the same time the yacht catted her anchor, fired a farewell gun, and
+proceeded eastward, her passengers first lining up and giving three
+cheers for their guests of the night before, and receiving a similar
+salute in return.
+
+"Perce," said Jim as the sloop rose and sank on the swells on her way
+over to Seal Island, "if you won't think me impertinent, I'd like to ask
+you a question."
+
+"Fire ahead!"
+
+"You can tell me or not, just as you please, but I've been wondering
+since last night whether, right down at the bottom of your heart, you'd
+rather be with your friends on the yacht or with us on the island."
+
+"That's an easy one, Jim," replied Percy. "And the best answer I can
+make is the fact I'm on the boat with you this minute. I had an
+invitation to go with them, and I declined it. Things look different to
+me from what they did two months ago."
+
+At Matinicus Percy found a letter from his father, answering his epistle
+of a few weeks before.
+
+    DEAR PERCY [it ran],--Glad to hear you're on the job. Keep it up.
+
+Percy countered that night as follows:
+
+    DEAR DAD,--I'm still sticking.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+A LOST ALUMNUS
+
+
+Throppy stepped out of the fish-house at the close of a breezy afternoon
+and started for the camp to wash up. The morning's catch had been split
+and salted; it just filled a hogshead. He glanced seaward at the
+white-capped squalls chasing one another over the broad blue surface.
+Three steps from the building he halted in surprise.
+
+"Hulloo! Who's that?"
+
+Round the eastern point came a small sloop. Evidently she had met with
+disaster, for the end of her boom was broken and dragging and her
+mainsail hung loosely. It was easily apparent that she had made a safe
+harbor none too early.
+
+Attracted by Throppy's exclamation, the other boys joined him, and
+together they watched the strange craft limp into the cove. As she came
+nearer they could see that she was old and dilapidated. Her brown canvas
+was frayed and rotten; tag-ends of rope hung here and there; and her
+battered sides were badly in need of a coat of fresh paint.
+
+"Built in the year one!" was Jim's verdict. "Almost too old to be
+knocking round so far offshore!"
+
+Gliding slowly into the cove, she lost headway not far from the
+_Barracouta_. A small black dog began to run to and fro on board and
+bark excitedly. The man at the helm, evidently her only crew, hurried
+stiffly forward, let the jib and mainsail run down, and dropped the
+anchor. Then the boys were treated to a fresh surprise.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A shaggy white cat leaped from the standing-room upon the roof of the
+cabin. A Maltese followed her. Then another, jet black, sprang into
+view. The three rubbed about the legs of the man as he made his cable
+fast. Nemo, roused from his nap under the stove, ran down to the water's
+edge and began an interchange of ferocious greetings with the strange
+canine; while the cats, lining up in a row on the side, arched their
+backs and spit fiercely.
+
+The boys viewed this menagerie with amazement.
+
+"Barnum & Bailey's come to town!" muttered Budge.
+
+His craft safely moored, the man drew in a small punt which was towing
+astern and stepped into it. The dog followed.
+
+"Back, Oliver!" ordered his master.
+
+Grasping the animal by the scruff of the neck, he tossed him into the
+standing-room. Then he slowly sculled the punt to the beach. Jim walked
+down to meet him.
+
+The stranger was of medium height, and apparently over sixty years old.
+His beard and mustache were gray. He wore a black slouch-hat and a
+Prince Albert coat, threadbare and shiny, but neatly brushed. He stepped
+briskly ashore, with shoulders well set back. His dark eyes carried a
+suggestion of melancholy, and his face was deeply lined.
+
+"I've dropped in to make repairs," said he. "Broke my main boom in a
+squall about a mile north of the island, and thought I might get some
+one here to help me fix it."
+
+"You did right to come," returned Jim. "We'll be glad to do anything we
+can, Mr.--"
+
+"Thorpe," supplied the other. "That isn't my name, but it'll do as well
+as any."
+
+"Mine's Spurling," said Jim.
+
+They shook hands and walked up to the camp. There Jim introduced the
+newcomer to the other boys. Supper was about to be put on the table and
+the stranger was invited to share it. He accepted, and ate heartily,
+almost ravenously.
+
+"Seems good to taste somebody's cooking besides your own," he
+apologized. "When you've summered and wintered yourself, year in and
+year out, the thing gets pretty monotonous and you almost hate the sight
+of food."
+
+"Then you're alone most of the time?" ventured Lane.
+
+"Not most of the time, but all the time."
+
+The boys would have liked to inquire further, but courtesy forbade, and
+their guest did not volunteer anything more regarding himself. He
+shifted the conversation to Nemo.
+
+"Bright-looking dog you've got there!" he commented.
+
+"Yes," said Jim. "And he's fully as bright as he looks. I see you've a
+dog and some cats aboard."
+
+"Yes; and they're good company--better, in some ways, than human beings,
+for they can't talk back. The dog's Oliver Cromwell; and the cats I've
+named Joan of Arc, Marie Antoinette, and Queen Victoria. I must go
+aboard and give 'em their suppers."
+
+He rose from the table.
+
+"Come back again in an hour," invited Jim, "and we'll have some music.
+We've a violin here."
+
+"I'll be more than glad to come," returned their guest. "Music's
+something I don't have a chance to hear very often."
+
+Walking down the beach, he sculled out to his sloop. His animals greeted
+him, Oliver Cromwell vociferously, the cats with a more reserved
+welcome.
+
+"What d'you make of him?" asked Percy. "Odd stick, isn't he?"
+
+"Yes," said Jim, meditatively, "but he seems like a gentleman. What I
+can't understand is why he's cruising along the coast alone in that old
+Noah's ark. It doesn't seem natural. Besides, it's dangerous business
+for a man of his age. Well, it's no concern of ours. Let's give him a
+pleasant evening."
+
+Promptly at the end of the allotted hour the stranger came ashore again.
+
+"Got the children all in bed for the night," said he. "Now I can make
+you a little visit with a clear conscience."
+
+He spoke faster and more cheerfully than he had done before. The
+melancholy in his bearing had vanished. Jim thought he detected a slight
+odor of liquor about him, but he could not be sure. They all sat down
+together, and Throppy brought out his violin.
+
+"What shall it be, boys?" he asked, after a preliminary tuning up.
+
+"Give us 'The Wearing of the Green,'" suggested Lane.
+
+Soon the wailing strains of the familiar Irish melody were breathing
+through the cabin. "Kathleen Mavourneen" followed, and the stranger sat
+as if fascinated. At "'Way Down Upon the Suwanee River" he dropped his
+head in his hands and his shoulders shook.
+
+"Something livelier, Throppy," said Jim.
+
+Stevens started in on "Dixie." As the first spirited notes came dancing
+off the violin their guest raised his head quickly, and before the
+selection was finished his cheerfulness had returned.
+
+"Can you play 'The Campbells Are Coming'?" he inquired.
+
+As Stevens responded with the stirring Scotch air Thorpe rose to his
+feet and began whistling a clear, melodious accompaniment. The notes
+trilled out, pure and bird-like. The boys broke into hearty applause
+when he finished. Their approval emboldened him to ask a favor.
+
+"I used to play a little myself," he said; "but it's been years since
+I've had a bow in my hand. Would you be willing for me to see if I can
+recall anything? I'll be careful of your instrument."
+
+"Sure!" cordially returned Stevens.
+
+He handed violin and bow to Thorpe. The latter took them almost
+reverently. Tucking the violin under his chin, he drew the bow back and
+forth, at first with a lingering, uncertain touch, but soon with an
+increasing firmness and accuracy that bespoke an old-time skill.
+Gradually he gathered confidence, and a bubbling flood of liquid music
+gushed from the vibrating strings.
+
+At first he played a medley of fragments, short snatches from old tunes,
+each shading imperceptibly into the one that followed, blending into a
+whole that chorded with the night and sea and wind and the driftwood
+fire crackling in the little stove in the lonely island cabin. The boys
+sat motionless, listening, brooding over the visions the music opened to
+each. They had never heard such music before. Even Percy had to
+acknowledge that, as he leaned breathlessly forward, eyes glued to the
+dancing bow.
+
+One final, long, slow sweep, and the last notes died away, mellow and
+silvery as a distant bell. The musician raised his bowed head and looked
+about.
+
+"More!" begged the boys.
+
+With a nod of assent, he began "Annie Laurie." His audience sat
+spellbound. "Flow Gently, Sweet Afton" followed; and he closed with
+"Auld Lang Syne." Then he laid the violin carefully on the table and
+burst into tears.
+
+For two or three minutes nobody spoke. Filippo was weeping silently;
+Percy cleared his throat; and even the other three were conscious of a
+slight huskiness. The evening was turning out differently from what they
+had anticipated.
+
+Brushing away his tears, the stranger controlled himself with a strong
+effort.
+
+"I don't know what you'll think of me, boys," said he, shamefacedly.
+"I'm sorry to have made such an exhibition of myself. But music always
+did affect me; besides, it's wakened some old memories. Guess I'd better
+be going now."
+
+He half rose.
+
+"Stay awhile longer," urged Jim; and the others seconded the invitation.
+
+Thorpe sank back on his box.
+
+"You won't have to persuade me very hard. Evenings alone on the _Helen_
+are pretty long."
+
+His eye fell on Percy's Æneid on the shelf beside the window.
+
+"Aha! Who's reading Virgil?"
+
+"I am," confessed Percy. "Making up college conditions."
+
+The stranger looked at him keenly.
+
+"Conditions, eh? Guess you don't need to have any, unless you want 'em."
+
+"Found you at home there, Perce!" laughed Lane.
+
+"I don't propose to have any more after this summer," averred Percy,
+stoutly.
+
+"Stick to that!" encouraged Thorpe. "There's enough have 'em that can't
+help it."
+
+Taking down the volume, he opened it at the beginning of the first book,
+and began reading aloud, dividing the lines into feet:
+
+     _"Arma virumque cano, Trojae qui primus ab oris Italiam, fato
+     profugus, Laviniaque venit._
+
+"Wouldn't want to say how long it's been since I last set eyes on that.
+Probably you boys notice that I use the English pronunciation of Latin
+instead of the continental; it's what I had when I was in college."
+
+"What was your college?" inquired Percy.
+
+Melancholy darkened Thorpe's face again.
+
+"Never mind about that," he replied, a little brusquely.
+
+Glancing round the cabin, he caught sight of Throppy's wireless outfit;
+soon the two were engaged in an interested discussion on wave-lengths
+and the effect of atmospheric disturbances. Later he was talking over
+the lobster law with Jim, and life-insurance with Lane. He seemed to be
+equally at home on all subjects.
+
+Eight o'clock came before they realized it. The stranger's face suddenly
+grew somber.
+
+"Boys," said he, "I must be going now. You've given me a mighty
+pleasant evening and I sha'n't forget it right away. You'll think it a
+strange thing for me to say, but the best return I can make for your
+kindness is to tell you something about myself."
+
+He glanced at Percy.
+
+"You asked me what my college was. I'm not going to answer that
+question, but I'll say this: At the end of its catalogue of graduates
+you'll find a page headed 'Lost Alumni,' and my name--my real name--is
+there. It's a list of those whose addresses are unknown to the college
+authorities, men who have dropped out, gone back, disappeared. Nobody
+knows what's become of 'em, and by and by nobody cares. That's just what
+I am--a lost alumnus! And it's better for me to stay lost!"
+
+With trembling hands he picked up a worm-eaten stick beside the stove.
+
+"I'm like this stick now--only driftwood! Once I was young and sound and
+strong as any one of you--just as this wood was once. Now--"
+
+Lifting the stove cover, he flung the stick into the fire; a burst of
+sparks shot up.
+
+"That's all it's fit for; and it's all I'm fit for, too! Name ...
+character ... friends ... home ... all gone--all gone!"
+
+He took a step toward the door, then halted.
+
+"I've told you this because it may do some one of you some good while
+there's time. Don't throw your lives away, as I've thrown away mine!"
+
+The sober, startled faces of his hearers apparently recalled him to
+himself.
+
+"Sorry I spoke so freely," he apologized. "Forget it, boys, and forget
+me! Everybody else has. Good night!"
+
+He opened the door.
+
+"Won't you stop ashore with us?" invited Spurling. "We can fix you up a
+bunk."
+
+"No; I must go aboard. My dog and cats would be lonesome; wouldn't sleep
+a wink without me. They're mighty knowing animals."
+
+He went out and closed the door. The boys looked at one another. Lane
+was the first to speak.
+
+"What d'you suppose was the matter with him? Must have been something
+pretty bad to make him feel that way. But, say! Didn't he make that
+violin talk? Never heard anything like it before!"
+
+That night the boys went to bed feeling unusually serious. Percy, in
+particular, did not get to sleep until late. The stranger's remarks had
+given him much food for thought.
+
+The next morning, before sunrise, the barking of Oliver Cromwell and a
+thin, blue smoke curling from the stovepipe of the _Helen_ told that the
+lost alumnus was preparing breakfast. Jim and Percy had started off with
+their trawls some time before. Stevens volunteered to help their visitor
+repair his boom, so Filippo went out with Lane to haul the
+lobster-traps.
+
+All the boys were back at noon, when Thorpe, repairs made, waved
+farewell and sailed slowly out of the cove, dog and cats manning the
+side of the _Helen_, as if for a last salute. Throppy told of his
+morning's work.
+
+"Tried to pay me for what I did; but of course I wouldn't take
+anything. You might not think it, but, inside, that old boat is as neat
+as wax. Got a good library on board, too; books there that were beyond
+me. All the current magazines. Easy to see how he keeps up to date about
+everything."
+
+At two o'clock that afternoon in popped the _Calista_ in quest of
+lobsters. The boys told her captain about their strange caller. Higgins
+laughed shortly.
+
+"What--old Thorpe! Oh yes, I've known of him these twenty years!
+Mystery? Not so much as you might think. It's the same mystery that's
+ruined a lot of other men--John Barleycorn! Thorpe showed up from nobody
+knows where about a quarter of a century ago; and ever since then he's
+been banging up and down the coast in that old boat. They say he's a
+college graduate gone to the bad from drink."
+
+"What supports him?" asked Lane. "Does he fish?"
+
+"Not more than enough to supply himself and his live stock. I've heard
+he's got wealthy relatives who furnish him with all the money he needs.
+He likes to live in this style, and they like to have him. He's out of
+their way, and they're out of his. In the winter he ties the sloop up in
+some harbor and stops aboard."
+
+"He seemed to be sober enough last night," said Jim.
+
+"Yes; when he's all right you couldn't ask for a man to be more
+peaceable or gentlemanly; but when he's in liquor, look out! I passed
+him a month ago one squally day off Monhegan, running before the wind,
+sheet fast, shot to the eyes, and yelling like a wild man. It's a
+dangerous trick to make that sheet fast on a squally day, or on any day
+at all, for that matter. Some time he'll do it once too often. Well, as
+the saying goes, 'When rum's in, wit's out!' How's lobsters?"
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+BLOWN OFF
+
+
+At two o'clock on a Friday morning toward the end of August Spurling and
+Whittington started with six tubs of trawl, baited with salted herring,
+for Clay Bank. Long before sunrise the last fathom of ground-line had
+gone overboard and the tubs were empty.
+
+Swinging the _Barracouta_ about, they retraced their course to the first
+buoy.
+
+A long, oily ocean swell, heaving in from the south, undulated the
+breezeless sea. The air was mild, almost suspiciously so. Dawn was
+breaking redly as they reached their starting-point and prepared to pull
+in the trawl.
+
+"I'll haul the first half, Perce," volunteered Spurling.
+
+Drawing the dory alongside, he cast off her painter and sprang aboard.
+Before taking in the buoy he stood for a half-minute, scanning sky and
+sea.
+
+"Almost too fine!" he remarked. "I don't like that crimson east. You
+remember how the rhyme goes:
+
+    "A red sky in the morning,
+    Sailors take warning.
+
+Looks to me like a weather-breeder. Those swells remind me of a lazy,
+good-natured, purring tiger. You wouldn't think they'd swamp a toy
+boat; but let the wind blow over 'em a few hours and it's an entirely
+different matter. Still, I don't think we'll see any really bad weather
+before midnight at the earliest. Guess we'd better plan not to set
+to-morrow."
+
+He was soon unhooking hake and coiling the trawl into its tub. Percy
+kept the _Barracouta_ close by. At the middle buoy he relieved Spurling
+in the dory. The set yielded over two thousand pounds of fish,
+principally good-sized hake.
+
+"Very fair morning's work," said Spurling. "We'll leave that last load
+in the dory. Now for home!"
+
+Soon the sloop was heading for Tarpaulin, the weighted dory towing
+behind. They were almost up to Brimstone Point when, with a final
+explosion, the engine stopped. Spurling gave an exclamation of mingled
+disgust and relief.
+
+"Something's broken! Well, we're lucky it didn't give way five miles
+back. It'd have been a tough job to warp her in so far, with a white-ash
+breeze. Cast off that dory, Perce!"
+
+As Percy pulled the smaller craft alongside the distant quick-fire of an
+approaching engine fell upon his ears. He glanced quickly toward the
+northeast.
+
+"No blisters for us this morning!" he shouted. "Here comes Captain Ben
+in the _Calista!_ He'll tow us in."
+
+Presently the lobster-smack was alongside, and soon the _Calista_, with
+sloop and dory in tow, was heading for Sprowl's Cove. Jim and Percy had
+left their boat and come on board the smack. They noticed that Higgins
+seemed unusually serious.
+
+"What's the matter, Cap?" inquired Spurling. "Any trouble with
+lobsters?"
+
+"No," replied the captain, soberly, "there's no trouble with lobsters,
+so far as I know. Haven't met with any losses to speak of, and I'm
+paying twenty-five cents a pound. But something's happened to a friend
+of yours. Remember that stranger who made you a call a couple of weeks
+ago?"
+
+"Sure! What about him?"
+
+"Well, coming across from Swan's Island yesterday afternoon, I nearly
+ran over a boat, bottom up, close to Griffin Ledge. I managed to spell
+out the name on her stem; it was the old _Helen_. Thorpe had made his
+sheet fast once too often, as I've always said he would. So he's gone,
+dog, cats, and the whole shooting-match. I cruised about for a while to
+see if I could find anything, but it wasn't any use; the tide runs over
+those ledges like a river. The old fellow had a good streak in him, and
+I'm all-fired sorry he had to go that way. It only shows what rum can do
+for a man, if you give it a fair chance."
+
+The tragic news had a sobering effect upon the boys. Percy, in
+particular, remembering the habits of certain of his friends, took the
+story to heart. Nobody said anything more until they were inside the
+cove and running toward the lobster-car. Budge and Throppy saw them
+coming and rowed out in the pea-pod.
+
+While the lobsters were being dipped aboard the smack and weighed,
+Spurling tinkered the _Barracouta's_ engine. At last he discovered the
+cause of the breakdown.
+
+"Broken piston-rod!" he exclaimed. "That means a trip to Matinicus. And
+we've got to go right away, so we can get back before night ahead of the
+storm that's coming. We must fix that engine, or we may lose two or
+three days' good fishing, after the sea smooths down. Perce, you and
+I'll go in the dory. You other fellows'll have to dress those hake alone
+this time."
+
+"I'll tow you across, Jimmy," offered Higgins. "But it looks a bit
+smurry to me. I think there may be a norther coming; and you wouldn't
+want to get caught out in that. Remember what happened to Bill Carlin!"
+
+"I know," answered Spurling. "But that engine's no good without a
+piston-rod. I was born in a dory. Besides, if it should blow too hard,
+we can stop on Wooden Ball or Seal Island."
+
+A few minutes later the _Calista_, with Jim and Percy aboard and the
+dory in tow, was moving away from Tarpaulin. An easy run of two hours
+brought them to Matinicus. Higgins dropped his anchor in the outer
+harbor near Wheaton's Island, and the boys rowed ashore in their dory,
+landing in the head of the little cove near the fish-wharf.
+
+Percy made a few necessary purchases at the store while Jim attended to
+the piston-rod. A half-hour later they were pushing off the dory, ready
+for their long row back. The sky was hazy and the sea calm. In the outer
+harbor Captain Ben hailed them from the _Calista_.
+
+"Be good to yourselves, boys, and don't risk too much. You won't have
+any trouble getting to Seal Island; if it looks bad, you'd better hang
+up there with Pliny Ferguson. He'll be glad of company at his shack for
+the next two days; for, unless I'm 'way off, there won't be many trawls
+set or traps pulled until next Monday. I'm going to stick to Matinicus
+till the blow is over."
+
+It was still calm when they passed the Black Ledges and headed for the
+northeast point of Wooden Ball. Jim was rowing, and the dory drove
+easily onward under his powerful strokes.
+
+Percy looked north. The mountains on the mainland had vanished, and even
+the heights on Vinalhaven were being blotted out; but as yet not a
+breath of air disturbed the glassy, undulating sea.
+
+They were now only a few hundred feet north of the ledges on the
+extremity of the Ball. The swell was breaking white against its
+barnacled granite boulders in a long, crashing rumble.
+
+"Let me spell you at the oars, Jim," said Percy.
+
+"Don't care if you do! And pass that bag of hard bread forward! I feel
+hungry enough to eat the whole of it. Wonder what Filippo'll have for
+supper to-night!"
+
+The boys had been in such a hurry to get away from Matinicus that they
+had not taken time for any dinner; so both had keen appetites. Jim made
+a hearty lunch on the crisp crackers. Percy's mouth watered as he swung
+to and fro at the oars, facing his companion. Ten weeks ago he would
+have disdained such plain fare; but now he could eat it with a relish.
+His gristle was hardening into bone.
+
+Four or five of the brittle disks satisfied Jim's hunger.
+
+"Your turn now, Perce! Let me take her again!"
+
+"Hadn't I better row a little longer?"
+
+"No! I feel good for five miles. Those crackers put the strength into a
+man."
+
+Percy attacked the bag with an appetite equal to Jim's. Malcolm's Ledges
+were near, breaking white half-way from the Ball to Seal Island. To
+Percy's ears the roar of the surf sounded louder.
+
+"Sea's making up a bit, isn't it, Jim?"
+
+"Yes; but I don't think it'll amount to anything for a long time yet."
+
+Down swept a squall from the north, roughening and darkening the water.
+The dory careened a trifle as it smote her side.
+
+"Well, Perce, we're more than a third of the way home. There's Brimstone
+Point, eight miles ahead. We may see a little rough water before we get
+there. Lucky you're not seasick nowadays!"
+
+The squall passed, but left a steady breeze blowing in its wake. The sky
+was gray, the sea leaden. The horizon all around seemed to be
+contracting, and the familiar islands were losing their height.
+
+They ran to leeward of the breaker on Gully Ledge, and passed into
+smooth water under the protecting barrier of Seal Island. Pliny
+Ferguson's shack was in plain view, and its owner came out and swung his
+hand to them. Spurling remembered Captain Higgins's advice, and
+hesitated.
+
+"What do you say, Perce? I'll put it up to you. Shall we keep on or stop
+here with Pliny? Seems to me there isn't the least doubt about our
+reaching the island before dark; but I don't want to make you run any
+needless risk. So I'll do as you say. Pliny'll be glad to make us
+comfortable, and we can slip across after the gale is over."
+
+Percy scanned the steep, desolate cliffs a half-mile to the north.
+
+"What would you do if you were alone, Jim?"
+
+"Make for Tarpaulin as fast as oars would take me."
+
+"Then I say keep on!"
+
+"Keep on it is, then," assented Spurling.
+
+Shielded from the wind by the high shore, the dory sped on east by
+south. The island was over a mile long. When they emerged from the
+protection of the ledges on its eastern end they could see that the
+breeze had increased in force. Up to windward in the direction of Isle
+au Haut Bay occasional white-caps were breaking.
+
+Spurling stopped rowing and took a long look around. Then he pulled off
+his sweater, settled himself firmly on the thwart, and braced his heels
+against the timber nailed across the bottom of the dory. His oar-blades
+caught the water with a long, steady stroke.
+
+"We'll head north of the island," he said to Percy, after a few minutes
+of vigorous rowing. "The flood'll be running for the next three hours,
+and that'd naturally set us toward the north; but before we get to
+Tarpaulin the wind'll be blowing us the other way. We've got to allow
+for both."
+
+Fifteen minutes went by, thirty, a full hour. Little by little Seal
+Island sank behind them and the familiar outlines of Tarpaulin loomed
+clearer and higher. The increasing breeze, blowing against the ocean
+current, kicked up a lively chop, on which the dory danced skittishly.
+It took all Spurling's strength and skill to drive her onward.
+
+At four o'clock they still had between four and five miles to go. The
+sea was alive with white horses. As the boat fell into the trough Percy
+momentarily lost sight of the island. He now recognized Spurling's
+wisdom in heading so far north of their goal. But for that they would
+inevitably have been blown off their course.
+
+Jim was buckling to his task like a Trojan. Bare-headed, shirt open at
+the neck, sleeves rolled up above his elbows, he swayed to and fro, a
+tireless, human machine. His blades entered the rough sea cleanly and
+came out on the feather. Admiringly, almost enviously, Percy watched the
+play of the banded muscles on his brawny forearms. He would have given
+anything to be as strong as his dory-mate.
+
+Past five o'clock, and still over two miles to the island. It was
+growing rougher every minute. The gale had fairly begun. It sheared the
+crests off the racing billows and flung them over the boat in showers of
+spray. Now and then a bucketful came aboard. It kept Percy busy bailing.
+
+Occasionally Jim brought the dory head to the wind and lay on his oars
+to rest. After all, human muscles, powerful as they may be, are not
+steel and india-rubber.
+
+"Pretty rough, isn't it?" said he, at one of these intervals. "Seasick,
+old man? You look a little white around the gills."
+
+Percy shook his head. The situation was too serious for seasickness. In
+spite of the jocularity of his words, Jim's voice sounded hollow. Both
+of them knew that it meant a hard fight to reach Tarpaulin.
+
+Silence, gray and leaden as the misty sky, settled over the dory.
+Spurling was throwing all the strength he possessed into every stroke;
+Percy bailed continuously. It took considerably more than an hour to
+make the next mile and a half. A rainy haze, driving down from the
+north, had shrouded the island, and Brimstone Point was barely visible.
+
+Jim's strokes were slower; they lacked their earlier force. His face
+showed the strain of the last hour. Uneasily Percy noted these signs of
+weariness.
+
+"Tired, Jim?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The brief monosyllable struck Percy with dismay. If Spurling's strength
+should give out, what would happen to the dory?
+
+"Don't you want me to row awhile?"
+
+"You can take her for a few minutes."
+
+Scrambling forward, Percy grasped the oars and took Jim's place on the
+thwart. The latter lay down flat on his back in the bottom of the dory.
+Apparently he was not far from complete exhaustion.
+
+"Keep her up into the wind as well as you can," he directed.
+
+Percy did his best; but he found it a hard job. The gale, now far
+stronger than the tide that flowed against it under the surface, was
+forcing them steadily southward. Brimstone Point could just be seen, a
+half-mile to the northeast.
+
+Though he pulled his heart out, Percy could tell that he was losing
+ground, or rather water, every second. The wind mocked his efforts. He
+could not keep the boat on her course. Big rollers swashed against the
+port bow and broke aboard. Jim raised a drenched face, haggard with
+weariness, and took in the situation.
+
+"Harder, Perce!" he urged. "Hold her up till I can get my breath. It's
+the ocean for us to-night, if we don't hit Brimstone."
+
+Spurred by this exhortation, Percy jerked at the oars savagely and
+unskilfully. As he swayed back there was a sharp snap, and the starboard
+oar broke squarely, just above the blade.
+
+Round swung the dory, head to the south. Up started Spurling with a cry
+of alarm, his fatigue forgotten.
+
+"You've done it now!"
+
+Wrenching the port oar from his horrified mate, he sprang aft, dropped
+it in the notch on the stern, headed the boat once more for the island,
+and began sculling with all his might.
+
+It was a hopeless attempt. However strong he might be, no man with only
+one oar could make headway into the teeth of such a gale. For a time his
+desperate efforts held the dory in her place. Then little by little she
+began to go astern.
+
+With sinking heart Percy watched Spurling's shoulders rack and twist as
+he threw his last ounce into his sculling. By degrees his motions became
+slower and more painful. Suddenly he pulled in the oar and dropped it
+clattering aboard.
+
+"No use!" he groaned as he toppled backward and collapsed in the bottom
+of the dory.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+BUOY OR BREAKER
+
+
+Consternation seized Percy. Never before had he known Jim to acknowledge
+himself beaten. Their plight must be serious indeed.
+
+The dory swung side to the sea and sank into the trough. A half-barrel
+of water slopped aboard. Percy bestirred himself. Setting the oar in the
+scull-hole, he brought the boat's head once more into the wind. He was
+not strong enough to drive her against it; but he could at least keep
+her pointed into the teeth of the gale and prevent her from swamping. He
+dropped to his knees, for it was too rough for him to keep his balance
+if he stood upright.
+
+How far off was Tarpaulin? As he looked back a red glare sprang up
+northeast. Budge and Throppy had fired the driftwood beacon on Brimstone
+Point. Small good it would do Jim and himself to-night.
+
+They could not reach the island with one oar, and it was now too dark
+for their friends on Tarpaulin to make out the drifting dory.
+
+Percy began sculling frantically.
+
+"Hi! Hi! Hulloo-oo!" he yelled. "Oh, Budge! Oh, Throppy! We're going to
+sea! Come out and get us!"
+
+It was like shouting against a solid wall. His cries were whirled away
+by the gale. Presently he became silent, realizing that he was wasting
+his breath.
+
+Rapidly the dory drifted seaward. The fire dimmed to a misty red glow. A
+smart shower burst, and great drops spattered over the dory.
+
+Jim sat up. He turned his face toward the island, and Percy knew his
+eyes had caught the dying beacon. He said nothing; there was nothing to
+say. In a little while all was black, north, east, south, and west.
+
+Then Jim spoke, and his voice was as calm and deliberate as if he were
+in the cabin on the island, instead of a mile to leeward, driving to sea
+before a norther.
+
+"Well, Perce, we're in for it! I'm sorry I spoke so sharp when you broke
+that oar. It's an accident liable to happen to anybody. Let's take
+account of stock! We're in for a night and more on the water, and we
+want to do our best to keep on top of it, and not under it, until the
+gale blows itself out. The prospect isn't exactly rosy; still, it might
+be a blamed sight worse. We're in a good dory, and that's the best sea
+boat that floats."
+
+"Aren't we likely to be picked up before morning?"
+
+"Pretty slim chance. Everything small has scooted to harbor long before
+this. We haven't any light, and a vessel or steamer large enough to pay
+no attention to the storm would be as liable to run us down as to pick
+us up. So about the best we can hope for is to have everything give us a
+wide berth until daylight."
+
+"Will the gale last as long as that?"
+
+"Longer, I'm afraid. 'Most always we have one good, big norther in
+August that blows two or three days. I'm really the one to blame for
+getting us into this mess. I know the sea, and you don't. I ought to
+have had brains enough to stop on Seal Island. Well, it's no use crying
+over spilled milk. The only thing now is to try not to spill any more."
+
+The rain was descending in torrents. Storm and night drew a narrow
+circle of gloom about the reeling boat.
+
+Spurling tried to rise to his feet. The dory jumped like a bucking
+horse, and he caught the gunwale just in time to escape being pitched
+overboard.
+
+"Jerusalem!" he gasped. "Guess I won't try that again! Hands and knees
+are good enough for me. Hold her, Perce! I'll throw out some of this
+water."
+
+Kneeling in the flood that swashed from bow to stern, he bailed
+vigorously until the boat was fairly clear.
+
+"No use wearing ourselves out trying to keep her head to it with the
+oar!" said he. "I'm going to rig a drug!"
+
+Directly under Percy's arms, as he sculled, was a trawl-tub containing
+their purchases at Matinicus. These Jim tossed into the stern. Taking
+the tub, he crept forward. A lanyard of six-thread manila, put across
+double between holes in the top of its sides, formed a rope bridle or
+bail. To the middle of this bail Jim tied the thirty-foot painter with a
+clove hitch. Then he dropped the tub over the bow.
+
+"Pull in your oar, Perce!" he called out.
+
+Percy obeyed gladly. A heavy sea struck the dory. She reared, shot back,
+and started to swing sidewise. Then the "drug" caught her, and she
+seesawed again up into the wind and rode springily.
+
+The tub, filled with water, and drifting on its side thirty feet before
+the bow at the end of the straightened-out painter, formed a floating
+anchor, which held the dory head to the wind and sea. Practically
+submerged, and offering the gale no surface to get hold of, it moved
+much more slowly than the high-sided boat, and so retarded its course.
+
+Jim came crawling aft again.
+
+"Guess that'll hold her!" he exclaimed. "I've strengthened the lanyard
+with some ground-line, and it ought to last us through the night. We'll
+be as snug as if we were in Sprowl's Cove, hey, Perce?"
+
+Percy could hardly agree with him. The roaring, rain-shot blackness,
+roofed with murky clouds and floored with rushing surges, was not
+calculated to inspire confidence in a landsman. With every sea the dory
+leaped back several feet, until the straightened painter brought her up.
+Showers of spray flew over the boys. It was well both were clad in
+oilskins.
+
+They were not entirely without light. The water was firing. Every
+breaking wave dissolved in phosphorescence. The tub before the bow was
+outlined in radiance; the whipping painter was transmuted to a rope of
+silver; and as the dory split the crashing rollers they streamed away in
+sparkles of ghostly flame. Even in their peril the boys could not help
+appreciating the weird beauty of the display.
+
+"Wonderful, isn't it?" said Percy. "Say, Jim, how far south's the
+nearest land?"
+
+"Somewhere around two thousand miles, I guess. Too far to interest us
+any. I think it's one of the West Indies."
+
+The wind was growing stronger, the sea rougher. Now and then a young
+flood set both boys bailing, Jim with the bucket, Percy with the scoop.
+
+"Won't do to let it gain too much on us," remarked Jim. "She can't sink;
+but if she should fill it'd be pretty uncomfortable."
+
+The rain had ceased; the clouds did not hang so low. Suddenly Percy gave
+a whoop of joy.
+
+"Look in the west!"
+
+Not far above the horizon appeared a rift of clear blue sky, sown with
+stars. Longer and wider it grew. Other rifts added themselves to it, and
+in an unbelievably short time the entire heaven was swept clean. But
+somehow the wind seemed to blow harder than before.
+
+"How soon will it calm down?" asked Percy.
+
+Jim shook his head.
+
+"Can't say! May be a dry blow for two days longer."
+
+He looked eastward.
+
+"What's that coming? Steamer?"
+
+Sure enough it was. Below the white light on the masthead appeared and
+disappeared the red and green, obscured intermittently by the tossing
+waves. Soon they could be seen all the time. Percy began to grow
+excited.
+
+"Suppose they'll pick us up?"
+
+"Not a chance in a thousand. It's too rough for the lookout to spy our
+boat, and, even if the steamer should come close, we could never make
+her hear. She's either a tramp or an ocean liner from Halifax for
+Portland."
+
+On she plowed unswervingly and majestically, straight toward them.
+
+"I'm afraid she's coming too near for comfort," said Jim, anxiously.
+"She might run us down and never know it. Lots of fishermen have gone
+that way. Ship that oar in the scull-hole. I'm going to haul in the
+drug."
+
+He lifted the trawl-tub aboard and sprang quickly aft.
+
+"We'll know pretty quick whether she's likely to pass ahead or astern.
+We can't count on being seen. We've got to look out for ourselves."
+
+Freed from its floating anchor, the dory bobbed wildly. Wielding his oar
+skilfully, Spurling held her bow to the north, ready to scull for the
+last inch, or to let her drop back, as the approach of the steamer might
+make it advisable.
+
+Closer and closer came the big boat; her lights oscillated with
+pendulum-like regularity as she rolled on the heavy seas.
+
+"She'll pass astern," was Jim's verdict. "Won't do to drift in front of
+her."
+
+He sculled strongly, keeping an anxious eye on the threatening monster.
+Percy's hair bristled.
+
+"Harder, Jim!" he shouted. "She's going to run us down! Steamer ahoy!
+Keep off! Keep off!"
+
+The rushing foam smothered his cries. Meanwhile Spurling worked like a
+steam-engine. Two lives hung on his oar-blade.
+
+As the knife-like stem sheared past, close astern, the green eye
+disappeared; the red glared menacingly down from the huge bulk looming
+overhead. Then the lofty black side swept by, flashing an occasional ray
+from a lighted port-hole. The screw gave them a sickening moment, but
+they soon tossed safely astern, breathing hard, eyes on the dwindling
+leviathan, wallowing westward.
+
+Jim spoke first: "Close as they make 'em! I'm glad that's over!"
+
+Percy agreed with all his heart. Jim had discovered that the tub was
+becoming a bit shaky, so he reinforced the lanyard, and strengthened the
+bottom by binding it with ground-line. Before long it was towing again
+in front of the bow, as good as new.
+
+Hours passed, but the intensity of the gale did not slacken. The sea was
+frightfully rough. It kept the boys bailing continually.
+
+Dawn broke at last. On the eastern horizon grew a pale light, against
+which the ragged, savagely leaping crests were silhouetted weirdly. It
+brightened to a crimson glow, and soon the sun was shooting its fiery
+arrows across the heaving, glittering waste.
+
+The forenoon wore slowly on as they drifted steadily south. The water
+around the dory was alive with whirlpools. Gigantic green seas rushed
+down as if to overwhelm her, but she flirted her bow aloft and rode them
+stanchly.
+
+Percy, glancing to starboard, saw a black fin cutting the slope of a
+watery ridge.
+
+"Shark, Jim?"
+
+"Yes. And there's another to port. They're looking for trouble. They'll
+stick by till we're out of this scrape or in a worse one."
+
+He was right. The sun reached its zenith and began to descend, but still
+the black fins wove their ceaseless circles round the boat.
+
+Jim had been scanning the sea, hand over his eyes.
+
+"There's a schooner," he remarked, without enthusiasm.
+
+Percy was all excitement.
+
+"Where? Where?"
+
+"Up there, two miles to windward. Double reefed and clawing west. She'd
+never see us in a thousand years, and if she did she couldn't do us any
+good. Forget her!"
+
+The schooner inched her way imperceptibly under the horizon. The boys
+had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours; excitement had prevented them
+from feeling hungry. Now they came to a realization that they had
+stomachs, and they finished half the hard bread remaining in the bag.
+
+"We'll save the rest," decided Jim. "May need it worse later than we do
+now."
+
+Percy could easily have eaten twice his share, but he recognized the
+wisdom of Jim's decision. Both were very thirsty, but without a drop of
+fresh water aboard there was nothing to do but wait.
+
+At four o'clock came disaster. The drug suddenly let go!
+
+Round whirled the dory, side to the seas. Jim grabbed the oar and jammed
+it into the scull-hole, but before he could wet the blade a crumbling
+roller almost swamped the boat. Out went everything that would float.
+
+"Save that bucket, Perce!" shouted Spurring.
+
+Percy clutched the handle just as the pail was going over the side. He
+bailed, while Spurling brought the flooded craft stern to the seas.
+
+"Take her now, Perce! Give me the bucket!"
+
+Furiously he began scooping out the water. After a long, discouraging
+fight the boat was bailed clear.
+
+"We've got to run before it while I rig another drug," said Spurling.
+"Keep her as she is."
+
+In the stern stood a five-gallon can of gasolene, one of the few things
+that had not been washed overboard when the dory filled. Making use of
+the sadly diminished coil of ground-line, Jim fastened this can to the
+end of the painter. Picking a smooth chance, he swung the bow up into
+the wind again; and soon they were floating snugly behind their new
+drug.
+
+For another hour they drifted uneventfully. Out of a cloudless sky the
+red sun dropped below the flying spindrift. A second night was coming,
+and still the norther raged with undiminished violence.
+
+It was growing dark and the stars were already out when a new sound fell
+on Percy's ears.
+
+"What's that?" he exclaimed.
+
+Up from the south came a faint, long-drawn, mournful voice,
+_Oo-oo-oo-ooh!_ They listened breathlessly. It sounded again,
+_Oo-oo-oo-ooh!_
+
+"Whistling buoy!" ejaculated Jim. He thought a moment. "Cashe's Ledge!"
+he shouted. "Sixty miles south of Tarpaulin! That's drifting some since
+yesterday afternoon. Must be less than a mile to leeward or we couldn't
+hear it against this gale."
+
+Nearer and nearer, louder and louder, sounded the melancholy note, just
+west of south. Both boys strained their eyes.
+
+"I see it!" cried Percy, triumphantly. "There--rising on that swell!
+Almost astern! It's striped red and black!"
+
+But Jim gave him no heed. Lips parted and face pale, he was gazing
+intently at something farther off. Suddenly he lifted his hand.
+
+"Listen! Do you hear that?"
+
+Above the noise of the surrounding sea rose a low, savage roar. Percy
+caught Jim's alarm.
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"The breaker on the shoal! Sometimes it combs up high as a house. It's
+less than a quarter-mile southwest of the buoy, and we're drifting
+straight down upon it! If we go over it, we'll be swamped, sure as fate,
+drug or no drug! We'll simply be buried under tons and tons of water!"
+
+Percy fought off his panic.
+
+"What shall we do?" he stammered.
+
+"Make the whistler--if we can. It's buoy or breaker, and mighty quick,
+too!"
+
+The dory's drift, if unchanged, would take her several yards west of the
+steel can crowned with its red whistle-cage. Its warning blast set the
+air vibrating, _Oo-oo-oo-ooh!_
+
+Jim snatched out his knife and sprang forward.
+
+"Oar in the scull-hole, Perce! Lively!"
+
+Driving the point of his blade into the side of the bow, he dragged the
+painter in until he reached the gasolene-can. Severing the rope with one
+quick, strong slash, he scrambled aft and seized the oar.
+
+"Stand by with that painter to jump for the buoy, when I put the bow
+against it! Better take off your shoes first!"
+
+Percy obeyed. In his stocking feet he would be less liable to slip on
+the wet iron. Making a loose coil of the painter, he crouched in the
+bow. Meanwhile Jim had turned the dory round and headed her north of the
+whistler. A strong current was setting toward the shoal. It took all his
+strength to scull against it.
+
+Rapidly they neared the can. About eight feet in diameter at the
+water-line, it tapered to two feet across its flat top, seven feet
+above. From the circumference rose two iron bails, crossing each other
+at right angles, several inches above the whistle, which stood two and
+one-half feet high. A little to one side stuck up the small tube of the
+intake valve. Round the buoy above the water-line were bolted four lugs,
+or iron handles, by which the can could be hoisted on board the
+lighthouse steamer.
+
+As the steel cone sank the whistle bellowed resonantly. Down, down, till
+the waves swept over its top. Then, slowly it began to rise. The
+bellowing cut off, and the air rushed into the intake tube.
+
+Percy watched it, fascinated. Jim's voice roused him to their peril.
+
+"Look sharp! Be ready!"
+
+Less than ten feet of wild black water lay between the madly leaping bow
+and the buoy. Beyond it the shoal broke with an angry roar in a long
+line of crumbling foam. Percy gathered his strength for the leap.
+
+The distance lessened, foot by foot. Foot by foot the red-and-black cone
+emerged, as if thrust up by a giant hand. Percy fastened his eyes on a
+lug.
+
+A grayback heaved the dory forward.
+
+"Now!" screamed Jim.
+
+Young Whittington sprang upon the bow thwart, painter end in his right
+hand, and leaped for the lug. A second later the boat crashed against
+the buoy.
+
+His left hand caught the bent iron bar; his right missed it. His body
+thudded against the riveted side, slid down, and he hung by one arm,
+waist-deep in the water.
+
+OO-OO-OO-OOH!!!
+
+From the inverted mouth of the whistle, a few feet above, a hoarse,
+deafening blast roared down into his face.
+
+As he flung up his right hand and passed the end of the painter through
+the lug a body shot over his head. Spurling had leaped on the top of the
+dropping buoy. Percy was dragged down under the surface, the whistle
+still ringing in his ears. He clung desperately to lug and painter.
+
+The vibrations ceased. The can had reached its lowest point. It was
+rising again. Out came his head.
+
+"Can you hold on a minute, Perce?" roared Spurling's voice.
+
+"Yes," strangled Percy.
+
+"Then let go that painter! I've got it."
+
+Hanging head down, his legs twined round a bail, Spurling worked rapidly
+with both hands. Soon he had fastened the rope securely to the lug,
+mooring the dory to the buoy.
+
+OO-OO-OO-OOH!
+
+The can was sinking again. Putting both hands under Percy's arms, Jim
+lifted him. Then he lowered his grip to the boy's waist. That terrific
+blast rendered speech inaudible, but Percy understood. As the water
+raised part of his weight, he scrambled up over his friend's body.
+
+Thirty seconds later, drenched and gasping, they stood clinging to the
+bails on the top of the buoy.
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+ON THE WHISTLER
+
+
+Jim was the first to recover his breath.
+
+"Well!" he ejaculated. "Here we are! And mighty fortunate! We'll neither
+of us ever have a closer shave."
+
+He looked southwest, where the ledge was breaking white through the
+gloom, and shook his head. Percy, shivering with excitement, said
+nothing; but he felt as thankful as his mate. They stood close together
+on the circular top, holding on to the crossed bails, waist-high.
+Between them rose the whistle, thirty inches tall. Every time they sank
+in the trough it emitted its dismal bellow.
+
+To leeward the dory wallowed at the end of her painter, almost full of
+water.
+
+"Split her bow when we struck," said Spurling. "Just as well not to be
+in her. At any rate, we're not drifting."
+
+Their position, however, was none too secure. The buoy had a rise and
+fall of seven feet. Unsteadied by keel or rudder, it bobbed unexpectedly
+this way and that. The boys were obliged to cling fast to keep their
+footing on the narrow, slippery top.
+
+A sudden jump of the rolling can wrenched Percy's right hand from its
+hold. But for his left, he would have been flung into the sea.
+
+"That won't do," said Spurling.
+
+Producing a coil of line, he took three or four turns round Percy's
+waist, and lashed him fast to the bails. He did the same for himself.
+
+"Guess we'll stick on now," he remarked.
+
+"Where did you get that rope?" asked Percy.
+
+"It's all that's left of the ground-line. Thought it might come in
+handy, so I jammed it inside my oil-coat before I jumped. Never can tell
+when you'll need a few feet for something or other."
+
+The screech of the buoy, recurring regularly, set their ears ringing.
+
+"We've got to choke that off!" exclaimed Spurling, finally. "We'll go
+crazy, sure, if we have to listen to it all night."
+
+"How'll you do it? Jam something into the mouth of the whistle?"
+
+"Might smother it that way, but I know an easier one."
+
+He pushed his handkerchief into the curved end of the intake tube just
+as the bellowing buoy reached its lowest point. The next time it sank
+there was no sound.
+
+"Can't sing out unless it fills up with air," remarked Spurling. "It's
+human, so far!"
+
+"Is it all right to shut the signal off altogether? Mightn't some vessel
+strike the shoal if she doesn't hear it?"
+
+"Not much chance of that to-night! Everything'll give Cashe's a wide
+berth in a norther. But I'll let it scream a few times every ten
+minutes. That'll be often enough to warn off any craft within
+hearing."
+
+[Illustration: THEY STOOD CLOSE TOGETHER ON THE CIRCULAR TOP, HOLDING ON
+TO THE CROSSED BAILS, WAIST-HIGH]
+
+The last red embers of the sunset died out, and from horizon to horizon
+the sky was ablaze with stars. Even the boys, wet, hungry, and
+exhausted, could not be blind to such magnificence.
+
+"Good evening to study astronomy, Perce!"
+
+"Never saw a finer! But I'd want a steadier foundation than this for my
+telescope."
+
+As on the previous night, the sea was aglow with phosphorescence. Every
+wave was crested with silver. Buoy and tugging dory kept the water alive
+with light as they rose and fell. Leeward the long shoal broke in
+glittering foam.
+
+Spurling gazed silently down into the eddying tide.
+
+"Runs fast, doesn't it?" said Percy.
+
+"Yes; it's the ebb out of Fundy. Comes piling down over Cashe's at a
+two-knot rate. When the flood begins it'll run just as hard the other
+way. That's what makes the shoal so dangerous. There's only from four to
+seven fathoms over the ledge at low water, and that's little enough in a
+storm."
+
+"Were you ever down here before?"
+
+"No; but I've heard Uncle Tom Sprowl tell about the place dozens of
+times. Once, in particular, he was here in a schooner, hand-lining. It
+was almost calm, just a light east wind blowing, when they anchored an
+eighth of a mile to weather of the shoal. Pretty soon the decks were
+alive with fish. It kept breezing on all the time, and the ledge broke
+higher and higher; but they were having such good luck they hated to
+leave. So they hung to it till it got too rough for a small boat, and
+the breaker was twenty or thirty feet high. There was a big cod or
+haddock on every line, when all of a sudden the cable parted and they
+began to blow down on the ledge. It took some lively work to save the
+schooner and themselves. They got sail on her just in time to skin by
+the end of the breaker. Uncle Tom's been out in some pretty bad storms,
+but he's always said the time he parted his cable on Cashe's was the
+closest shave he ever had. See that shark!"
+
+Ten yards off, just under the surface, appeared the glittering outlines
+of a great fish. It moved leisurely, its projecting fin making a silver
+ripple.
+
+"Twelve feet, if he's an inch! I'd hate to fall overboard while he's
+around."
+
+"Think he's a man-eater?"
+
+"Don't know! But I'd rather let somebody else find out. There's another!
+I've heard fishermen say the sea round here's alive with 'em. I haven't
+a doubt but those two fellows that chased us to-day are somewhere about.
+Once they get after a boat, they'll follow it till the cows come home.
+Guess I'll let Ole Bull give us a few notes!"
+
+He pulled his handkerchief out of the intake tube. Presently the voice
+of the whistle was echoing across the sea. After a half-dozen screeches
+Spurling stopped up the tube again.
+
+"That'll do for now! We'll give him another chance in ten minutes."
+
+Up and down went the buoy, pitching and reeling dizzily. An occasional
+wave-crest buried the boys to the waist.
+
+"No place for a man with a weak stomach, hey, Perce," said Spurling.
+"You couldn't have stood this two months ago."
+
+Percy was gazing intently southward.
+
+"What's that white spot?" he asked, suddenly, pointing to a glittering
+patch fifty or sixty yards square.
+
+"School of herring! Now look out for some fun! Something's liable to be
+after 'em any minute."
+
+Hardly had the words left Jim's mouth when a great white streak moved
+rapidly toward the schooling fish.
+
+"Whale!" shouted Spurling, excitedly. "Watch out!"
+
+With a tremendous rush the huge, gleaming body shot suddenly clear of
+the water. For an instant it hung suspended, ten feet above the surface.
+Then, with a mighty splash, it dropped back, right amid the herring. The
+glittering school dispersed in a thousand directions, and the monster
+moved slowly off to the south.
+
+"Biggest whale I ever saw," observed Jim. "Fully seventy feet long!
+Well, he's had one good meal. Wish we could say the same! Hungry, old
+man?"
+
+"Yes; but more thirsty."
+
+"Stick to it! Somebody's likely to show up at any time to-morrow and
+take us off."
+
+"But if they don't--"
+
+"We'll have to hang on till they do."
+
+Percy could hardly stand upright. His joints ached. His eyelids sagged
+heavily for want of sleep. He would have given anything if he could have
+lain down. But that was impossible. Something of his father's
+doggedness enabled him to set his teeth and stand clinging to the bails.
+
+Their plight was bad enough, but it might have been much worse. Percy
+shivered a bit as he looked at the wallowing dory and the breaker beyond
+it.
+
+The buoy could not drift. It could not founder. It afforded them a safe
+refuge from wind and sea; but it could not give them food or drink.
+
+Particularly drink. Every atom in Percy's body, every corpuscle in his
+blood, seemed to be crying out for water. It did not seem as if he could
+endure it. He was almost desperate enough to quench his thirst from the
+sea. But, no! Men who did that went crazy. He moistened his dry lips
+with his tongue. If only he could have had a full dipper from the spring
+behind the camp! And he had turned up his nose because it was brackish!
+
+"Wish I had some of Filippo's hot biscuits!" said Jim. "I can taste 'em
+now."
+
+"Don't, Jim! It makes me feel worse. How long can a man stand it without
+eating and drinking?"
+
+"There was a fisherman out of Bass Harbor, last October, who went in a
+power-boat to Clay Bank after hake. His engine played out and he got
+blown off by a northwester. For over five days he didn't have a thing to
+eat or drink. Then he got back to Mount Desert Rock. That's the longest
+I ever heard of."
+
+Five days! And they had not yet gone two. Percy became silent again.
+
+The night dragged painfully. With mortal slowness the Great Bear circled
+the Pole Star. Jim was acquainted with the principal constellations, and
+he ran them over for Percy's benefit. Gradually, however, their
+conversation lagged. You cannot feel much interest in astronomy when
+your eyes feel as if they were being pressed down by leaden weights and
+your stomach is absolutely empty.
+
+Percy's body drooped over the bails. Though the position was horribly
+uncomfortable, he had all he could do to prevent himself from going to
+sleep, even despite the occasional screeches of the whistle. With an
+immense effort he stiffened himself upright. Jim was gazing down into
+the water.
+
+"It's going to moderate before long," he remarked, casually.
+
+Percy came wide awake in an instant.
+
+"How can you tell? It's blowing as hard as ever."
+
+"I know that. But the tide doesn't run so strong against the buoy. Just
+as it always makes up before the wind comes, so it begins to go down
+before the wind lessens. I believe the gale'll blow itself out by the
+middle of the forenoon."
+
+The news seemed too good to be true; but it dispelled Percy's
+drowsiness. He pried his eyes open and stared around.
+
+The waves were still running high and breaking in fiery sparkles. The
+silver sharks unwearyingly kept their silent vigil about the rocking
+buoy. Up the eastern horizon was stealing a faint pallor, harbinger of
+the approaching dawn.
+
+Lighter and lighter it grew. The gulls, which had been floating on the
+water all night, began to take wing and fill the air with their grating
+cries. The phosphorescence died out of the sea. Another day had begun.
+
+Raising his right hand, Spurling turned its open palm toward the north.
+
+"What did I tell you?" he exclaimed. "The wind is going down."
+
+Even Percy could see that it was not blowing so hard. The water, too,
+had grown much smoother, and the roar of the breaker was not so loud.
+
+"It'll be calm as a mill-pond in a few hours," remarked Jim. "By noon
+there ought to be some fishermen out here. They always start from
+Portland on the end of a norther, and run for this buoy to make their
+grounds from. All we've got to do now is to hold on and wait."
+
+He pulled in the dory and looked her carefully over.
+
+"Bow split open, as I thought," said he. "But apart from that she isn't
+damaged any. A little work'll make her as good as new. And in the stern
+is that box with the piston-rod in it. I'd have hated to lose that,
+after all this fuss. Things might have turned out a good deal worse, eh,
+Perce? But the next time I'll know enough to hang up at Seal Island."
+
+Jim's cheerfulness was contagious. Percy felt better. Though he was
+still tormented by hunger and thirst, the thought that relief might soon
+come gave him courage to endure them. Jim let the dory slip back to the
+end of her painter.
+
+"Might as well take an Indian breakfast."
+
+He buckled his belt a hole tighter.
+
+"Not a sail in sight yet! We could lie down in the dory and go to sleep,
+if she wasn't full of water. But, as things are, we'll have to make
+ourselves as comfortable as we can right here. Let's hope it won't be
+for long!"
+
+The gale weakened to a brisk breeze. The sea fell rapidly to a long,
+lazy swell, on which the buoy rocked drowsily. The warm sun inclined the
+boys to sleep; but they fought it off and scanned the horizon with eager
+eyes. Seven o'clock. Eight. Nine. Ten. And still no sign of a sail.
+
+At half past ten a smoke-feather rose in the east.
+
+"Yarmouth boat on her way to Boston," said Jim. "She'll pass too far
+north to see us."
+
+He was right. The steamer's course kept her on the horizon, several
+miles off. Before long she vanished to the west. Half past eleven went
+by, and no fishermen appeared. Percy began to fear that Jim was
+mistaken, after all.
+
+"Here comes our packet," remarked Spurling, quietly.
+
+A tiny saw-tooth of canvas was rising out of the sea, miles northwest.
+As it grew larger it developed into a schooner under full sail, heading
+straight for the buoy.
+
+"She sees us," said Jim.
+
+Percy felt like dancing for joy. Nearer and nearer came the schooner.
+The boys could see her crew staring curiously at them from along her
+rail. Fifty yards off she shot up into the wind and prepared to launch a
+boat. They could read the name on her starboard bow.
+
+"The _Grade King_," spelled Spurling. "I know her. She's a Harpswell
+vessel. Come out to seine herring. Bet she left Portland early this
+morning. Her captain's Silas Greenlaw; he used to sail with Uncle Tom.
+He'll use us O. K."
+
+A dory with two men in it came rowing toward the buoy.
+
+"How long've you fellows been hanging on here?" shouted a red-sweatered,
+gray-haired man in the stern.
+
+"Since six last night. We blew down from Tarpaulin Island in the
+norther. Don't you know me, Captain Greenlaw?"
+
+"Why, it's Jim Spurling, Tom Sprowl's nephew!" exclaimed the astonished
+captain. "So the gale blew you down from Tarpaulin, eh? Well, all I've
+got to say is that you were confounded lucky to hit the buoy and not the
+breaker. How long since you've had anything to eat or drink?"
+
+"Forty-six hours since we've had a swallow of water, and about twenty
+since we finished our last hard bread."
+
+"Well, well! You must be hungry and thirsty! Come right aboard and we'll
+see what we can do for you."
+
+Gladly the boys cut the lashings that bound them to the bails. The
+whistle gave a screech of farewell as they tumbled stiffly into the
+boat. The solid deck of the _Gracie_ felt good beneath their feet.
+
+"You can have all the water you want, boys; but you'd better go light on
+food at first," cautioned the captain.
+
+It seemed to Percy as if he could never get enough to drink. Gradually,
+however, his thirst was quenched. He began to realize that he had not
+slept for two days and a half.
+
+"I'd like to carry you right back to the island," said Captain Greenlaw,
+"for your friends must be worrying. But there are lots of herring here,
+and I've got to get a load first. That may take two or three days. I'll
+land you at Tarpaulin on my way home. Better turn in and sleep."
+
+The boys were shortly wrapped in a heavy, dreamless slumber. It seemed
+to them as if they had just closed their eyes when they were shaken
+awake again.
+
+"Here's the cutter!" exclaimed the captain. "They got a wireless to hunt
+you up. Going to run in to Rockland, and can land you at Tarpaulin this
+evening. What do you say?"
+
+Tired though they were, Jim and Percy were only too glad of a chance to
+get home speedily. So they were transferred to the _Pollux_, and their
+leaking dory hoisted aboard. Swung in hammocks in the seamen's quarters,
+they were soon slumbering dreamlessly again.
+
+At eight that night the _Pollux_ stopped off the island. The dory, made
+sound and tight by the ship's carpenter, was dropped overboard, and the
+boys rowed into Sprowl's Cove.
+
+Their appearance transformed the gloom that overhung Camp Spurling into
+the wildest joy. Budge, Throppy, and Filippo burst out of the cabin and
+raced headlong down the beach, waking the echoes with their shouts of
+welcome. Even before the dory grounded they tumbled aboard and flung
+their arms about the castaways. No brothers, reunited after deadly
+peril, could have given one another a warmer greeting.
+
+Jim freed his hands at last, stooped, and picked up a package which he
+tossed out on the gravel. There was a suspicious moisture in his eyes.
+
+"There's the piston-rod!" said he in a rather choky voice. "I guess
+we'll get our set all right day after to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+SQUARING AN ACCOUNT
+
+
+It was almost noon the next day before Jim and Percy rolled out of their
+bunks in Camp Spurling. One of Filippo's best dinners satisfied the last
+cravings of their appetites; but for a week they felt the strain of
+their forty-seven hours in the dory and on the buoy.
+
+"When did you reach the _Pollux_, Throppy?" asked Jim.
+
+"I didn't reach her at all. When you didn't show up that night I
+wirelessed Criehaven, and the operator there hit the cutter thirty miles
+to the westward the next forenoon. She began hunting for you right away,
+but it wasn't until twenty-four hours later that she found you on the
+_Gracie King_. We picked up a message from her some time after she took
+you off the schooner. Perhaps it didn't relieve our minds!"
+
+Jim drew a long breath as he glanced round the cabin.
+
+"Seems good to be here! Not a bad old camp, is it, Perce?"
+
+"Never saw a hotel I'd swap it for," replied Percy, promptly.
+
+Two mornings later Budge and Percy started in the sloop for Vinalhaven
+after a load of herring. Jim did not accompany them, as he had decided
+to spend a forenoon hauling and inspecting the lobster-traps. The
+_Barracouta_ ran in alongside Hardy's weir at nine o'clock and took
+aboard thirty bushels of small fish. She then went around to Carver's
+Harbor to purchase supplies and fill her tank with gasolene.
+
+It was Percy's first visit to the town since July 4th, the occasion of
+his disastrous encounter with Jabe. In actual time, his defeat lay only
+a few weeks back; but, measured by the change that had taken place in
+himself, the period might well have been years in length.
+
+Percy was treading hostile ground, and he knew it. Prudence might have
+counseled him to remain on board the _Barracouta_ while Budge was making
+his purchases. Instead, he chose to stroll carelessly along the main
+street. At a corner he passed a group of small boys, who recognized him
+at once.
+
+"It's the fresh guy Jabe licked on the Fourth," he heard one mutter in a
+low tone. "Let's have some fun with him!"
+
+"Sh!" exclaimed another. "Jabe's over in Talcott's grocery. We'll get
+'em together again!"
+
+Never interrupting his leisurely saunter, Percy passed out of hearing.
+But his heart was beating a little quicker and he was conscious of a
+tightening of nerves and muscles. Weeks of secret, painstaking
+preparation were drawing to a climax.
+
+Half-turning his head, he saw a barefooted urchin dash across the street
+and into a store on the other side. Percy began to whistle cheerfully as
+he strode along, alive to all that was taking place behind him.
+Crossing the street, he was able to glance back without appearing to do
+so; and he was just in time to see a stout, freckle-faced, bullet-headed
+youth shoot out of the store and come hurrying after him, with an eager
+crowd of small fry trailing behind.
+
+Still feigning unconsciousness of the approaching peril, Percy
+proceeded, whistling blithely. Through a gap between two buildings he
+had caught sight of a barn standing alone, some distance ahead and well
+to one side of the main street; its door was open, revealing a broad
+stretch of empty floor. He quickened his pace, and presently turned down
+the short street leading to the structure. Jabe and his retinue were
+less than fifty yards behind, and gaining rapidly. As Percy turned the
+corner they broke into a run.
+
+At that same instant young Whittington also began to sprint at top
+speed; and he kept up this pace as long as he felt sure the building on
+the corner concealed him from his pursuers. The second the sound of
+their approaching feet became audible he dropped into his former gait.
+He was now almost opposite the open door of the barn.
+
+His ears told him that Jabe and his crew had also swung into the
+cross-street.
+
+"Hey, there!" shouted a voice, roughly.
+
+Percy halted at once and wheeled about with affected surprise. A side
+glance into the barn told that its mows were well filled and that its
+floor was strewn with hayseed. Standing at ease, he awaited the approach
+of his foes.
+
+Jabe dashed up on the run. Five feet from Percy he came to a sudden stop
+and pushed his bulldog jaw out belligerently.
+
+"Well," he growled, scowling darkly, "I've got you at last just where I
+want you. You can't cry baby now and run to that big, black-haired
+fellow. I'm going to lick you good!"
+
+Percy stared at his enemy in mild wonder.
+
+"What for?" he queried, innocently.
+
+But the outward calm of his tones and manner did not betray, even
+remotely, what was going on beneath. His heart was pumping like an
+engine, the blood coursed hotly through his arteries, and all over his
+body his wiry muscles had tensed and knotted. Nine weeks of vigorous
+life in the open, combined with systematic exercise, taken with the
+possibility in view of some time squaring his account with Jabe, had
+made of him an antagonist that even an older, heavier boy might well
+hesitate to tackle.
+
+Of all this Jabe was ignorant. He saw before him the same fellow he had
+mastered on the evening of the Fourth, a little browner and
+clearer-eyed, possibly a little straighter and stouter, but still the
+same foe his fist had sent to the ground. Jabe knew of no reason why he
+could not easily repeat his victory, and he burned to do so in the
+presence of his admirers. Percy's harmless query roused him to
+unreasoning anger.
+
+"What for?" he mimicked. "What for? Why, because I always intend to
+finish what I begin; and I had you only half-licked when they pulled me
+off. Now I'm going to polish you up to the queen's taste. Hustle into
+that barn!"
+
+Percy allowed himself to be herded through the open door; it might have
+been noticed, however, that he was careful not to turn his back to Jabe,
+and that he stepped springily, with his feet well apart. Once inside,
+he slid his sole over the hayseed that covered the floor; it was no
+slipperier than the carpet of needles in that glade of the evergreens
+where he had practised daily with his improvised punching-bag since the
+second week in July. A quick glance about photographed on his brain the
+details of the arena in which he was so soon to play the gladiator.
+
+Jabe misunderstood the glance, and it increased his eagerness to begin
+the fray.
+
+"Afraid, are you?" he sneered. "Looking for some way out? Well, there
+isn't any besides this door. Line up across it, boys, and trip him if he
+tries to bolt before I get through with him. The rat's cornered at last,
+and now he's _got_ to fight. Peel off that coat, Mister! Move quick. I
+don't want to stop here all day!"
+
+Percy deliberately drew off the garment, folded it into a neat bundle,
+and laid it, with his cap, on a barrel in a corner of the floor. He had
+on a closely fitting black jersey, trousers held up by a belt, and
+rubber-soled tennis sneakers. This costume was not accidental. It had
+been donned that morning with an eye to possibilities and in accordance
+with previous solitary rehearsals. Thus far, events could not have
+suited him better if he had planned them.
+
+His deliberate motions increased Jabe's anger.
+
+"You'll move faster than that when I get after you," he sneered, "or
+it'll be over so quick that there won't be any fun in it. Now put up
+your fists, for I'm going to lick you within an inch of your life! Guard
+that door, boys!"
+
+His grinning satellites lined up across the opening, two deep, eyes and
+mouths wide open. In the front rank Percy recognized the imp who had
+burnt his coat, Jabe's brother, whose chastisement had started the
+trouble. The lad was dancing up and down with pleasurable anticipation.
+
+"Lick him, Jabe!" he shrilled. "Lick him, Jabe!"
+
+Swinging his clenched fists windmill fashion, Jabe made a savage rush
+across the echoing floor. Percy waited until his foe was almost upon
+him, then agilely leaped to one side. Carried on by the momentum of his
+charge, Jabe swept by and smashed against the wooden partition with a
+violence that set the hayseed sifting down from the loaded mow. Whirling
+about, he came back with increased rage.
+
+The boys yelled encouragement to their champion, their voices blending
+in a chorus, topped by his brother's high-keyed falsetto:
+
+"Lick him, Jabe! Lick him, Jabe!"
+
+Baffled in his first attempt, Jabe needed no applause to incite him to
+his best efforts. His fists rose and fell like flails as he spurned the
+flooring in a second onslaught upon his nimble foe. Again Percy,
+standing motionless until his assailant was almost within arm's-length,
+avoided his attack; and again Jabe brought up against the other wall
+with a force that made the boards rattle.
+
+Percy stood untouched a few feet away, smiling slightly, as his opponent
+gathered himself for another rush. The sight of his enemy, cool and
+unruffled, made Jabe furious.
+
+"Why don't you fight, you coward?" he cried. "If only I can reach you
+just once, it'll be all over!"
+
+He hurled himself forward like a missile from a catapult. His right
+fist grazed Percy's cheek. Roused from his policy of inaction, Percy
+shot in a stinging blow that found its mark under Jabe's right ear and
+sent him staggering. The fight was now fairly on.
+
+To and fro across the slippery hayseed the antagonists battled, raising
+a cloud of dust. The floor echoed hollowly under their quick tread.
+
+From the outset Percy knew that he had not a single sympathizer. But
+instead of discouraging him, that fact nerved him to do his utmost. He
+kept himself well in hand and did not waste an effort. If he could
+continue to side-step Jabe's quick rushes, and let the latter tire
+himself out, the fight was as good as won.
+
+It was a very different battle from that on July 4th. Jabe was as good
+as before, but no better; while Percy had improved at least a hundred
+per cent.; he had more skill and his nerves and muscles were far
+stronger. His rubber soles, too, gave him an advantage that he was not
+slow to improve. They assured him firm footing on the slippery floor and
+enabled him to turn quickly, as without trying to strike he contented
+himself with eluding Jabe's mad charges and sledge-hammer blows.
+
+The audience that blocked the door had grown silent. Things were not
+going according to schedule. After the first few rushes they had
+realized that their hero was getting the worst of the encounter.
+
+Ten minutes had gone by. Jabe was breathing hard, while Percy was fresh
+as ever. His cool smile maddened his antagonist and made him less
+skilful. In one of his onsets he had slammed his doubled fist against
+the wooden partition and split his knuckles; the pain and the running
+blood made him wild with rage.
+
+Confident at first of easy victory, he had finally realized that Percy
+was playing with him, that he had met his master in the boxing-game. His
+face had shown in turn anger, surprise, alarm, and at last positive
+fear. But one thought possessed his mind, to win at any cost, by fair
+means or foul. His rushes, which had slackened, grew more violent. He
+came at Percy head down; he tried to crowd him into a corner, to throw
+his arms around him, to overpower him by sheer, brute strength.
+
+Percy realized that in a rough-and-tumble he would be no match for Jabe.
+In legitimate boxing he had shown himself his foe's superior; and he was
+not particularly anxious to emphasize that fact by blacking Jabe's eyes
+or "bloodying" his nose. He would have been willing to let the matter
+stand where it was or allow Jabe to wear himself fruitlessly down to
+exhaustion. But such a course was neither feasible nor safe. Jabe would
+never voluntarily acknowledge that he was beaten. Besides, there was
+always the chance of something happening to put Percy at his mercy; and
+Percy knew only too well what that mercy would be.
+
+His only safety was to force a clear-cut decision.
+
+"It's a case of knock-out," he decided. "No use to bruise him up. Might
+as well have it over quick!"
+
+Savagely, though somewhat wearily, yet with undaunted determination,
+Jabe rushed him and struck out with his left. For the first time in the
+battle Percy launched in with all his strength. He cross-countered with
+his right on the point of Jabe's jaw.
+
+It was the wind-up. Jabe hit the hayseed in a heap. For a few seconds he
+lay motionless, then struggled to a sitting position.
+
+"Got enough?" asked Percy.
+
+Jabe took the count.
+
+"I'm licked," he acknowledged; and there were tears in his voice.
+
+"Can I do anything for you?"
+
+"No; I'll be all right in a little while."
+
+Percy put on his coat and cap and started toward the door. As he passed
+Jabe the latter stretched out his hand.
+
+"You can fight," he conceded, grudging admiration in his tones.
+
+Percy grasped the bunch of stubby fingers.
+
+"So can you," he returned. "If you'd been to the masters I've had, I
+wouldn't care to mix it with you."
+
+The boys opened a way for him respectfully as he passed through the
+door. He was breathing a little quicker than usual, but he had not
+received a scratch. Going back to the wharf where they had landed, he
+found that Budge had been waiting for him almost fifteen minutes.
+
+"What makes you so late, Perce?" he hailed. "We want to ship these
+groceries and start for Tarpaulin before noon."
+
+Percy began passing the boxes and bags down aboard the dory.
+
+"Sorry to have kept you waiting," he apologized. "But I've just been
+settling an account with an old friend."
+
+Then he told Lane of his encounter with Jabe.
+
+"Now," continued he, "I'll tell you why I've been up into the woods
+every afternoon with that sweater of rockweed. I made it into a tight
+bundle and hung it on a springy limb to use for a punching-bag. It
+wasn't very ornamental, but it served the purpose. I've been training
+for this fight ever since the Fourth; had a feeling I'd get another
+chance at him. It's over now, and I hope everybody's satisfied. I am, at
+any rate."
+
+"So that's the reason of your daily pilgrimages," laughed Lane. "You
+certainly have been faithful enough to deserve to win. But what if you'd
+never run across Jabe again? Wouldn't you have felt that you'd thrown
+away your time?"
+
+"Not a bit of it! That bout every afternoon has kept me in first-class
+shape. But now the great event has come off, I'm going to break training
+and give the rockweed a rest."
+
+The _Barracouta_ was back at Tarpaulin before three o'clock. A remark
+dropped by Budge roused the curiosity of the others, and Percy was
+obliged once more to recount the story of his fight with Jabe.
+
+"Well," said Jim, when he had finished, "they say a patient waiter is no
+loser; but I guess it depends a good deal on how you spend your time
+while you're waiting--eh, Perce?"
+
+That night, after dark, when the boys were preparing to turn in, Filippo
+stepped out to the fish-house for some kindling. He came back on the
+run.
+
+"_Fuoco!_" he panted.
+
+The others trooped out hastily. On the southern horizon flamed a ruddy
+light. Spurling gave a cry of alarm.
+
+"Boys, it's a vessel on fire!"
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+OLD FRIENDS
+
+
+Touched by the live wire of human sympathy, Camp Spurling came wide
+awake in an instant. Out there, four miles to the south, men were
+perhaps battling for their lives. Jim issued his orders like bullets.
+
+"Come on, boys! We'll take the _Barracouta_. Fetch a five-gallon can of
+gas from the fish-house, Perce! Budge and Throppy, launch that dory!"
+
+Dashing into the cabin, he quickly reappeared.
+
+"Thought I'd better get one of those first-aid packets! Somebody may be
+burnt bad. Now, fellows! Lively!"
+
+The dory was barely afloat when Percy came staggering down the beach
+with the heavy can. Spurling swung it aboard, and all but Filippo jumped
+in.
+
+"Start your fire again!" shouted back Jim to the Italian. "Make some
+coffee! And be sure to have plenty of hot water! We may need it."
+
+Soon the sloop was under way and heading out of the cove.
+
+"Lucky you thought of that fresh can of gas, Jim," said Budge. "The
+tank's pretty near empty. We'd have been in a nice fix if the engine had
+stopped about a mile south of the island."
+
+"Take the tiller, Perce!" ordered Spurling.
+
+Vaulting up out of the standing-room, he grasped the port shroud and
+fastened his eyes on the fiercely blazing vessel. The flames had run up
+her masts and rigging, and she stood out a lurid silhouette against the
+black horizon. It was evident that she was doomed.
+
+"She's gone!" was Jim's comment as he dropped back into the
+standing-room. "Hope her crew got off all right. There isn't much we can
+do to help; but at any rate we ought to go out and tow in her boats."
+
+"What is she? Fisherman?" asked Throppy.
+
+"Most likely! And not a very big one. Shouldn't wonder if she'd had a
+gas explosion in her cabin; I've heard of a good many such cases. Hope
+nobody's been burnt bad!"
+
+There were a few minutes of silence as they gazed on the spectacle of
+destruction. The _Barracouta_, driven to her utmost, steadily lessened
+the distance. Brighter and larger grew the fire; every detail on the
+fated craft stood sharply out against the pitchy background.
+
+"Here come two boats!" exclaimed Lane.
+
+Sure enough, they were clearly visible, more than two miles off, rising
+and falling on the swell, their oars flashing in the light from the
+conflagration. The crew had abandoned the hopeless fight and were saving
+themselves.
+
+"Keep her straight for 'em, Perce!" directed Jim.
+
+Whittington obeyed. Soon the _Barracouta_ was within hailing distance of
+the dories. In the now diminishing light from the distant fire the boys
+could see that both were crowded with dark figures.
+
+"Must be at least twenty-five aboard the two," commented Stevens.
+
+"Yes," returned Spurling. "These fishermen carry big crews. Ahoy there!
+What's the name of your vessel?"
+
+"The _Clementine Briggs_, of Gloucester," replied a man in the bow of
+the foremost dory. "Running in to Boothbay from Cashe's with a load of
+herring. The gas exploded and set her on fire. We tried to put it out,
+but it was no use. Just got clear with our lives and what we stood in."
+
+"Anybody hurt?"
+
+"Couple of men got their faces burnt, but not very bad. Lucky it was no
+worse. But the old schooner's gone. Pretty tough on Captain Sykes, here,
+for he owned most of her and didn't have much insurance. Fisherman's
+luck!"
+
+"Want a tow in to the island?"
+
+"Sure!"
+
+"Well, toss us your painter, and tell the other boat to make fast to
+your stern."
+
+In a very short time the _Barracouta_ was headed back for Tarpaulin,
+with the two heavily loaded dories trailing behind her. Delayed by her
+tow, she moved considerably slower than when coming out. A strange
+silence hung over the two dories. For fishermen, their crews were
+unusually quiet, sobered, evidently, by the catastrophe that had
+overtaken their schooner.
+
+"Wouldn't those men who were burnt like to come aboard the sloop?"
+inquired Spurling. "Perhaps I can give 'em first aid."
+
+"No," returned the spokesman. "One of 'em's Captain Sykes, here in this
+dory with the handkerchief over his face. He isn't suffering much, but
+his cheeks got scorched, so I'm talking for him. The other man is in the
+next boat. The only thing for 'em to do is to grin and bear it; but just
+now they're not grinning much, 'specially the captain."
+
+Silence again. The sullen, red blaze on the distant vessel was dying
+down against the horizon. The flames had stripped her to a skeleton. Her
+hempen running rigging had been consumed; sails, gaffs, and booms lay
+smoldering on her decks; above the hull only her masts and bowsprit were
+outlined in fire against the blackness behind.
+
+Lacking anything better to do, Jim began counting the men in the dories.
+He made thirteen in each. Most of them sat like graven images, neither
+speaking nor stirring. They had not even turned their heads to look at
+the perishing schooner. He could not understand such indifference to the
+fate of the craft that had been their home.
+
+Sprowl's Cove was right ahead. Filippo opened the cabin door and stood
+framed within it, the light behind him casting a cheery glow down the
+beach. Louder and louder the bank behind the lagoon flung back the
+staccato of the exhaust. Presently the sloop nosed into the haven, the
+engine stopped, and Throppy went forward to gaff the mooring.
+
+The dories were cast off and rowed to the beach. By the time the boys
+got ashore all the men had landed. Jim, who had been watching them
+quietly, noted that most of them disembarked clumsily, more like
+landlubbers than sailors. They separated into two groups of very unequal
+size. One, numbering six, including the men with handkerchiefs over
+their burnt faces, withdrew from the others and began to talk in low
+tones, with earnest, excited gestures. The remaining twenty clotted
+loosely together, awkward and ill at ease, still preserving their
+mysterious silence.
+
+Before Jim had time to offer his unexpected guests anything to eat or
+drink, Filippo bustled hospitably down the beach to the larger group.
+
+"Will you have _caffè_? It is hot and _eccellente_."
+
+They stared at him without replying. By the light from the open door Jim
+could see that they were dressed like landsmen and that their clothes
+did not fit well. Their faces were darkish, they had flat noses, and
+their close-cropped hair was straight and black.
+
+Before Filippo could repeat his question a man from the smaller group
+hurried up and pushed himself abruptly between the silent score and
+their questioner.
+
+"No!" said he, brusquely. "We don't want anything. We had supper just
+before the fire."
+
+His tone and attitude forbade further questioning. Filippo, abashed by
+the rebuff, returned rather shamefacedly to the cabin. The speaker
+remained with the group, as if to protect them from further approaches.
+To Jim his attitude seemed to be almost that of a guard. It deepened the
+mystery that already hung about the party.
+
+It was now past eight o'clock, and naturally some provision would soon
+have to be made for passing the night. Jim pondered. Twenty-six guests
+would prove a severe tax on their already cramped accommodations.
+Still, the thing could be arranged; it must be. The smaller group of six
+could be taken into the camp. Six of the silent twenty could be stowed
+away aboard the sloop; while the remaining fourteen must make what shift
+they could in the fish-house. Jim proposed this plan to the sentinel.
+
+The man disapproved flatly.
+
+"No!" was his decided reply. "We've got to get away to-night."
+
+"To-night?" echoed Jim in amazement. "Why, man alive, you can't do that!
+It's fifteen miles to Matinicus, and you're loaded so deep it'd take you
+almost until morning to row there. And even if you made it all right,
+you wouldn't gain anything, for the boat for Rockland doesn't leave
+until the first of the afternoon. Besides, this wind's liable to blow up
+a storm. Of course you could row ten miles north to Head Harbor on Isle
+au Haut, walk up the island, and catch the morning boat for Stonington;
+but you'd have to pull most of the way against the ebb, and when this
+wind gets a little stronger it's going to be pretty choppy. _I_ wouldn't
+want to risk it. Better stop with us to-night and let us make you as
+comfortable as we can; and to-morrow you can start for any place you
+please."
+
+The man shook his head stubbornly.
+
+"How far is it to the mainland?" he asked.
+
+Jim could hardly believe his ears.
+
+"The mainland!" he exclaimed. "A good twenty-five miles."
+
+"Well, we've got to be there before morning."
+
+"You're crazy, man! Twenty-five miles across these waters in the night,
+with thirteen men in each dory! You'd never make it in the world. You
+can't do it."
+
+"Well, maybe we can't," retorted the other, impatiently, "but we're
+going to. There's more ways to kill a cat than by choking her to death
+with cream."
+
+He walked back to the smaller group, and soon they were in heated, but
+indistinct, argument. Jim noted that the men with handkerchiefs over
+their faces seemed now to have no difficulty in bearing their share of
+the conversation. Captain Sykes, in especial, was almost violent in his
+gestures.
+
+Presently they seemed to have reached an agreement. The spokesman walked
+back to Jim and came directly to the point.
+
+"What'll you take to set the crowd of us over on the mainland near Owl's
+Head before daylight?"
+
+Jim was equally direct.
+
+"No number of dollars you can name. I don't care to risk my boat and
+twenty-five or thirty lives knocking round the Penobscot Bay ledges on a
+night like this. But I'll be glad to take you all over to Matinicus
+to-morrow for nothing."
+
+"That won't do. We've got to reach the mainland to-night. I'll give you
+fifty dollars. Come, now!"
+
+Jim shook his head.
+
+"Seventy-five! No? A hundred, then! What d'you say?"
+
+"No use!" replied Jim. "I told you so at first."
+
+The stranger eyed him a moment, then stepped aside to parley again with
+the others. The colloquy was even more spirited than before. Captain
+Sykes swung his arms like a crazy man. He pointed to the sky, then to
+the sea, then to the voiceless score, huddled together, sheep-like, on
+the beach. Back came the speaker again, a nervous decision in his
+manner.
+
+"If you won't set us over yourself, what'll you sell that sloop for?
+Give you two hundred dollars!"
+
+Reading refusal in the lad's face, he raised the bid before Jim had time
+to open his lips.
+
+"Three hundred! We've some passengers who must get to a certain place at
+a particular time, and they can't do it unless we can land 'em before
+daylight to-morrow. Say four hundred!"
+
+"That sloop isn't for sale."
+
+"Wouldn't you take five hundred for her?"
+
+"No; nor a thousand!"
+
+Jim's jaws came together. Back in his brain was forming a suspicion of
+these fishermen who raised their bid so glibly. Why were they so eager
+to reach the mainland that night, and why did the twenty have no voice
+in the discussion? He scrutinized them searchingly.
+
+"What are you staring at?" demanded the man, angrily.
+
+Jim did not reply. Percy passed by on his way to the cabin. He had been
+using his eyes to good advantage. He nudged Jim.
+
+"Those fellows are Chinamen," he whispered. "I've seen too many of 'em
+to be mistaken."
+
+His words crystallized Jim's suspicions into certainty. The whole thing
+was plain now. The crew of the _Clementine Briggs_ (if, indeed, that was
+her name) were no fishermen, but smugglers of Chinese!
+
+He remembered a recent magazine article on the breaking of the
+immigration laws. Chinamen would cross the Pacific to Vancouver, paying
+the Dominion head-tax, and thus gaining admission into Canada. A
+society, organized for the purpose, would take them in charge, teach
+them a few ordinary English phrases, transport them to New Brunswick,
+and slip them aboard some fast schooner. The captain of this vessel
+would receive three hundred dollars a head for landing his passengers
+safely here and there at lonely points on the New England coast, whence
+they could make their way undetected to their friends in the large
+cities. Thus were the exclusion laws of the United States set at naught.
+
+The destruction of the schooner had made it necessary for her passengers
+to be landed somewhere as secretly and as quickly as possible. Twenty
+men at three hundred dollars a head meant six thousand dollars. That
+explained the anxiety of the six white men to reach the mainland that
+night. They were criminals, breaking their country's laws for money.
+
+Jim decided that they should never make use of the _Barracouta_.
+
+The spokesman dropped his conciliatory mask and turned away defiantly.
+
+"All right, young fellow! You've had your say; now we'll have ours."
+
+"Throppy," said Jim in a low tone to Stevens, who was standing with Lane
+beside him, "these men are smugglers. Call the cutter!"
+
+He had time for nothing more. As Stevens slipped quietly back into the
+cabin there was an angry outburst among the group on the beach.
+
+"I've done my best, Cap," protested a voice. "He won't listen to reason.
+Now take that rag off your face and handle this thing yourself. It's up
+to you."
+
+There was a sudden rush of enraged men toward Lane and Spurling. As they
+came, two wrenched the handkerchiefs from their faces, revealing to the
+astounded boys the features of the would-be sheep-thieves of the first
+of the summer, Dolph and Captain Bart Brittler!
+
+The latter was white with rage. His voice rose almost to a screech.
+
+"No more fooling! We need that sloop and we're going to have her! Will
+you sell her?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then we'll take her!"
+
+Brittler's hand shot into his pocket as if for a revolver.
+
+"Stop there, Cap!" warned Dolph's voice. "No gun-play! 'Tisn't
+necessary. We can handle 'em."
+
+He flung himself suddenly on Spurling; another man leaped upon Lane.
+Though taken completely by surprise and almost hurled backward, Jim
+quickly recovered his balance. A sledge-hammer blow from Dolph's fist
+grazed his jaw as he sprang aside. He returned it with interest, his
+right going true to its mark; down went Dolph, as if hit by a
+pile-driver. He lay for a moment, stunned.
+
+Strong and active though Jim was, he could not bear the brunt of the
+entire battle. Lane's assailant had proved too much for him; they were
+struggling together on the gravel, the older man on top. Percy and
+Filippo came running; but their aid counted for little. A stocky
+smuggler turned toward them. A single blow from his fist sent the
+Italian reeling. Percy lasted longer; but his skill was no match for the
+brute strength of his foe. His lighter blows only stung his
+antagonist to fiercer efforts. Little by little the boy's strength
+failed and his breath came harder. He slipped on a smooth stone; with a
+sudden rush his foe pinioned his arms and held him struggling.
+
+[Illustration: "WE NEED THAT SLOOP AND WE'RE GOING TO HAVE HER!"]
+
+Dolph recovered, staggered to his feet, and entered the fray again. It
+was four to one against Jim; he fought manfully, but it was no use.
+Presently he lay flat on his back on the gravel, bruised and panting,
+one man kneeling on each arm, and a third on his chest.
+
+"Take him up to the camp, boys!" puffed Brittler.
+
+The doughty captain had not escaped unscathed. A swollen black eye and a
+bleeding nose bore eloquent testimony to the force and accuracy of Jim's
+blows. A guard on each side and another behind were soon propelling
+Spurling toward the open door. From within came the ceaseless click of a
+telegraph instrument. Throppy was still calling the cutter. Jim heard
+the quick patter of the continental code; Brittler heard it, too, and
+understood. He sprang forward with a shout of alarm.
+
+"They've got a wireless! Smash it!"
+
+A buffet on the side of the head knocked Stevens off his soap-box and
+sent him rolling on the floor. Five seconds later a crashing blow from a
+stick of firewood put the instrument out of commission. Brittler poised
+his club threateningly over the prostrate Stevens.
+
+"Wish I knew if you've been able to get a message through to anybody! If
+I thought you had--"
+
+He did not finish, but half-raised the stick, then dropped it again and
+turned away. One by one the remaining members of Spurling & Company
+were bundled unceremoniously into the cabin. Then the door was slammed
+shut and two men with automatics were stationed on guard outside.
+
+"Don't shoot unless you have to," instructed Brittler's voice, purposely
+raised. "And remember a bullet in the leg'll stop a man just as quick as
+one through the body."
+
+And then in a tone lower, but perfectly audible to those inside:
+
+"But don't stand any fooling! Stop 'em anyway! You know as well as I do
+how much we've got at stake."
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+PERCY SCORES
+
+
+Defeated and imprisoned in their own camp, the boys faced one another
+dazedly. Though none of the five had suffered serious injury in the
+scuffle, all were more or less bruised. Lane had a slight cut where the
+back of his head had come in contact with a sharp stone on the beach;
+and a swelling on Jim's right cheek told where the hard fist of one of
+his assailants had landed.
+
+Outside, the two guards conversed in low tones; but for a few minutes no
+one spoke or moved in the cabin. The boys sat on the boxes or had thrown
+themselves into their bunks. Elbow on table, chin resting in palm, Jim
+was buried in thought. In a short time, he knew, Brittler and his gang
+would sail away in the _Barracouta_. They would land their human cargo
+and probably scuttle the sloop. Somehow they must be thwarted; but how?
+
+The boys had no weapons to match those of their armed guard. Without
+ammunition, the shot-gun was but a bar of iron. How could they cope with
+the bullets in the automatics? Undoubtedly every smuggler carried a
+revolver, and would use it in a pinch; possibly some might not wait
+until the pinch came. It was a knotty problem. The drops oozed out on
+Jim's forehead as he wrestled for its solution.
+
+A low whistle fell on his ear. He glanced toward Percy's bunk and saw
+the latter's hand raised in warning; he was taking off his shoes,
+quickly and noiselessly. Why? Jim and the others watched.
+
+Soon Percy stood in his stocking feet. He pulled out his knife and
+opened the large blade. Stooping low, he stole toward the farther end of
+the cabin. The window there was open and covered with mosquito netting.
+
+Steps grated on the pebbles outside. One of the guards was making a
+circuit of the camp. Percy flattened himself on the floor directly
+beneath the window. The others, hardly daring to breathe, looked away.
+The man paused for a moment; Jim knew that he was peering in. Apparently
+satisfied that all was well, he resumed his patrol.
+
+Without delay Percy rose. He drew his knife along the netting near the
+sill, then cut it from top to bottom on each side, close to the frame.
+So skilfully did the keen blade do its work that the screen hung
+apparently undisturbed.
+
+The guards began talking again. Placing one of the boxes silently under
+the window, and stepping upon it, Percy slipped through the opening. His
+light build enabled him to drop to the ground without making any noise.
+The netting fell back and hung as before.
+
+Outside, it was thick fog; a slight drizzle was beginning. It was
+impossible to see further than a few feet. But the last two months had
+familiarized Percy with every square yard of the beach, and he could
+have found his way along it blindfold. Cat-footed, he stole down toward
+the water.
+
+Steps approached, voices; he halted, ready for a hasty retreat. But the
+feet receded toward the cabin, and he had no difficulty in recognizing
+the tones of Dolph and Brittler. The latter was in a bad humor.
+
+"Now," he growled, "we've got a long way to go, and none too much time.
+Every minute we waste here means just so much off the other end. Granted
+we reach the mainland all right, we'll have to hustle to slip those
+Chinks under cover before daylight. You'd better round 'em up in that
+fish-house, so none of 'em'll stray away and keep us from starting the
+second the sloop's ready. We've got to make sure there's plenty of gas
+aboard, as well as a compass and chart. I'll see if I can scare up a
+couple of lanterns."
+
+The two separated, Dolph evidently going to look after the Chinese,
+while Brittler kept on toward the cabin. Percy stood stock-still, his
+heart thumping. Would the captain discover his absence?
+
+"How's everything here, boys?" hailed Brittler.
+
+"All quiet," replied one of the sentries.
+
+"Come inside with me, Herb, so these fellows won't try any funny
+business."
+
+The door opened. Percy felt a thrill of fear. How could they fail to
+notice there were only four prisoners in the camp?
+
+But their captors evidently had not the least suspicion that he had
+escaped. Probably they thought he was lying in one of the bunks. He
+could hear the voices of Brittler and Jim, the one questioning, angry,
+and menacing, the other tantalizingly deliberate as he grudgingly gave
+the information demanded. Percy delayed no longer. He had his own work
+to do, and it demanded all his energy.
+
+Down he stole to the water's edge, then followed it west until he
+reached a sloping rock. The _Barracouta_, he knew, was moored not fifty
+feet out in the black fog.
+
+Without hesitating a second Percy waded in, and soon was swimming
+quietly toward the sloop. He had not dared to take one of the boats, for
+fear the grating of her keel on the beach or the sound of her oars might
+betray him. He cleft the water noiselessly, and it was not long before
+he grasped the _Barracouta's_ bobstay and hoisted himself aboard.
+
+Dropping down the companionway, he groped forward through the cabin to
+the little door leading into the bow, and crept in on hands and knees.
+His fingers found what he wanted, an opening between two planks, where a
+leak had been freshly calked with oakum. He dug this out with his
+knife-point, and the water began spurting in.
+
+Backing out and closing the door, he found a wrench in the tool-box and
+began fumbling about the engine. Soon the spark-plugs were unscrewed and
+in his pocket.
+
+"And there's a good job done!" he thought, triumphantly. "Guess that
+gang of blacklegs won't get very far in the _Barracouta_ to-night!"
+
+Voices on the shore. Dolph and Brittler were coming with a lantern; a
+blur of light brightened through the fog.
+
+"The compass and chart are aboard," came the captain's voice, "and this
+can of gas'll be enough to make us sure of striking the mainland.
+Launch that dory!"
+
+The dip of oars and an increasing brightness told that the boat was
+approaching. It would not do for Percy to be detected. Lowering himself
+from the port bow into the water, he clung to the bobstay.
+
+"They won't see me here!"
+
+Bump! The dory struck the sloop and grated along her side. Dolph and
+Brittler clambered aboard and descended into the cabin.
+
+"Here's the chart!" exclaimed the captain. "And the compass, too! He
+told the truth about them, at any rate."
+
+"Lucky for him!" rejoined Dolph. "I don't like that big fellow worth a
+cent."
+
+"Good reason!" was the captain's rather sarcastic comment.
+
+"You haven't any license to joke me about that knockdown, Bart Brittler!
+I noticed you weren't in any hurry to mix it with him."
+
+There was a moment of silence.
+
+"What's that?" cried the captain, suddenly. "Sounds like water running
+in! Hope the old scow isn't leaking. Let's have that lantern!"
+
+Through the thin planking Percy could hear him open the little door and
+crawl up into the bow. Then his faint, muffled voice reached the eagerly
+listening boy.
+
+"There's a bad leak here! Come in a minute!"
+
+Into Percy's brain flashed a sudden idea that left him trembling with
+excitement. Could he do it? If he tried, he must not fail. An instant
+resolution set him dragging himself toward the stern.
+
+Clutching the rim of the wash-board, he flung up one leg, caught his
+toe, and raised himself, dripping. A moment later he was in the
+standing-room.
+
+He looked down into the cabin. The light of the lantern, shining round a
+body that almost filled the little door to the bow, showed a pair of
+legs backing out.
+
+The die was cast. It was too late now for Percy to withdraw. His only
+safety lay in action.
+
+Like lightning he slammed and hooked the double doors of the
+companionway, pulled the slide over, and snapped the padlock. Dolph and
+Brittler were prisoners on board the _Barracouta!_
+
+There was a moment of surprised silence. Then bedlam broke out below, a
+confused, smothered shouting, a violent thumping on the closed doors and
+slide. But Percy gave it no heed. Thus far his plan had succeeded, even
+beyond his expectations. But his work was only begun. Before it should
+be finished, four men on shore must be overcome.
+
+Aquiver with excitement, he sprang into the dory and quickly rowed to
+the beach, some distance from the camp. Then he leaped out with the oars
+and carried them well up on the shingle.
+
+The other dory of the smugglers was, he remembered, almost exactly in
+front of the cabin. Skirting the water, he soon came plump upon the
+boat. He felt inside, found the oars, and gave one after the other a
+shove out into the cove. Barely had he done this when hurrying steps
+approached. One of the guards from the camp was coming to investigate
+the tumult on the _Barracouta_.
+
+He passed so close to the dory beside which Percy was crouching that
+the boy could almost have touched him. Luckily he had no lantern. Percy
+hardly dared to breathe until the man was twenty feet past.
+
+"What's the trouble out there?" he shouted.
+
+If the two on the sloop heard him at all, they made no intelligible
+reply. The tumult and thumping kept on. Not waiting to see whether or
+not the sentinel would succeed in establishing communication with his
+marooned companions, Percy ran silently up the beach. Making a broad
+circuit, he approached the cabin from behind.
+
+Through the open window he could see his mates, listening with parted
+lips to the hubbub outside. He attracted Jim's attention by tossing in a
+pebble. Spurling sauntered leisurely toward the rear of the cabin. His
+precautions were needless; the remaining sentry had concentrated his
+whole attention on the uproar in the cove.
+
+"Jim," whispered Percy, hurriedly, "I'm going to jump that guard. You
+and Budge stand close to the door. The second you hear any fracas rush
+out and take hold with me. Stop him from shouting, if you can."
+
+Jim nodded and stepped back from the window. Percy crept stealthily
+round the camp toward the fish-house. He rightly inferred that the
+smuggler would be gazing down the beach toward the invisible sloop.
+
+A well-oiled clock could not have worked more smoothly. The sentry's
+thoughts were focused on what was taking place out there in the fog, and
+he was all unconscious of the peril that menaced him in the rear.
+
+Suddenly out of the blackness behind him a lithe figure shot like a
+wildcat. One arm encircled the neck of the astounded guard, the hand
+pressing tightly over his mouth. The other hand caught his right wrist
+and twisted it backward, causing him to drop his revolver. The force of
+the attack flung him flat on his face.
+
+Before he could even struggle the door was wrenched open and two figures
+darted out and joined in the mêlée. It was soon over. Three to one are
+heavy odds. The sentry, gagged and securely bound, was hustled inside
+the cabin. His hat, overcoat, and automatic were appropriated for Jim
+Spurling, who took his place. So skilfully had the coup been conducted
+under cover of the disturbance in the cove that none of the other
+smugglers had taken the slightest alarm.
+
+Spurling assumed his post none too soon. Hardly had the door been
+closed, with Lane, Stevens, and Percy on the alert just inside, when the
+other guard came hurrying anxiously back. He had been unable to fathom
+the meaning of the tumult on the _Barracouta_.
+
+"I don't like this at all, Herb," growled he as he drew near Jim. "Dolph
+and the skipper have gotten into some kind of a scrape, but what the
+trouble is I can't figure. I'd have gone out to them in the other dory,
+but I couldn't find any oars. We'd better call Shane and Parsons away
+from guarding those Chinks and decide what it's best to do. We don't
+know the lay of the land here, and any mistake's liable to be
+expensive."
+
+By the time he had finished his remarks he was close to Spurling. The
+latter's silence apparently roused his suspicions. He stopped short.
+
+"What--"
+
+He got no further. Jim's left hand was over his mouth and Jim's right
+grasped his right wrist. Out burst reinforcements from the camp. It was
+a repetition of the case of the first sentinel, only more so. Presently
+Number Two lay on the cabin floor beside his comrade, unable to speak or
+move. Jim was a good hand at tying knots.
+
+The five boys gathered in a corner and took account of stock. Two of the
+six white men prisoners; two others marooned on the sloop and _hors du
+combat_, at least temporarily; two still at large and in a condition to
+do mischief, but at present entirely ignorant of the plight of their
+comrades. Two automatics captured, and the dories of the foe useless
+from lack of oars. Best of all, the boys themselves free and practically
+masters of the situation. Matters showed a decided improvement over what
+they had been a half-hour before.
+
+But the victory was as yet incomplete and Jim was too good a general to
+lose the battle from over-confidence. At any minute Dolph and Brittler
+might burst their way out through the double doors of the _Barracouta_
+and establish communication with the two men guarding the Chinese. So
+once more the trap was set and baited. Roger put on the hat and coat of
+the second sentry and joined Jim on guard.
+
+Crash! Crash! Crash! A succession of heavy, splintering blows, echoing
+over the cove, announced that the pair imprisoned on the sloop had at
+last discovered some means of battering their way to freedom.
+
+_Crash-sh!_
+
+Speech, low but intense, came floating over the water. The smugglers
+were out and evidently looking for their dory. Baffled in their search,
+they began shouting.
+
+"Hilloo-oo! On shore! Shane! Parsons! Herb! Terry! Are you all dead?
+Come out and take us off! Somebody's scuttled the sloop and locked us
+down in the cabin! Just wait till we get ashore! We'll fix those boys!
+Ahoy there! Our boat's gone! Come and get us!"
+
+Jim pressed Roger's arm.
+
+"Ready! Here comes one of 'em!"
+
+Somebody was running toward them from the fish-house. A black figure
+suddenly loomed up, close at hand.
+
+"What's the trouble out there, Herb? Dolph and the cap are yelling like
+stuck pigs! Hear 'em! Guess I'd better go out to 'em in the other dory,
+don't you think? Shane can handle the Chinos--"
+
+His voice shut off in a terrified gurgle. A strong hand forcibly sealed
+his lips and two pairs of muscular arms held him powerless, while Percy,
+darting from the cabin with a coil of rope, relieved him of his
+automatic and tied him firmly under Jim's whispered directions. Soon he,
+too, lay beside his comrades.
+
+"Shut the door a minute, Filippo!" ordered Jim. "Now," he continued,
+briskly, "I guess we've got 'em coppered. We'll do up that man in the
+fish-house in short order. By the way, Throppy, did you raise the
+cutter before the captain smashed your instrument?"
+
+"Don't know," answered Stevens. "I was so busy calling for help that I
+didn't wait for any reply."
+
+"We'll know before midnight," said Jim. "Take Parsons's automatic,
+Perce, and come along with Budge and myself. Throppy, you stay here with
+Filippo and help guard these fellows."
+
+He glanced at the sullen three lying bound on the floor.
+
+"Don't look as if they could make much trouble. Still, it's better for
+somebody to keep an eye on 'em."
+
+Jim, Budge, and Percy stepped out and closed the door. The shouting from
+the _Barracouta_ kept on with undiminished vigor. Appeals and threats
+jostled one another in the verbal torrent.
+
+"Let 'em yell themselves hoarse," whispered Jim. "It won't do 'em any
+good."
+
+The fish-house was near. A lighted lantern hung just inside the open
+door. Near it stood the fourth smuggler, peering anxiously out; behind
+him huddled the Chinamen. He gave an exclamation of relief as he saw
+Jim's figure approaching through the fog.
+
+"I'm glad--"
+
+He stopped short, frozen with surprise, at the sight of the three boys.
+Swiftly his hand darted toward his left coat pocket.
+
+"None of that, Shane!" commanded Jim, sharply. "Put 'em up!"
+
+The three automatics in the boys' hands showed the guard that
+resistance was useless. He obeyed sulkily.
+
+"Feel in his pocket, Perce, and take his revolver! No, the other side!
+He's left-handed."
+
+Percy secured the weapon. Escorting Shane to the camp, they soon had him
+safely trussed. Brittler was bellowing like a mad bull.
+
+"Now for Dolph and the skipper! Guess the three of us are good for 'em!"
+
+Leaving the four smugglers in the custody of Throppy and Filippo, the
+other boys proceeded down to the water. The shouting suddenly ceased. A
+rope splashed.
+
+"They've cast off the mooring!" exclaimed Jim.
+
+Another unmistakable sound.
+
+"Now they're rocking the wheel to start her!"
+
+Percy felt for the spark-plugs in his pocket.
+
+"They'll rock it some time!"
+
+They did. At last they stopped. There was a muttered consultation,
+inaudible to the listening ears on shore.
+
+"Might as well wind the thing up now!" observed Jim in an undertone.
+
+"On board the sloop!" he hailed. "It's all off, Captain! We've got your
+four men tied up, and we've got their revolvers. You and Dolph might as
+well give it up. Throw your guns in on the beach, and we'll come out and
+get you, one at a time!"
+
+A tremendous surprise was voiced by the absolute silence that followed.
+It was broken by Brittler's sneering voice:
+
+"So we might as well give up, had we, eh? Guess you don't know Bart
+Brittler, sonny! Let 'em have it, Dolph!"
+
+_Spang--spang--spang--spang!_
+
+A fusillade of revolver-shots woke the echoes. The bullets spattered in
+the water and thudded on the beach. Fortunately no one was hit.
+
+"Scatter, fellows!" shouted Jim. And in a lower voice he added, "Don't
+fire back!"
+
+Silence again. The two on the sloop were evidently reloading. Then came
+a regular splashing. The men on the _Barracouta_ were paddling her
+ashore. Armed and desperate, now fully aware that the only things
+between themselves and a term in a Federal prison were the bullets in
+their automatics, they would go to almost any length to escape, even to
+the taking of life itself. Plainly there was trouble ahead.
+
+The boys came together again at the foot of the sea-wall. Should they
+fight or run? It was one or the other. Whatever else they might be,
+Dolph and Brittler clearly were not cowards. If there was a fight, it
+was certain somebody would be shot, very likely killed. Was the risk
+worth taking? Would it not be better to hurry back to the cabin, warn
+Filippo and Throppy, and escape up the bank into the woods? The
+smugglers, with but two automatics against four, would hardly dare to
+follow them.
+
+"Way enough, Dolph!" growled Brittler's voice.
+
+The sloop had grounded. Splash! Splash! Her two passengers had leaped
+out into the water and were making their way to the beach.
+
+Jim came to an instant decision. He opened his lips, but the words he
+had planned to speak were never uttered. The strong, rhythmical dip of
+oars suddenly beat through the fog.
+
+"What's the trouble here?" demanded a stern voice.
+
+A great surge of thankfulness almost took away Jim's power of speech.
+
+"It's the cutter!" he ejaculated, chokingly. "Throppy got her, after
+all!"
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+WHITTINGTON GRIT
+
+
+So far as the smugglers were concerned the game was up. It was one thing
+to attempt to overpower a group of boys and appropriate their sloop, but
+it was quite another to offer armed resistance to the officers of the
+United States revenue service.
+
+Dolph and Brittler realized that; they realized, too, that they had
+absolutely no chance of escaping from the island, so they stood sullenly
+by while Jim told his story to the lieutenant commanding the boat. At
+the close of his recital the officer turned to them.
+
+"You hear the statements of this young man. What have you to say for
+yourselves?"
+
+"Nothing now," replied Brittler.
+
+"You may hand over your guns."
+
+The two surrendered their automatics and were placed under arrest.
+Following Jim's guidance, the lieutenant inspected the captured
+smugglers in Camp Spurling and the Chinese in the fish-house. Leaving a
+guard on shore and taking Jim with him, he went off to make his report
+to the captain.
+
+"It's a case for the United States commissioner at Portland," decided
+the latter. "We'll have to take the whole party there. Guess you boys
+had better come along as witnesses. The _Pollux_ was bound east when we
+picked up your wireless; but this matter is so important that I'm going
+to postpone that trip for a couple of days. I can bring you and the rest
+of your party back here early day after to-morrow."
+
+It meant to the boys a loss of only two days at the outside. That was a
+little thing in comparison with what might have happened if the cutter
+had not come.
+
+"We'll start without waste of time," resumed the captain. "Lieutenant
+Stevenson, you may bring the prisoners aboard."
+
+Jim went ashore with the officer to notify his companions and prepare
+for this unforeseen journey. Eleven o'clock found the _Pollux_ steaming
+west with her thirty-one additional passengers. The passage was
+uneventful and they were alongside the wharf in Portland early the next
+forenoon.
+
+Promptly at two came the hearing before the commissioner. It did not
+take long. Brittler and his accomplices were held for trial at the next
+term of court, and the Chinese were taken in charge by the immigration
+inspector. Before six that night the boys were passing out by Portland
+Head in the _Pollux_, bound east. The next morning they landed once more
+in Sprowl's Cove, and a few hours later they had fallen back into their
+customary routine, as if smugglers were a thing unknown. The leak in the
+_Barracouta's_ bow was calked, making her as tight as before.
+
+The following day dawned fiery red and it was evident that a fall storm
+was brewing. Jim and Percy had to battle with a high sea when they set
+and pulled their trawl; and they were glad enough to get back to
+Tarpaulin with their catch. By noon a heavy surf was bombarding the
+southern shore.
+
+Five o'clock found the gale in full blast. A terrific wind whipped the
+rain in level sheets over cove and beach and against the low cabin squat
+on the sea-wall. Great, white-maned surges came rolling in from the
+ocean to boom thunderously on the ledges round Brimstone. The flying
+scud made it impossible to see far to windward. It was the worst storm
+the boys had experienced since they came to the island.
+
+At half past five, after everything had been made snug for the night,
+they assembled for supper. On the table smoked a heaping platter of
+fresh tongues and cheeks, rolled in meal and fried brown with slices of
+salt pork. Another spiderful of the same viands sputtered on the stove.
+Hot biscuits and canned peaches crowned the repast. Filippo had done
+himself proud.
+
+A long-drawn blast howled about the cabin.
+
+"Gee!" exclaimed Percy, "but wasn't that a screamer! This is one of the
+nights you read about. 'The midnight tempest was shrieking furiously
+round the battlements of the old baronial castle!'"
+
+"Cut it out, Perce, cut it out!" remonstrated Lane. "You make me feel
+ashamed of myself. It's really unkind in you to air your knowledge of
+the English classics before such dubs as the rest of us."
+
+"Well, at any rate, I'm glad we're under cover. Wonder if the men who
+used to go to sea in this cabin enjoyed it anywhere near as much as we
+have!"
+
+"Not half bad, is it?" said Jim. "Remember how delighted you were when
+you got your first sight of it, three months ago?"
+
+Percy grinned.
+
+"I've changed some since then," he admitted. "Forget that, Jim! It's
+ancient history now."
+
+As he drew up his soap-box his eye dwelt appreciatively on the
+delicacies in the platter.
+
+"Aren't you other fellows going to eat anything?" he inquired, with mock
+concern. "I don't see any more than enough for myself on that platter.
+Don't be so narrow about the food, Filippo!"
+
+The Italian pointed to a pan rounded up with uncooked titbits.
+
+"Plenty more!"
+
+"Good!" said Percy. "I was afraid somebody else might have to go
+hungry."
+
+All devoted themselves to the contents of their plates. They kept
+Filippo busy frying until their appetites were satisfied.
+
+Supper was over at last, and the dishes washed and put away. Outside,
+the storm raged worse than ever. Stevens sat down to his instrument,
+repaired after its damage by Brittler, and put the receivers over his
+ears.
+
+"Come on, Throppy!" exhorted Lane. "Don't go calling to-night! Get out
+of the ether and give some other wireless sharps a look-in! Pull off
+that harness and take down your violin. Let's make an evening of it! We
+sha'n't have many more."
+
+Stevens lifted his hands to remove the headpiece. Suddenly a change came
+over his face and his arms dropped slowly. He gave his mates a warning
+look. There fell a silence in the cabin. Anxiously the others watched
+the operator's tense features. Minutes passed.
+
+On a sudden he sprang up and tore off the receivers.
+
+"There's a steamer in trouble outside. Name sounded like _Barona_. Her
+engine's disabled and she's drifting. Can't be very far off!"
+
+The boys felt sober.
+
+"It's a hard night for a craft without steerage-way," said Jim. "What's
+that? Thunder?"
+
+A long, low rumble made itself heard above the storm. It came again, and
+yet again. The gloom was lighted for a second by a sudden blaze.
+
+"What's that!" exclaimed Jim once more.
+
+Between the thunder-peals his ears had caught a single whip-like crack.
+A stunning crash followed a lurid glare, lighting up sky and sea. Again
+came the sharp detonation, but little louder than a fire-cracker. This
+time all heard it.
+
+"A signal-gun!"
+
+Lane's voice was full of excitement. He sprang to the door and the
+others followed. The gale was blowing squarely against the end of the
+cabin. So great was its force that Roger had all he could do to push the
+door open. Presently the five stood outside, exposed to the full fury of
+the blast. For a few seconds all was black.
+
+"Look! A rocket!"
+
+Up from the pitchy sea southwest of Brimstone shot a line of fire,
+curving into an arc and bursting aloft in a shower of many-colored
+balls. At its base were dimly visible two slender masts and a white
+hull. Almost instantly they vanished; but the boys had seen enough.
+
+"A steam-yacht!" cried Jim. "Not more than a half-mile off Brimstone and
+drifting straight on the ledges. Looks as if she was a goner!"
+
+"Can't we help her somehow?" asked Percy.
+
+"I'm afraid not. We couldn't drive the sloop against this gale and sea;
+besides, those rollers would swamp a life-boat. All we can do is to get
+out on the point and try to save anybody who comes ashore. Put on your
+oil-clothes, fellows! Light both the lanterns, Percy! Budge, you and
+Throppy each take one of those spare coils of rope! I'll carry another
+and the Coston lights. Now I can see why Uncle Tom always insisted on
+having a couple of 'em in the cabin. Filippo, you'd better stay here,
+keep up a good fire, and make plenty of coffee. There goes another
+rocket! The gun, too! I don't blame 'em. Men couldn't be in a worse
+fix!"
+
+Leaning sidewise against the gale, the little lantern-guided procession
+trudged along the sea-wall and stumblingly ascended the slippery path to
+the beacon on Brimstone. Sheltering the oil-soaked kindlings with his
+body, Jim scratched a match; and in a twinkling long tongues of smoky
+flame were streaming wildly to leeward.
+
+"Ah! They see us!"
+
+Three rockets in quick succession rose from the yacht, now barely a
+quarter-mile away. The thunder and lightning were almost continuous.
+Every flash told that the imperiled craft was steadily drifting nearer
+the dangerous promontory.
+
+"She'll strike the Grumblers!" muttered Jim. "And that means she's done
+for! If only she was a thousand feet farther east she'd float by into
+the cove. Hard luck!"
+
+The Grumblers were a collection of jagged rocks, exposed at low tide.
+Under the incessant flashes their black heads appeared and disappeared
+in a welter of frothy white. It was an ominous spectacle for the men on
+the yacht.
+
+Taking one of the Coston lights, Jim clambered down on the ledges. Soon
+the warning red glare of the torch, held high above his head, was
+illumining the rocks and breakers. He held the light aloft until it went
+out, then rejoined the others.
+
+"They're getting a boat over!" cried Stevens.
+
+Half a dozen men, working with frantic haste, were swinging a tender out
+to leeward.
+
+"No use!" said Jim, despondently. "She won't live a minute in this sea."
+
+Ten seconds confirmed his prediction. The yacht rolled. As the boat
+struck the water a giant sea filled her. Then came darkness. The next
+flash showed the boat drifting bottom up beside the larger craft.
+Another tender was launched; it survived one sea, but the next
+overturned it. Still a third boat met with the same fate.
+
+Every surge was heaving the yacht nearer the breakers with dismaying
+speed. A group of figures gathered amidships. Silently, with pale faces,
+the boys watched the progress of the doomed craft. She was going to her
+death. How could any of those on board escape?
+
+Jim threw off his despondency.
+
+"Now, fellows," he cried, "the minute she strikes she'll begin to pound
+to pieces! Their only chance'll be to run a line ashore. We must get out
+as far as we can to catch it."
+
+Every billow buried the base of the point in snowy foam and sent the
+spray flying far up its rugged front. Using the utmost caution, the boys
+descended to the limit of safety. At the next flash they peered eagerly
+seaward.
+
+The yacht was almost on the Grumblers! Up she heaved on a high surge,
+dropped. They caught their breaths. No! Not that time. She rose again.
+
+Down ... down ...
+
+Suddenly she stopped. A grinding crash reached their ears.
+
+"She's struck!" screamed Lane.
+
+A blaze of sheet lightning showed her, careened landward, lying
+broadside toward them about one hundred feet distant. It was the
+beginning of the end. Jim, clinging to a boulder far out on the
+streaming ledges, now showered with spray, now buried waist-deep, was
+watching every movement of the crew.
+
+"They've made a line fast round the foremast!" he shouted back. "They're
+going to send its end ashore on a barrel! Watch out!"
+
+Presently the tossing cask was visible, drifting rapidly landward. For
+the first twenty-five yards its progress was unhindered; then a
+half-tide ledge barred its way. It hung on this in the trough of a sea;
+but the next billow swept it over. Before long it was bumping on the
+rocks almost within Jim's reach.
+
+Watching his chance, he lunged forward and caught it. A crashing surge
+flung him down heavily and rolled him over and over; but he stuck
+stoutly to his prize. When the water ran back he came crawling up on his
+hands and knees, sliding the cask before him.
+
+"Can't stand!" he explained, briefly. "Ankle hurt! Now muckle onto this
+line, everybody, and haul in! They've got a hawser bent on the other
+end."
+
+A glance toward the yacht told that he was right. It also told that the
+peril of her human freight was greater than ever. Each sea, raising her
+slightly, dropped her back with her decks at a sharper angle toward the
+land. The grinding of the rocks through her steel side could be
+distinctly heard.
+
+"All together! In she comes! Now ... heave! Now ... heave! Now ...
+_heave!_"
+
+Their strength doubled by the realization that life hung on their
+efforts, the boys swayed at the line until at last they grasped the end
+of the hawser. To it was attached another smaller rope for pulling in a
+boatswain's chair.
+
+Working rapidly, they made the hawser fast round an upright boulder. The
+lightning flashes were now less frequent, but lanterns on the ship and
+ashore enabled each group to note the other's progress. At last the
+slender cableway was rigged. Jim swung a lantern. Another lantern on the
+yacht answered.
+
+"The smaller line, boys! Pull in! Careful!"
+
+As the boys hauled, a figure dangled away from the vessel's side.
+Shoreward it swayed, now high above the wave-troughs, now dipping
+through a lofty crest. It dragged safely over the inside ledge, while
+the boys held their breaths; and presently they were unlashing a man
+from the boatswain's chair.
+
+"Yes," he said in response to Jim's question, "she's the steam-yacht
+_Barona_. Belongs to Churchill Sadler of New York. One of his
+millionaire friends chartered her for a short trip to the Maine coast.
+Fifteen men aboard. I'm the mate. Came ashore first to see if this rig
+would work all right."
+
+The chair was already half-way back to the vessel.
+
+"They'll send Mr. Whittington next," continued the mate.
+
+Percy started with surprise.
+
+"What's that? Whittington?"
+
+"Yes. John P., the millionaire! He's the man who hired the yacht."
+
+"He's my father!" gasped Percy.
+
+The mate gave an exclamation of astonishment.
+
+"Lucky we got this chair to working or soon you wouldn't have had any
+father!"
+
+The swinging seat had now reached the yacht. Two men lashed into it a
+stout, squarely built figure. The lantern signaled that all was ready
+and the shoreward journey began. Percy was shaking so violently that he
+could hardly pull. The mate reassured him.
+
+"Don't be frightened, young fellow! We'll land him all right!"
+
+He added his strength to that of the others, and John P. Whittington
+came in faster. He reached the ledge, only twenty-five feet from shore.
+Then came disaster!
+
+Something gave way on the yacht, and the hawser suddenly slackened,
+letting the boatswain's chair drag on the ledge. The end of a swinging
+rope caught in a crack. The millionaire stopped short!
+
+"Harder!" shouted the mate, setting the example.
+
+The boys surged on the rope, but to no avail; they could not budge the
+chair. Percy stood motionless with horror.
+
+Up curled a huge wave, high over the struggling figure. A thundering
+deluge hid him from view. It looked bad for John P. Whittington. Two or
+three seas more and it would matter little to him whether he was pulled
+in or not.
+
+Guttering and rumbling, the water flowed back. Down over the ledges
+after it leaped a slim, wiry figure. It was Percy Whittington!
+
+He had thrown off his oil-clothes to give his limbs greater freedom. His
+head was bare and his light hair stood straight up from his forehead.
+Grasping the hawser, he plunged into the sea and dragged himself toward
+the rock to which his father was fastened.
+
+The group on the point stood silent, watching him struggle yard by yard
+through the black water until he gained the ridge. On it lay the figure
+in the boatswain's chair, struggling feebly. Percy planted his feet on
+the slippery rock. But before he could reach his father another liquid
+avalanche buried them both.
+
+It seemed to the anxious watchers as if it would never run back. When it
+did, the older man sagged from the chair, motionless; the lad still
+clung to the hawser. The future of the house of Whittington hung
+trembling in the balance.
+
+The mate gave a groan.
+
+"He can't do it!"
+
+At that very instant Percy roused to activity. Even before the ledge was
+entirely clear he was leaning over his father, knife in hand. It was
+useless to attempt to extricate the rope-end from the crack in which it
+was caught; the only thing to do was to cut it. Percy stooped quickly.
+Already the next sea was curling over his head. He made a savage assault
+upon the rope.
+
+Slash! Slash! Twice his arm rose and fell. The billow was breaking down
+over him when he leaped erect and flung up his hand.
+
+"Pull!" yelled Jim.
+
+Just as the flood boiled over the ledge the chair and its senseless
+burden jerked away. Percy grasped the lashings and was towed along
+behind his father. Dread overcame him as he felt the limpness of the
+older man's body.
+
+Through the eddying tide ... up over the slippery rocks ... and
+presently Jim and the mate were unfastening the bonds that held the
+insensible millionaire in the boatswain's chair. They carried him up
+near the beacon and laid him down on Percy's oil-clothes.
+
+"He's breathing!" said the mate. "He'll come round all right. You'll
+know what to do for him. I'll go back and help get the other men off.
+Their lives mean just as much to their people as his does to you."
+
+Working with Budge and Throppy, he took in the slack of the hawser, and
+soon the chair was dancing back to the yacht. Meanwhile Jim and Percy
+were working over Mr. Whittington, and before long he recovered his
+senses. With a groan he half raised himself.
+
+"Where am I?"
+
+"You're all right, Dad!"
+
+"Percy!"
+
+Both father and son showed a depth of feeling Jim would hardly have
+credited them with possessing.
+
+"You don't need me here any longer," he said. "I'll go down and help
+pull the others ashore. Throw these oil-clothes of mine over your
+father, Percy, and make him comfortable, and as soon as the rest are
+safe we'll carry him to camp."
+
+"What's that?" growled the millionaire. "Carry me? I guess you don't
+know the Whittingtons, young man!"
+
+His jaw set and he rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet.
+
+"Come on, Percy! Where's that camp?"
+
+Walking slowly, the father leaning on his son's shoulder, the two
+disappeared in the darkness. Jim watched them for a few seconds, then
+started down over the ledges. The last half-hour had raised his
+estimation of the Whittington stock considerably above par.
+
+Then for a time, engrossed in life-saving, he forgot everything else. At
+last all the men were landed safely. It was none too soon, for the yacht
+was now almost down on her side; and it was plain she would pound to
+pieces before very long.
+
+Rescuers and rescued sought the cabin, where a good fire and hot coffee
+awaited them. Whittington, senior, clad in dry clothing, lay in Percy's
+bunk. Filippo was bustling to and fro to supply the wants of his
+numerous guests. His eyes fell upon a dark-haired, olive-skinned young
+man in the rear of the shipwrecked group, and the cup he was carrying
+clattered on the floor.
+
+"Frank!" he cried. "_Fratello mio!_"
+
+The brothers flung themselves into each other's arms. The Whittington
+family was not the only happy one in Camp Spurling that night.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+CROSSING THE TAPE
+
+
+There was little sleep on Tarpaulin, either for rescuers or rescued,
+until the small hours of the morning. The cabin was crowded to its
+utmost capacity, as the fish-house was too cold for the drenched,
+wearied men. Filippo kept a hot fire going until long after midnight,
+and served out coffee galore. During his intervals of leisure he and
+Frank conversed in liquid Sicilian.
+
+Outside, the storm roared and the surf boomed on the ledges about
+Brimstone; beyond in the blackness lay the wrecked _Barona_, hammering
+to pieces.
+
+Gradually conversation ceased and the camp grew quiet. The boys and
+their unexpected guests, sandwiched closely together on the floor and in
+the bunks, drifted off into fitful slumber. But John P. Whittington's
+eyes remained wide open.
+
+He was outstretched in Percy's bunk. His clothes hung drying before the
+stove, and he had on an old suit of Jim's, as nothing that Percy wore
+was large enough to fit his father's square, bulky figure. Beside him
+lay his son, sound asleep. John P. marveled at his regular breathing.
+Occasionally he touched the lad with his hand.
+
+All his thoughts centered about Percy. He could not but feel that this
+brown, wiry fellow who had saved his life was a stranger to him. He
+could see with half an eye that a great change had come over the boy
+during the summer; he had grown quieter, stronger, far more manly.
+
+Yes, Percy had stuck. John Whittington had only half believed that he
+could or would; and he had spent a good many valuable hours worrying
+over what he should do with his son if he didn't stick. The result
+showed that all those hours had been thrown away; but somehow the
+millionaire couldn't feel very bad about the waste.
+
+He began to wonder if Percy might not have done better in the past if
+his father had put in a little more time with him personally and spent
+less in mere money-making. He had tried to shift his responsibility off
+on somebody else, had hired others to do what he should have taken pains
+to do himself. That was a big mistake; John P. Whittington could see it
+plainly now. And it had come near being a pretty costly error for him,
+for Percy. Well, those days were over. Percy had turned squarely about
+and was doing better. Whittington, senior, determined to do better, too.
+
+Little by little the gale blew itself out. By daybreak the sky was clear
+and the wind had gone down, but the high rollers still wreaked their
+wrath on the shattered yacht and thundered on the point. A fiery sun
+shot its red rays over the slumberers in the crowded cabin. Filippo
+roused yawningly, built the fire, and busied himself about breakfast.
+
+Soon everybody was astir. The millionaire's clothes were now dry, and
+he dressed with the others. Save for a slight stiffness and a few
+bruises, he was all right.
+
+After breakfast he went up on Brimstone with Percy and the others to
+take a look at the _Barona_. The steel hull lay on its side on the
+foaming reef, a battered, crumpled shape, sadly different from the trim
+yacht that had left New York so short a time before. A miscellaneous lot
+of wreckage was swashing in the surf at the base of the point, and Jim
+and some of the crew were salvaging what they could; but it was not very
+much.
+
+Standing in safety on the promontory in the sunlight of the pleasant
+morning, John P. Whittington gazed long at the wreck.
+
+"Well," he remarked at last to the captain, who stood beside him, "I
+guess I see where I'm out fifty or seventy-five thousand dollars. Might
+as well take my medicine without a whimper. It was all my fault. You
+wanted to run into Portland when the storm was making up, but I thought
+we'd better try for some port nearer the island. I've gotten so into the
+habit of having men do as I want them to that I thought the wind and sea
+would do the same. But I've learned they won't. It's been an expensive
+mistake, and it came altogether too near being more expensive still.
+It's up to me to foot the bills. I'll make it all right with you and the
+crew and Sadler."
+
+The sea was going down rapidly. A council was held. The Rockland boat
+would leave Matinicus at half past one, and, as Jim felt that the
+_Barracouta_ could easily make the run to the island, it was decided to
+send the crew back to New York that very day. The captain and the mate
+arranged to remain on Tarpaulin until a wrecking-tug from Boston should
+arrive.
+
+Mr. Whittington, yielding to the persuasions of Percy and the invitation
+of the other boys, consented to take the first vacation of his life and
+stop with them a week or ten days, when their season on the island would
+close.
+
+While the crew were preparing to embark, Filippo approached Jim with his
+newly found brother.
+
+"I like to go with Frank," he said.
+
+"Sorry to have you leave, Filippo," returned Jim. "But I know just how
+you feel, and I don't blame you a bit."
+
+He called Stevens and Lane aside. Presently the latter went into the
+cabin and reappeared with a roll of bills. Jim handed them to the
+Italian.
+
+"Here's one hundred dollars, Filippo, your share for your summer's work.
+You've earned it fairly. If there's anything more coming to you, after
+we figure up, I'll send it on. What will your address be? We hope to see
+you again some time."
+
+Filippo was overcome. Tears of gratitude filled his eyes as he stammered
+his thanks. It was arranged that letters in the care of the Italian
+consul at Boston would always be forwarded to him.
+
+Jim and Throppy took the departing party over to Matinicus on the
+_Barracouta_, getting them there in ample time for the Rockland steamer.
+The sloop was back at Tarpaulin by four o'clock.
+
+Meanwhile John P. Whittington had started on his vacation. Though his
+time ran into thousands of dollars a week, he felt he could profitably
+spend a little of it in getting acquainted with his boy. One of the
+first things his keen eyes noted was the absence of the cigarettes.
+
+"Knocked off, eh, Percy? For how long?"
+
+"For good, Dad!"
+
+The millionaire suppressed a whistle; something had certainly struck
+Percy.
+
+The next morning, his sturdy figure garbed in oilskins, he started out
+with his son and Jim for Clay Bank. He had to acknowledge that rising at
+midnight was a little early, even for a man accustomed to work as hard
+as he had always done.
+
+Out on the shoal he was a silent but interested spectator while the
+trawl was being pulled and the fish taken aboard. An old swell was
+running, and he speedily discovered that seasickness was another thing
+his will could not master. That afternoon he watched Percy skilfully
+handle the splitting-knife and later do his part in baiting the trawl.
+
+On the morning following he went out lobstering, and found as much to
+interest him as on the day before. Everything was new to him. He
+discovered that even a man experienced in big business can learn some
+things from boys. Soon his sleep at night was as sound as his son's.
+
+He made a trip to Matinicus in the _Barracouta_, and talked prices with
+the superintendent of the fish-wharf and the proprietor of the general
+store.
+
+"Have a bottle of lemon, Dad?" invited Percy.
+
+Mr. Whittington was on the point of refusing; he did not care for soda.
+On second thought, however, he drank it soberly.
+
+Percy appreciated his father's acceptance of the proffered courtesy.
+
+"It's the first time my money ever bought anything for you."
+
+The experience was a novel one for them both.
+
+Just after light one morning the wrecking-tug from Boston appeared. A
+brief examination of the _Barona's_ hull by a diver showed that the
+havoc wrought by the sea and rocks had been so great that but little of
+value could be saved. So the tug started back that very afternoon, and
+the captain and the mate of the yacht went with her.
+
+The weather was now much cooler, and the boys were glad that their stay
+was to be short. Wild geese were honking overhead in V-shaped lines on
+their way south. Mr. Whittington accompanied the others on a gunning
+trip to Window Ledge, and came back with a dozen coots. He smacked his
+lips over the coot stew and dumplings prepared by Jim. Throppy
+dismantled his wireless and packed up his outfit to send away.
+
+On their last Thursday at Tarpaulin Uncle Tom Sprowl came in on the
+smack with Captain Higgins. He had boarded the _Calista_ at York Island.
+Everybody, including Nemo and Oso, was glad to see Uncle Tom. His
+rheumatism was fully cured and he was spry and chipper. He was more than
+satisfied with what the boys had accomplished during the summer, and he
+planned to continue lobstering after their departure.
+
+He noted the change in Percy.
+
+"Told Jim your son needed salting," he confided to Mr. Whittington.
+"He's all right now."
+
+The afternoon before they were to leave the island Roger reckoned up his
+accounts. They showed that after Uncle Tom's share had been deducted,
+Spurling & Company had a thousand dollars to divide. Of this, one
+hundred dollars had already been paid to Filippo.
+
+Lane handed Percy one hundred and fifty dollars.
+
+"I don't want him to take that," objected Mr. Whittington.
+
+"We shouldn't feel right if he didn't," said Jim.
+
+"Dad," spoke up Percy, "I want it. I've earned it. Look at those hands
+and arms. It's the first money I ever had that you didn't give to me.
+I'm going to have one of the bills framed behind glass."
+
+"He's earned it, fast enough," corroborated Jim. "Let him take it, Mr.
+Whittington. We'll all feel better about it if you will."
+
+So the millionaire gave his consent, with the mental reservation that in
+some way he would make it up to the others later.
+
+"What are you going to do with all that wealth, Percy?" he asked. "It
+won't keep you very long in gasolene."
+
+"Send half of it to Filippo for his brother Frank," replied Percy,
+promptly. "He lost about all he had when the _Barona_ was wrecked."
+
+Later that afternoon Mr. Whittington took Jim aside out of Percy's
+hearing.
+
+"Honestly, between us, how has the boy done this summer?"
+
+"I wouldn't ask to have anybody take hold any better than he has since
+the middle of July."
+
+The millionaire looked gratified.
+
+"I'm more than pleased at the way things have turned out, and I don't
+know how I can ever repay you. Can't I help you somehow in money
+matters?"
+
+Jim shook his head decidedly.
+
+"No, thank you, Mr. Whittington. As I told you at the beginning of the
+summer, we're making our own way. Percy is entitled to every cent we've
+paid him, and I can honestly say we're glad he's been with us."
+
+A half-hour afterward Mr. Whittington found his son alone.
+
+"How about those college conditions, Percy?" he asked.
+
+"Just finished my work on 'em before the wreck, Dad. I'm ready to take
+my exams the minute I strike college. It's been a hard pull, harder even
+than the fishing and lobstering, and it's kept me hustling; but I
+believe I've won out. Studying isn't so bad. All you've got to do is to
+make up your mind to get your lessons, and then get 'em."
+
+"That's so in other things besides studying, Percy. You'll find it out
+later on."
+
+"I guess I don't need to tell you," continued his son, "how much I owe
+to Jim Spurling and the others. They're the whitest bunch I ever ran
+with, and I wouldn't have missed my summer with them for anything."
+
+"Something different from what you felt three months ago, eh, Percy?
+Remember our talk at Graffam Academy, Commencement night?"
+
+"Rather guess I do! And, believe me, I sha'n't forget it in a hurry. By
+the way, there's one fellow I owe a good deal to that I haven't told
+you about yet."
+
+He related to his father the story of his two encounters with Jabe. The
+older man listened with grim but satisfied attention.
+
+"Licked him at last, did you? If you hadn't, I should want you to look
+him up and do it now. It's a Whittington habit to carry through what you
+begin. Well, Percy, you've certainly made good."
+
+A glimmer of pride, the first he had ever shown in his son, crossed his
+face.
+
+"I blamed you for junking your auto. Now I've gone and junked a yacht
+that'll cost me more than fifty times as much. Well, there's no fool
+like the old fool! But it's been worth it."
+
+He gave his son a look in which affection mingled with pride.
+
+"It was quicksilver, kill or cure; and I'm mighty glad it's been cure."
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 26560-8.txt or 26560-8.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/5/6/26560
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://www.gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/26560-8.zip b/26560-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..392039c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-8.zip
diff --git a/26560-h.zip b/26560-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9cda6a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h.zip
diff --git a/26560-h/26560-h.htm b/26560-h/26560-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..916c6b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/26560-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,9922 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Jim Spurling, Fisherman, by Albert Walter Tolman</title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    p {  margin-top: .75em;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .75em;
+         }
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+         text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+         clear: both;
+         }
+    hr { width: 33%;
+	 margin-top: 2em;
+	 margin-bottom: 2em;
+         margin-left: auto;
+         margin-right: auto;
+         clear: both;
+       }
+
+    table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;}
+
+    body{margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+        }
+
+.pagenum  { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+            /*  visibility: hidden;  */
+                position: absolute;
+                left: 1%;
+                font-size: smaller;
+                text-align: right;
+                color: #A9A9A9
+              } /* page numbers */
+
+    ins.correction {
+		text-decoration:none; /* replace default underline.. */
+		border-bottom: thin dotted gray; /* ..with delicate gray line */
+		}
+
+    .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .center   {text-align: center;}
+    .smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+    .caption  {font-weight: bold;}
+    .figcenter   {margin: auto; text-align: center;}
+    .figleft     {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top:
+                 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;}
+
+    a:link {text-decoration: none}
+    a:visited {text-decoration: none}
+    a:active {text-decoration: none}
+    a:hover {text-decoration: underline;}
+
+    hr.full { width: 100%;
+              margin-top: 3em;
+              margin-bottom: 0em;
+              margin-left: auto;
+              margin-right: auto;
+              height: 4px;
+              border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */
+              border-style: solid;
+              border-color: #000000;
+              clear: both; }
+    pre      {font-size: 85%;}
+    // -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+    </style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Jim Spurling, Fisherman, by Albert Walter
+Tolman</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Jim Spurling, Fisherman</p>
+<p>       or Making Good</p>
+<p>Author: Albert Walter Tolman</p>
+<p>Release Date: September 8, 2008  [eBook #26560]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Bruce Albrecht, Verity White,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table cellpadding="5" border="2" style="border-style: solid; border-collapse: collapse; background-color: #DCDCDC" summary="note">
+<tr>
+<td>Transcriber's note:<br /> Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has been preserved.<br />
+ Obvious typographical errors have been <ins class="correction" title="like this">corrected</ins>.</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN</h1>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 321px;">
+<img src="images/image1.jpg" width="321" height="500" alt="image1" title="Illustration" />
+<p class="caption" style="font-size: smaller; text-align: right">[See page 279</p>
+<p class="caption" style="font-size: smaller; text-align: center">HE PLUNGED INTO THE SEA AND DRAGGED HIMSELF TOWARD THE ROCK TO WHICH HIS
+FATHER WAS FASTENED</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h1>JIM SPURLING<br />
+FISHERMAN</h1>
+
+<h2><i>or Making Good</i></h2>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+<h2>ALBERT W. TOLMAN</h2>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<h3>ILLUSTRATED</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 333px;">
+<img src="images/image2.jpg" width="333" height="200" alt="image2" title="Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<h3>HARPER &amp; BROTHERS PUBLISHERS<br />
+NEW YORK AND LONDON</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 5%" />
+
+<p class="center" style="font-size: smaller"><span class="smcap">Jim Spurling, Fisherman</span><br />
+Copyright, 1918, by Harper &amp; Brothers<br />
+Printed in the United States of America</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 5%" />
+
+<p class="center">TO MY BOYS<br />
+<span class="smcap">Albert and Edward</span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<table width="65%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="contents">
+<tr>
+<td><span style="font-size: smaller">CHAP.</span></td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+<td align="right"><span style="font-size: smaller">PAGE</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>I.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Smashed Up</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page1">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>II.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">A Fresh Start</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page18">18</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>III.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tarpaulin Island</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page29">29</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>IV.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Midnight Marauders</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page41">41</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>V.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Getting Ready</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page53">53</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>VI.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Trawling for Hake</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page66">66</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>VII.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Shorts and Counters</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page78">78</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>VIII.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Salt-water Gipsies</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page90">90</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>IX.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Fists and Fireworks</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page102">102</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>X.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rebellion in Camp</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page114">114</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XI.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Turn of Tide</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page128">128</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XII.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pulling Together</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page138">138</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XIII.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Fog-Bound</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page150">150</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XIV.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Swordfishing</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page162">162</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XV.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Midsummer Days</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page174">174</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XVI.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">A Lost Alumnus</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page186">186</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XVII.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Blown Off</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page198">198</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XVIII.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Buoy or Breaker</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page208">208</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XIX.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">On the Whistler</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page221">221</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XX.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Squaring an Account</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page233">233</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XXI.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Old Friends</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page243">243</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XXII.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Percy Scores</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page255">255</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XXIII.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Whittington Grit</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page269">269</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>XXIV.</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Crossing the Tape</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page283">283</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+<table width="65%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="illustrations">
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">He Plunged into the Sea and Dragged Himself
+toward the Rock to which His Father Was
+Fastened</span> </td>
+<td align="center"><i>Frontispiece</i></td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Camp at Sprowl's Cove</span></td>
+<td align="center"><i>Facing p.</i></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page56">56</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">Leaning Against the Mast-hoop that Encircled
+His Waist, He Lifted the Long Lance and
+Poised It for the Blow</span></td>
+<td align="center">"</td>
+<td><a href="#page166">166</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">Knees Braced Tightly Against the Sides of the
+Stern, Hands Locked Round the Stout Butt
+of the Lance, He Foiled Rush after Rush of
+the Black-finned, White-bellied Pirates</span></td>
+<td align="center">"</td>
+<td><a href="#page172">172</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">They Stood Close Together on the Circular Top,
+Holding on to the Crossed Bails, Waist-high</span></td>
+<td align="center">"</td>
+<td><a href="#page222">222</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">"We Need that Sloop and We're Going to Have
+Her!"</span></td>
+<td align="center">"</td>
+<td><a href="#page252">252</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page1" id="page1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>JIM SPURLING<br />
+FISHERMAN</h2>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>I</h2>
+
+<h2>SMASHED UP</h2>
+
+<p>"Here comes J. P. Whittington, Junior, Esquire, in his new Norman! Some
+speed&mdash;what?"</p>
+
+<p>The three Graffam Academy seniors, Jim Spurling, Roger Lane, and
+Winthrop Stevens, who were sitting on the low, wooden fence before the
+campus, earnestly discussing the one thing that had engrossed their
+minds for the past two weeks, stopped talking and leaned forward.</p>
+
+<p>On the broad, elm-lined street beyond the Mall suddenly appeared a cloud
+of dust, out of which shot a gray automobile. Its high speed soon
+brought it to the academy grounds, and it came to an abrupt stop before
+the fence.</p>
+
+<p>"Pile in, fellows!" shouted the driver, a bareheaded youth in white
+flannels, "and I'll take you on a little spin."</p>
+
+<p>He was a slim, sallow lad of seventeen, with a straw-colored pompadour
+crowning his freckled forehead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page2" id="page2">[Pg 2]</a></span> The sleeves of his outing shirt were
+rolled up above his elbows, revealing his bony, sunburnt arms. He wore a
+gay red tie, and a tennis blazer, striped black and white, lay on the
+seat beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"No, thanks, Percy," replied Lane. "Sorry we can't go; but we're too
+busy."</p>
+
+<p>Spurling and Stevens nodded as Whittington's light-blue eyes traveled
+inquiringly from one to the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, come on!" he invited. "Be sports! Let's celebrate the end of the
+course. Just to show how good I feel, I'm going to scorch a three-mile
+hole through the atmosphere between here and Mount Barlow faster than it
+was ever done before. Tumble aboard and help hold this barouche down on
+the pike while I burn the top off it for the last time."</p>
+
+<p>Pulling out a book of tissue wrappers and a sack of tobacco, he began to
+roll a cigarette with twitching, yellowed fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"Anybody got a match? No? Then I'll have to dig one up myself."</p>
+
+<p>He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a lucifer. Soon he was inhaling
+the smoke and talking rapidly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm so glad this is my last week here I feel like kicking my head off.
+Once I shake the dust of this dump off my tires, you can bet you'll
+never catch me here again. Say, do you know what this Main Street
+reminds me of? An avenue in Metairie Cemetery in New Orleans, with a row
+of white tombs on each side. I saw it last Christmas. They bury 'em
+aboveground there, too. The Rubes in this burg are just as dead, only
+they don't know it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page3" id="page3">[Pg 3]</a></span>Drawing a final, long, luxurious whiff, he tossed the half-smoked
+cigarette away.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, so long! My dad's coming on the five-ten to see his only son
+graduate <i>cum laude</i>. And me loaded down with conditions a truck-horse
+couldn't haul! Wouldn't that jar you? Guess I'll have to do my
+road-burning before he gets here. Hold a watch on me, will you? I'm out
+for the record."</p>
+
+<p>"Careful, or you'll get pinched for over-speeding," cautioned Stevens.</p>
+
+<p>Whittington spat contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>"Pinch your grandmother!" he jeered. "I've been pinched too many times
+to mind a little thing like that."</p>
+
+<p>Off darted the gray car. The three gazed after it in silence. Then
+Spurling spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Must seem rather pleasant to have a bank-account you can't touch the
+bottom of, mustn't it? They say his father's all sorts of a millionaire.
+Hope he doesn't get smashed up or run over somebody."</p>
+
+<p>"He's a good-natured fool," commented Lane. "But you can't help liking
+him, after all. Now let's get back to business."</p>
+
+<p>It was Commencement week in mid-June at the old country academy nestled
+among the New England hills. The lawns before the substantial white
+houses were emerald with the fresh, unrivaled green of spring. Fragrant
+lilacs sweetened the soft air. The walks under the thick-leafed elms
+were thronged with talking, laughing groups. Bright-colored dresses
+dotted the campus before the dingy brick buildings. Tennis-courts and
+ball-field were alive with active<span class='pagenum'><a name="page4" id="page4">[Pg 4]</a></span> figures. A few days more and students
+and strangers would be gone, and the old town would sink into the drowsy
+quiet of the long summer vacation.</p>
+
+<p>Lounging on the notched, whittled fence, Lane, Spurling, and Stevens
+fell once more into earnest conversation.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling came from a Maine coast town. He was nineteen, tall,
+broad-shouldered, dark-complexioned, deliberate in speech and movements.
+Physically very strong, he had caught on the academy ball team and
+played guard in football. Mentally he was a trifle slow; but in the
+whole school there was no squarer, more solid fellow. So far as finances
+went, he was dependent on his own resources; whatever education he got
+he must earn himself.</p>
+
+<p>Lane afforded in many respects a decided contrast to Spurling. Reared on
+a New Hampshire farm in the shadow of the White Mountains, he was of
+medium build, wiry and active, a practical joker, full of life and
+spirit. He had red hair and the quick temper that goes with it. Though
+not much of a student, he had at eighteen a keen, clear business head.
+Like Spurling, he had been obliged to make his own way; and, like
+Spurling, he was abundantly able to make it.</p>
+
+<p>Winthrop Stevens, or "Throppy," as his friends nicknamed him, claimed a
+small Massachusetts city as his home. He was the best scholar of the
+three, dark, quiet, studious, with a decided trend toward mechanics and
+electricity. Though not obliged to work for his schooling, he had always
+chummed with the other two, and with them had been a waiter at a shore
+hotel the previous season.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page5" id="page5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The trio were endeavoring to decide what they should do the coming
+summer.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Lane, "what shall it be? Juggling food again at the
+Beachmont?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not for me," answered Spurling, decidedly. "I'm sick of hanging round a
+table, pretending to do as many unnecessary things as you can, wondering
+whether the man you've waited on is going to give up a half-dollar or a
+nickel, knowing that the more uncomfortable you can make him feel the
+bigger fee you'll pull down. No more tipping for me! I'd rather earn my
+money, even if I don't get so much."</p>
+
+<p>"Hits me, Jim," assented Stevens. "What do you say, Budge?"</p>
+
+<p>"Same here," agreed Roger.</p>
+
+<p>The long-drawn shriek of a locomotive rose from the valley-bottom.</p>
+
+<p>"There's the five-ten!" ejaculated Lane. "I pity Whittington when his
+dad finds how things have gone."</p>
+
+<p>"Percy isn't the only one who needs sympathy," said Spurling, soberly.
+"What about his father?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry for 'em both," was Lane's comment. "But the Whittington
+family'll have to handle its own troubles. Now, fellow-members, to the
+question before the house! Unless I raise at least two hundred dollars
+in the next three months, it's no college for me in September."</p>
+
+<p>A short silence followed. Spurling took out his knife and deliberately
+slithered a long, splintery shaving off the fence-top.</p>
+
+<p>"I've an idea," he said, slowly. "Give me till<span class='pagenum'><a name="page6" id="page6">[Pg 6]</a></span> evening and I'll tell
+you about it. What d'you say to a last game of tennis?"</p>
+
+<p>The others agreed and slipped off the fence. Lane glanced up the road.</p>
+
+<p>"Here comes Whittington, scorching like a blue streak! And there's Bill
+Sanders's old auto crawling up May Street hill from the railroad
+station! If Percy should hit him&mdash;good-night!"</p>
+
+<p>The gray machine rapidly grew larger. The people on the sidewalks stood
+still and watched.</p>
+
+<p>May Street crossed Main at right angles, and a high cedar hedge before
+the corner house made it impossible for the two drivers to see each
+other until they were close together. On sped the gray car.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't he humming!"</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Whittington thrust out his left arm.</p>
+
+<p>"He's going to turn down May Street!" shouted Lane. "Bound to the
+station after his father. He'll hit Sanders, sure as fate! Hi! Hi there,
+Percy!"</p>
+
+<p>Heedless of the warning, Whittington whirled round into May Street and
+plunged full tilt into the hotel bus, striking it a glancing blow back
+of its front wheel. There was a tremendous crash.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, fellows!" cried Lane.</p>
+
+<p>They ran at top speed toward the wreck. Through the clearing dust three
+figures were visible, extricating themselves from the ruins. Sanders,
+the hotel chauffeur, was groaning and rubbing his ankle. His only
+passenger, a bald, thick-set man, with smooth face and bulldog jaw, had
+a bleeding scratch down his right cheek and a badly torn coat.
+Whittington,<span class='pagenum'><a name="page7" id="page7">[Pg 7]</a></span> apparently unharmed, was chalky and stuttering from
+fright.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling, for all his slowness, was the first to reach the wreck. He
+helped the stout stranger to his feet, and the man turned angrily toward
+Whittington. An exclamation of surprise burst from both.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad!"</p>
+
+<p>"Percy!"</p>
+
+<p>Understanding struggled with indignation on the older man's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he growled, "so you've done it again!"</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the lad stood in shamefaced alarm, shaking from head to
+foot.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you much hurt, Dad?" he stammered.</p>
+
+<p>"Only a scratch," returned Whittington, senior. "But it's no thanks to
+you that I wasn't killed."</p>
+
+<p>He turned to Sanders, who was still chafing his ankle.</p>
+
+<p>"Anything broken?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir; only a sprain."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad it's no worse. Have this mess cleared away and I'll fix up
+with you later at the hotel; and get my suit-case over to my room, will
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>To his son he said:</p>
+
+<p>"We'll go to your dormitory."</p>
+
+<p>He limped grimly ahead; Percy followed. As he passed the three seniors
+he pulled a face of mock repentance. The boys resumed their way to the
+tennis-court.</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty poor stick, isn't he?" commented Lane, disgustedly. "Almost
+kills his father, and then laughs at it. Throws away in a few seconds
+more<span class='pagenum'><a name="page8" id="page8">[Pg 8]</a></span> than enough to put the three of us half-way through our freshman
+year in college. No, I've no use for Whittington."</p>
+
+<p>"If he'd had to earn his own money," remarked Spurling, "he'd look on
+things differently. He's got a good streak in him."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe so; but it'll take mighty hard work to bring it out. Well, here's
+the court. How'll we play?"</p>
+
+<p>In Whittington's room father and son silently removed the traces of the
+disaster. Then the father pointed to a chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit there! I've something to say to you."</p>
+
+<p>Percy took the indicated seat. Whittington, senior's, jaw stiffened.</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" he snapped. "Seems to me excuses are in order. You've smashed a
+thousand-dollar machine, ruined a five-hundred-dollar one, and just
+missed killing yourself and me in the bargain. Pretty afternoon's work,
+isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>Percy looked injured, almost defiant.</p>
+
+<p>"You must know I'm mighty sorry to have dragged you into this scrape. I
+was half frightened to death when I thought you were hurt. But what odds
+does it make about the cars?"</p>
+
+<p>A twinkle appeared in his eye.</p>
+
+<p>"You've got the cash, Dad. Who'll spend it, if I don't?"</p>
+
+<p>Taking out his book, he began rolling a cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop that!" exclaimed his father, angrily, "and listen to me. It isn't
+the money I mind so much as it is the fool style in which you've thrown
+it away. Where's the thing going to end? That's what I<span class='pagenum'><a name="page9" id="page9">[Pg 9]</a></span> want to know. If
+you'd only get mad when I talk to you, there'd be some hope for you. But
+you haven't backbone enough left to get mad. You've smoked it all away."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, come now, Dad!"</p>
+
+<p>"You ask who'll spend the money. I know mighty well who won't, unless he
+strikes a new gait. There's plenty of colleges and hospitals to endow,
+and enough other ways of putting all I've got where it'll do some good.
+I've worked too hard and too long for my fortune to have a fool scatter
+it to the winds. You can come down to the hotel with me for supper.
+After that I'll foot the bills for your little excursion, and then go
+over alone to see Principal Blodgett. And let me say right now that
+it'll be a pretty important interview for you."</p>
+
+<p>Lane, Spurling, and Stevens, their tennis over, were starting for their
+boarding-house. Crossing the campus, they met Percy and his father. The
+former nodded soberly. Whittington, senior, a cross of court-plaster on
+his right cheek, passed them without a glance.</p>
+
+<p>"Percy doesn't look very happy," remarked Stevens, when they were at a
+safe distance.</p>
+
+<p>"Just a passing cloud," grinned Lane. "It takes more than a little thing
+like junking a thousand-dollar auto to bother Percy. He'll forget all
+about it before to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"See that dreadnought jaw on his father? If I was Percy I'd be kind of
+scary of that jaw. John P. Whittington isn't a man to stand much
+monkeying, or I miss my guess."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we've got troubles of our own, and no dad<span class='pagenum'><a name="page10" id="page10">[Pg 10]</a></span> with a fat
+bank-account to foot the bills. Why so still, Jim? Something on your
+mind, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>Jim's forehead was wrinkled.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait!" was all he deigned.</p>
+
+<p>Back in his room, after supper, he unbosomed himself: "A week ago I had
+a letter from Uncle Tom Sprowl. He lives in Stonington, on Deer Isle,
+east of Penobscot Bay; but most of the time he fishes and lobsters from
+Tarpaulin Island, ten miles south of Isle au Haut. Last month, just
+after he had started the season in good shape, he was taken down with
+rheumatism, and the doctor has ordered him to keep off the water for
+three months. Now that island is one of the best stands for fish and
+lobsters on the Maine coast. Somebody's going to use it this summer. Why
+shouldn't we? If we have reasonably good luck, we can clear up two
+hundred and fifty dollars apiece for the season's work. I've talked the
+thing over with Mr. Blodgett, and he thinks it's all right. Of course
+we'd be in for a lot of good hard work; but it's healthy, and we're all
+in first-class trim. We'd soon get hardened to it. Now, boys, it's up to
+you."</p>
+
+<p>Lane hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think that two such farmers as Throppy and I could make much of
+a fist at fishing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure thing! I can show you how. I've fished since I was ten years old."</p>
+
+<p>"Where did you say the island is?" asked Stevens.</p>
+
+<p>"Right out in the Atlantic Ocean, a good twenty-five miles from the
+mainland. It's about a half-mile long and a quarter broad, partly
+covered with scrub evergreen, and has fifty acres of pasture.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page11" id="page11">[Pg 11]</a></span> Uncle
+Tom's got some sheep there, too. He's afraid they'll be stolen; so he
+wants somebody there the earliest minute possible. He'll furnish all the
+gear and go halves with us on the season's catch. What do you say,
+Budge?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm with you, if Throppy is."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a go," was Stevens's verdict.</p>
+
+<p>Somebody knocked on the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Come in!" called Spurling.</p>
+
+<p>To their great surprise, in came Mr. Whittington.</p>
+
+<p>Removing his Panama, he took the chair Spurling offered him. An
+unlighted cigar was gripped between his short, stubby fingers. There
+were dark circles under his steel-gray eyes, and his jaw had, if
+possible, more of a bulldog set than ever. His square, sturdy build,
+without fat or softness, suggested a freight locomotive with a driving
+power to go through anything. He was not a handsome man, but he was
+undeniably a strong one.</p>
+
+<p>He plunged at once into the purpose of his visit.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess you know I'm Whittington's father. I've just been over to
+Principal Blodgett's, having a talk about Percy. I don't need to tell
+you how he's spent his year here, so I'll come right to the point."</p>
+
+<p>He leaned forward and fastened his keen eyes on Spurling.</p>
+
+<p>"The principal says you plan to spend the summer fishing from an island
+on the Maine coast. I want Percy to go with you."</p>
+
+<p>The three exchanged glances of amazement. Lane swallowed a grin. Nobody
+spoke for a half-minute; then Spurling broke the silence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page12" id="page12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to hurt your feelings, Mr. Whittington, but, honestly, the
+thing isn't possible. That island is ten miles from the nearest other
+land. We're not out for a pleasure junket, but for three months of the
+hardest kind of hard work. There'll be no automobiling, no pool or cards
+or moving pictures. It means being up at midnight, and not getting to
+bed until the fish have been taken care of. It means sore fingers and
+lame backs and aching joints. It means standing wind and cold and fog
+and rain until you're tired and wet and chilled to the bone. It's a
+dead-earnest business out there, one hundred days of it, and every day
+has got to count. A college year for the three of us hangs on this
+summer, and we can't risk having it spoiled. You'll have to think up
+some other place for Percy."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Whittington's chin set a trifle more firmly. He pulled out his
+cigar-case and proffered it to each of the boys in turn.</p>
+
+<p>"Have a perfecto? No? Guess it's as well for you not to, after all. Wish
+Percy was taken that way. Excuse me if I light up. I can talk better."</p>
+
+<p>Soon he was smoking hard.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to have a little talk with you about my boy. Come, now, just
+between ourselves, what kind of a fellow is he? You probably know him
+better than I do. I've had my business; and he's been under tutors and
+away at school so long that I haven't seen much of him since his mother
+died, eight years ago."</p>
+
+<p>The boys glanced at one another and hesitated.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page13" id="page13">[Pg 13]</a></span> Young Whittington was a
+hard topic to discuss before his father. The millionaire misunderstood
+their silence. His face grew gloomy.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, if he's as bad as all that, no matter! I hoped he might have
+<i>some</i> good points."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't misunderstand us, Mr. Whittington," said Spurling, quietly.
+"Percy isn't a bad fellow. He isn't dishonest. He doesn't cheat or crib.
+He's flunked honestly, and that counts for something. He's a good
+sprinter, and plays a rattling game of tennis, and he'd be a very fair
+baseball-player if he'd only let cigarettes alone. But he's soft and
+he's lazy. He's had too much money and taken things too easy. He's
+probably never earned a single cent or done a stroke of real work in his
+life. He's been in the habit of letting his pocketbook take the place of
+his brain and muscles; and he's got the idea that a check, if it's only
+large enough, can buy anything on earth. That's why he wouldn't be any
+good to himself or anybody else out on Tarpaulin Island. He'd simply be
+underfoot. It'd be cruel to take him there. Excuse me if I hurt your
+feelings. You've asked a straight question, and I've tried to give you a
+straight answer."</p>
+
+<p>The man chewed the butt of his cigar for a few seconds. Then he removed
+it from his mouth and blew a smoke-ring.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe," he said, reflectively, "that either of you three had
+any tougher time than I had when I was a boy. No school after fourteen.
+No college. Just work, work, work, and then some more work. But it
+hardened me up, made a man of me; perhaps it hardened me too much.
+Guess<span class='pagenum'><a name="page14" id="page14">[Pg 14]</a></span> some of the men I've done business with have thought so. After I
+made my first million&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He broke off abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"But let's get back to Percy. I've done everything in the world for that
+boy, and now I'm at the end of my rope. Tutors, private schools, summer
+camps, trainers, travel, automobiles&mdash;and what have they all amounted
+to?"</p>
+
+<p>He talked rapidly and nervously, emphasizing with his cigar.</p>
+
+<p>"It's no use to offer him any prize; he's had everything already. I
+found he was hitting too rapid a pace in the bigger schools, so I sent
+him down here. Thought he might do better in a quiet place. But his
+reports didn't show it, and the talk I've just had with the principal
+has pretty near discouraged me. I've bucked up against a good many tough
+propositions, but I'm free to say that he's the toughest. I don't see
+where he ever got that cigarette habit. I never smoked one in my life."</p>
+
+<p>Again he began puffing furiously.</p>
+
+<p>"He ought to have the stuff in him somewhere; and I believe a summer
+with you fellows'd bring it out. If it didn't, I don't know what would.
+Come, boys! Strain a point to oblige me! I'll pay you anything in
+reason. How large a check shall I write?"</p>
+
+<p>He reached for his inside pocket. Spurling flushed and held up his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Mr. Whittington," said he, decidedly, "we can't do business that
+way. We're not running any reform school and we're not asking anybody to
+give us a cent. We're going out there to earn money for our first year
+in college, and we're going to take<span class='pagenum'><a name="page15" id="page15">[Pg 15]</a></span> it out of the sea, every last
+copper! I don't say it to boast, but since I was ten I've had to shift
+for myself. I know where every cent in my pocket and every ounce of
+muscle on my body has come from. If Percy should go with us he'd have to
+take his medicine with the rest of us and pay his own way by working.
+Give us a little time alone to talk the matter over, and we'll soon tell
+you whether he can go or not."</p>
+
+<p>Whittington heaved his square bulk erect and crushed on his hat.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be back in ten minutes."</p>
+
+<p>Almost to the second he was at the door again. Stepping inside, he
+awaited their verdict, not trying to conceal his anxiety. A great relief
+overspread his face at Spurling's first words.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Mr. Whittington! Percy can come&mdash;on trial. He can stop with
+us a month. Then if we don't hitch together he'll have to leave. But if
+he likes it, and we like him, he can stay the rest of the summer. If the
+bunch earns anything over and above what it would have gotten if he
+hadn't been with us, he'll get it. If it doesn't, he won't."</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes later the millionaire entered Percy's room. The latter was
+smoking a cigarette and playing solitaire. He glanced up expectantly, a
+couple of cards in his hand. As he sat down opposite his son, John
+Whittington had never looked grimmer. The vein swelled blue on his
+flushed temples, and the lines on his face were deeply drawn.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Percy, you and I are going to talk business. Put down those cards
+and chuck that coffin-nail into the stove. Why can't you use a man's
+smoke if<span class='pagenum'><a name="page16" id="page16">[Pg 16]</a></span> you're going to smoke at all? I've been talking with Mr.
+Blodgett, and I find it's the same old story. You've wound up your
+preparatory course with a worse smash than you had this afternoon. You
+haven't made good. I'm beginning to doubt if you <i>can</i> make good. You've
+done worse every year. You're nothing now, and if you keep on like this
+you'll soon be worse than nothing. You can put down one thing good and
+solid&mdash;I won't stand for your going the pace like Chauncey Pike or
+George Brimmer's son. I'd give half my money&mdash;yes, the whole of it, if
+you had the stuff in you that young Spurling has. I mean it."</p>
+
+<p>He stopped, then began again:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to give you one chance more, and only one. It's quicksilver,
+kill or cure, and a stiff dose at that. I've just been talking with
+Spurling and his two friends. They're to spend the summer fishing from
+an island off the Maine coast, to earn money to start their college
+course. And you're going with them!"</p>
+
+<p>"What! Me! I rather guess not! Nailed to the mast three months out on a
+rock like that? Not for a minute! Besides, I'm booked for Bar Harbor day
+after to-morrow. Got my ticket already."</p>
+
+<p>"Let's look at it!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy pulled out the slip of pasteboard and passed it over.</p>
+
+<p>His father thrust it into his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"I can get the money on it. The agent'll take it back."</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't want him to take it back."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>I</i> do."</p>
+
+<p>The bulldog jaws clamped together.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page17" id="page17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I say, Dad! Come, now! That isn't using me right!"</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't using you right? Why not? Don't be a fool, Percy! Whose money
+bought that ticket?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mi&mdash; Why&mdash;er&mdash;yours, of course!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, will you go to the island?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I will not."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you don't get a cent more from me. You've overdrawn your
+bank-account already."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know? You haven't been down to the bank."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't suppose I'd have a monthly check deposited to your account
+without arranging to know something about it, do you? Mighty poor
+business man if I did! Now, Percy, use what little brain you have!
+You've no money, and you can't earn any. Nobody would be fool enough to
+hire you. There's nothing on earth you can do. I'm going to give you one
+last chance to make a man of yourself. You've three months to make good
+in and I expect you to do it. You've got to make up those conditions and
+earn your salt to show there's some excuse for your being alive. Your
+whole life hangs on the way you spend the next hundred days. I start for
+the West Coast to-morrow, and won't be back till fall. I want you to
+write me&mdash;if you feel like it. Will you go?"</p>
+
+<p>The strains of a violin came floating in through the open window. The
+academy bell struck ten long, lingering strokes.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do you say? I'm waiting."</p>
+
+<p>Percy swallowed hard.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page18" id="page18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>II</h2>
+
+<h3>A FRESH START</h3>
+
+<p>Two mornings later Percy Whittington was awakened in his room at the
+Thorndike in Rockland by a bell-boy hammering on his door.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" he inquired, stupidly.</p>
+
+<p>"Five o'clock! Five o'clock! Your call!"</p>
+
+<p>"Is that all?" exclaimed Percy, relieved. "I didn't know but the hotel
+might be on fire."</p>
+
+<p>He rolled over for another nap. Half an hour later he was roused by a
+lively tattoo beaten on the panels by two sets of vigorous knuckles.</p>
+
+<p>"Inside there, Whittington!" exhorted Lane's voice. "Wake up! This isn't
+any rest-cure. The Stonington boat starts in twenty minutes. You've lost
+your breakfast, and unless you hustle you'll make us miss the steamer.
+Better let us in to help you pack!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy bounded out of bed and admitted Lane and Spurling. While he
+dressed hastily they jammed his scattered belongings into two
+suit-cases. Stevens joined them in the hotel office and they made a
+lively spurt for Tillson's Wharf, reaching the <i>Governor Bodwell</i> just
+before her plank was pulled aboard.</p>
+
+<p>The party had arrived in Rockland on the late train the night before,
+and were to start for Stoning<span class='pagenum'><a name="page19" id="page19">[Pg 19]</a></span>ton early that morning. Percy's drowsiness
+had almost thwarted their plans.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to revise your sleeping schedule, Whittington, when we get
+to Tarpaulin," said Spurling.</p>
+
+<p>Percy was too much interested in the view opening before him to take
+offense at this remark.</p>
+
+<p>It was a calm, beautiful June morning. A gentle breeze barely rippled
+the smooth, blue water as the <i>Governor Bodwell</i> headed eastward out of
+the harbor. Behind lay the city, fringed with lazily smoking lime-kilns,
+each contributing its quota to the dim haze that obscured the
+shore-line. Leaving on their left the little light on the tip of the
+long granite breakwater, and presently on their right the white tower on
+the hummock of Owl's Head, marking the entrance of rocky Muscle Ridge
+Channel, they were soon plowing across the blue floor of West Penobscot
+Bay. Due north, Rockport Harbor opened between wooded shores, while
+beyond it rose the Camden Hills, monarchs of the rolling line of
+mountains stretching up toward Belfast.</p>
+
+<p>A five-mile sail, and they were threading their way through narrow,
+winding Fox Island Thoroughfare, to the wharf at North Haven. Thence
+across East Penobscot Bay, by Deer Island Thoroughfare, to the granite
+wharf at Stonington, the rockiest town in the United States. Here they
+disembarked, and a short walk up a side-street brought them to the house
+of Spurling's uncle, Mr. Thomas Sprowl.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Tom was at home, confined by his rheumatism and the doctor's
+orders. He greeted the boys gladly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page20" id="page20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Got your letter last night, Jim," said he, "and I can tell you it took
+a weight off my mind. Since I've been sick I've nigh fretted myself to
+death about Tarpaulin."</p>
+
+<p>He groaned, and shifted himself painfully in his chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Those twinges take me unexpected," he explained. "You see," returning
+to his subject, "all my gear's on the island, besides those fifty sheep.
+Quite a risk for a man with so little as I've got. You don't know how
+pleased I am that you fellows are going to be on deck there this summer.
+You're a good, husky lot&mdash;at least most of ye." He scanned Percy a
+trifle dubiously. "You'll have a fine time the next three months, and
+you'll make some money. Wish I could go down with ye!"</p>
+
+<p>He winced and stifled another groan.</p>
+
+<p>"When do you plan to start?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just as soon as we can arrange for our boats and stores," replied Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"Good enough! You can be there to-night, slick as a whistle. Remember
+the <i>Barracouta</i>, that old power-sloop we've taken so many trips in?
+I've had her overhauled this spring and a new seven-and-a-half-horse
+engine put in her; her jibs and mainsail are in first-class shape.
+You'll find her at my mooring near the steamboat wharf. My Bucksport
+dory has just been pulled up on the ledges and painted. You'll need
+another boat besides, so I've arranged with Sammy Stinson to let you
+have his pea-pod. She'll do to lobster in. Now as to gear. You'll find
+over a hundred lobster-traps piled up on the sea-wall near my cabin, and
+there's six tubs of<span class='pagenum'><a name="page21" id="page21">[Pg 21]</a></span> trawl in the fish-shed. Keep an account of whatever
+stuff you have to buy for repairs, and we can settle at the end of the
+season."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the best way of handling our catch?"</p>
+
+<p>"The fish you can split and salt and take over to Matinicus once a week.
+Your lobsters will sell easy to some smackman. Captain Ben Higgins comes
+east from Portland every week in the <i>Calista</i>; he's been in the habit
+of making Tarpaulin his next port of call after York Island. You'll find
+him square as a brick. Better buy your supplies at Matinicus; it's a
+strong twelve miles off, but that isn't a bad run in decent weather."</p>
+
+<p>The boys rose to go.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Uncle Tom," said Jim, "the next time we see each other, I hope
+you'll be feeling fit as a fiddle."</p>
+
+<p>"You can't wish that any harder than I do, my boy. Oh, by the way, I
+nearly forgot one thing. Here, Nemo!"</p>
+
+<p>A fox-terrier, lying on a rug, sprang up alertly. He was white, except
+for two brown ears and a diamond of the same color on the top of his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"Better take this dog along. The mate of a St. John coaster gave him to
+me last fall. I call him Captain Nemo. He's death on rats; and there's
+some on the island this year. Must have come ashore from a schooner
+wrecked there in the winter. Another thing! Got any gun?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Then there's my ten-gauge." He indicated a double-barreled shot-gun
+standing in the corner. "You'll find a couple of boxes of loaded shells
+in that<span class='pagenum'><a name="page22" id="page22">[Pg 22]</a></span> table drawer. You may want to kill some ducks in the fall. Only
+don't shoot Oso!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oso?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. My tame crow. I had a Spanish fellow with me a few weeks last
+summer, and he found the bird in a nest. Clipped one wing, so he
+couldn't get away from the island. Named him 'Oso'; said it meant 'The
+Bear.' He'll pester ye to death round the fish-house, after he gets
+acquainted."</p>
+
+<p>Putting Nemo on a leash and taking the gun, the boys filed out. Uncle
+Tom called Jim back.</p>
+
+<p>"I almost forgot to tell you to go to Parker's for your outfit. He'll
+use you right. Who's that pale-faced fellow with the tow head?"</p>
+
+<p>Spurling told him briefly about Percy. Uncle Tom grunted.</p>
+
+<p>"Needs salting, doesn't he? Well, he'll get it out there."</p>
+
+<p>Down in Parker's general store on the main street the boys purchased
+their supplies. They laid in a generous stock of provisions of all
+sorts, and under Jim's expert direction reinforced the weak spots in
+their wardrobes to adapt them to the demands of the next three months.
+Oil-clothes, heavy under-clothing, hip boots of red rubber, white,
+doughnut-shaped woolen "nippers" for pulling trawls, and various other
+articles for convenience and comfort were added to their outfits.</p>
+
+<p>Percy regarded it all in the light of a huge lark. Dressing himself in
+oilskins and rubber boots, he paraded up and down the store, much to the
+proprietor's disgust.</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty fresh, isn't he?" remarked Parker to Jim.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page23" id="page23">[Pg 23]</a></span> "After he's been out
+in two or three storms he'll find those clothes aren't so much of a
+joke."</p>
+
+<p>The party's purchases were sent down to the steamboat wharf, to be added
+to the baggage already there. The boys followed, Percy swaggering
+superciliously along after the others, with his eternal cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Nemo, towing behind Spurling on his leash, got in Percy's way,
+and the boy stepped on his foot. Nemo yelped, then growled and bristled.</p>
+
+<p>"Get out, you cur!" exclaimed Percy, launching a kick at the beast.</p>
+
+<p>"Easy, Whittington!" warned Spurling. "A dog doesn't forget. You don't
+want to make an enemy of him at the start."</p>
+
+<p>"Enemy?" sneered Percy. "What do I care for that mangy cur! It'll teach
+him to keep out of my way."</p>
+
+<p>Jim bit his lip, but said nothing. In a few minutes they were on the
+wharf.</p>
+
+<p>A wiry, dark-complexioned lad of perhaps fifteen stood near the
+steamboat slip. He wore a faded suit of blue serge, a gray-flannel shirt
+with red necker-chief, and a soft black hat. His olive face and black
+eyes bespoke the Italian. Spurling and the others glanced at him
+casually; their interest was centered on assembling and loading their
+flotilla.</p>
+
+<p>"There's the <i>Barracouta!</i>" said Jim, pointing to a sloop moored a
+hundred yards away. "And there's Stinson's pea-pod tied to her stern.
+That yellow dory up on the ledge must be Uncle Tom's. He said we'd find
+her oars and fittings at Haskell's boatshop."</p>
+
+<p>Soon pea-pod and dory were being loaded beside<span class='pagenum'><a name="page24" id="page24">[Pg 24]</a></span> the wharf. The young
+Italian had come to the string-piece, and was watching the embarkation.
+Jim saw that tears were trickling down his cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>The boy turned away, his breast heaving. Jim tossed the painter to Lane.</p>
+
+<p>"Look out for the boat a minute, Budge! I want to find what the trouble
+is with that young fellow."</p>
+
+<p>The lad had stepped across the wharf and was gazing sadly down into the
+water. Jim touched his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you feel well, son?"</p>
+
+<p>The kindly words had a surprising effect&mdash;the lad burst into tears. Jim
+tried to soothe him.</p>
+
+<p>"There, there! It can't be so bad as all that! Tell me about it."</p>
+
+<p>Little by little the boy's story came out. He was a Sicilian from a
+little village (<i>un villaggio</i>) not far from Messina. His name was
+Filippo Canamelli. His father was a mason (<i>un muratore</i>). Filippo and
+his older brother Frank had decided to seek their fortunes in America.
+Frank had gone over the year before, promising to send money back to pay
+for Filippo's passage. He had done so that winter, in <i>Febbrajo</i>.
+Filippo had sailed from Naples the next month, and had landed in New
+York in April. There he chanced upon a friend with whom his brother had
+left word for him to come to a certain address in Boston. But in that
+city he had lost all track of Frank. Searching aimlessly for him, he had
+drifted down to Stonington and had gone to work in the granite quarries.
+But he found the labor too hard and he was desperately homesick.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page25" id="page25">[Pg 25]</a></span> He had
+given up his job the day before. What he should do and where he should
+go next he did not know. He talked rapidly between his sobs, while Jim
+listened.</p>
+
+<p>When he had finished, Spurling stepped across the wharf to his waiting
+friends. Very briefly he rehearsed the Italian's story.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys," he concluded, "what do you say to asking him to come down with
+us to Tarpaulin? I believe he's a clean, straight little fellow, and he
+can more than make up for his board by cooking and doing odd jobs. We
+can afford to pay him something to boot."</p>
+
+<p>Before either Budge or Throppy had a chance to express an opinion Percy
+spoke out decidedly:</p>
+
+<p>"Take that little Dago with us? I say no. You can't trust his kind. I
+know 'em. They're a thieving, treacherous lot, smooth to your face, but
+ready to stab you the minute your back's turned. I'll bet you a
+five-dollar bill he's got a knife hid somewhere about him. He might take
+a notion some night to cut all our throats."</p>
+
+<p>"Whittington," said Spurling, bluntly, "under the circumstances it might
+be better taste for you not to speak until you've heard from the rest of
+us. My throat's worth just as much to me as yours is to you, and I don't
+feel I'd be running any great risk by inviting that boy to come along
+with us."</p>
+
+<p>Lane and Stevens agreed.</p>
+
+<p>"It's three against one, Whittington," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>He walked over to the Italian and said a few words to him. The lad's
+face lighted up with gratitude. Impulsively he bent and kissed
+Spurling's hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page26" id="page26">[Pg 26]</a></span> Jim flushed with embarrassment as he and the stranger
+came back to the others.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll be glad to go with us, fellows. Now let's get a move on and
+hustle this stuff aboard. We want to be settled at Tarpaulin before
+dark."</p>
+
+<p>Soon all their goods were on the sloop. The dory was made fast to her
+stern and the pea-pod's painter tied to the dory. The expedition was
+ready to start. On board the <i>Barracouta</i> Lane and Stevens, standing
+side by side, faced Jim and brought their palms to their foreheads.</p>
+
+<p>"Attention!" ordered Lane. "Spurling &amp; Company! Salute!"</p>
+
+<p>Jim returned the compliment with a sweep of his hand. He threw on the
+switch and rocked the wheel; the engine started&mdash;click-click-click....
+Gathering headway, the <i>Barracouta</i> nosed south, dory and pea-pod
+trailing behind her. Before them lay an archipelago of granite islands.</p>
+
+<p>"This is an old stamping-ground of mine," said Jim. "I've fished and
+lobstered round here so much that I know every rock and shoal for miles.
+That's Crotch Island on our west, with the derricks and quarries;
+they've taken no end of granite off it."</p>
+
+<p>He held up his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Breezing up from the southwest. That'd be dead ahead if we went west of
+Isle au Haut as I'd planned. Guess we'll go east of it; then we can use
+our canvas to help us along. Steer for me, Budge, while I get sail on
+her!"</p>
+
+<p>Soon outer jib, jumbo and mainsail were set and trimmed close, and
+Spurling again took the helm. The <i>Barracouta</i> ran southeast through
+Merchant's<span class='pagenum'><a name="page27" id="page27">[Pg 27]</a></span> Row, a procession of rugged islets slipping by on either
+side; then south past Fog and York islands, with the long, high ridge of
+Isle au Haut walling the western horizon; down between Great Spoon and
+Little Spoon, past White Horse and Black Horse, toward the heaving blue
+of the open ocean.</p>
+
+<p>A grum, melancholy note came floating over the long sea
+swells&mdash;Oo-oo-oo-ooh! And again, Oo-oo-oo-ooh!</p>
+
+<p>"What's that!" exclaimed Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Whistling buoy south of Roaring Bull Ledge. One of our nearest
+neighbors. We'll hear that voice pretty often, when the wind's from the
+north."</p>
+
+<p>They passed two miles east of the whistler, and gradually its warning
+blast grew fainter and fainter. On the horizon straight ahead a little
+black mound was slowly rising above the breaking waves. Jim swung his
+hand toward it.</p>
+
+<p>"There's Tarpaulin! Our home for the next three months! Looks kind of
+small and lonesome when you're running offshore for it; but it's pretty
+good to make after an all-day fishing-trip. What's the matter,
+Whittington?"</p>
+
+<p>Percy's face was somewhat white; for the last half-hour he had been
+strangely subdued.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't feel very good," said he.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling eyed him critically, then scanned the faces of the others. The
+<i>Barracouta</i> was rising and falling on the long swells in a manner
+decidedly disconcerting to weak stomachs. Stevens and the young Italian
+did not look much happier than Percy. Jim could not help smiling a
+little.</p>
+
+<p>"Good seasick weather!" he observed, judicially.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page28" id="page28">[Pg 28]</a></span> "Excuse me for
+laughing, boys! It's a mean thing to do, but I can't help it. I've been
+there myself&mdash;years ago. You'll be worse before you're better."</p>
+
+<p>They were, considerably, all three, Percy in particular. For the next
+hour conversation dragged; but all the while Tarpaulin loomed larger and
+larger. To Jim it wore the aspect of an old friend, and he dilated on
+its features for the benefit of the others.</p>
+
+<p>"You see that western end is fifty acres of pasture, sloping north;
+those gray dots are sheep grazing. The eastern half is just scrub
+evergreen. That little cove on the northeast corner's the Sly Hole; you
+mightn't think it, but a good-sized schooner can ride there at low tide.
+Pretty rocky all round. Always a surf breaking on one side or the other.
+Our landing-place is on the south."</p>
+
+<p>Before long the <i>Barracouta</i> and her tow were skirting the eastern
+ledges. Under the island it was comparatively calm, and the seasick
+three felt better. Then, as they rounded a wooded promontory and turned
+west, it grew rough again, but only for a few minutes. Spurling steered
+the sloop into calm water behind the protecting elbow of another point,
+off which lay the half-submerged hulk of a wrecked vessel.</p>
+
+<p>"Sprawl's Cove!" exclaimed Jim. "How do you like the looks of your
+hotel, Whittington?"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page29" id="page29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>III</h2>
+
+<h3>TARPAULIN ISLAND</h3>
+
+<p>Curiosity dispelled the last vestiges of Percy's seasickness. For a
+little while he gazed without speaking.</p>
+
+<p>A cove four hundred feet wide opened toward the south between two rocky
+points. At its head a pebbly beach sloped up to a sea-wall, behind which
+a growth of cattails bespoke a stagnant lagoon. Still farther back a
+steep bank of dirt rose to the overhanging sod of the pasture.</p>
+
+<p>From the western point a spur extended into the cove, forming a little
+haven amply large enough for a modest fleet of fishing-boats. Near by on
+the sea-wall stood two structures, one low, oblong, flat-roofed, with a
+rusty iron stovepipe projecting from its farther end; the other a small,
+paintless shed with a large door. Percy gave them only a casual glance.</p>
+
+<p>"You said we were going to live in a camp. Where is it?"</p>
+
+<p>Jim pointed to the first structure.</p>
+
+<p>"There! It's the cabin of an old vessel that came ashore here in a
+southerly gale years ago. Uncle Tom jacked it up a foot, put in a good
+floor, and made it into a first-rate camp. It's got bunks<span class='pagenum'><a name="page30" id="page30">[Pg 30]</a></span> for half a
+dozen, and at a pinch could hold more. The roof's a bit leaky, but we'll
+soon fix that. There's a good stove, and always plenty of driftwood on
+the beach. It's a mighty snug place on a stormy day."</p>
+
+<p>Percy turned up his nose at this list of good points.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that pile of chicken-coops near it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lobster-traps."</p>
+
+<p>"And that big box with its top just above water?"</p>
+
+<p>"A lobster-car. All that we catch in the traps we put in there until the
+smack comes."</p>
+
+<p>The mooring-buoy was now alongside. Making the <i>Barracouta</i> fast, the
+boys went ashore in the dory and pea-pod. Percy became conscious that he
+was thirsty.</p>
+
+<p>"Where can I get a drink?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's the spring at the foot of that bank."</p>
+
+<p>Opening a trap-door in a rude wooden cover, Percy looked down into a
+shallow well. The only cup at hand was an empty tin can. Rather
+disdainfully he dipped it full and tasted, then spat with a wry face.</p>
+
+<p>"It's brackish!" he called out, indignantly. "I can't drink that."</p>
+
+<p>Spurling and the others were hard at work unloading the boats. Percy
+repeated his complaint:</p>
+
+<p>"I can't drink that stuff."</p>
+
+<p>Jim was staggering up the beach, a heavy box of groceries in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry!" he replied, indifferently. "That's what all the rest of us'll
+have to drink. It isn't Poland water, but I've tasted worse."</p>
+
+<p>Percy slammed down the cover and tossed away<span class='pagenum'><a name="page31" id="page31">[Pg 31]</a></span> the can in a huff. Lane
+was passing boxes and bundles ashore from the dory to Stevens and
+Filippo.</p>
+
+<p>"Catch hold here, Whittington, and help tote some of this stuff up to
+the cabin," exhorted Budge.</p>
+
+<p>Percy complied ungraciously; but he was careful not to tackle anything
+very heavy.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't come out here to make a pack-mule of myself," was his mental
+remark.</p>
+
+<p>Jim unfastened the rusty padlock on the cabin door and stepped inside.
+Percy followed him, eager to get a glimpse of his new home.</p>
+
+<p>The camp had not been opened for some weeks; it smelled close and
+stuffy. As Percy crossed its threshold his nostrils were greeted by a
+mingled odor of salt, tarred rope, and decaying wood, flavored with a
+faint suggestion of fish. Mastering his repugnance, he looked about.</p>
+
+<p>He saw a single, low room, nine by fifteen, dimly lighted by three small
+windows, one in the farther end directly opposite the door, the
+remaining two facing each other in the middle of the long sides. Along
+the right wall on each side of the central window was built a tier of
+two bunks. On Percy's left, over a wooden sink in the corner near the
+door, was a rough cupboard. Next came a small, rusty stove with an oven
+for baking; then, under the window, an unpainted table; and on the wall
+beyond, a series of hooks from which were suspended various articles of
+clothing and coils of rope. Empty soap-boxes supplied the place of
+chairs.</p>
+
+<p>With nose uplifted and a growing disgust on his features, Percy surveyed
+the cramped, dingy room.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you like it?" asked Spurling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page32" id="page32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean to say that five of us have got to live in this hole?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nowhere else, unless you want to stay out on the beach or in the
+fish-house."</p>
+
+<p>"But where do we sleep?"</p>
+
+<p>"There!" Jim gestured toward the wooden framework on the right wall.</p>
+
+<p>Percy thrust his hand into one of the bunks.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, there's no mattress or spring here! It's only a bare box!"</p>
+
+<p>"That's just what it is, Whittington! You've hit the nail on the head
+this time. You'll have to spread your blanket on the soft side of a pine
+board. If you want something real luxurious you can go into the woods
+and cut an armful of spruce boughs to strew under you."</p>
+
+<p>Percy disregarded this badinage. From his view-point the situation was
+too serious for jesting. It was outrageous that he, the son of John P.
+Whittington, should be expected to shift for himself like an ordinary
+fisherman.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not used to living in a pigpen!" he snapped. "This cabin's too dark
+to be healthy; besides, it isn't clean."</p>
+
+<p>A spark of temper flashed in Spurling's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop right there, Whittington! This is my uncle Tom's cabin. Any place
+that's been shut up for weeks seems stuffy when it's first opened.
+You'll find that there are things a good deal worse than salt and tar
+and fish and a few cobwebs. I want to tell you a story I read some time
+ago. Once in the winter a party of Highlanders were out on a foray.
+Night overtook them beside a river in the mountains,<span class='pagenum'><a name="page33" id="page33">[Pg 33]</a></span> and they prepared
+to camp in the open. Each drenched his plaid in the stream, rolled it
+round his body, and lay down to rest in the snow, knowing that the
+outside layers of cloth would soon freeze hard and form a sleeping-bag.
+In the party were an old chieftain and his grandson of eighteen. The boy
+wet his plaid like the others, but before he lay down he rolled up a
+snowball for a pillow. The old chief kicked it out from under the lad's
+head. He didn't propose to have his grandson be so effeminate as to
+indulge himself in the luxury of a pillow when everybody else was lying
+flat on the ground."</p>
+
+<p>Whittington grunted. "I don't see how that applies to me."</p>
+
+<p>"In this way. You've lived too soft. You need something to wake you up
+to the real hardships that men have to go through. Then you won't be so
+fussy over little things. Perhaps I've talked plainer to you than I
+should; but I believe in going after a fellow with a club before his
+face rather than a knife behind his back. Now let's open those windows
+so the fresh air can blow through, build a fire in the stove to dry out
+the damp, and get everything shipshape. After supper we'll go up on top
+of the island and take a look about."</p>
+
+<p>It was nearly seven when the sloop was finally unloaded and everything
+stowed under cover. Filippo had collected plenty of driftwood, and a
+fire crackling merrily in the rusty stove soon made the cabin dry and
+warm.</p>
+
+<p>Jim, in his shirt-sleeves, superintended the preparation of supper. The
+wall cupboard yielded a supply of ordinary dishes, cups, and saucers.
+There<span class='pagenum'><a name="page34" id="page34">[Pg 34]</a></span> were old-fashioned iron knives and forks, iron spoons of
+different sizes, and thick, yellow, earthenware mugs. Despite Percy's
+slur, everything was clean.</p>
+
+<p>"Make us a pan of biscuit, Budge; and I'll fry some potatoes and broil
+the steak," volunteered Jim. "After to-night we'll have to break in
+somebody else to do the cooking. You and I'll be too busy outside."</p>
+
+<p>Percy heard and registered a silent vow that the cook should not be
+himself. Pricked by Spurling's earlier remarks, he had taken an active
+part in unloading the boats, and he had been glad to throw himself into
+one of the despised bunks to rest.</p>
+
+<p>At last supper was ready. The steak, potatoes, and hot biscuit diffused
+a pleasant aroma through the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>"Pull up your soap-boxes, all hands!" invited Spurling. "Don't be afraid
+of that steak! There's plenty of it for everybody. It's liable to be the
+last meat we'll have for some time. The butcher doesn't go by here very
+often."</p>
+
+<p>The boys made a hearty meal. Even Percy's fastidiousness did not prevent
+him from eating his full share. But he took no part in the jokes flying
+round the table. Jim's sermon had left him rather glum. Lane noticed it.</p>
+
+<p>"Why so distant, Whittington?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>Before Percy could open his mouth to reply a black body shot with a
+squawk through the open door and alighted on the corner of the table
+close to Percy's elbow.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo! This must be Oso!" exclaimed Jim.</p>
+
+<p>The crow croaked hoarsely. On Percy's plate lay<span class='pagenum'><a name="page35" id="page35">[Pg 35]</a></span> a single morsel of
+steak, the choicest of his helping, reserved till the last. Seeing the
+bird's beady black eyes fasten upon it he made a quick movement to
+impale it with his fork. But Oso was quicker still. Down darted his
+sharp beak and snatched the titbit from under the very points of the
+tines. A single gulp and the meat was gone.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image3.jpg" width="320" height="239" alt="image3" title="Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p>A roar of laughter went round the table. Starting up furiously, Percy
+aimed a blow at the crow. But the bird eluded him and scaled out of the
+door with a triumphant screech. Budge proffered mock consolation.</p>
+
+<p>"Percy," said he, "that was the best piece in the whole steak. I saw you
+saving it until the last. Too bad, old man! Now you'll have to eat crow
+to get it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page36" id="page36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'll wring that thief's neck if I can catch him," vowed the angry
+Whittington.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess we can trust Oso not to leave his neck lying round where you can
+get hold of it," observed Lane. "Come on! Let's you and I wash the
+dishes!"</p>
+
+<p>"Dishes nothing!" snarled Percy.</p>
+
+<p>Stalking out, he gathered a handful of convenient pebbles and lay in
+wait for the culprit. But the crow had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll get even with him later," muttered Whittington.</p>
+
+<p>He remained sulkily outside, taking no part in clearing away the
+supper-table. At half past seven the others joined him.</p>
+
+<p>"Feeling better, old man?" queried Lane, solicitously.</p>
+
+<p>"Fall in, Whittington," said Jim. "We're going on a tour of inspection."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute," remarked Lane. "We've had our house-warming. The next
+thing is to christen the place."</p>
+
+<p>Dragging out a soap-box, he mounted it, produced from his pocket a piece
+of red chalk, and traced in large letters over the door, "<span class="smcap">Camp
+Spurling.</span>"</p>
+
+<p>"Now we're off!" said he. "Welcome to our city! Watch us grow!"</p>
+
+<p>"Come on!" urged Jim. "We want to look the island over before dark."</p>
+
+<p>The party walked west along the sea-wall and proceeded in single file up
+a steep path to the highest part of the promontory.</p>
+
+<p>"Brimstone Point," said Jim. "Best view on the island from here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page37" id="page37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He began pointing out its different features.</p>
+
+<p>"That little nubble almost west, sticking up so black against the
+sunset's Seal Island. Matinicus is right behind it. Up there on the
+horizon, just a trifle west of north, are the Camden Hills; you look
+exactly over Vinalhaven to see them. North across the pasture is Isle au
+Haut that we came by this afternoon. Beyond is Stonington. About time
+the lights were lit&mdash;Yes, there's Saddleback! See it twinkling west of
+Isle au Haut. Now look sharp a little south of west and you'll see
+Matinicus Rock glimmering; two lights, but they seem like one from here.
+Wouldn't think they were almost a hundred feet above water, would you?
+They look pretty good to a man when he's running in from outside on a
+dark night."</p>
+
+<p>It was a magnificent evening, the air clear as crystal, the sky without
+a cloud. Gulls were wheeling and screaming about the promontory, their
+cries mingling with the rote of surf at its base. Sheep bleated from the
+pasture. A hawk sailed slowly in from the ocean and disappeared in the
+woods behind the eastern point. From under the boys' feet rose the
+fragrance of sweet grass and pennyroyal. Tall mullein stalks reared
+their spires on the hillside; and here and there were little plats white
+with thick strawberry blossoms.</p>
+
+<p>The boys gazed their fill. Gradually the red sky darkened and the stars
+began to come out. Saddleback and Matinicus Rock gleamed more brightly.
+A cool breeze from the south sprang up. Jim roused himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess we won't have time to look about any more<span class='pagenum'><a name="page38" id="page38">[Pg 38]</a></span> to-night. Never mind!
+There are evenings enough ahead of us before September. One thing out
+here&mdash;no matter how hot the day may be, it's always cool after dark.
+Let's be getting back to camp!"</p>
+
+<p>Two small kerosene-lamps from the cupboard made the cabin seem actually
+cheerful. Percy dug into one of his suit-cases and produced a pack of
+cards.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's have a game, fellows! What shall it be?"</p>
+
+<p>"Might as well put those up, Whittington," said Spurling. "We're going
+to turn in as soon as we get things arranged. We've a busy to-morrow
+before us."</p>
+
+<p>Somewhat disappointed, Percy put the cards back. Taking four wooden
+toothpicks, Jim broke them into uneven lengths. He grasped them in his
+right hand so that the tops formed a straight line.</p>
+
+<p>"Now we'll draw lots for bunks! Filippo's going to sleep in the hammock
+across that corner beyond the table, so he won't be in this. Longest
+stick is lower bunk next the door; second longest, lower bunk back;
+third, upper bunk near door; shortest, other upper. Draw, Throppy!"</p>
+
+<p>Stevens drew; then Budge and Percy followed him. They matched sticks.
+Percy got the lower near the door, with Budge over him; while Spurling
+drew the back lower, and Stevens the one above that.</p>
+
+<p>"Percy and I are the lucky ones," said Jim. "We can try this a month,
+then have a shake-up to give you top men a chance nearer the floor."</p>
+
+<p>Percy pulled out his wrappers and tobacco. Spurling nipped his
+preparations in the bud.</p>
+
+<p>"No cigarettes in here!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page39" id="page39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Can't I smoke just one?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not inside this cabin. It's too close. We might as well make that a
+permanent rule."</p>
+
+<p>"All right! You're the doctor! But I thought it might help kill this
+smell of tarred rope."</p>
+
+<p>"I like the tarred rope better than I do the cigarettes."</p>
+
+<p>Percy went outside and burned his coffin-nail unsociably. When he came
+back the cabin was shipshape for the night. Jim was setting the
+alarm-clock. Percy, watching him, thought he detected a mistake.</p>
+
+<p>"You've got the V on the wrong side of the I," he said. "IV doesn't
+stand for six."</p>
+
+<p>"But I didn't mean six," retorted Spurling. "I meant four. Now you see
+why we haven't any time for card-playing. And as soon as we're really at
+work we'll be getting up a good deal earlier than that. Turn in,
+fellows!"</p>
+
+<p>He extinguished one of the small lamps.</p>
+
+<p>"You can put out the other one, when you're ready," said he as he crept
+into his bunk.</p>
+
+<p>Following the example of his associates, Percy draped his clothing over
+his soap-box and the lower end of his bunk, then blew out the lamp and
+turned in, barking his shins as he did so. He found his couch anything
+but comfortable. A single blanket between one's body and a board does
+not make the board much softer. Neither is a tightly rolled sweater an
+exact equivalent for a feather pillow. Further, the comforter over him
+was none too warm, as two windows, opened for ventilation, allowed the
+cool ocean breeze to circulate freely through the cabin.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page40" id="page40">[Pg 40]</a></span> They also
+admitted numerous mosquitoes, which sung and stung industriously.</p>
+
+<p>The hours of darkness dragged on miserably. Percy dozed and woke, only
+to doze and wake again. An occasional creaking board or muttered
+exclamation told that, like himself, his mates were not finding their
+first night one of unalloyed comfort.</p>
+
+<p>Bare feet struck the floor. A match scraped, and Percy saw Jim gazing at
+the alarm-clock.</p>
+
+<p>"What time is it?" groaned Budge from above.</p>
+
+<p>"Only ten minutes to twelve."</p>
+
+<p>"Gee! I wish it was morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Me too!" complained Stevens from the darkness aloft.</p>
+
+<p>Percy echoed the wish, silently but fervently. And then in an instant
+all their discomfort was forgotten. Bursting through the open window, a
+sudden sound shattered the midnight stillness.</p>
+
+<p><i>Spang!</i></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page41" id="page41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>IV</h2>
+
+<h3>MIDNIGHT MARAUDERS</h3>
+
+<p>There was no mistaking that sharp, whip-like report. It was the crack of
+a revolver!</p>
+
+<p>Breaking the silence at a time when they had felt certain that the
+nearest human being was miles away, the sound had a startling effect on
+the five boys. Not one but felt a thrill of apprehension, almost of
+dread. Who besides themselves was astir at so late an hour on that
+lonely island? Why? The weapon that produced the report must have been
+aimed at something. What? For a moment they remained silent, breathless.</p>
+
+<p><i>Spang!</i></p>
+
+<p>A second shot, distant but distinct, rang out from beyond the brow of
+the bank behind the cabin. Spurling sprang from his bunk.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys!" he shouted. "Somebody's after those sheep! Turn out!"</p>
+
+<p>Hurriedly he began dressing. The other four followed his example,
+fumbling with clumsy fingers in the darkness. Nemo gave a short, sharp
+bark.</p>
+
+<p>"Quiet, boy!" ordered Jim; and the dog subsided, growling.</p>
+
+<p>Percy experienced a peculiar shakiness; but he dressed with the others.
+Out here were no police<span class='pagenum'><a name="page42" id="page42">[Pg 42]</a></span>men or other officers to enforce the laws.
+Whatever was done they must do themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Jim, his first excitement over, was cool as usual.</p>
+
+<p>"All dressed, fellows?" he inquired, as calmly as if the pursuit of
+midnight thieves was a common incident.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody was ready.</p>
+
+<p>"Going to take the dog?" asked Throppy.</p>
+
+<p>"No! Leave him here! He might bark when we didn't want him to."</p>
+
+<p>"Here's the gun!" volunteered Lane.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't want it! If we had it with us, we might lose our heads and shoot
+somebody. Whoever they are, they haven't the least idea there's any one
+on the island besides themselves. They've probably landed at the Sly
+Hole from some vessel that's approached the north shore since it came
+dark. Hungry for a little lamb or mutton! But those sheep have stood
+Uncle Tom a good many dollars and he can't afford to lose any of 'em.
+Where's that flash-light?"</p>
+
+<p>"Here 'tis!" said Budge, passing him the electric lantern.</p>
+
+<p>Jim snapped it quickly on and off again.</p>
+
+<p>"Righto!" was his verdict. "All ready? Then come on! But first tie that
+dog to the stove-leg, so he won't bolt out the second we open the door."</p>
+
+<p>Throppy fastened Nemo.</p>
+
+<p>"Quiet now!" cautioned Jim.</p>
+
+<p>He opened the door carefully, and the five filed out into damp, cool,
+midnight air.</p>
+
+<p>Stars filled the sky. A gentle wind was blowing from the southwest.
+Nothing broke the stillness<span class='pagenum'><a name="page43" id="page43">[Pg 43]</a></span> save the low murmur of the sea on the
+ledges. Without hesitation Jim led his party at a dog-trot eastward
+along the beach. When he reached the rocks he halted.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll go straight across to the Sly Hole," he said. "I know a short cut
+through the woods. Either they've killed a sheep already and are
+carrying it down to their boat or they've frightened the animals so that
+it'll take some time to get near enough to 'em again to shoot. What
+sticks me is why they don't use a shot-gun instead of a revolver. Now,
+boys! Right up over the rocks!"</p>
+
+<p>It was a rough climb, but soon they were on the top of the bluff.
+Unerringly Jim led them to the entrance of a narrow trail penetrating
+the scrubby growth.</p>
+
+<p>"Look out for your eyes! Don't follow too close!"</p>
+
+<p>The pliant, whipping branches emphasized his caution. By the time the
+party gained the north shore their hands and faces were badly scratched.</p>
+
+<p>The little basin of the Sly Hole lay below. Looking down, they could
+make out a dark object at the water's edge.</p>
+
+<p>"There's their boat!" whispered Jim. "They're still on the island."</p>
+
+<p><i>Spang!</i></p>
+
+<p>Another report from the pasture beyond the evergreens echoed emphatic
+confirmation to his statement. Jim took two steps toward the sound, then
+stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet! I know a better way. Stay here and keep watch."</p>
+
+<p>He scrambled down to the beach. There was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="page44" id="page44">[Pg 44]</a></span> slight grating of gravel,
+and presently the boat was afloat. Noiselessly, under Spurling's skilful
+sculling, it slipped out of the cove and vanished behind the ledges to
+the east. Before long Jim was back with his companions.</p>
+
+<p>"I've made their dory fast in a little gulch among the rockweed," said
+he. "They'd have a hard time to find it unless somebody told 'em where
+it is. They can't get away without having a reckoning with us."</p>
+
+<p><i>Spang-spang-spang!</i></p>
+
+<p>Three reports in quick succession. Jim laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Wasting a lot of cartridges! Must want that mutton pretty bad! Either
+they're awful poor shots or they've made the sheep so wild they can't
+get anywhere near 'em. There's their vessel!"</p>
+
+<p>The boys' eyes followed his pointing finger. Not far offshore were the
+vague outlines of a schooner.</p>
+
+<p>"All black!" said Jim. "Not a light of any sort! That looks bad. Besides
+being against the law, it shows there's some reason why they don't want
+to be recognized. I don't know what kind of scalawags we're up against,
+but we've got to be mighty careful."</p>
+
+<p>Percy felt a strange sinking at the pit of his stomach. To be plunged
+into an encounter with a gang of unknown ruffians on his first night
+offshore was more than he had bargained for. For a minute Jim stood
+thinking.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm almost sorry we didn't take that shot-gun!" he muttered. "No, I'm
+not, either! We might be tempted to use it, and that'd be worse than
+losing every sheep on the island. Hold on! I've got an idea."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page45" id="page45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The boys gathered closely round him.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen!" he whispered. "Budge and I will go ahead through the woods to
+the pasture. You three follow close behind. If there's any shooting,
+throw yourselves flat. No use taking chances with such fellows as
+those!"</p>
+
+<p>Crouching low, sometimes actually creeping, the party, Jim and Lane in
+the lead, made their way under the close boughs toward the open.
+Suddenly Jim sank to the ground. Warned by his whisper, the others did
+the same.</p>
+
+<p>Footsteps were approaching. Then voices in heated argument reached their
+ears.</p>
+
+<p>"Aw, come on, Cap!" expostulated one unseen speaker. "What's the use
+chasin' round over this pasture all night? Here we've wasted an hour
+already. I've fired away all my cartridges, and we haven't nailed a
+single bleater. We've got 'em so wild we can't sneak up within half a
+mile of 'em. Let's quit it for a bad job, go aboard, and turn in!"</p>
+
+<p>"Cut it out, Dolph!" impatiently retorted another voice. "You've got a
+backbone like a rope! Guess if you were footing the grub bill aboard the
+<i>Silicon</i> you wouldn't be so fussy about being broken of your beauty
+sleep. I've paid out all the good dollars for stores that I intend to on
+this trip. You know we've plenty of ice aboard, and a couple of these
+sheep'll furnish enough fresh meat to last us to the Bay of Fundy and
+back. That ought to hit you in a tender spot. You're always the first
+man down at the table and the last to leave it."</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't twit me on my appetite, Bart Brittler!" exclaimed the
+other, angrily. "If you weren't<span class='pagenum'><a name="page46" id="page46">[Pg 46]</a></span> so stingy with the grub on board your
+old catamaran I wouldn't be hungry all the time. A man who makes as much
+money as you do, runnin' in&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Stop right there! You know there's some things that were never to be
+mentioned."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the harm? There's nobody within miles!"</p>
+
+<p>"That may be. But we can't be too careful in our business. Now what
+about the sheep?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll stop here half an hour longer. Then I'm goin' aboard."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll tell you what we'll do. You hide in the edge of the woods,
+and I'll make a circuit and drive 'em down to you. Here, take these
+cartridges and my revolver! That'll give you two to work with. You'll
+have to shoot quick when they come."</p>
+
+<p>There was a sound of breaking branches. The boys flattened themselves on
+the carpet of needles as a man's body crashed toward them through the
+underbrush.</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" announced Dolph. "I've found a good place, close to a
+sheep-path. Now drive down your mutton, and I'll butcher it as it goes
+by. Will two be enough?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure! And that's two more than I'm afraid you'll get, unless you shoot
+straighter than we've done so far to-night. It may be twenty minutes
+before they come, for I'm going to make a wide circle to the west, so as
+to get behind 'em."</p>
+
+<p>The captain's footsteps died hollowly away on the turf and Dolph settled
+himself comfortably in his chosen ambush, almost within reach of Jim's
+hand. Five minutes of silence passed. Jim was debating<span class='pagenum'><a name="page47" id="page47">[Pg 47]</a></span> what he should
+do. Budge lay close to him, and not far back were Throppy, Percy, and
+Filippo, hardly daring to breathe. Circumstances had placed one of the
+marauders so nearly within their grasp that a sudden, well-planned
+attack could hardly fail to make him their prisoner. But there must be
+no bungling. A man with two loaded revolvers, and desperate from panic,
+would be a dangerous customer unless he were overpowered at once.</p>
+
+<p>It would not do to let too much time go by. Brittler would soon be
+returning, driving the sheep ahead of him; then they would have two
+lawless men to contend with, instead of one, unless they chose to be
+quiet and tamely allow the spoilers to make off with their booty.</p>
+
+<p>Jim came to his decision like the snapping of the jaws of a steel trap.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching back, he pressed Budge's hand, as a signal for him to be ready.
+Budge returned the pressure. Dolph stirred and drew a long breath. There
+was a moment of suspense. Overhead, a crow cawed harshly.</p>
+
+<p>Noiselessly Jim rose to his hands and knees and crept forward. The small
+twigs and needles, crackling under his weight, sounded in his ears like
+exploding fireworks. He stopped; went on again; stopped; went on again.
+How could Dolph fail to hear him coming? The distance was less than two
+yards, but to the crawling lad it seemed far longer.</p>
+
+<p>Now he was close behind the unconscious bandit. He straightened up,
+setting his right foot squarely on the ground. As he did so a little
+branch snapped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page48" id="page48">[Pg 48]</a></span> Dolph, startled, turned his head. Before he could lift
+a finger Jim was upon him like a panther.</p>
+
+<p>There was an indistinct cry of alarm.</p>
+
+<p><i>Spang!</i></p>
+
+<p>Off went a revolver, discharged at random, and the two were struggling
+in a confused heap under the low boughs.</p>
+
+<p>It was a short fight. A third figure launched itself into the m&ecirc;l&eacute;e.
+Though not nearly so strong as Jim, Budge alone would have been a good
+match for any average man, and the two of them together speedily
+vanquished Dolph. A firm hand was pressed over his mouth and he was
+relieved of his automatics. Finding that his captors were not disposed
+to injure him, he soon ceased his struggles.</p>
+
+<p>Silence again. One of the would-be plunderers and the weapons of both
+were in the boys' hands. What should they do next?</p>
+
+<p>"Hi! Hi! Scat, you brutes! Get a move on!"</p>
+
+<p>Brittler's voice shattered the midnight stillness as he came, driving
+the sheep before him. From their covert the boys could look across the
+pasture and see the black, leaping shapes fast drawing nearer. It was
+high time to prepare to meet their second foe.</p>
+
+<p>"Throppy, Whittington, Filippo! Come here! Quick!"</p>
+
+<p>They came, Percy in the rear, his knees shaking.</p>
+
+<p>"Budge, can the four of you handle this man if I let go?"</p>
+
+<p>"Easy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Keep his mouth shut till I tell you he can open it!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page49" id="page49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"All right!"</p>
+
+<p>Lane's hand replaced Jim's over Dolph's lips. The other three grasped
+him wherever they could find a chance. It would not have taken much to
+shake off Percy's trembling grip, but the prisoner was content to remain
+quiet.</p>
+
+<p>There was a patter of hoofs; the sheep were coming. Soon they were
+flitting by the ambush, shying off as their keen senses warned them of
+possible danger. Again they scattered toward the northwest end of the
+island. After them danced Brittler, roaring with anger.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you waiting for, you numskull?" he cried. "Why didn't you
+shoot? I heard you fire once some minutes ago, and thought you might
+have been aiming at a stray one. I had almost the whole flock bunched
+right before me. You couldn't get a better chance if you waited a week.
+Now I've got to waste another half-hour chasing 'em round again. What's
+the matter with you, anyway? Why don't you speak?"</p>
+
+<p>He was within five yards of the silent group under the spruces when
+Spurling's voice rang sharply out:</p>
+
+<p>"Halt there!"</p>
+
+<p>At the same instant he flashed the ray from his electric lantern
+straight into the captain's face.</p>
+
+<p>Brittler stopped short, as if struck by lightning. His jaw dropped, and
+a ludicrous look of alarm and bewilderment overspread his features.</p>
+
+<p>"Take your hand off his mouth, Budge," ordered Jim, "and let him tell
+the captain what's happened."</p>
+
+<p>Thus adjured, Dolph spoke:<span class='pagenum'><a name="page50" id="page50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I've been taken prisoner, Captain. They jumped on me in the dark and I
+had a chance to fire only one shot. I think there's at least half a
+dozen of 'em, and they've got both our revolvers, so we haven't a
+chance. That's all there is to it."</p>
+
+<p>Brittler had recovered from his first panic. He bristled up with
+pretended indignation.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, whoever you are, by jumping on us this way? And take
+that light off my face! I don't like it."</p>
+
+<p>Spurting did not remove the steady ray from the features of the irate
+captain. He waited a moment before replying.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain Brittler," he said, "you and Dolph came to steal sheep, and it
+isn't your fault that you haven't been able to do it. You thought there
+was nobody on this island and that you could kill and take to suit
+yourselves. You've been caught red-handed. By good rights you ought to
+be turned over to the sheriff. We'll let you go this time, but if we
+catch you here on such an errand again you'll have a chance to tell your
+story before a jury."</p>
+
+<p>"How'd you come to know my name?" blustered the captain. "I s'pose
+you've been pumping that mealy-mouthed landlubber of a Dolph."</p>
+
+<p>"Dolph hasn't said a word till he spoke to you just now. He couldn't. I
+guess we understand each other, so you and he had better start for the
+<i>Silicon</i>. You'll find your dory in the rockweed about fifty feet east
+of the cove. I'll keep your revolvers a few days, and then mail them to
+you at the Rockland post-office. You can get 'em there. Better go now!
+Turn that man loose, Budge!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page51" id="page51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Muttering vengeance, Dolph and the captain disappeared in the direction
+of the Sly Hole. After giving them ample time to find the dory, the boys
+quietly made their way to the north shore.</p>
+
+<p>A boat with two men was visible, rowing out to the <i>Silicon</i>. As soon as
+it reached its destination the schooner got under way and proceeded
+eastward.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like the looks of that craft," said Spurling. "There's
+something suspicious about her. Did you hear what Dolph said to the
+captain about making money? They're engaged in some kind of smuggling,
+or I'll eat my hat! But what it can be I haven't any idea. Well, we're
+lucky to be rid of 'em so easily. Guess they'll give Tarpaulin Island a
+wide berth after this. And it's dollars to doughnuts the captain never
+inquires after those revolvers at the Rockland office. I didn't feel it
+was quite safe to give 'em back to him just now, but I didn't want to
+take 'em away for good. He can do as he pleases about sending for 'em."</p>
+
+<p>He yawned.</p>
+
+<p>"It's past one, and we'd better be getting back to camp, or we won't be
+in condition for our busy day to-morrow. Come on, boys!"</p>
+
+<p>Slowly, and a trifle weariedly, the five made their way across the
+island. Even though the fire in the stove had gone out long since, the
+warmth of the cabin felt good to them.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Whittington," remarked Spurling as they once more crept into
+their bunks, "how do you like your first night on Tarpaulin? Some life
+out here, after all, eh?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page52" id="page52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Percy had recovered his assurance. Now that the experience was over he
+rather enjoyed it.</p>
+
+<p>"Not so bad," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>Before he went to sleep he lay for some time thinking.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page53" id="page53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>V</h2>
+
+<h3>GETTING READY</h3>
+
+<p>A persistent metallic whirring broke rudely in upon the dreams of the
+heavy sleepers in Camp Spurling. It was four o'clock. It seemed to Percy
+as if he had never before found so much trouble in getting his eyes
+open.</p>
+
+<p>"Choke that clock off, somebody!" shouted Lane from overhead. "I'm not
+deaf, but I shall be if this hullabaloo keeps on much longer."</p>
+
+<p>Spurling, who was already half-dressed, checked the alarm. The red rays
+of the morning sun, striking through the eastern window, bathed
+everything in crimson. The minds of the boys turned naturally to the
+foiled thieves.</p>
+
+<p>"Where do you think the <i>Silicon</i> is?" asked Throppy.</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty-five miles east, and making for Fundy as fast as sail and
+gasolene'll take her," replied Jim. "She can't go any too far or fast
+to suit me."</p>
+
+<p>A hearty breakfast of fried bacon, hot biscuits, and coffee made the
+drowsy crowd feel better.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said Spurling, "we've got a big day's work ahead of us, and the
+sooner we start on it the better. We want to begin as quick as we can to
+round up some of those dollars that are finning and crawling<span class='pagenum'><a name="page54" id="page54">[Pg 54]</a></span> in to us,
+so we mustn't waste any time in getting our trawls and traps overboard.
+First of all, we need bait. We can buy hake heads for our lobster-traps
+from the fish-wharf at Matinicus, and herring for the trawls from one of
+the weirs at Vinalhaven. That means traveling over forty miles; but it's
+fine weather, and we ought to do it easily. Besides, it'll give you
+fellows a good chance to learn how to handle a power-sloop. We'll take
+the trawls with us, and bait 'em on the way back, so as not to lose any
+time; and we'll set most of those lobster-traps this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>They all went over to the fish-house, and Jim swung the door wide open.
+Five great hogsheads inside caught Percy's eye.</p>
+
+<p>"What're those for?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Holding fish. Each one'll take care of what two thousand pounds of
+round fish'll make after they're dressed and salted."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by round fish?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just as they come out of the water, before they're cleaned."</p>
+
+<p>"What're those half-barrels, full of small rope?"</p>
+
+<p>"Trawl-tubs; and those coils inside are the trawls. Each tub holds about
+five hundred fathoms of ground-line, with a thirty-eight-inch ganging,
+or short line with a hook on its end, tied every five feet; so there're
+between five hundred and six hundred hooks to every tub. One man alone
+can bait and handle four tubs of trawl. Two of us are going to fish
+together, so we ought to be able to swing six tubs without any trouble."</p>
+
+<p>Percy looked about the house. Other barrels<span class='pagenum'><a name="page55" id="page55">[Pg 55]</a></span> stood there; a net was
+draped over the beams; many coils of small rope were hung along the
+walls or piled on the floor. His attention was attracted by a large heap
+of peculiarly shaped pieces of wood. Each was eighteen inches long, five
+inches square at one end, and tapered almost to a point at the other,
+near which a hole was bored; they were painted white, encircled by a
+single green stripe, and bore the brand "SP."</p>
+
+<p>"Cedar lobster-buoys," said Jim. "SP's my Uncle Tom's brand. Every man
+has a different kind, so his floats won't get mixed with anybody else's.
+Now let's take these tubs of trawl aboard the sloop."</p>
+
+<p>At six the <i>Barracouta</i>, carrying the five boys and towing the dory,
+started from Sprowl's Cove for Matinicus. It was so calm that the sails
+were of little assistance, and they had to depend almost entirely on the
+engine. Rounding Brimstone Point, they headed slightly north of west for
+Seal Island, about six miles away.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody took his turn at steering, Jim acting as instructor.</p>
+
+<p>"Any one of you may be called on to handle this boat alone some time in
+the next three months, and you can't begin learning how any too early."</p>
+
+<p>Percy's experience with automobiles stood him in good stead. He was
+naturally interested in machinery, and soon mastered the details of the
+<i>Barracouta's</i> engine. The others also showed themselves apt pupils.</p>
+
+<p>At half past seven the high cliffs of Seal Island lay to the north.
+Passing for a mile along its rocky<span class='pagenum'><a name="page56" id="page56">[Pg 56]</a></span> shores, they kept on toward
+Matinicus, now rising into view. Jim pointed to a breaker a little south
+of their course.</p>
+
+<p>"Malcolm's Ledges! A bad bunch of rocks. Years ago a fishing-schooner
+struck there in the night. Crew thought at first they'd reached safety,
+but they soon found it was only a half-tide ledge. The vessel heaved
+over it when the water rose, and sunk, so that only her topmast stuck
+out. One man, the sole survivor, hung to that. He was taken off in the
+morning, but his arm was worn almost to the bone by the swaying of the
+mast."</p>
+
+<p>Farther on they passed the long, treeless, granite hump of Wooden Ball,
+with its few lobstering-shacks, and sheep grazing in its grassy valleys.
+Ledge after ledge went by, until at last they entered the little rocky
+haven of Matinicus, crammed with moored sloops and power-boats, and ran
+in beside the high, granite fish-pier at its head.</p>
+
+<p>Percy found everything new and strange&mdash;the stilted wharves on the
+ledges, heaped with lobster-traps and festooned with buoys of all shapes
+and colors; the fish-pier with its open shed, sheltering the dark,
+discolored hogsheads rounded up with salted fish; the men in oilskin
+"petticoats," busy with splitting-knives on hake and cod and pollock and
+haddock, brought in by the noisy power-boats; the lighthouse-keepers
+from Matinicus Rock, five miles south, in military caps, oilskins, and
+red rubber boots, towing a dory to be dumped full of slimy hake heads
+for lobster bait; the post-office and general store above the cove, and
+the spruce-crowned rocks beyond it.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image4.jpg" width="320" height="459" alt="image4" title="Illustration" />
+<p class="caption" style="font-size: smaller; text-align: center">THE CAMP AT SPROWL'S COVE</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page57" id="page57">[Pg 57]</a></span>Jim pointed out a bronze tablet on a slanting ledge.</p>
+
+<p>"In memory of Ebenezer Hall, first English settler on Matinicus. He
+lived with his family in a log house at the head of this cove. In 1757
+some Indians were camped on one of the Green Islands, six miles or so
+northwest, living on the eggs of seabirds. Hall went over to the island
+one day and set fire to the grass, destroying the nests and eggs. Next
+morning five Indians in two canoes came over to Matinicus to take
+revenge. They landed on this beach, built a fire, and began cooking
+their breakfast. Hall had barricaded himself indoors, but he could put
+his head up through a little lookout in the top of his cabin. He wanted
+to shoot the Indians, but his wife wouldn't let him. After they had
+eaten they scattered and opened fire on the house from different points.
+Hall replied. Finally the Indians were reduced to their last
+half-bullet. One of them lay flat in that little hollow, while the
+others pretended to launch their canoes. Hall stuck his head up through
+the lookout to see what was going on, and the ambushed Indian sent the
+half-bullet through his brain. He dropped back inside. They wouldn't
+have known he was hit if his wife hadn't cried out for quarter. They
+burst open the door and carried her off, with her daughter and one son.
+Another boy escaped out of a back window and hid in the swamp, and they
+couldn't find him. Afterward he settled on an island close to
+Vinalhaven, where Heron's Neck Light is now."</p>
+
+<p>"Hall had better not have burned that grass," said Percy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page58" id="page58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied Jim. "If he had minded his own business and let the
+Indians alone he wouldn't have stopped that last half-bullet."</p>
+
+<p>The fish-pier was in charge of a superintendent, employed by a large
+Gloucester concern. Jim arranged to sell here whatever fish they might
+catch during the summer. He also bought several bushels of salt, as well
+as two barrels of hake heads to start them in lobstering. The
+<i>Barracouta's</i> tank was filled with twenty-five gallons of gasolene, and
+six five-gallon cans were purchased besides. The boat would require
+about seven gallons a day for ordinary fishing, so this would supply
+them for more than a week.</p>
+
+<p>"How often do you get the mail?" asked Jim of the storekeeper, who was
+also postmaster.</p>
+
+<p>"Three times a week by steamer from Rockland&mdash;Tuesdays, Thursdays, and
+Fridays."</p>
+
+<p>As Spurling had decided to bring his fish over every Friday, they would
+thus be enabled to keep in fairly close touch with the outside world.
+Percy, however, was somewhat disgusted. He had gotten into the habit of
+thinking he could not live without a daily paper. While the others were
+purchasing various supplies, including some mosquito netting, he
+replenished his stock of cigarettes.</p>
+
+<p>"Anybody here got a wireless?" inquired Throppy.</p>
+
+<p>"No, but there's one on Criehaven, three miles south."</p>
+
+<p>Throppy had planned to install an outfit on Tarpaulin, and had already
+written home to have his plant there dismantled by his brother, and its
+parts<span class='pagenum'><a name="page59" id="page59">[Pg 59]</a></span> forwarded by express to Matinicus. For an amateur he was an
+expert operator.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Barracouta</i> was already well loaded when, with the dory towing
+behind, she rounded the granite breakwater and started for Vinalhaven,
+twelve miles away. At noon they ran in alongside Hardy's weir on the
+eastern shore of the island. Several bushels of glittering herring were
+dipped aboard, and the heavily freighted sloop at once swung away on her
+fifteen-mile jaunt to Tarpaulin.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said Jim, as soon as they were well clear of the island, "I'll
+teach you how to bait up. Take the tiller, Filippo."</p>
+
+<p>Emptying out the ground-line from one of the tubs, he took a small
+herring in his left hand, and with his right grasped the shank of the
+hook on the first ganging; he forced the sharp point into the fish until
+the barb had gone clean through and the herring was impaled firmly. Then
+he dropped the hook into the empty tub, giving the ganging a deft swing,
+so that it fell in a smooth coil. He repeated the process swiftly, while
+the others watched him with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"How many hooks can you bait in a minute?" asked Budge.</p>
+
+<p>"Time me."</p>
+
+<p>Budge followed the second-hand of his watch while the coil in the tub
+grew larger.</p>
+
+<p>"Better than ten a minute," he announced. "That's going some."</p>
+
+<p>"It's slow to what some fishermen can do. It means about an hour to a
+tub. Catch hold, you fellows, and see how fast you can do it. Might as
+well<span class='pagenum'><a name="page60" id="page60">[Pg 60]</a></span> make a beginning. You'll have plenty of experience before the
+summer's ended. I'll take her awhile, Filippo."</p>
+
+<p>The other boys, Percy included, were soon hard at work, each on his own
+tub. At first they made a slow, awkward business of it. Impatient
+exclamations rose as the sharp hooks were stuck into clumsy fingers.
+Finally Percy threw down his trawl in a fit of anger.</p>
+
+<p>"I've had enough of this! I didn't come out here to butcher myself."</p>
+
+<p>"You can steer," said Jim, quietly. "I'll take your place."</p>
+
+<p>Percy stepped to the helm, and Jim began baiting again. The others stuck
+to their unfamiliar task, despite its discouragements, and were soon
+making fair headway. Percy eyed them sulkily. His pricked fingers
+smarted. The boat rolled and pitched on the old swell, making him a
+trifle seasick. A wave of disgust swept over him. This was no place for
+the son of a millionaire. He wished himself back on the land.</p>
+
+<p>By the time they reached Tarpaulin, at about half past four, all the six
+trawls were baited.</p>
+
+<p>"We won't set them till day after to-morrow," determined Jim. "Guess we
+can find enough work to keep us busy ashore till then."</p>
+
+<p>There was no doubt about that. Until supper-time various odd jobs kept
+everybody occupied. Most important of all, the mosquito netting was cut
+and tacked over the three windows.</p>
+
+<p>"Now we can have plenty of fresh air with the mosquitoes strained out of
+it," said Jim.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page61" id="page61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Boughs of spruce and fir were brought from the woods and strewn in the
+bunks under the blankets. That night the boys turned in early and slept
+like the dead. Even Percy could find little fault with his pillow and
+mattress of fragrant needles.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning he took a swim. The water was too cold for comfort, and
+inadvertently he ran into a school of jellyfish, from which he emerged
+feeling as if he were on fire all over. He dressed hurriedly, shivering
+and disgruntled. The novelty of Tarpaulin was wearing off, and he hoped
+heartily that he would soon be in a more interesting place. A month
+there would drag horribly.</p>
+
+<p>That forenoon the inside of the cabin was put to rights. The spring was
+cleaned out and stoned up. Under Jim's direction the boys gathered a
+heap of driftwood and dragged it up to the highest part of Brimstone
+Point. There a beacon was built, and kindling placed beneath it.</p>
+
+<p>"That'll serve as a lighthouse in case any of us get caught out at night
+and lose our way," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>The remainder of the morning was spent in fitting up the lobster-traps
+with warps, toggles, and buoys.</p>
+
+<p>During dinner the summer's work was discussed and the boys were allotted
+their respective duties. To Jim fell naturally the oversight of the
+fishing and lobstering. Lane was to receive and disburse all moneys, and
+have general charge of the business matters of the concern. Throppy,
+because of his mechanical and inventive turn of mind, was intrusted with
+the duty of seeing that the cabin, the boats, and all the gear were kept
+in first-class shape.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page62" id="page62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Now," concluded Jim, "so far the most important position of all has
+gone begging. Who'll be cook? Whittington, it lies between you and
+Filippo."</p>
+
+<p>"You can strike my name from the ballot at the go-off," stated Percy,
+promptly. "I never even boiled an egg in my life, and I don't intend to
+begin now."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image5.jpg" width="320" height="198" alt="image5" title="Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"That narrows it down to Filippo," said Jim. "What do you say? Will you
+cook for us?"</p>
+
+<p>The Italian's melancholy olive face lighted up with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Si, si!</i>" he exclaimed, gladly. "I will cook."</p>
+
+<p>"Good enough! You're elected, then! We'll all tell you everything we
+know. Here's an old cook-book on the shelf, and well teach you the
+recipes. That leaves Whittington for general-utility man. He'll be our
+hewer of wood and drawer of water, to say nothing of washing the dishes.
+We'll all feel<span class='pagenum'><a name="page63" id="page63">[Pg 63]</a></span> free to call on him whenever any of us gets into a tight
+place. How does that hit you, Whittington?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never touched me! I'm no servant."</p>
+
+<p>"What will you do, then?" inquired Jim, pointedly.</p>
+
+<p>"Just what I please, and not a thing besides," replied Percy, with equal
+directness.</p>
+
+<p>The others exchanged looks, but Jim said no more.</p>
+
+<p>The greater part of the afternoon was devoted to setting the
+lobster-traps. They were loaded on the sloop, dory, and pea-pod, taken
+out, and dropped overboard around the island, brown bottles, of which
+there was a generous supply in the shed, being fastened to the warps for
+"toggles," to hold them off the bottom, so that they might not catch on
+the rocks. By five all the traps were set.</p>
+
+<p>"You and Throppy can pull these to-morrow morning, Budge," said Jim, and
+he gave them brief directions. "I'll make a trip with you myself the
+next day. But to-morrow Whittington and I are going to see what we can
+get on the trawl."</p>
+
+<p>After an early supper they climbed the eastern point. The sheep, which
+were feeding on its top, scampered off at their approach, their retreat
+covered by the ram, with shaking head. Nemo rushed, barking, after the
+flock, only to be butted ignominiously head over heels and to retreat,
+yelping, to the beach.</p>
+
+<p>"Bully for Aries!" laughed Throppy.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's Aries?" asked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"The ram, of course! Where's your Latin?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never heard the word. Where do these sheep drink, anyway? Out of the
+spring?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page64" id="page64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No," replied Jim. "The dew on the grass gives them all the moisture
+they need."</p>
+
+<p>Sandpeeps were teetering along the ledges below. Two seals bobbed their
+round, black heads in the surf at the promontory's foot. A mile to the
+south rose the spout of a whale.</p>
+
+<p>"Many craft go by here?" inquired Budge.</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty. Fishing-schooners, tugs with their tows, yachts, tramp
+steamers, sailing-vessels from the Bay of Fundy for Boston, and every
+little while a smack or power-boat. The ocean liners to Portland pass
+about fifteen miles south. So we oughtn't to be lonesome."</p>
+
+<p>On the highest part of the point Throppy found a dead spruce about
+twenty feet tall, which he picked as a mast for his wireless. Its top
+would be at least sixty feet above the cabin, so he could talk over
+twenty-five miles. He had brought with him four hundred feet of copper
+bell-wire and a dozen or so cleat insulators. He cut two spruce
+spreaders, and strung his antenn&aelig;. Then he made a hole through the cabin
+wall, improvised an insulator out of a broken bottle, and a rough table
+out of a spare box, and was ready to install his batteries and
+instruments as soon as they should arrive.</p>
+
+<p>The boys returned to the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>"How about those conditions, Whittington?" asked Budge. "Going to begin
+making 'em up?"</p>
+
+<p>"No hurry about that," responded Percy, indifferently.</p>
+
+<p>He went outside to smoke a cigarette. The bull-frogs were singing in the
+marsh. Inside, Roger was making a start on teaching Filippo English,
+and<span class='pagenum'><a name="page65" id="page65">[Pg 65]</a></span> learning a little Italian in return. Throppy was tuning his violin.
+He played a short selection, and then the boys turned in.</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow we start fishing in dead earnest," said Jim. "Whittington and
+I'll get up at midnight, and Filippo'll have to give us breakfast. You
+other fellows won't need to turn out till four. Here's hoping for good
+luck all round!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy made a wry face. The hour for rising did not sound good to him,
+but there was no harm in trying it once. After that he would see. Soon
+all were sound asleep, lulled by the murmur of the surf.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page66" id="page66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>VI</h2>
+
+<h3>TRAWLING FOR HAKE</h3>
+
+<p>"Turn out, Whittington! All aboard for the fishing-grounds!"</p>
+
+<p>Spurling's voice, reinforcing the last echoes of the alarm-clock,
+dispelled Percy's inclination to roll over for another nap. Jim's strong
+tones carried a suggestion of authority which the younger lad was half
+minded to resent. He swallowed his pride, however, rolled out, and
+dressed. It was only a half-hour after midnight when he sat down with
+Jim to a breakfast of warmed-over beans, corn-bread, and coffee,
+prepared by Filippo. Budge and Throppy were sleeping soundly. They would
+not get up until three hours later. Percy envied them, but he ate a good
+meal.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," directed Jim, "pull on those rubber boots and get into your
+oil-clothes. You'll see before long why they're useful. Trawling's a
+cold, wet, dirty business, and you want to be well prepared for it. And
+don't forget those nippers! They'll protect your hands from the chafe of
+the line."</p>
+
+<p>Taking buoys, anchors, and other gear from the fish-house, they got into
+the dory and rowed out to the <i>Barracouta</i>. The six tubs of trawl,
+baited two afternoons before, were already on board. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="page67" id="page67">[Pg 67]</a></span> stowed
+everything in its place, then headed out of the cove, towing the dory.</p>
+
+<p>It was a clear, cool night. A light wind was blowing from the north, but
+the sea was fairly smooth.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess we'll run down to Clay Bank," said Spurling. "It's only six miles
+to the southward. We ought to get a good set there."</p>
+
+<p>Steadily they plowed on. It was Percy's first experience in a small boat
+on the midnight ocean, and he felt something akin to awe as they
+breasted the long swells, heaving in slowly and gently, yet
+resistlessly. Down to the horizon all around arched the deep blue
+firmament, spangled with stars. Matinicus Rock glittered in the west,
+while just beyond the shoulder of Brimstone Point, Saddleback Light,
+almost level with the sea, kept vanishing and reappearing.</p>
+
+<p>As the <i>Barracouta</i> forged forward her prow started two diverging lines
+of phosphorescent bubbles and her wake resembled a trail of boiling
+flame. Percy called Jim's attention to the display.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," remarked the latter, "the water's firing in good shape to-night."</p>
+
+<p>There was a sudden splash to starboard. A gleaming body several feet
+long rolled up above the surface; a grunting sigh broke the silence; and
+the apparition disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" demanded the startled Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Porpoise! 'Puffing pig.'"</p>
+
+<p>For over an hour Jim held the sloop to an exact course by means of his
+compass. At half past two he stopped the engine.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess we're here!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page68" id="page68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We're here, fast enough!" assented Percy, staring about. "But where's
+here? Doesn't look any different to me from anywhere else."</p>
+
+<p>"Clay Bank."</p>
+
+<p>With his sounding-lead Jim tried the depth of the water.</p>
+
+<p>"Thought so! Fifty fathoms!"</p>
+
+<p>He prepared at once to set the trawl. Dropping the outer jib and
+mainsail, he jogged slowly before the wind under the jumbo, or inner
+jib.</p>
+
+<p>"Now let her go!"</p>
+
+<p>Over splashed the buoy, an empty pickle-keg, painted red, and drifted
+astern. Next, down went the light anchor. As soon as it reached bottom
+Jim lifted the first tub of trawl to the wash-board. Then with the
+heaving-stick, eighteen inches long and whittled to a point, he began to
+flirt overboard the coils lying in the tub.</p>
+
+<p>Percy, holding the lantern, watched the steady stream of gangings and
+herring-baited hooks follow one another over the side and sink astern.
+In a surprisingly short time the tub was empty, and the five hundred
+fathoms of trawl, with more than a hook to a fathom, lay in a long,
+straight line on the muddy bottom, three hundred feet below.</p>
+
+<p>A second tub trailed after the first, its trawl being attached to the
+end of the other. The four remaining tubs followed in order. At the
+junction of the second and third a buoy was fastened, and another
+between the fourth and fifth. To the end of the trawl from the sixth and
+last tub was tied another anchor, and as soon as it had reached bottom
+the last buoy was cast<span class='pagenum'><a name="page69" id="page69">[Pg 69]</a></span> over. They had set almost three and a half miles
+of trawl, bearing more than thirty-one hundred short, baited lines.</p>
+
+<p>"And there's a good job done!" exclaimed Jim, as the last buoy floated
+astern. "Here's to a ten-pound hake on every hook!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you often catch as many as that?" inquired Percy, innocently.</p>
+
+<p>Jim laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Hardly! We'll be more than lucky if we get a tenth of that number."</p>
+
+<p>Day was now breaking. The night wind had died out and, save for the
+long, oily swells, the sea was absolutely calm. Jim started the engine
+and swung the <i>Barracouta</i> round, and they ran leisurely back to the
+other end of the trawl, meanwhile eating the lunch Filippo had put up
+for them. Soon they were close to the first red buoy.</p>
+
+<p>"Now for business!" said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>He stepped into the dory.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess you know enough about automobiles, Whittington, to handle this
+engine. Keep the sloop close by and watch me haul. You can take your
+turn when I get tired."</p>
+
+<p>Gaffing the buoy aboard, he pulled up the anchor, and soon was hauling
+in the trawl over the wooden roller on the starboard bow. Percy watched
+with all his eyes. This was real fishing.</p>
+
+<p>As the line came in Jim coiled it smoothly down into an empty tub on a
+stand in the bow. The first three hooks were skinned clean.</p>
+
+<p>"Something down there, at any rate," he commented.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page70" id="page70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The trawl sagged heavily.</p>
+
+<p>"First fish, and a good-sized one! Pretty logy, though! Feels like a
+hake!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy stared down into the blackish-green water. Out of its gloomy
+depths rose an indistinct shadow, gradually assuming definite shape. A
+blunt, lumpy head with big, staring eyes broke the surface; two long
+streamers hung from beneath the lower jaw.</p>
+
+<p>Jim reached for his gaff.</p>
+
+<p>"Hake! And a good one, too!"</p>
+
+<p>Striking the sharp iron hook through the fish's gills, he lifted the
+slimy gray body over the gunwale, unhooked it, and slung it,
+floundering, over the kid-board into the empty space amidships.</p>
+
+<p>"Fifteen-pounder! Wish we could get a hundred more like him! Hullo!
+Who's next?"</p>
+
+<p>The newcomer had a huge reddish-brown head with bulging cheeks; his
+blotched body, adorned with wicked spines, tapered slimly off to an
+inconspicuous tail.</p>
+
+<p>"Horn-pout! Toad sculpin! Bah! Get out!"</p>
+
+<p>Jim slat the fish disgustedly off, and he sculled slowly downward. Two
+more bare hooks. Then three hake in succession, the largest not over
+five pounds. On the next line hung a writhing, twisting shape about
+eighteen inches long. With a wry face Jim held the thing up for Percy's
+inspection.</p>
+
+<p>"Slime eel! He's tied the ganging into knots and thrown off his jacket.
+Look here!"</p>
+
+<p>He stripped from the line a handful of tough, stringy slime like a mass
+of soft soap.</p>
+
+<p>"How's that for an overcoat! They always throw it off when they get hung
+up on a trawl."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page71" id="page71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Flinging the stuff away with a grimace, he rinsed his hand and cut off
+the ganging with his <ins class="correction" title="Original: no full stop">knife.</ins></p>
+
+<p>"No use trying to unhook that fellow!"</p>
+
+<p>Fathom after fathom of trawl came in over the roller. The flapping,
+dying heap in the center of the dory enlarged steadily. Jim was
+spattered with scales from head to foot, and drenched with water from
+the splashing tails. He stopped for a moment to rest.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image6.jpg" width="320" height="295" alt="image6" title="Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Now you see what oil-clothes are good for," said he. "I'll give you
+your chance in a little while."</p>
+
+<p>Percy had kept the <i>Barracouta</i> near by as Jim<span class='pagenum'><a name="page72" id="page72">[Pg 72]</a></span> pulled the dory along
+the trawl. He could watch the process very well from the sloop, and he
+was by no means anxious for a personal experience with it. It looked too
+much like hard work. He made no reply to Jim's offer.</p>
+
+<p>Refreshed by his rest, the latter resumed hauling. Up came a little
+cluster of yellow plums, as large as small walnuts, each on a stem six
+inches long, attached to a brownish bunch of roots.</p>
+
+<p>"Nigger-heads! Always grow on rocky bottom; nicest kind of place for
+fish. Trawl must have run over a patch of ledge. We're likely to pick up
+something here besides hake. What's this?"</p>
+
+<p>A heavy fish appeared, hanging motionless on the next ganging. Jim gave
+a shout.</p>
+
+<p>"Haddock! Twelve-pounder. Swallowed the hook and worried himself to
+death. Drowned!"</p>
+
+<p>"Drown a fish!" jeered Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure you can, any kind of fish, if you only keep his mouth open. If
+this fellow hadn't taken the bait in so deep he'd have been liable to
+break away. Fishermen call 'em 'butter-mouths,' their flesh is so
+tender; under jaw's the only place where a hook will hold to lift 'em
+by. See his red lips, and that black streak down each side. And look at
+these two black spots, big as silver dollars, on his shoulders; that's
+where they say the devil got him between his thumb and forefinger, but
+couldn't hold on."</p>
+
+<p>It was now not far from four o'clock. The sun, rising straight from the
+water, lifted his fiery red disk above the eastern horizon. It was a
+strange sight to Percy. The sunrises he had seen could almost<span class='pagenum'><a name="page73" id="page73">[Pg 73]</a></span> be
+numbered on the fingers of one hand. He yawned. The novelty of trawling
+was wearing off; he wished himself back in his hard bunk.</p>
+
+<p>A heavy, chunky fish of an old-gold color, with an almost continuous
+line of fins, was the next habitant of the sea to cross the dory
+gunwale. Jim held him up to show Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at this cusk! He likes rocky bottom as well as a haddock. He's
+used to deep water, and if you start him up quick his stomach will blow
+out of his mouth like a bladder. I've seen 'em so plenty that they
+floated a trawl on top of water for half a mile."</p>
+
+<p>Seven or eight small haddock and cusk, and then once more the trawl
+began to yield hake.</p>
+
+<p>"Back again on muddy bottom," said Jim. "What d'you say to trying your
+hand at it?"</p>
+
+<p>Percy agreed, but without enthusiasm. He had seen enough to realize that
+pulling a trawl was no sinecure. By means of a fish-fork Jim pitched his
+catch aboard the sloop. The first tub of trawl was now full. He
+transferred it to the <i>Barracouta</i> and set an empty tub in its place.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll find fishing is no bed of roses," he remarked as he dropped down
+into the standing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you," answered Percy, with conviction.</p>
+
+<p>He started to get aboard the dory.</p>
+
+<p>"Not there!" warned Jim. "Forward of the kid-board!"</p>
+
+<p>The caution came too late. Percy stepped into the slippery pen from
+which the fish had just been pitched; unluckily, too, he was not careful
+to plant his weight amidships. The dory, overbalanced to<span class='pagenum'><a name="page74" id="page74">[Pg 74]</a></span> starboard,
+careened suddenly, and he fell sprawling on the slimy bottom. Jim could
+not repress an exclamation of impatience.</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you step where I told you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't think she'd tip so easy," retorted Percy, angrily.</p>
+
+<p>In bad humor with himself and things in general, he scrambled up and
+took his place back of the empty tub. Jim sheered the <i>Barracouta</i> off.</p>
+
+<p>"Put on your nippers! If you don't your hands will be raw in a little
+while."</p>
+
+<p>Percy thrust his fingers through the white woolen doughnuts, grasped the
+trawl, and began dragging it in over the roller. He made slow, awkward
+work of it. Jim watched him with ill-suppressed impatience, keeping up a
+constant stream of necessary counsel.</p>
+
+<p>"Careful! Don't jerk so, or you'll catch your hooks in the gunwale.
+There's a good-sized one! Don't try to lift him aboard without the gaff.
+Press your hook down and back! Don't yank it sideways like that; you'll
+only hook him harder. Coil that line away more evenly, or we'll have a
+bad mess when we come to bait up. Don't lose that fellow! There he goes!
+Be more careful of the next one!"</p>
+
+<p>Needful though it was, this quickfire of advice rasped on Percy's
+temper. The unaccustomed work tired him badly. He was soon conscious of
+a pain in his shoulders and across the back of his neck; his wrists
+ached. Every now and then the hard, wiry line slipped off the nippers
+and sawed across his smarting fingers or palms. But pride kept him
+doggedly pulling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page75" id="page75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A dozen hake of various sizes lay behind him in the pen when a flat,
+kite-shaped fish, four feet long, with a caricature of a human face
+beneath its head, came scaling up through the water.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" he gasped in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"Skate!"</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I keep him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Keep him? No! Unless you want to eat him yourself."</p>
+
+<p>Bunglingly Percy tried to dismiss his unwelcome catch, but he made slow
+work of extricating the deeply swallowed hook. Jim had stopped the
+<i>Barracouta</i> a few feet off. With the agony that an expert feels at the
+unskilful butchery of a task by an amateur, he watched his mate's
+awkward attempts. At last he could stand it no longer.</p>
+
+<p>"Come aboard the sloop, Whittington," he ordered. "I'll finish pulling
+the trawl."</p>
+
+<p>Percy obeyed sullenly. He had almost reached his limit of physical
+endurance, and he was only too glad of relief for his smarting skin and
+aching muscles. Fishing was a miserable business, and he wanted no part
+of it; on that he was fully decided. But even if a job is unpleasant, a
+man would rather resign than be discharged. Jim's abruptness hurt his
+pride; the slight rankled.</p>
+
+<p>From the <i>Barracouta</i> he somewhat enviously watched Spurling deftly
+unhook the skate. The remainder of the trawl was pulled in in silence.
+Percy kept the sloop at a distance that discouraged speech, closing the
+gap only when Jim signaled that he wished to discharge his cargo. By ten
+o'clock the last hook was reached, anchor and buoy taken aboard, and
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="page76" id="page76">[Pg 76]</a></span> <i>Barracouta</i>, with two thousand pounds of fish heaped in her kids
+and towing astern in the dory, headed for Tarpaulin Island.</p>
+
+<p>The trip home was a glum one. Two or three times Jim tried to open a
+conversation, but Percy responded only in monosyllables. He was tired
+and sleepy, and felt generally out-of-sorts. So Jim gave it up and let
+him alone.</p>
+
+<p>They reached Sprowl's Cove at noon. Budge and Throppy had returned some
+time before from pulling the lobster-traps; Jim inspected their catch.</p>
+
+<p>"About forty pounds," was his estimate. "Rather slim; but then the traps
+were down only about twelve hours. We'll do better after we get fairly
+started. I'm not going trawling to-morrow; so the whole crowd can make a
+lobstering trip in the <i>Barracouta</i>. Now let's have dinner. This
+afternoon we'll all turn to and dress fish."</p>
+
+<p>Percy filed a mental negative to the last statement. He had decided
+that, so far at least as Tarpaulin Island was concerned, his fishing
+days were over. Nevertheless, he ate a good dinner.</p>
+
+<p>At one o'clock the four academy boys rowed out to the <i>Barracouta</i>. All
+but Percy had on their oilskin aprons, or "petticoats."</p>
+
+<p>"Where's your regimentals, Whittington?" asked Lane.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm only going to look on this afternoon," replied Percy.</p>
+
+<p>The other three exchanged surprised glances, but made no comments. On
+board the sloop Jim was soon busily engaged in demonstrating the process
+of dressing fish. Budge and Throppy learned quickly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page77" id="page77">[Pg 77]</a></span> Percy's refusal to
+take part in the work did not prevent him from watching it with interest
+from the cabin roof.</p>
+
+<p>The fish were split and cleaned. Their heads were cut off and thrown
+into a barrel, to serve later as lobster bait, and the livers tossed
+into pails. Their "sounds," the membrane running along the backbone,
+were removed and placed in a box. After the bodies had been rinsed in a
+tub of water, and the backbones cut out, they were flung into the dory,
+taken ashore and plunged into another tub of water, and then salted down
+in hogsheads. Three pairs of hands made speedy work.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you do with those?"</p>
+
+<p>Percy pointed to the pails containing the livers.</p>
+
+<p>"Leave 'em in a barrel in the sun to be tried out," responded Jim. "The
+oil is worth more than sixty cents a gallon."</p>
+
+<p>"And those?"</p>
+
+<p>He indicated the box of "sounds."</p>
+
+<p>"Cut 'em open with a pair of shears, press out the blood, and spread 'em
+on wire netting to dry for three days; then sew 'em up in sacks, to be
+shipped to some glue-factory. Four pounds of 'em'll bring a dollar.
+These things and some others are the by-products of the fishing
+business. They're worth too much to throw away."</p>
+
+<p>Percy's eye dwelt on the knives and aprons of his three associates.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad I don't have to fish for a living," he said.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>VII</h2>
+
+<h3>SHORTS AND COUNTERS</h3>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page78" id="page78">[Pg 78]</a></span>Percy slept soundly that night. To be sure, the alarm routed out the
+Spurlingites at the unseemly hour of four, but that was far better than
+twelve. After breakfast he enjoyed a cigarette on the beach while the
+others were helping Filippo clear away. It was a calm, beautiful
+morning, and as young Whittington gazed over the smooth, blue sea he
+felt that even a fisherman's life might have its redeeming features.</p>
+
+<p>At six they all started to make the round of the lobster-traps, on the
+<i>Barracouta</i>. The first string of white buoys, striped with green, was
+encountered off Brimstone Point.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's where we make a killing," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>As he approached the first buoy he opened his switch, stopping the
+engine. Putting on his woolen mittens, he picked up the gaff. Close
+under the starboard quarter bobbed the brown bottle that served as a
+toggle. Reaching out with his gaff, he hooked this aboard, and began
+hauling in the warp. At last the heavily weighted trap started off
+bottom and began to ascend. In a half-minute its end, draped with marine
+growths, broke the surface.</p>
+
+<p>Holding the trap against the side, Jim tore off<span class='pagenum'><a name="page79" id="page79">[Pg 79]</a></span> its incumbrances. The
+trailing mass was composed principally of irregular, brownish-black,
+leathery sheets at the end of long stems.</p>
+
+<p>"Kelp!" answered Jim to Percy's inquiry. "Devil's aprons! They grow on
+rocky bottom. I've seen a trap so loaded with 'em that you could hardly
+stir it."</p>
+
+<p>He dragged the lath coop up on the side. It contained a miscellaneous
+assortment, the most interesting objects in which were four or five
+black, scorpion-like shell-fish clinging to the netted heads and
+sprawling on the bottom. Unbuttoning the door at the top, Jim darted in
+his hand and seized one of these by its back. Round came the claws, wide
+open, and snapped shut close to his fingers; but he had grasped his
+prize at the one spot where the brandishing pincers could not reach him.</p>
+
+<p>"He's a 'counter,' fast enough! No need of measuring him! Must weigh at
+least two pounds."</p>
+
+<p>Jim dropped the snapping shell-fish into a tub in the standing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought lobsters were red," remarked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"They are&mdash;after you boil 'em."</p>
+
+<p>Spurling's hand went into the trap again. This time the result was not
+so satisfactory. Out came a little fellow, full of fight. Jim tested his
+length by pressing his back between the turned-up ends of a brass
+measure screwed against the side of the standing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Thought so! He's a 'short'!"</p>
+
+<p>He tossed the lobster overboard.</p>
+
+<p>"What did you throw him away for?" asked Percy. "Isn't he good to eat?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page80" id="page80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Nothing better! But it's the State law. Everything that comes short of
+four and three-fourths inches, solid bone measure, from the tip of the
+nose to the end of the back, has to be thrown over where it's caught."</p>
+
+<p>"Why's that?"</p>
+
+<p>"To keep 'em from being exterminated. It's based on the same principle
+as the law on trout or any other game-fish. Lobsters are growing scarcer
+every year, and something has to be done to preserve 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Does everybody throw the little ones away?"</p>
+
+<p>"No! If they did there'd be more of legal size. The Massachusetts law
+allows the sale there of lobsters an inch and a half shorter than the
+length specified here; so their smacks come down, lie outside the
+three-mile limit, and buy 'shorts' of every fisherman who's willing to
+break the Maine law to sell 'em. Besides that, most of the summer
+cottagers along the coast buy and catch all the 'shorts' they can. So
+it's no wonder the lobster's running out."</p>
+
+<p>While Jim talked he was emptying the trap. Another "counter" went into
+the tub, and two more "shorts" splashed overboard. The financial side of
+the question interested Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"How many 'shorts' will you probably get a week?"</p>
+
+<p>"Five hundred or more."</p>
+
+<p>"And how much would a Massachusetts smack pay you for 'em?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ten or twelve cents apiece."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you expect to throw more than fifty dollars a week over the side,
+just to obey the law?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page81" id="page81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That's what!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy lapsed into silence. The lobsters disposed of, Jim began to clear
+the trap of its other contents. A big brown sculpin was floundering on
+the laths. Taking him out gingerly, Jim tossed him into the bait-tub
+upon the hake heads.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll do for bait in a few days."</p>
+
+<p>He picked out and threw over three or four large starfish, or
+"five-fingers." The hake head stuck on the bait-spear in the center was
+almost gone; Jim replaced it with a fresh head from the bait-tub. Then
+he seized a mottled, purplish crab that had been aimlessly scuttling to
+and fro across the bottom of the pot, and impaled him, back down, on the
+barb of the spear. Shutting and buttoning the door, he slid the trap
+overboard, started his engine, and headed for the next buoy.</p>
+
+<p>Its trap was caught among the rocks on the bottom, and Jim, unable to
+start it by hand, was obliged to make the warp fast and have recourse to
+towing. Just as it looked as if the line were about to part, the trap
+let go. It yielded one "counter" and three "shorts." Also, it contained
+more than a dozen brown, unhealthy-looking, membranous things, shaped
+like long coin-purses, lined with rows of suckers, and with mouths at
+one end.</p>
+
+<p>"Sea-cucumbers! I've seen a trap full of 'em, almost to the door.
+They're after the bait, like everything else."</p>
+
+<p>Trap after trap was pulled, with varying success. Occasionally from a
+single one three or four good-sized lobsters would be taken;
+occasionally one would yield nothing at all. But the majority averaged
+one<span class='pagenum'><a name="page82" id="page82">[Pg 82]</a></span> "counter." Percy could not accustom himself to the seeming waste of
+throwing over the "shorts."</p>
+
+<p>"I should think you might sell those little fellows to the Massachusetts
+boats, and nobody be the wiser for it."</p>
+
+<p>"I could; but I won't. I'll make clean money or I won't make any at
+all."</p>
+
+<p>There was a finality in Jim's tones that closed the subject for good.
+Half the traps had now been hauled and there were about seventy-five
+pounds of lobsters in the tub. Spiny, egg-like sea-urchins, green
+wrinkles, and an occasional flounder or lamper-eel gave variety to the
+catch. There was always the hope that the next trap might yield five or
+six big fellows.</p>
+
+<p>"Now and then," said Jim, "you get one so large he can't crawl into a
+pot. He'll be on the head, just as you start pulling, and he'll hang to
+the netting until he comes to the top. After they take hold of anything,
+they hate to let go."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the biggest one you ever saw?" asked Lane.</p>
+
+<p>"One day when I was in Rockland, a smack brought in a fifteen-pounder
+she'd bought at Seal Island. But of course they grow a good deal larger
+than that. The big ones don't taste nearly so good as the little ones.
+After they get to be a certain age, seven or eight years, the fishermen
+think, they don't 'shed.' Then you find 'em covered with barnacles,
+their claws cracked into squares, all wrinkled up. Those old grubbers
+belong to the offshore school; they stay outside, and never come in on
+the rocks."</p>
+
+<p>Percy was listening with all his ears.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page83" id="page83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by saying they don't 'shed'?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Harken to the lecture on lobsters by Professor James Spurling!"
+announced Lane in stentorian tones.</p>
+
+<p>The next group of traps was some distance off, so Jim had a chance to
+talk without interruption.</p>
+
+<p>"In the spring a lobster that is growing begins to find his shell too
+tight, so he has to get out of it. Some time after the first of July he
+crawls in under the rocks or kelp, where the fish can't trouble him. His
+shell splits down the back and he pulls himself out. He stays there for
+a week or ten days while a new and larger shell is forming. When he
+begins to crawl again, he's raving hungry. One queer thing I almost
+forgot. Fishermen say that, while he is lying under cover, all soft and
+unprotected, a hard-shell lobster, active and ugly, generally stands
+guard outside the hole, ready to fight off any enemy that may come
+along."</p>
+
+<p>By the time the last trap was pulled the lobster question had been
+pretty thoroughly canvassed.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess I've told you all I know, and more, too," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>They were back in Sprowl's Cove at half past ten, and put their lobsters
+into the car with the others. Hardly had they finished when a
+motor-sloop came round the eastern point.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's a smack!" exclaimed Jim. "On time to the minute! Shouldn't
+wonder if it was Captain Higgins in the <i>Calista!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The boat swept into the cove in a broad circle, and ranged alongside the
+car. At the helm stood a<span class='pagenum'><a name="page84" id="page84">[Pg 84]</a></span> tall, grizzled man of perhaps sixty, with gray
+beard and twinkling blue eyes. A lanky, freckled boy stuck his head up
+out of the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>"Any lobsters to sell, boys?" inquired the man.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't this Captain Higgins?" asked Jim.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image7.jpg" width="320" height="311" alt="image7" title="Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"That's my name&mdash;Benjamin B. Higgins, of the smack <i>Calista</i>, buying
+lobsters from Cranberry Island to Portland, and this is my son Brad, my
+first mate and crew. I own this boat from garboard to main truck,
+bowsprit-tip to boom-end, and I don't wear any man's dog-collar. I'll
+give you a square<span class='pagenum'><a name="page85" id="page85">[Pg 85]</a></span> deal on weight and pay you as much as any smackman,
+neither more nor less. Do we trade?"</p>
+
+<p>"We do," answered Jim. "Let's have your dip-net!"</p>
+
+<p>Stepping upon the car, he was soon bailing out the lobsters. Captain
+Higgins placed them in a tub on his deck scale.</p>
+
+<p>"Going to be here long, boys?"</p>
+
+<p>"We've taken the island for the season from my Uncle Tom Sprowl."</p>
+
+<p>"So you're Cap'n Tom's nephew? Must be Ezra Spurling's boy."</p>
+
+<p>Jim nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Glad to meet you! Made a trip once to the Grand Banks with Ezra; must
+be all of thirty years ago. Well, time flies! If you'll save your
+lobsters for me, I'll look in here every Thursday. How does that hit
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Right between the eyes."</p>
+
+<p>After the lobsters were bailed out, Jim and Budge went on board the
+smack. Captain Higgins weighed the heaping tub of shell-fish.</p>
+
+<p>"One hundred and seventy pounds. Market price 's twenty-five."</p>
+
+<p>He glanced inquiringly at Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" agreed the latter.</p>
+
+<p>"Then we'll put 'em in the well."</p>
+
+<p>He lifted off a hatch aft of the scale, opening into a compartment
+containing something over three feet of water; it was twelve feet long
+and thirteen wide, and divided into two parts by a low partition running
+lengthwise of the sloop. Two water-tight bulkheads separated it from the
+rest of the boat, and several<span class='pagenum'><a name="page86" id="page86">[Pg 86]</a></span> hundred inch-and-a-quarter holes, bored
+through its bottom to allow free access to the water outside, gave it
+the appearance of a pepper-box. It already contained hundreds of live
+lobsters.</p>
+
+<p>Picking the shell-fish carefully from the tub, Jim and the captain
+dropped them, one by one, into the well. Soon all were safely
+transferred to their new quarters, and the hatch was replaced. Captain
+Higgins invited Jim and Budge down into his little den of a cabin.
+Unlocking an iron box, he took from it a wallet and began counting out
+bills.</p>
+
+<p>"Forty-two dollars and a half!"</p>
+
+<p>He passed the amount over to Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"You carry quite a sum of ready money, Captain," said Lane.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I have to. This business is cash on the nail. My boat can take
+over twelve thousand pounds of lobsters, and sometimes she's almost
+filled. I've started out with three thousand dollars in that box, and I
+rarely go with less than two thousand. It'd surprise you to figure up
+the amount of cash these smacks spread along the coast. They say that
+one winter, when lobsters were specially high, a Portland dealer paid a
+smackman over fifty-five hundred dollars for a single trip."</p>
+
+<p>"Somebody must make a big profit. Think what a lobster costs in a
+market!"</p>
+
+<p>"Somebody does&mdash;sometimes. But it isn't the smackmen. Lobsters ought not
+to be kept in a well longer than a few days. A friend of mine started
+out from Halifax with ten thousand pounds of Cape Breton lobsters. He
+got caught in a gale of wind and lost forty-seven hundred pounds before
+he landed<span class='pagenum'><a name="page87" id="page87">[Pg 87]</a></span> in Boston. Some years ago a Maine dealer put one hundred and
+five thousand lobsters in a pound during May and June; he fed them
+chiefly on herring, and the total cost was over ten thousand dollars.
+Things went wrong and he took out just two hundred and fifty-four live
+ones. Not much profit about that!"</p>
+
+<p>Arranging to call near noon the next Thursday, Captain Higgins had soon
+rounded Brimstone Point and was on his way to Head Harbor on Isle au
+Haut, his next stopping-place. In the middle of the afternoon, while the
+boys were baiting trawls on the <i>Barracouta</i>, another boat chugged into
+the cove. It was a smack from Boston.</p>
+
+<p>"Got any lobsters, boys?" asked the captain, a red-faced, smooth-shaven
+man of forty.</p>
+
+<p>"All sold!" was Jim's reply. "And we've arranged to let the <i>Calista</i>
+have what we get."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you do with your 'shorts'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Heave 'em overboard."</p>
+
+<p>"Save 'em for me and I'll give you ten cents apiece for 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing doing!"</p>
+
+<p>"You and your crowd could clean up fifty dollars more a week here just
+as well as not. What are you afraid of? The warden can't get out here
+once in a dog's age."</p>
+
+<p>"The State of Maine doesn't have to hire any warden to keep me honest."</p>
+
+<p>"You're a fool, young fellow!" said the man, heatedly.</p>
+
+<p>"That may be," retorted Jim, "but your saying so doesn't make me one.
+Besides, I'd rather be a fool than a crook."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page88" id="page88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The smackman's red face grew redder.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you get fresh with me!" he warned, threateningly. "Do you mean to
+say I'd do anything crooked?"</p>
+
+<p>"You're the best judge about that."</p>
+
+<p>Jim was tiring of the conversation. He turned his back on the stranger
+and resumed baiting his trawl. Finding that nothing was to be gained by
+a longer stop, the man, muttering angrily, started his engine and left
+the cove.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not saying whether this lobster law's a good thing or not," said
+Jim to the other boys. "Some fishermen say it isn't. But so long as it's
+the law it ought to be kept, until we can get a better one. I don't
+believe in breaking it just for the sake of making a few dollars."</p>
+
+<p>"Then the law doesn't suit everybody," ventured Throppy.</p>
+
+<p>"Not by a long shot! Each session of the Legislature they fight it over,
+and make some changes, and then a new set of people are dissatisfied.
+What's meat to one man is poison to another. It's impossible to pass a
+law somebody wouldn't find fault with."</p>
+
+<p>"What keeps one man from pulling another man's traps?" asked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"His conscience, if he has any; and, if he hasn't, his dread of being
+found out. It's a mean kind of thieving, but more or less of it's done
+alongshore. Sometimes it costs a man dear. I know of two cases, within
+twenty-five miles of this island, where men have been shot dead for that
+very thing. About as unhealthy as stealing horses out West, if you're<span class='pagenum'><a name="page89" id="page89">[Pg 89]</a></span>
+caught. Like everything else, now and then it has its funny side. Once a
+lobsterman lost his watch, chain and all; for a day or two he was asking
+everybody he met if they'd seen it. A neighbor of his went out to pull
+his own traps. In one of them he found the first man's watch, hanging by
+its chain to the door, just where it had been caught and twitched out of
+its owner's pocket when he had slid the trap overboard, after stealing
+the lobsters in it. It was a long time before he heard the last of
+that."</p>
+
+<p>"Did he get his watch back?" asked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't know!" replied Jim. "But if he didn't it served him right."</p>
+
+<p>On the <i>Barracouta's</i> next trip to Matinicus she brought back the
+balance of Throppy's wireless outfit. It did not take him long to get
+his plant in working order. Almost every evening thereafter he spent a
+short time picking up messages from passing steamers and the neighboring
+islands, and sending others in return. The wireless came to fill an
+important place in the life of the boys on Tarpaulin, furnishing a bond
+of connection between them and the outside world.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page90" id="page90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>SALT-WATER GIPSIES</h3>
+
+<p>A few mornings after the first call of the <i>Calista</i> Budge and Percy
+were out pulling traps. Percy had told Jim plainly that he did not care
+to do any more trawling. Jim had smiled and made no reply; but after
+that either Throppy or Budge went out with him after hake. What the
+others said in private about Percy he neither knew nor cared.</p>
+
+<p>On this particular forenoon the lobster-catchers had half circled the
+island. As they nosed along the northern shore Percy spied some
+strange-looking floats ahead.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a red buoy!" he exclaimed. "Somebody else must be fishing
+here!"</p>
+
+<p>Incredulously Budge glanced forward. What he saw left him sober.</p>
+
+<p>"You're right! This'll be unpleasant news for Jim."</p>
+
+<p>They ran up to the strange float. It was a battered wedge, painted a
+faded brick color. Percy gaffed it aboard.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the brand?" queried Budge.</p>
+
+<p>"Hasn't any."</p>
+
+<p>Lane examined it and found that Percy was<span class='pagenum'><a name="page91" id="page91">[Pg 91]</a></span> correct. The wood bore no
+marks to reveal its owner.</p>
+
+<p>"Better haul the trap?" asked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>He began heaving in on the warp.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop that!" ordered Budge, sharply. "Throw it over. We don't want to
+get into any scrape. We'll have to put it up to Jim this noon. He'll
+know what to do."</p>
+
+<p>They counted nine more of the red buoys before they reached the
+northeast point of the island.</p>
+
+<p>"Look there!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy pointed toward the landlocked Sly Hole. A thin column of blue
+smoke was rising above it, as if from the stovepipe of an anchored boat.
+Budge debated for a moment, then turned the bow of the pea-pod toward
+the narrow entrance.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll go in and see who's there."</p>
+
+<p>A dozen quick strokes sent the boat through the winding channel into the
+little harbor. Budge rested on his oars and they looked eagerly about.</p>
+
+<p>In the center of the haven lay anchored a rusty black sloop about forty
+feet long, a dory swinging at her stern. From her cabin drifted the
+sound and smell of frying fish, mingled with men's voices.</p>
+
+<p>"Might as well take the bull by the horns," said Budge.</p>
+
+<p>He rowed directly up to the sloop. The sounds on board evidently drowned
+the dipping of his oars, for it was not until the stem of the pea-pod
+struck the rusty side that the voices stopped and two startled brown
+faces popped up out of the companionway. Both men had sharp black eyes,
+and black shocks of hair badly in need of the barber. One was<span class='pagenum'><a name="page92" id="page92">[Pg 92]</a></span> slightly
+gray, and a prickly stubble of unshaven beard covered his chin. The
+younger man had a jet-black mustache with long, drooping ends. Both</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image8.jpg" width="320" height="344" alt="image8" title="Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p>wore red shirts, open at the neck, with sleeves rolled above the elbows.
+The younger held a half-smoked cigar, while his companion grasped a
+large fork, which he evidently had been using on the fish. For<span class='pagenum'><a name="page93" id="page93">[Pg 93]</a></span> a few
+seconds the two couples regarded each other in silence.</p>
+
+<p>Then the man with the black mustache smiled ingratiatingly.</p>
+
+<p>"H'lo, boys!" he invited. "Won't you come 'board?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you," declined Budge. "When did you get here?"</p>
+
+<p>"We come last night, from ... there," with a vague gesture toward the
+west. "We fish, we lobster. You live on dis island ... yes? We stay
+here, too. We be good friend. Wait!"</p>
+
+<p>Diving below, he brought up a long-necked black bottle.</p>
+
+<p>"You have drink?"</p>
+
+<p>"No!" refused Budge, decidedly.</p>
+
+<p>The man looked disappointed. He muttered a few words to his companion.
+The latter scowled. Then they drank from the bottle and replaced it
+below. The younger man began talking again.</p>
+
+<p>"Disa good harbor! We build camp there."</p>
+
+<p>He gestured toward the beach.</p>
+
+<p>"We plenty lath on board. We make one ... two hundred trap. We stop all
+summer. Good friend, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"I guess so," returned Budge.</p>
+
+<p>The program announced had taken him somewhat aback. He hardly knew what
+to reply. Pushing the pea-pod off, he turned her toward the channel.</p>
+
+<p>"You livea 'cross dis island ... yes?" shouted the man after him. "We
+come see you to-night!"</p>
+
+<p>Budge made no response to this advance. Steady,<span class='pagenum'><a name="page94" id="page94">[Pg 94]</a></span> rapid pulling soon
+brought the boys again into open water.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do you think now?" asked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait till we hear what Jim says," was Lane's reply.</p>
+
+<p>The remaining traps were hauled in double-quick time and they made a
+bee-line for Sprowl's Cove. Spurling and Throppy came in at noon on the
+<i>Barracouta</i>. Jim's brows knitted when he heard of their new neighbors.</p>
+
+<p>"What should you say they were?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't know," answered Lane. "Only I'm sure they're not Yankees."</p>
+
+<p>"And they had no brand on their buoys?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a letter!"</p>
+
+<p>"That's against the law. Suspicious, too. So they intend to build a camp
+here and spend the summer?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's what they said."</p>
+
+<p>The anxious furrows in Jim's forehead deepened. He brought his fist down
+hard on the <i>Barracouta's</i> cabin.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys," he said, firmly, "they can't stop here. There aren't lobsters
+enough on these ledges for them and for us. What they get we won't.
+They've got to pull up those traps and get out just as quick as we can
+make 'em."</p>
+
+<p>The others exchanged looks of surprise. Though they knew Jim's absolute
+fairness and sense of right, they could not help feeling that his
+decision was a harsh one. Jim read their faces.</p>
+
+<p>"I know what you're thinking, boys. It seems as if I had no right to
+drive 'em off. But suppose any one of you owned a piece of woods on the
+main<span class='pagenum'><a name="page95" id="page95">[Pg 95]</a></span>land, and a stranger should come and begin to chop the trees down
+without your permission. How long would you stand it? The same principle
+holds good here, even if it is twenty-five miles offshore. This is my
+uncle Tom's island. He's been paying taxes on it for years. His living
+comes from it and the waters round it. He's leased it to us on shares,
+and we've got to look out for his interest as well as our own.</p>
+
+<p>"But how can you stop them from setting traps?" queried Lane. "I thought
+the sea beyond low-water mark was public property."</p>
+
+<p>"It is. They can set as many traps as they can bring on their sloop, and
+I never could trouble 'em so long as they lived aboard. If they fished
+with only the few they've got now I'd never say a word. But when they
+talk of building a camp ashore, and going into the business wholesale
+with one or two hundred pots, we must draw the line, and draw it sharp.
+They can't use any of the shore legally without my permission, and that
+they'll never get; and if they try to use it illegally they'll find
+themselves in hot water mighty quick.</p>
+
+<p>"Another thing," he continued, "they're strangers to us, and drinking
+men. They might pull our traps or accuse us of pulling theirs. There's a
+chance for all sorts of mix-ups. No, they've got to go, and the sooner
+the better."</p>
+
+<p>"They're coming across to call to-night," said Lane.</p>
+
+<p>"Not if we can get over there first. We'll go round in the sloop as soon
+as these hake are dressed and salted."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page96" id="page96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At four o'clock the last fish was slapped down on the rounded-up tub.</p>
+
+<p>"Now we'll go," announced Jim. "Come on, everybody! You, too, Filippo!
+Might as well show up our full force. It may help stave off trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you going to take the gun?" Percy inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Gun? No! What'd we want of that? We don't intend to shoot anybody."</p>
+
+<p>Twenty minutes after the <i>Barracouta</i> left Sprowl's Cove she was
+thudding into the Sly Hole. The sloop still lay at anchor in its center,
+but the dory was grounded on the beach. From the woods above, ax-strokes
+echoed faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"Either cutting firewood or beginning on that camp," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the chopping ceased. Before long the two men appeared on the
+top of the bank, dragging a spruce trunk about twenty feet long. On
+seeing the <i>Barracouta</i> they halted in surprise, then dropped the tree
+and hurried down to their dory.</p>
+
+<p>"Seem to be afraid we've been mousing round aboard their boat," muttered
+Spurling.</p>
+
+<p>Without responding to his hail the two strangers rowed hastily to their
+sloop and went below. A minute or two of investigation evidently
+satisfied them that nothing had been disturbed. As they came up again
+Jim ran the <i>Barracouta</i> alongside.</p>
+
+<p>"Where you from?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>The younger man again acted as spokesman:</p>
+
+<p>"Way off ... there!"</p>
+
+<p>As when Budge had questioned him, he gestured<span class='pagenum'><a name="page97" id="page97">[Pg 97]</a></span> vaguely toward the west.
+Then he launched into a repetition of what he had said that forenoon.</p>
+
+<p>"We stay on dis island all summer. Make trap. Build camp. Catch plenty
+fish, plenty lobster. All friend, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>He laid his left hand on his heart, and with his right made a sweeping
+gesture that included the whole group.</p>
+
+<p>"You wait!"</p>
+
+<p>Dropping suddenly out of sight, he reappeared with equal quickness,
+brandishing the black bottle.</p>
+
+<p>"We drink ... all together, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>Jim brushed his proffer aside.</p>
+
+<p>"I've hired this island. You'll have to pay me rent if you stop here."</p>
+
+<p>A shadow of wrath swept over the dark face. Instantly it was gone, and a
+smile replaced it.</p>
+
+<p>"Rent!" he protested. "No, no! Friend no pay! We sing, we smoke, we
+drink, we playa cards. All good friend together. No pay money!"</p>
+
+<p>The last very decided. The older man nodded vigorously in confirmation,
+and for the first time broke silence.</p>
+
+<p>"No pay money!" he repeated. "All friend!"</p>
+
+<p>The two laid their hands on their hearts and stood smiling and bowing.
+For a moment Jim was nonplussed. He backed the <i>Barracouta</i> out of
+earshot.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what d'you think of the outlook?" asked Lane.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't like it, and I don't like them. Too much palaver! I've got 'em
+sized up. They're regular salt-water gipsies; I've heard of 'em before.
+They<span class='pagenum'><a name="page98" id="page98">[Pg 98]</a></span> drift round from one place to another, fish a little, lobster a
+little, smoke a good deal, and drink more. They'd be worse than a
+pestilence on this island. Yes, sir! They've got to go! They know just
+as well as I do that they've no right to stop here; but they're going to
+bluff it through. They'll try to stave me off by pretending not to
+understand what I mean, but you noticed they were bright enough when
+money was mentioned."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell 'em they've got to go!"</p>
+
+<p>"And if they won't?"</p>
+
+<p>"Send for the sheriff!"</p>
+
+<p>While the boys had been holding their council of war the two men had
+disappeared into their cabin, where they held an angry, but
+unintelligible, discussion. As Jim brought the <i>Barracouta</i> once more
+alongside their heads quickly appeared. They were scowling blackly.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you pay rent?" demanded Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"No pay rent," came the defiant reply from both together.</p>
+
+<p>"Pull up your traps, then, and go!"</p>
+
+<p>"No go!" exclaimed the younger. "You go! We stay!"</p>
+
+<p>"That settles it," said Jim. "I'll send for the sheriff to-night, and
+have him here in the morning."</p>
+
+<p>He leaned over to start his engine. At his first movement the two
+dropped out of sight, but before he could rock the wheel they were up
+again, each holding a shot-gun. They leveled these weapons at the
+<i>Barracouta</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"No send for sheriff! No start engine!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page99" id="page99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Jim straightened up and the startled boys glanced at one another. The
+demonstration of hostility had come like a bolt from a clear sky. Things
+looked ugly. Again the younger man spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"S'pose you go for sheriff. We stay! Cut buoy! Sink boat! Burn cabin!
+Then go before you get back! How you like that, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>For once Jim was at a loss. What answer could be made to such an
+argument? The other noted his hesitation, and smiled triumphantly.</p>
+
+<p>"You let us alone, we let you alone! You trouble us, we trouble you. Now
+you go!"</p>
+
+<p>It was half a permission, half a command, backed by the leveled guns.
+Jim was on the point of starting the engine when Filippo interrupted
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Misser Jim, let me talk to 'em," he begged in a low tone.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling glanced at him in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"What for, Filippo? Are they countrymen of yours?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't know! I see!"</p>
+
+<p>"Go ahead, then! It can't do any hurt."</p>
+
+<p>"Hi!" called out Filippo. "Listen! <i>Ascoltatemi!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The two men started as if they had been shot; they fixed their gaze on
+Filippo. He began talking rapidly to them in Italian, gesturing freely.
+They replied in the same language. For fully ten minutes the heated
+dialogue continued. Jim and his mates listened in silence, now and then
+catching a word they had learned from Filippo, but not comprehending the
+drift of the debate.</p>
+
+<p>At last it was clear that some conclusion had been reached. Shaking
+their heads in disgust, the two<span class='pagenum'><a name="page100" id="page100">[Pg 100]</a></span> sullenly restored their guns to the
+cabin. Filippo turned to Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"All right! They go to-night, after they pull traps. Now we start&mdash;right
+away!"</p>
+
+<p>Jim looked at the Italian in amazement; but he started the engine and
+the sloop forged out of the cove. Once in the passage, he broke silence.</p>
+
+<p>"How did you ever manage it, Filippo?"</p>
+
+<p>"I tell them your uncle own island; you hire it of him for summer. You
+lots of friends. If they no go, you send for sheriff right away. We too
+many for them. Guard cabin with gun till you get back. Sheriff come in
+night, while they sleep. Take them, take boat, take trap. Put them in
+jail. They break rock, work on road rest of summer. They not like that.
+They go!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good enough, Filippo! Guess you didn't strain the truth much. You
+certainly have got us out of an unpleasant hole. I'm free to say I was
+at my wits' end. Good thing for us we ran across you on the wharf at
+Stonington!"</p>
+
+<p>"Better thing for me!" answered Filippo.</p>
+
+<p>That evening after supper the boys stole silently through the woods to
+the northeastern end of the island. The Sly Hole was empty! The sloop
+had gone!</p>
+
+<p>Stepping out of the evergreens, Jim looked westward along the shore.</p>
+
+<p>"There they are!"</p>
+
+<p>The dory towing astern was piled high with traps.</p>
+
+<p>"Shouldn't wonder if they had some of ours among 'em!" exclaimed Jim.
+"No matter! We're getting<span class='pagenum'><a name="page101" id="page101">[Pg 101]</a></span> rid of 'em cheap, if they scoop a dozen! But
+look at that! They've got all they want, and now they're cutting away
+our buoys! Here's where I call a halt!"</p>
+
+<p>He sprang out upon the bank in plain sight.</p>
+
+<p>"Hi, there! Stop that!"</p>
+
+<p>One of the men had just gaffed a buoy. At Jim's hail he glanced up and
+waved his hand nonchalantly. Then he deliberately cut the warp. The
+other man dropped into the cabin and reappeared with the two guns. Jim
+threw himself flat on his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Down, boys!" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>A hail of birdshot peppered the bluff and the woods behind it as both
+the double-barrels roared out in unison. One leaden pellet drew blood
+from the back of Jim's hand, while Throppy, a little slow in dropping to
+cover, was stung on the cheek. The others were untouched. Percy shook
+with fright and excitement. Lane was boiling with anger.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's take the <i>Barracouta</i> and follow 'em!" he proposed.</p>
+
+<p>"Cool off, Budge!" laughed Jim. "That's just a parting salute. Besides,
+they've got two guns to our one. Let 'em go! And good riddance to bad
+rubbish! See! They're on their way now!"</p>
+
+<p>The sloop's head swung to the north and she filled away.</p>
+
+<p>"They've done what damage they've dared and they're gone for good.
+They'll be up at Isle au Haut to-night, either in Head Harbor or
+Kimball's Island Thoroughfare. Forget 'em!"</p>
+
+<p>"Lucky my temper isn't hitched up with your strength," said Lane.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page102" id="page102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>IX</h2>
+
+<h3>FISTS AND FIREWORKS</h3>
+
+<p>Late on the afternoon of July 3d, when the morning's catch of eighteen
+hundred pounds of hake had been split and salted, Spurling called a
+council of war. Percy attended with the others. He had gone out with
+Budge in the morning to haul the lobster-traps; the rest of the day he
+had loafed, lying on the soft turf below the beacon on Brimstone Point
+and reading <i>The Three Musketeers</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Of the work that pleased him he had determined to do only as much as he
+liked, and not a stroke more. Lobstering was really attractive; there
+was enough novelty and excitement about it to keep him interested. When
+a pot came up it might contain no shell-fish or a half-dozen; the
+element of uncertainty appealed to his sporting instincts. But fishing
+he had stricken utterly from his list. It was too hard and too dirty.
+Slogging at the heavy trawls and afterward dressing the catch was too
+plebeian a business for the son of a millionaire.</p>
+
+<p>So he let the others tire their muscles and soil their hands and
+clothing while he attended strictly to the business of pleasing himself.
+He could not help being aware of a growing coolness on the part of his
+associates, but it gave him no concern. His<span class='pagenum'><a name="page103" id="page103">[Pg 103]</a></span> month of probation was
+almost up, and he had decided that, come what might, he would leave at
+its end. Only a few days more, and this hard, monotonous island life
+would be behind him forever. He would send back a check to cover the
+expense of his board, and that would permanently close his relations
+with Spurling &amp; Company.</p>
+
+<p>This resolve to pay for meals and lodging gave him a feeling of
+independence. Hence, though he knew the others did not care whether he
+attended or not, he felt himself entitled to a place at the council.</p>
+
+<p>The meeting took place on the beach in front of the cabin. Spurling and
+Stevens had just come from the <i>Barracouta</i>, their oilskin "petticoats"
+bearing gory evidence of their work for the last two hours.</p>
+
+<p>"Fellows," proposed Jim, "to-morrow let's celebrate! We can't set the
+trawls, for we haven't anything to bait up with. And even if we had, I
+don't believe in working on the Fourth. When I was at Matinicus the
+other day I saw a poster advertising a ball-game and big celebration at
+Vinalhaven. We'll have an early breakfast and run up there in the
+<i>Barracouta</i>. First, we'll go to Hardy's weir and take in a lot of
+herring for bait. Then we can slip round to Carver's Harbor and spend
+the rest of the day ashore. What d'you say?"</p>
+
+<p>There was no doubt regarding the vote.</p>
+
+<p>"The ayes have it!" shouted Spurling. "Now let's get everything in trim
+for day after to-morrow! We won't pull the traps again until then."</p>
+
+<p>Filled with enthusiasm at the prospect of a holiday, Budge, Throppy, and
+Jim dispersed to their<span class='pagenum'><a name="page104" id="page104">[Pg 104]</a></span> various tasks. Yawningly, Percy returned to
+Brimstone Point and <i>The Three Musketeers</i>. After all, doing nothing on
+an island twenty-five miles out at sea was pretty dull work.</p>
+
+<p>The boys had an early supper and were soon asleep. Turning out at
+daybreak, they despatched a hearty meal of corn-bread and bacon.
+Everybody but Percy took hold with the dishes and helped tidy up the
+camp. Shortly after sunrise they were sailing out of the cove in the
+<i>Barracouta</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The trip in past Saddleback Light to Vinalhaven was uneventful. By eight
+o'clock they were lying alongside Hardy's weir, and its owner was
+dipping bushel after bushel of shining herring into the pen aboard the
+sloop. Before ten they were anchored off the steamboat wharf at Carver's
+Harbor.</p>
+
+<p>The town was in gala dress. Bunting streamed everywhere. Torpedoes,
+firecrackers, bombs, and revolvers rent the air with deafening
+explosions. The brass guns on two yachts in the harbor contributed an
+occasional salvo. As the boys rowed in to the shore the strains of "The
+Star-Spangled Banner" came floating over the water, and round the outer
+point appeared one of the small bay steamers, loaded with excursionists,
+including a brass band. On board also was the Camden baseball team,
+scheduled to play the opening game in the county league series with the
+home team that afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Bedlam broke loose as the steamer made fast to the wharf and the crowd
+aboard streamed ashore. To Spurling and his friends, after three weeks
+of Tarpaulin Island, the narrow, winding street with<span class='pagenum'><a name="page105" id="page105">[Pg 105]</a></span> its holiday crowd
+afforded the bustle and varied interest of a city. Even Percy deigned to
+allow himself to be tempted out of the sulky dignity which he had
+assumed since the council of the previous afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>The group scattered. Lane and Stevens wandered about town, taking in the
+sights and dodging the torpedoes and firecrackers of enthusiastic
+patriots of a more or less tender age. Spurling found an old 'longshore
+acquaintance from a visiting boat and went off aboard to inspect his new
+type of engine. Filippo struck up an eternal friendship with a
+fellow-countryman from the granite quarries on Hurricane. Percy, left to
+his own resources, invested in a new brand of cigarettes and promenaded
+back and forth along the main street, smoking and eying the passers-by
+superciliously.</p>
+
+<p>Noon found the restaurants packed with hungry excursionists; but the
+crowds were good-natured and everybody was able to get plenty to eat. At
+two o'clock there was a grand rush to the baseball-grounds.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling, Lane, and Stevens sat together in the front of the stand;
+Percy perched at the extreme right of the topmost row; while Filippo lay
+on the grass back of third base with his new-found, swarthy compatriot.</p>
+
+<p>Evidently there was some hitch about beginning the game. The Vinalhavens
+had taken the field for practice. The Camden team, bunched close
+together, were talking earnestly, meanwhile casting anxious glances
+toward the street that led to the water.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page106" id="page106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Vinalhaven scorer passed before the stand with his book.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the trouble?" asked Stevens.</p>
+
+<p>"Camden catcher and third-baseman haven't shown up. They started out
+with a party in a power-boat before the steamer. Engine must have broken
+down. Here it is time to call the game, and the visiting team two men
+short! And the biggest crowd of the season here! Can you beat that for
+luck?"</p>
+
+<p>The Camden pitcher separated himself from his companions and strolled
+toward the stand.</p>
+
+<p>"Anybody here want to put on a mitt and stop a few fast ones?" he
+inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"That means you, Jim!" said Lane. "Come on! Don't be too modest!"</p>
+
+<p>Spurling climbed out over the front of the stand.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try to hold you for a little while," he volunteered.</p>
+
+<p>Soon he was smoothly receiving the pitcher's curves and lobbing them
+back. The combination went like clockwork. In the mean time the rest of
+the Camden team had taken the field and were warming up. The missing
+members had not yet appeared.</p>
+
+<p>"That'll do for a while," said the pitcher.</p>
+
+<p>The two drew to one side.</p>
+
+<p>"What team have you been catching on?" asked the Camden man, suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Graffam Academy."</p>
+
+<p>"I knew you must have traveled with a pretty speedy bunch. My name's
+Beverage."</p>
+
+<p>"Mine's Spurling."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page107" id="page107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Say, old man, I want you to do us a big favor. Catch this game for
+Camden, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've been out of practice for over a month," objected Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind about that! I don't mean to flatter you, but we've got
+nothing in this league that can touch you. Come, now! As a personal
+favor to me!"</p>
+
+<p>"All right. I'll do my best."</p>
+
+<p>"Good for you! Now we've got to pick up a third-baseman!"</p>
+
+<p>Jim hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Our Academy shortstop is here," he said, slowly. "He can play a mighty
+good third at a pinch."</p>
+
+<p>"If he's willing, we'll take him on your say-so, and snap at the
+chance."</p>
+
+<p>Jim walked to the front of the stand.</p>
+
+<p>"You're signed for third for this game, Budge! I'm going to catch."</p>
+
+<p>"We've got a couple of spare suits," said Beverage. "Come on over to the
+hotel and change."</p>
+
+<p>In fifteen minutes Lane and Spurling were back on the field in Camden
+uniforms and the game had begun.</p>
+
+<p>The contest was a hot one. The teams were evenly matched, and the result
+hung in doubt up to the last inning. The crowd boiled with enthusiasm
+and the supporters of each team cheered themselves hoarse.</p>
+
+<p>In the middle of the fifth inning, when the excitement was running
+highest, a slim, bareheaded figure with a tow pompadour sprouting above
+a fog-burnt face leaped suddenly up at the right end of the top row in
+the stand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page108" id="page108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was Percy. Exhilarated by the closeness of the game, he had forgotten
+his grudge against Spurling &amp; Company. He flourished a roll of bills.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 100px;">
+<img src="images/image9.jpg" width="100" height="334" alt="image9" title="Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Two to one on Camden!" he shouted in a high-keyed voice.</p>
+
+<p>All heads turned his way. For a moment nobody spoke. Percy mistook the
+silence. He struck a theatric attitude.</p>
+
+<p>"Three to one! Are you afraid to support your home team?"</p>
+
+<p>A girl giggled. Two or three boys hooted. Then a short, dark, thick-set
+man in the second row whirled about and answered the challenger.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said, deliberately. "We're not afraid to support our nine. If
+we were, it wouldn't be playing here to-day. We expect it to do its
+best. If it wins, it wins. If it loses, it loses. And that's all there
+is to it. Whatever dollars we have to put into baseball will go to meet
+the regular expenses of the team. We haven't any money to fool away in
+betting; and we don't care for any more second-hand talk from a
+half-baked youngster like you! You get me?"</p>
+
+<p>The crowd applauded uproariously. Pursued by the jeers and catcalls of
+the small fry, Percy sat down, his face, if possible, redder than
+before.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling caught an errorless game. It was Lane's bat in the last half of
+the ninth that finally drove in the winning run for Camden. Five to
+four.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page109" id="page109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The crowd streamed noisily off the grounds. A knot of the younger
+element tried to heckle Percy, but he strode loftily by them, puffing
+his inevitable cigarette. Jim and Budge went to the hotel with the
+Camden team to change their suits.</p>
+
+<p>Beverage was jubilant over the victory.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a mean thing to say," he remarked; "but I'm glad that power-boat
+didn't get here. We owe the game to you two fellows. How much shall we
+pay you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," answered Jim. "We're paid already. We've enjoyed winning as
+much as you have."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if you ever come to Camden, remember that you own the town."</p>
+
+<p>The boys decided to stop over for the early-evening celebration. The
+Vinalhavens were good losers, and the excursion steamer was not to start
+back until nine o'clock, so the town promised to be lively enough for
+the next few hours.</p>
+
+<p>Before it had grown very dark the streets began to blaze with fireworks.
+Percy's remarks of the afternoon still rankled in the minds of the
+junior portion of the residents, and, as he sauntered to and fro, he
+became the butt of many pointed jests. He ignored them all. Such
+trivialities were beneath the notice of a scion of the house of
+Whittington.</p>
+
+<p>It was his air of haughty superiority that got him into trouble. Tempted
+beyond endurance by his cool, insolent swagger, a small boy on the other
+side of the street discharged a Roman candle at him point-blank. One of
+the fiery balls struck his right side and dropped into the open pocket
+of his coat, starting a lively blaze. The garment got a smart<span class='pagenum'><a name="page110" id="page110">[Pg 110]</a></span>
+scorching, and Percy's fingers were burnt and his feelings badly ruffled
+before he succeeded in extinguishing the conflagration.</p>
+
+<p>Singling out the offender among a group of boys dancing delightedly up
+and down, Percy made a sudden rush and pounced upon him like a hawk on a
+chicken. Holding him by the collar, he cuffed his ears soundly. The
+criminal wriggled and twisted, loudly and tearfully protesting his
+innocence.</p>
+
+<p>A stocky, freckled lad of about eighteen, with a close-cut head of brown
+hair, came out of a neighboring house on the run. His snub nose and
+projecting jaw suggested a human bulldog. He thrust his face close up to
+Percy's.</p>
+
+<p>"What're you maulin' my brother for?" he demanded, truculently.</p>
+
+<p>Percy dropped his victim, having finished chastising him. The latter
+rubbed his eyes and howled louder than ever.</p>
+
+<p>"I asked you why you were maulin' my brother," reiterated the newcomer
+in a still more belligerent tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Because he burned this hole in my coat," replied Percy, exhibiting the
+damaged garment.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't do it!" howled the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"You hear that?" exclaimed the freckled lad, angrily. "He says he didn't
+and I say he didn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I say he did!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to tell me I lie?"</p>
+
+<p>Percy became suddenly aware that a ring was forming round him. He cast a
+hasty glance about the lowering faces and recognized some of his
+would-<span class='pagenum'><a name="page111" id="page111">[Pg 111]</a></span>be hecklers of the afternoon. No Tarpaulin Islanders were there.
+He was a stranger in a strange land. But the Whittington in him was up,
+and he did not blench. He faced his questioner.</p>
+
+<p>"If you say he didn't burn that hole&mdash;yes!"</p>
+
+<p>An indignant chorus rose from the group.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you hear that, Jabe? He called you a liar. I wouldn't stand that.
+Make him eat those words! It's the fresh guy who made the cheap talk at
+the ball-game. Soak him! Do him up!"</p>
+
+<p>Spurred on by these exhortations, Jabe dropped his head between his
+shoulders and came at his enemy with the rush of a mad bull.</p>
+
+<p>Percy was a good boxer. He had taken lessons from several first-class
+sparring-masters, and would have been no mean antagonist for anybody of
+his age and weight. But Jabe was a year older and fully twenty-five
+pounds heavier. Evidently, too, he had the abounding health and strength
+that come from life in the open. The odds against the city boy were
+heavy, but he stood up gamely.</p>
+
+<p>Jabe rushed in upon him and struck with all his might. Percy
+side-stepped, and the blow went harmlessly by, while his assailant's
+rush carried him to the other side of the ring. Whirling about with a
+cry of rage, he came back, swinging his arms like a windmill.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Jabe! Now, Jabe!" rose the cry.</p>
+
+<p>Again Percy leaped aside, and his right arm shot out. The blow caught
+his foe fairly under the left ear, and he went sprawling; but he was
+down only for a moment. Springing to his feet, he hurled himself into
+the fray with redoubled fury. Again he<span class='pagenum'><a name="page112" id="page112">[Pg 112]</a></span> was knocked down, and again he
+renewed the battle, with more strength than before.</p>
+
+<p>The fight could not last long. It was muscle against science, and in the
+end muscle won. Percy began to tire and to grow short of breath. He had
+smoked too many cigarettes to be able to keep up such a whirlwind pace
+for many minutes. Though he landed five blows to his enemy's one, the
+latter's one did more damage than his five.</p>
+
+<p>For the first time in the contest Jabe used his head. Hitherto he had
+struck straight for the mark each time. Now he feinted with his right
+for his foe's body. Percy dropped his guard somewhat wearily. Before he
+realized what was happening, Jabe's left, sent in with tremendous force,
+hit him a smashing blow squarely on the nose, knocking him over
+backward.</p>
+
+<p>It was the beginning of the end. Percy tottered up, blood spurting from
+his nose, his head spinning. He saw Jabe preparing for another rush and
+knew it would be the last one. He stiffened himself to receive the
+knock-out.</p>
+
+<p>A tall, broad-shouldered figure broke through the circle.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the trouble here?"</p>
+
+<p>It was Spurling's voice. His glance took in the situation.</p>
+
+<p>"That'll be about all," he said. "Come away, Whittington!"</p>
+
+<p>A bullet-headed, shirt-sleeved man bristled up defiantly. It was Jabe's
+father.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess we'll let 'em fight it out," he observed.</p>
+
+<p>His boy was winning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page113" id="page113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No," said Jim. "It's gone far enough."</p>
+
+<p>"Not looking for trouble, are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," remarked Jim, easily. "I don't want any trouble with you, and you
+don't want any with me."</p>
+
+<p>The shirt-sleeved man glanced appraisingly at his square shoulders and
+strongly knit figure.</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are, George!" he laughed. "I don't want any trouble with you.
+You must be a mind-reader. You call off your dog and I'll call off
+mine."</p>
+
+<p>He grasped Jabe by the collar and jerked him backward. Jim dropped a
+compelling hand on Percy's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, Whittington! You ought to have brains enough to know you've
+been licked. It's time we started for Tarpaulin Island."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page114" id="page114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>X</h2>
+
+<h3>REBELLION IN CAMP</h3>
+
+<p>Conversation lagged on the <i>Barracouta</i> as she jogged smoothly over the
+starlit sea toward Tarpaulin Island. By the dim light of two lanterns,
+Jim, Throppy, Budge, and Filippo were busy baiting the trawls with
+herring and coiling them into the tubs in the standing-room. Percy had
+withdrawn from his companions and lay across the heel of the bowsprit on
+the decked-over bow.</p>
+
+<p>He had stanched the flow of blood from his nose, but it still pained
+him, and he was otherwise bruised and badly shaken by the buffets from
+Jabe's knobby fists. Judged by Percy's feelings, Jabe must have been all
+knuckles. Percy had to acknowledge that only Spurling's opportune
+appearance had saved him from being pounded unmercifully. But his pride
+had been injured far more than his physical body. It seemed improbable
+that he would ever see Jabe again, but he determined that some time,
+somewhere, and somehow the freckled lad should pay dearly for the slight
+he had put upon the house of Whittington.</p>
+
+<p>It was a few minutes past eleven when the sloop's engine stopped and she
+glided up to her mooring in Sprowl's Cove. Five sleepy boys tumbled into
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="page115" id="page115">[Pg 115]</a></span> dory and paddled ashore. The Fourth was over and the routine of
+workaday life would begin again for them early the next morning.</p>
+
+<p>Nemo dashed back and forth on the beach, barking a furious welcome and
+springing upon his masters indiscriminately. Unwittingly he leaped at
+Percy and in playful mood closed his teeth over the lad's right thumb,
+sprained and aching from the fight.</p>
+
+<p>"Get out, you cur!" exclaimed Whittington.</p>
+
+<p>He launched an aimless, vindictive kick in the general direction of the
+gamboling beast. As often happens with random blows, it went too true.
+Nemo ki-yied up the beach on three legs.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you about, Whittington?" burst out Lane, angrily. Among the
+entire five he was the fondest of the dog.</p>
+
+<p>Percy was ashamed and sorry that he had hurt the animal, but Lane's
+eruption of temper smothered his repentant feelings.</p>
+
+<p>"He bit my thumb," he muttered, sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>"You know well enough he was just in sport. Don't you kick him again!
+You hear me!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy mumbled an indistinct reply. As soon as the cabin was unlocked he
+turned into his bunk, without a word to anybody. For him the Fourth had
+been anything but a holiday.</p>
+
+<p>Before going to sleep, Spurling outlined their work for the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>"Throppy, you and I'll try our luck on Martingale Bank. It's only a
+half-mile northwest of the island, and sometimes you can get a big catch
+there. I've been saving it for a time like this. Budge, you and Percy
+ought to get at least a couple of hundred<span class='pagenum'><a name="page116" id="page116">[Pg 116]</a></span> pounds out of those
+lobster-traps. They'll have been down two days and should yield some
+good-sized ones. Set the clock at four, Filippo! We'll be lazy for
+once."</p>
+
+<p>Percy's sleep was broken. He dreamed of being chased along the main
+street of Vinalhaven by a crowd of small boys shooting at him with Roman
+candles. He dodged into an open doorway, only to be driven out by a
+giant with Jabe's face and a half-dozen pairs of arms the fists of which
+were studded with a double allowance of knuckles. He was fast being
+pounded to a pulp when the alarm-clock went off. He woke in a cold
+sweat.</p>
+
+<p>Lying with closed eyes, he pretended to be asleep while Jim and Throppy
+finished a hasty breakfast. Soon the exhaust of the <i>Barracouta</i>
+proclaimed that they were on their way to Martingale Bank. Percy dozed,
+but remained conscious of Filippo's culinary operations.</p>
+
+<p>At five Lane turned out, according to schedule. He shook Percy
+vigorously.</p>
+
+<p>"Wake up, Whittington! Breakfast!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't care for mine yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you going out with me to haul those traps?"</p>
+
+<p>"No!" retorted Percy, sourly.</p>
+
+<p>"Suit yourself!" was Lane's brief response.</p>
+
+<p>Percy knew that Budge would rather go without him. He heard him give a
+whistle as he examined Nemo's leg; the animal cringed and whimpered.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor fellow! Too bad!" sympathized Lane.</p>
+
+<p>The remark was evidently intended for Percy's ears. At least the lad
+took it so. He felt sorry if<span class='pagenum'><a name="page117" id="page117">[Pg 117]</a></span> Nemo was really hurt. Lane went out, and
+Percy turned over for another nap. When he next woke it was almost seven
+and the cabin was empty. He got up and dressed leisurely.</p>
+
+<p>Looking out of the window, he saw Filippo digging clams on the flats
+across the cove. That meant chowder for dinner, a dish he particularly
+detested. He made a wry mouth and turned to the larder, but could
+discover nothing but some cold fish and fried potatoes. The fire had
+gone out, and he determined to await Filippo's return before
+breakfasting.</p>
+
+<p>Deliberately scratching a match, he lighted a cigarette, thereby
+breaking the rule against smoking in the cabin. Then he stretched
+himself out on his bunk and began reading <i>The Three Musketeers</i>.
+Filippo returned before he had finished his chapter. The Italian's eyes
+grew round at the tobacco smoke.</p>
+
+<p>"You know Misser Jim say no smoking!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mister Jim isn't here now. You mind your own business and I'll mind
+mine. Get me some breakfast, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fire gone out while you sleep and everything grow cold. You bring some
+wood and I build another."</p>
+
+<p>To Percy's still overstrained nerves Filippo's way of putting the matter
+suggested a condition on which the meal depended rather than a request.</p>
+
+<p>"Bring it yourself!" he growled. "I'm no servant! I don't shag kindling
+for any Dago!"</p>
+
+<p>At this insult Filippo's olive cheeks became quite pale. Into his eyes
+flashed a look Whittington had never seen there before. For an instant
+he almost feared that the young foreigner was about to seize<span class='pagenum'><a name="page118" id="page118">[Pg 118]</a></span> a knife
+and spring upon him. Then the look passed and Filippo's color came back.</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" he laughed. "No wood, no breakfast!"</p>
+
+<p>Stepping out to the fish-house, he began shelling the clams he had just
+dug. Percy vacillated between pride and hunger. Hunger won.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image10.jpg" width="320" height="352" alt="image10" title="Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"I didn't mean that, Filippo," he repented. "I beg your pardon. I'll get
+the wood."</p>
+
+<p>He did, and Filippo heated up the fish and potatoes. Percy tried to
+engage him in conversation,<span class='pagenum'><a name="page119" id="page119">[Pg 119]</a></span> but was able to extract only monosyllables
+in return. Evidently his hasty words still rankled in the Italian's
+breast.</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast over, Percy took his book and started for the beacon. It was a
+beautiful July morning. The sea rippled blue and sparkling to the
+horizon. Budge was hauling his traps on the ledges around the base of
+Brimstone. A half-mile farther out Jim and Throppy were busy at their
+trawls. Conditions for fishing could not have been more ideal.</p>
+
+<p>For a time Percy tried to read; but somehow Dumas's heroes failed to
+keep his interest. The sense of contrast between his own idleness and
+his mates' industry took all the pleasure out of his book. He tossed it
+aside and stood up. A motor-boat was rounding the eastern point. Percy
+recognized her as the <i>Calista</i>. Ordinarily he would have been glad to
+exchange chaff with Captain Higgins and Brad while they dipped the
+lobsters out of the car. This morning, however, he felt too much
+disgruntled to joke with anybody.</p>
+
+<p>A hawk with a flapping fish clutched in its talons scaled in from the
+south and disappeared among the evergreens. Percy suspected that there
+was a nest somewhere in the scrub growth. The search for it promised
+just enough of novelty to keep him interested. Making a detour around
+the north shore, so as to keep out of sight of Captain Higgins, he began
+hunting for the nest in the tops of the low trees.</p>
+
+<p>Two hours went by fruitlessly. It was hot and breathless in the close
+woods. Despite his dislike for clam chowder, Percy found himself
+growing<span class='pagenum'><a name="page120" id="page120">[Pg 120]</a></span> hungry. At last he gave up the search in disgust, and started
+back for camp by the shortest route.</p>
+
+<p>As he emerged into the cool breeze on the summit of the high southern
+shore he saw that the <i>Calista</i> still lay at anchor in the cove. Lane
+was alongside her in the pea-pod, while Jim and Throppy were rounding
+Brimstone Point in the <i>Barracouta</i>, with the dory in tow. The keenness
+of Percy's appetite made him careless of whether he was seen or not. He
+took the trail leading along the edge of the pasture. Directly below him
+the bank broke off in an abrupt dirt slope seventy-five feet high,
+overhung by a brow of sagging turf.</p>
+
+<p>Behind and above the cabin the slope was unusually steep. As Percy
+reached this point his eye was caught by a smoke-feather on the southern
+horizon. Steamers always interested him. Stopping, and shading his eyes
+with his hand, he gazed intently at the distant vessel. The <i>Barracouta</i>
+was now just entering the cove; the thudding of her exhaust echoed
+loudly against the barrier of earth beneath his feet.</p>
+
+<p>The rapid detonations, beating upon Percy's ear-drums, drowned until too
+late the quick pad-pad of hoofs from the opposite direction. Engrossed
+in watching the steamer, he had forgotten everything else. A nasal,
+threatening bleat, rising suddenly behind, roused him to a sense of
+danger. He whirled about.</p>
+
+<p>Charging straight at him, head down, only a few feet distant, old Aries,
+the ram, spurned the turf with drumming hoofs.</p>
+
+<p>Behind lay the treeless pasture; in front the bank<span class='pagenum'><a name="page121" id="page121">[Pg 121]</a></span> fell away steeply.
+Instant flight along the trail was Percy's only resort. He turned to
+run.</p>
+
+<p>As he jammed his heel down hard to gain momentum for his start, the
+overhanging sod broke suddenly. His foot slumped, and before he could
+recover himself his foe was upon him.</p>
+
+<p>Biff!</p>
+
+<p>Struck from behind with the force of a battering-ram, Percy shot over
+the brink. As he fell he described a partial somersault, landing on
+hands and knees half-way down the slope. His momentum carried him heels
+over head, and he rolled and tumbled the rest of the way, bringing up in
+a heap at the bottom.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image11.jpg" width="320" height="126" alt="image11" title="Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p>He scrambled to his feet, wild with rage. Peals of mirth from the cove
+reached his ears. His mates and Captain Higgins, as soon as they saw
+that he was not seriously hurt, had doubled up with laughter. Their
+outburst of merriment increased Percy's fury.</p>
+
+<p>A triumphant bleat resounded above. Outlined clearly against a
+background of blue sky, legs well apart and hoofs braced stoutly, Aries
+stood on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="page122" id="page122">[Pg 122]</a></span> brink, gazing proudly down upon his overthrown enemy.
+White with wrath, Percy groped for a stone and launched it viciously. It
+just grazed the ram's head. The laughter from the cove redoubled.</p>
+
+<p>A new idea struck Percy. Darting into the cabin, he ran out with Uncle
+Tom's shot-gun.</p>
+
+<p>"None of that, Whittington!" bellowed Spurling.</p>
+
+<p>Heedless of the shouted command, Percy clapped the gun to his shoulder
+and pulled first one trigger and then the other. Click! Click! Both
+barrels were empty. He might have remembered that so careful a fellow as
+Jim would never leave a loaded gun standing about. But there were a
+half-dozen shells in a box on the shelf. Laying the gun down, he rushed
+back into the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling realized what Percy was after. Springing into the dory, he
+sculled rapidly to the beach. He had almost reached the shore when
+Whittington dashed out of the door with the shells in his hands. He
+crammed two into the breech, while the ram gazed haughtily down upon
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Put that gun down!" shouted Jim as the dory grounded and he leaped out
+on the beach.</p>
+
+<p>Up went the weapon to Percy's shoulder. His finger sought the trigger,
+but no report followed. The ram had vanished and the sky-line was
+unbroken.</p>
+
+<p>Before the exasperated lad could decide on his next step Jim was at his
+side, clutching at stock and barrel with strong hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Give it to me!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a short scuffle, and the gun was wrenched from Percy's grasp.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page123" id="page123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Let me alone, Spurling! I'll kill that brute before he's ten minutes
+older!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no, you won't!" replied Jim, coolly.</p>
+
+<p>Breaking open the weapon, he extracted the shells and dropped them into
+his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"How many of these did you bring out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never you mind!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, I know how many I had. I can count 'em. They're too dangerous
+to be lying around loose where a hothead like you can get hold of 'em."</p>
+
+<p>He took the gun into the cabin. In half a minute he was out again.</p>
+
+<p>"Two missing! Hand 'em over, Whittington!"</p>
+
+<p>"I won't!"</p>
+
+<p>Three steps, marvelously quick for so deliberate a fellow, brought
+Spurling to the other's side. An iron grip compressed Percy's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you give 'em to me or shall I have to take 'em? Say quick!"</p>
+
+<p>The strong, unwavering grasp brought Whittington to his senses.
+Thrusting his hand into his pocket, he brought out the shells. "Here
+they are!"</p>
+
+<p>Jim bestowed them carefully inside his coat. His manner changed
+instantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Percy," said he, "pull yourself together! I don't wonder you were
+sore at the ram. What you got was enough to rile anybody; it would have
+set me hunting rocks myself. But you'll have to draw the line a long way
+this side of a gun. You can't blame the brute; it's his nature. And you
+can't blame us for laughing&mdash;we couldn't help it; you'd do the same in
+our place. The thing's over<span class='pagenum'><a name="page124" id="page124">[Pg 124]</a></span> now. Forget it! Let's eat a good dinner,
+and all take hold on the fish this afternoon. We've made a whopping big
+catch, not much under three thousand pounds, I should say&mdash;enough, at
+any rate, to keep us all busy till dark. Let's bury the hatchet, handle
+and all, so deep that it'll never be dug up again! Shake on it!"</p>
+
+<p>Whittington ignored Jim's outstretched hand. Trembling with humiliation
+and anger, he had all he could do to keep the tears from his eyes.
+Turning away without replying, he walked eastward along the beach to the
+ledges. He clambered over these until he gained a spot out of sight of
+the cove, then threw himself down to think. His hunger had disappeared;
+food would have choked him.</p>
+
+<p>There he lay till the middle of the afternoon, smoking moodily. When he
+returned to camp at three he had decided on his course of action.</p>
+
+<p>All the others were aboard the <i>Barracouta</i>, at work on the fish.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling hailed Percy. "Want to lend a hand, Whittington?"</p>
+
+<p>"No!" refused Percy, shortly.</p>
+
+<p>Entering the cabin, he made a dry lunch on cold biscuit and
+soda-crackers, then threw himself on his bunk and began reading. The
+afternoon dragged on. At five Filippo came in and began to peel potatoes
+and slice ham for supper; soon they were frying in the spider. The smell
+was pleasant in Percy's nostrils.</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later in came the others, tired and hungry. The fish had
+been finished. All sat down at the table, Percy, uninvited, drawing up
+his soap-<span class='pagenum'><a name="page125" id="page125">[Pg 125]</a></span>box with the rest. Nobody said anything to him, but he ate
+with a relish.</p>
+
+<p>The meal over, Spurling turned to him with a serious face. It was plain
+he had something of importance on his mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Whittington," said he, "I've been talking matters over with Budge and
+Throppy, and we're all agreed it's time we came to an understanding.
+Things can't go on in this way any longer. To put the matter in a
+nutshell, we can't afford to have you living off us and not working.
+You've got to do your share or quit. That's all there is to it."</p>
+
+<p>Percy reddened with wrath. Nobody but John P. Whittington had ever dared
+to speak like that to him before.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by making such talk to me?" he demanded. "You needn't
+be afraid but you'll be well paid for every meal I've eaten in this old
+shack!"</p>
+
+<p>"That isn't the point at all," said Spurling. "I gave your father fair
+warning what it would be when you came out here. We're not running any
+Waldorf!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy gave a derisive laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"And that's no dream!" he interjected, sarcastically.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling paid no attention to the interruption.</p>
+
+<p>"We're out here for work," he continued. "That means you as well as
+everybody else. I didn't count on you for much, but you haven't done
+even that."</p>
+
+<p>"I've known for the last week you were trying to freeze me out,"
+observed Percy. "It's been cold enough about this camp to make ice."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page126" id="page126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, whose fault has it been?"</p>
+
+<p>"You treat that little Dago better than you do me!"</p>
+
+<p>"What of it? He's earning his salt, and a good deal more; and that's
+something your best friend couldn't accuse you of doing."</p>
+
+<p>Percy's temper was fast getting the better of him.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to stop here to be kicked round by a bunch of Rubes like
+you," he snarled. "I won't stand for it any longer. I'll give you ten
+dollars to set me over on Matinicus to-night."</p>
+
+<p>There was a dangerous flicker in Spurling's eyes, but his voice was
+steady.</p>
+
+<p>"You can go, and welcome, on our next trip, day after to-morrow; but we
+can't break into our regular work to set you across."</p>
+
+<p>"No? Say twenty, then! And that's nowhere near what it'd be worth to me
+to be shut of you and your whole gang!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm beginning to think I did wrong in stopping that fight at Vinalhaven
+yesterday. Guess you needed all you got and more, too!"</p>
+
+<p>In Percy's wrathful condition the reference to the pummeling he had
+received from Jabe came like a dash of acid in a raw wound. A flood of
+fury swept away his judgment.</p>
+
+<p>"You beggar!" he shouted. "You dollar-squeezer! I'll teach you to talk
+to me, you&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>He flung himself on Spurling with clenched fists.</p>
+
+<p>So sudden and unexpected was the onslaught that there was but one thing
+for Jim to do, and he did it, expeditiously and accurately. Percy went
+over<span class='pagenum'><a name="page127" id="page127">[Pg 127]</a></span> backward and fell like a log. For a moment he lay motionless, then
+staggered up, feeling of his face.</p>
+
+<p>"What hit me?" he inquired, dazedly.</p>
+
+<p>"I did&mdash;right on the point of the jaw. Sorry I had to. Feel better?"</p>
+
+<p>Percy made no reply. Walking unsteadily to his bunk, he lay down. There
+was no violin-playing in the cabin that night.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page128" id="page128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XI</h2>
+
+<h3>TURN OF TIDE</h3>
+
+<p>At half past eight that night Camp Spurling was dark and quiet.
+Everybody was asleep but Percy Whittington. He lay in his bunk, wide
+awake and thinking hard, and his thoughts were far from pleasant.</p>
+
+<p>His face was still sore as a result of his battle with Jabe. His jaw
+ached dully from its encounter with Jim Spurling's fist. But worse than
+any physical pain was the smart of his wounded pride.</p>
+
+<p>Life in that cramped, tarry, fishy cabin was hard enough for a fellow
+who had lived at the best hotels and had the cream of everything. This
+painful wrenching of dollars out of the sea told sorely on his tender
+skin and undeveloped muscles. Yet beneath the surface he had enough of
+his father's stubbornness to make him stick doggedly to his lot,
+<ins class="correction" title="Original: disagreable">disagreeable</ins> though it was, if only he could have felt that he was
+receiving the consideration due to the son of John P. Whittington.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling's blow was the straw that had broken the camel's back. Percy
+had endured it just as long as he could. He had reached his <ins class="correction" title="Original: no full stop">limit.</ins></p>
+
+<p>"I hate the whole bunch," he thought, bitterly. "Everybody's down on me,
+even to the dog. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="page129" id="page129">[Pg 129]</a></span> won't stand it any longer. I'm going to get out
+to-night."</p>
+
+<p>His mind once made up, he promptly began planning. He decided to take
+one of the boats and row up to Isle au Haut. It was a good ten miles to
+Head Harbor, but he felt confident he could reach it long before
+daybreak. Leaving the boat there, he would tramp six miles up the island
+and catch the early steamer for Stonington. Beyond that his plans did
+not go.</p>
+
+<p>A flicker of light from the dying fire in the stove fell on the face of
+the alarm-clock ticking tinnily on the shelf. It was quarter to nine.</p>
+
+<p>Percy woke to the need of acting at once. At midnight Filippo would get
+up to make coffee and warm the baked beans and corn-bread for Spurling
+and Stevens, who were to start for the hake-grounds not far from one. By
+that time he must be miles away&mdash;too far, at any rate, to be overtaken.
+Overtaken? He smiled sardonically. Not one of them, he knew, would lift
+a finger to prevent him from going. He could just as well set out in the
+daytime. But his pride shrank from the relieved faces and grudging
+farewells that would signalize his departure. No; it would be far better
+to slip away by night, without saying anything to anybody. But his going
+must be unobserved. It would be humiliating to be detected.</p>
+
+<p>Cautiously he crept out of his bunk and pulled on his clothes, stopping
+apprehensively to listen for the regular breathing of his sleeping
+mates. But no one woke. The dying embers snapped in the stove. Nemo,
+slumbering on his canvas, stirred uneasily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page130" id="page130">[Pg 130]</a></span> Yet, so stealthy were
+Percy's movements, not even the dog's keen ears telegraphed them to his
+alert brain.</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes sufficed for the deserter to dress and crowd his more
+valuable belongings into a suit-case. Noiselessly he lifted the latch
+and stepped outside.</p>
+
+<p>It was a lovely summer night. A southwest breeze barely rippled the
+sheet of sapphire under the radiant stars. Tiny wavelets broke crisply
+on the pebbled beach. From the boulders that fringed the point came the
+drowsy murmur of the surf. A sheep bleated plaintively high above in the
+pasture; while far over the ocean to the south floated the faint, weird
+cry of a gull.</p>
+
+<p>The tide was more than half down, and dory and pea-pod lay high and dry
+on the shingle. The sloop rode at her mooring in the cove. Percy
+hesitated. Her engine would take him to Head Harbor in less than two
+hours, and save him a long, hard row. But no. Her absence would
+interfere seriously with pulling the trawls and lose Spurling &amp; Company
+a good many dollars. Bitter though his feelings were, he did not wish to
+cause financial loss. He decided on the pea-pod.</p>
+
+<p>Ten feet of gravel lay between her stern and the water. Grasping her
+gunwale, Percy dragged her inch by inch gratingly down over the shingle,
+every sound magnified to his ears by his dread of discovery. He worked
+with the caution of an escaping convict. Now and then he glanced
+nervously toward the cabin, but from its gloomy interior came no sign
+that he was seen or heard. Apparently Spurling<span class='pagenum'><a name="page131" id="page131">[Pg 131]</a></span> and his mates were
+sleeping the sleep of the dead. At the end of five minutes the pea-pod
+was afloat.</p>
+
+<p>Percy tossed in his suit-case and clambered hastily aboard. There was no
+time to waste. He wished to put as much salt water as possible between
+himself and Tarpaulin Island before midnight.</p>
+
+<p>Shipping his oars, he began to row, using infinite care lest creaking
+rowlock or splashing blade betray him. Gradually he drew out of the
+cove, and there was less need of caution. As he rounded Brimstone Point
+he cast one last, long look at the cabin, square and black and silent.</p>
+
+<p>The remembrance of his discomforts and indignities of the last three
+weeks surged over him. He shook his fist at his vanishing prison.</p>
+
+<p>"Good riddance!" he muttered. "Hope I'll never set eyes again on you or
+the bunch inside you!"</p>
+
+<p>He bent to his oars with redoubled vigor, and presently a high boulder
+shut out the camp. In five minutes more he had rounded the point and was
+pulling north on the heaving Atlantic swell.</p>
+
+<p>The tide was running out strongly. It came swirling round Brimstone in
+rips and eddies. Percy had never before realized that its force was so
+great. He made a hasty calculation, and was very unpleasantly surprised
+to discover that he would have to pull against it for fully ninety
+minutes ere it turned to run the other way. He began to feel less sure
+of reaching Head Harbor before daybreak.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess I've bitten off an all-night job," thought he, disconsolately.</p>
+
+<p>But there was no help for it&mdash;unless he desired<span class='pagenum'><a name="page132" id="page132">[Pg 132]</a></span> to slink back to the
+camp he had just abandoned with such thief-like stealth. Percy set his
+teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"Not while I've got arms to pull with!"</p>
+
+<p>Before buckling to his task he glanced about. On his left rose the
+familiar shores of Tarpaulin. Miles to his right and almost due west the
+twin lights on Matinicus Rock twinkled faintly across the sea; while
+behind him, a little to the west of north, shone the single star of
+Saddleback, a good four leagues away. The dark-blue summer sky, unmarred
+by the slightest cloud-fleck, was brilliant with constellations.</p>
+
+<p>It was a night of nights for an astronomer or a poet, but Percy was
+neither. He had no eyes for the splendor that overhung him. Ten long,
+watery miles must be traversed before he could beach his pea-pod in the
+little haven behind Eastern Head. Would his arms stand the strain?</p>
+
+<p>His muscles were harder and stronger than they had been in the middle of
+June. Likewise, his grit had strengthened with his physique.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll make Head Harbor before light, if it kills me!"</p>
+
+<p>Turning, he scanned the starry sky, and by means of his scanty knowledge
+of astronomy identified the Great Dipper. Its pointers located the North
+Star. Under it he knew lay Isle au Haut, now a low, black ridge on the
+horizon, east of Saddleback Light.</p>
+
+<p>Percy settled himself on the thwart, steeled his muscles, and gripped
+the oars harder. Short as his inaction had been, he could see that the
+tide had swept him back a trifle. It was going to be no picnic, that
+pull in to Eastern Head!<span class='pagenum'><a name="page133" id="page133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He threw all his strength into his arms, and again the boat made headway
+against the tide. By degrees Tarpaulin Island fell back. Before long it
+lay behind him&mdash;as he planned, forever. His anger still burned hot
+against Spurling and his associates.</p>
+
+<p>"Treated me like a dog, the beggars! Well, who cares for 'em? Let 'em
+sweat out their dollars catching fish and lobsters! I'll get my cash
+some easier way."</p>
+
+<p>The thought of money brought back the memory of his father, and with it
+a faint uneasiness. Up to this time, engrossed in making his escape,
+Percy had not troubled to look beyond the immediate future. Isle au Haut
+had bounded his mental as well as his optical horizon. But after that
+what?</p>
+
+<p>Stonington ... Rockland ... Boston ... New York ... two months of living
+on his acquaintances ... and then&mdash;John P. Whittington!</p>
+
+<p>Percy could picture the expression on the millionaire's features when he
+learned that his son had broken his promise and sneaked away from
+Tarpaulin Island, like a thief in the night. That grim face with its
+bulldog jaw was one any erring son well might dread, and particularly
+such a son as he had thus far been. John Whittington had told Percy
+plainly that the island was his last chance, and, whatever faults the
+millionaire might have, he was not the man to break his word.</p>
+
+<p>For the young deserter it was liable to be out of the frying-pan and
+into the fire with a vengeance.</p>
+
+<p>Percy had been in the frying-pan three weeks; life there, though not
+pleasant, had been endurable.</p>
+
+<p>At any rate, he had seen the worst of it; but for<span class='pagenum'><a name="page134" id="page134">[Pg 134]</a></span> his wounded pride, he
+could have schooled himself to withstand its hardships, for they would
+have been only temporary.</p>
+
+<p>What the fire might have in store for him he did not know; but one thing
+he did know, and that was John P. Whittington!</p>
+
+<p>Not unimaginably, there might be far worse places than Tarpaulin Island.</p>
+
+<p>The lad's elation at his easily earned freedom vanished. The snap and
+vim went out of his strokes, and his speed slackened perceptibly. Though
+he still dragged doggedly at the oars, there was no longer any heart in
+his pulling.</p>
+
+<p>Westward, almost in line with the beacon on Matinicus Rock, grew a fairy
+pyramid of twinkling lights&mdash;the Portland boat, bound for St. John.
+Larger, higher, brighter, nearer, until they burned, a sparkling
+triangle of white and red and green. Soon the steamer crossed his bow
+not far to the north. He could hear the rush of foam and the throbbing
+of her screw. Gradually she passed eastward and blended again with the
+horizon.</p>
+
+<p>Slower and weaker fell Percy's blades, until the pea-pod was barely
+moving. The ebb, still running against the boat with undiminished
+strength, almost sufficed to hold her stationary. But, though the lad's
+muscles were relaxed and listless, a fierce battle was being fought out
+in his troubled brain.</p>
+
+<p>Should he keep on or should he go back?</p>
+
+<p>Go back? Return to two months more of the uncongenial drudgery from
+which he had been so glad to escape? Besides, he could hardly hope to
+drag the pea-pod up on the beach and regain his<span class='pagenum'><a name="page135" id="page135">[Pg 135]</a></span> bunk without attracting
+the notice of somebody in the cabin. He could imagine the talk of the
+others when he was out of hearing.</p>
+
+<p>"Started to run away, but got cold feet and sneaked back again. Hadn't
+the sand to carry it through! We'd better sack him when the four weeks
+are up."</p>
+
+<p>His futile midnight sally would only result in added humiliation.</p>
+
+<p>But what if he kept on? Already more than an hour had passed. It would
+not be many minutes now before the tide would turn. The ebb would cease
+running out, and the flood would set just as strongly the other way,
+bearing him in toward Isle au Haut. To row with it would be an easy
+matter.</p>
+
+<p>Head Harbor before daybreak. Boston or New York the morning after. Two
+months or more of easy living in the same old way. After that the
+deluge, <i>alias</i> John P. Whittington.</p>
+
+<p>Isle au Haut or Tarpaulin Island, which should it be? Beads of sweat
+started on Percy's face as he wrestled out his problem.</p>
+
+<p>Far more was involved than the mere question of going north or south. He
+had come to the parting of the ways. His whole life hung in the balance.
+Floating in that frail skiff on the uneasy swell, he realized that
+everything depended on the direction in which he swung the prow. His
+future lay in his oar-blades.</p>
+
+<p>Under the horizon north and west stretched the coast. He closed his eyes
+and saw a vision of the feverish city life he knew and loved so
+well&mdash;lighted<span class='pagenum'><a name="page136" id="page136">[Pg 136]</a></span> streets thronged with gay crowds, human banks between
+which flowed rivers of velvet-shod automobiles and clanging cars; hotel
+lobbies and theaters and <ins class="correction" title="Original: restuarants">restaurants</ins> alive with men and women who had
+never stooped to toil; all the luxury and glare and glitter that wait
+upon modern wealth. This was what he was fitting himself for. What did
+it all amount to?</p>
+
+<p>He opened his eyes and came back to the little boat, rocking gently on
+the undulating swells; to the lonely glory of the peaceful ocean, arched
+by the starry sky. A light breeze was beginning to blow from the
+southwest, dispersing the thin silver mist that overhung the water.</p>
+
+<p>Percy glanced at his watch; it was quarter past ten, almost time for the
+ebb to cease and the flood to begin.</p>
+
+<p>Should he keep on or go back? He must decide quickly. Already his arms
+were tired, and he was more than two miles north of the island. The
+longer he delayed his decision the harder would be his pull against the
+flood if he turned.</p>
+
+<p>Minutes passed as he pondered, barely dipping his oars. It was slack
+tide now and the pea-pod just held her own. Down on the breeze floated a
+distant, melancholy note, the voice of the whistling buoy south of
+Roaring Bull Ledge, two miles from Isle au Haut. Was it an invitation or
+a warning?</p>
+
+<p>Slowly at first, then faster, the stern of the boat swung round. The
+tide had turned. The flood would carry him north with but little effort
+on his part. Should he let himself go with it?</p>
+
+<p>Percy's indecision vanished. The tide of his own<span class='pagenum'><a name="page137" id="page137">[Pg 137]</a></span> life had turned, like
+that of the ocean; slow and doubtful though the change had been, the
+current was at last setting the other way. Grasping the oar-handles
+tightly, he whirled the head of the pea-pod southward and started again
+for Tarpaulin Island.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page138" id="page138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XII</h2>
+
+<h3>PULLING TOGETHER</h3>
+
+<p>The next hour and a half was anything but fun for young Whittington. His
+mind was set on reaching Camp Spurling before the hands of the
+alarm-clock came together at midnight. At any cost he must be in his
+bunk before the others woke.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long, hard row, a battle every second with the tide running
+against him with untiring strength. It demanded every ounce of energy
+Percy possessed. His back complained dully. His arms felt as if they
+would drop off. Time and again he decided that the next stroke must be
+his last, that he must lie down in the bottom of the boat and rest; but
+each time he tapped some hitherto unknown reservoir of power within
+himself, and kept on pulling.</p>
+
+<p>With the stern demand on his physical forces a change was being wrought
+in his brain. His foolish pride, his false sense of shame at changing
+his hasty plan to desert, his bitter feeling toward the others,
+gradually disappeared. Every oar-stroke brought him not only nearer the
+island, but also nearer a sane, wholesome view of life itself.</p>
+
+<p>His thoughts turned naturally to the group at the camp, this clean,
+independent, self-respecting crowd, who cared no more for his money than
+for<span class='pagenum'><a name="page139" id="page139">[Pg 139]</a></span> the pebbles on the beach; who estimated a fellow, not by what he
+had, but by what he was. After all, that was the real test; Percy could
+not help acknowledging it.</p>
+
+<p>Saddleback glimmered astern. The whistle south of Roaring Bull was
+growing fainter. Percy felt encouraged. He turned his head. Yes,
+Tarpaulin was certainly nearer. Disheartening though the pull was, he
+had gained perceptibly. But the southwest breeze had stiffened, adding
+its opposition to that of the tide.</p>
+
+<p>It was now past eleven. He had decided that he must reach the cabin not
+later than quarter to twelve. Barely half an hour longer! His hands were
+blistered, his breath came in sobs, but he dragged fiercely at the oars.
+At last he was stemming the strong tide-rip off Brimstone Point.</p>
+
+<p>The next ten minutes were worse than all that had gone before. As he
+surged unevenly backward and forward, the current swung the pea-pod's
+bow first one way, then the other. Deaf and blind to everything but the
+work in hand, Percy swayed to and fro. Foot by foot the boat crept round
+the fringing surf at the base of the bluffs.</p>
+
+<p>Hands seemed to be plucking at her keel, holding her back. It was no
+use. They were too strong for him. All at once their grasp weakened. He
+glanced up with swimming eyes. He had passed the eddy, and the entrance
+of the cove was near. A few strokes more and the pea-pod grounded on the
+beach. It was twenty minutes to twelve!</p>
+
+<p>Percy staggered up to the cabin. All was dark and quiet. Gently lifting
+the latch, he slipped in<span class='pagenum'><a name="page140" id="page140">[Pg 140]</a></span>side, pulled the door to again, and stood
+listening. The regular breathing of his sleeping mates reassured him.
+Compelling himself to walk noiselessly to his bunk, he crept under his
+blanket without even taking off his shoes.</p>
+
+<p>He had been gone three hours; and they had been the most momentous hours
+of his life.</p>
+
+<p><i>Kling-ng-ng-ng-ng ...</i></p>
+
+<p>Off went the clock. It was midnight. Muttering drowsily, Filippo slid
+out of his bunk, checked the alarm, and lighted a lamp. Then he busied
+himself with his cooking-utensils.</p>
+
+<p>The last thing Percy heard was a spoon clinking against a pan. Dead
+tired, he turned his face to the wall and fell asleep.</p>
+
+<p>It was eight in the morning before he woke. What had made his arms and
+back so lame and raised those big blisters on his hands? Percy
+remembered. He lay for a few minutes, his eyes shut. An unpleasant duty
+was before him, and he must be sure to do it right.</p>
+
+<p>Aching in every joint, he rolled out at last and stood up stiffly.
+Filippo, who was washing the breakfast dishes, turned at the sound. His
+face was neither hostile nor friendly.</p>
+
+<p>"Your breakfast in oven," said he. "Sit down and I get it."</p>
+
+<p>He set before Percy a plate of smothered cod and a half-dozen hot
+biscuits. It was more thoughtfulness than Percy had expected.</p>
+
+<p>"Much obliged, Filippo," he said, gratefully.</p>
+
+<p>Filippo made no reply to this acknowledgment; but, as Percy ate, he
+could feel the young Italian<span class='pagenum'><a name="page141" id="page141">[Pg 141]</a></span> watching him curiously. It was the first
+time Whittington had ever thanked him, and he did not understand it.</p>
+
+<p>After he had finished eating, Percy took his plate, knife, and fork to
+the sink.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me wash these, Filippo," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"No," returned the Italian, "I do it."</p>
+
+<p>But a look of surprise crossed his face. What had come over the
+millionaire's son?</p>
+
+<p>Percy spent the rest of the forenoon on the ledges. At noon he came back
+to the cabin. He had steeled himself for the task before him, and he was
+not the fellow to do things half-way. The John P. Whittington in him was
+coming out.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody else was in camp when he stepped inside. Lane did not look at
+him at all. Spurling and Stevens nodded coolly. Percy drew a long breath
+and launched at once into the brief speech he had spent the last three
+hours dreading.</p>
+
+<p>"Fellows," he stammered, "I've been pretty rotten to all of you. There's
+no need of wasting any more words about that. Last night I took one of
+the boats and started to row up to Isle au Haut. But I got to thinking
+matters over out there on the water, and it changed my mind about a lot
+of things. So I came back. Jim, I want to apologize to you for what I
+said last night. I deserved what you gave me, and it's done me good. I
+want to stay here with you for the rest of the summer&mdash;if you're
+willing. I'll try to do my full share of the work. You can send me off
+the first time I shirk."</p>
+
+<p>He ceased and awaited the verdict, looking eagerly from one to the
+other. There was a moment of<span class='pagenum'><a name="page142" id="page142">[Pg 142]</a></span> silence. Surprise was written large on the
+faces of the three Academy men. Then Spurling stepped forward and held
+out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Percy," said he, with a break in his voice, "I've always thought you
+had the right stuff in you, if you'd only give yourself half a chance.
+For one, I'll be more than pleased to have you stop. What do you say,
+boys?"</p>
+
+<p>He glanced toward Lane and Stevens.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure!" exclaimed Lane, heartily; and Stevens seconded him.</p>
+
+<p>The boys shook hands all round; and they sat down to the table with good
+appetites. Everybody enjoyed the meal.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys," said Jim as they got up at its close, "this is the best dinner
+we've had since we came out here."</p>
+
+<p>Percy's heart warmed toward the speaker. He knew that it was not the
+food alone that made Jim say what he did.</p>
+
+<p>It had been Percy's habit to smoke three or four cigarettes during the
+half-hour of rest all were accustomed to take after the noon meal. He
+went, as usual, to his suit-case, and this time took out, not merely one
+package, but all he had, including his sack of loose tobacco and two
+books of wrappers.</p>
+
+<p>"Got a good fire, Filippo?" he inquired, approaching the stove.</p>
+
+<p>A burst of flame answered him as he lifted the cover. In went the whole
+handful. He watched it burn for a moment before dropping the lid.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm done with you for good," he said.</p>
+
+<p>As Lane and Spurling started for the <i>Barracouta</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="page143" id="page143">[Pg 143]</a></span> to dress the fifteen
+hundred pounds of hake they had taken off the trawls that morning Percy
+joined them, clad in oilskins.</p>
+
+<p>"Jim," he petitioned, "I want you to teach me how to split fish."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean it, Percy?" asked Spurling.</p>
+
+<p>"You heard what I said this noon about shirking. I'm through with
+dodging any kind of work just because it's unpleasant. I want to take my
+part with the rest of you."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll teach you," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>He did, and found that he had an apt pupil. Percy worked until the last
+pound of the fifteen hundred was salted down in the hogshead. He
+discovered that it was not half so bad as it had looked, and felt
+ashamed that he had not tried his hand at the trick before.</p>
+
+<p>"You've earned your supper to-night," observed Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but I'm glad it's something besides fish."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll get so you won't mind it after a while."</p>
+
+<p>That night Throppy played his violin and the boys sang. They passed a
+pleasant hour before going to bed.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to go out with you to the trawls, Jim, to-morrow morning,"
+said Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Glad to have you," responded Spurling, heartily.</p>
+
+<p>Two hours before light they were gliding out of the cove in the
+<i>Barracouta</i>, bound for Medrick Shoal, four miles to the eastward.</p>
+
+<p>"Percy," said Jim as the sloop rolled rhythmically on the long Atlantic
+swells, "I want to tell you something. I was awake the other night when
+you<span class='pagenum'><a name="page144" id="page144">[Pg 144]</a></span> left camp. I watched you row north and come back; and I saw the
+hard fight you had round Brimstone. I'm glad you made a clean breast of
+the whole thing, even when you thought nobody knew anything about it. It
+showed me you intended to turn over a new leaf and play fair. You'll
+find that we'll meet you half-way, and more."</p>
+
+<p>Percy was silent for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Glad I didn't know you heard me go out," he remarked. "If I had I might
+not have had the courage to come back. Well, I've learned my lesson.
+From now on I'll try not to give you fellows any reason to find fault
+with me."</p>
+
+<p>Medrick Shoal yielded a good harvest. About eighteen hundred pounds of
+hake lay in the pens on the <i>Barracouta</i> when they started for home at
+ten o'clock. As they took the last of their gear aboard, a schooner with
+auxiliary power, apparently a fisherman, approached from the eastward.</p>
+
+<p>"The <i>Cassie J.</i>," read Spurling, deciphering the letters on the bow.
+"Somehow she looks natural, but I don't remember ever hearing that name
+before. Probably from Gloucester. Wonder what she wants of us."</p>
+
+<p>The vessel slowed down and changed her course until she was running
+straight toward the <i>Barracouta</i>. One of her crew stood in the bow, near
+the starboard anchor; another held the wheel; but nobody else was
+visible.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you from, boys?" hailed the lookout, when the stranger was
+only a few yards off.</p>
+
+<p>"Tarpaulin Island," answered Spurling.</p>
+
+<p>The man put his hand behind his ear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page145" id="page145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Say that again louder, will you?" he shouted. "I'm a little deaf."</p>
+
+<p>Jim raised his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I said we were from Tarpaulin Island."</p>
+
+<p>The lookout passed the word back to the helms-man. The latter repeated
+it, evidently for the benefit of somebody in the cabin. Then the man at
+the wheel took up the conversation, prompted by the low voice of an
+unseen speaker below.</p>
+
+<p>"How many fish have you got there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eighteen hundred of hake."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?"</p>
+
+<p>Was everybody aboard hard of hearing? Jim raised his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Eighteen hundred of hake!"</p>
+
+<p>"What'll you take for 'em just as they are? We'll give you fifty cents a
+hundred."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't trade with you for any such figure as that."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by, then!"</p>
+
+<p>The tip of the <i>Cassie J.'s</i> bowsprit was less than two yards from the
+port bow of the <i>Barracouta</i>, altogether too near for comfort.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep off!" roared Spurling. "You'll run us down!"</p>
+
+<p>The steersman whirled his wheel swiftly in the apparent endeavor to
+avert a collision. Unluckily, he whirled it the wrong way. Round swung
+the schooner's bow, directly toward the sloop. A few seconds more and
+she would be forced down beneath the larger vessel's cutwater, ridden
+under.</p>
+
+<p>Only Jim's coolness prevented the catastrophe. The instant he saw the
+<i>Cassie J.</i> turn toward his boat he flung his helm to port. The sloop,
+under<span class='pagenum'><a name="page146" id="page146">[Pg 146]</a></span> good headway, responded more quickly than the schooner. For a
+moment the bowsprit of the latter seesawed threateningly along the
+jibstay of the smaller craft. Then the two drew apart.</p>
+
+<p>Jim was white with anger. It was only by the greatest good fortune that
+the <i>Barracouta</i> had escaped.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, you lubber?" he cried. "Can't you steer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Jingo! but that was a close shave!" responded the man at the wheel. "I
+must have lost my head for a minute."</p>
+
+<p>The mock concern in his face and voice would have been evident to
+Spurling without the lurking grin that accompanied his reply. An angry
+answer was on the tip of Jim's tongue. He choked it down. Soon the two
+craft were some distance apart.</p>
+
+<p>On the <i>Cassie J.</i> a man's head rose stealthily above the slide of the
+companionway. He fastened a steady gaze on the sloop. The distance was
+now too great for the boys to distinguish his features, but a sudden
+idea struck Jim. He slapped his thigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Percy!" he exclaimed. "Do you remember the two fellows we caught
+stealing sheep the first night we were on Tarpaulin? I feel sure as ever
+I was of anything in my life that they're both on board that schooner.
+That's Captain Bart Brittler, sticking his head out of the companionway;
+and Dolph's somewhere below."</p>
+
+<p>"But what are they doing on the <i>Cassie J.</i>? Their vessel was named the
+<i>Silicon.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"They're one and the same craft! I'm certain of it. I recognize her rig
+now, even if it was night<span class='pagenum'><a name="page147" id="page147">[Pg 147]</a></span> when I saw her the first time. As for the
+name, it's only paint-deep, anyway; you can see that those letters look
+fresh. Of course it's an offense against the law to make a change, but
+such a little thing as breaking a law wouldn't trouble a man like
+Brittler."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think they tried to run us down?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a doubt of it! Brittler and Dolph stayed below, afraid we might
+recognize 'em. They didn't see our faces that night, so they don't know
+how we look; but they tried to make me talk enough so that they might
+recognize my voice. Guess that lookout's not so deaf as he pretended to
+be! Once Brittler felt sure who it was, he gave orders to the wheelman
+to run over us. He'd have done it, too, if I hadn't seen the schooner's
+bow <ins class="correction" title="Original: stast">start</ins> swinging the wrong way."</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Cassie J.</i> slowly outdistanced the sloop. By the time the stranger
+was a quarter-mile off six or seven men had appeared on her deck.</p>
+
+<p>"Feel it's safe for 'em to come up now," commented Spurling. "Wonder
+what they're cruising along the coast for, anyway! Something easier and
+more crooked than fishing, I guess! Here's hoping they steer clear of
+Tarpaulin!"</p>
+
+<p>At dinner that noon the boys related their narrow escape to the others,
+and all agreed it would be well to keep a sharp lookout for Brittler and
+his gang.</p>
+
+<p>"They've got a grudge against us, fast enough," said Lane. "They intend
+to even matters up if they can find the chance."</p>
+
+<p>That afternoon Percy again wielded the splitting-knife.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll soon get the knack of it," approved Jim.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page148" id="page148">[Pg 148]</a></span> "Don't pitch in too
+hard at first. Later on, after you grow used to it, you can work twice
+as fast, and it won't tire you half so much."</p>
+
+<p>In dressing a fifteen-pound hake Percy came upon a mass of feathers in
+the stomach. He was about to throw them aside, when a silvery glint
+caught his eye.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>Rinsing the mass in a pail of water, he picked from it the foot of a
+bird; round its slender ankle was a little band of German silver or
+aluminum, bearing the inscription, "U43719." He held it up for the
+others to inspect.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the foot of a carrier-pigeon!" said Throppy. "I know a fellow at
+home who makes a specialty of raising 'em. The bird that owned this foot
+was taking a message to somebody. Perhaps he was shot; or he may have
+become tired, lost his way, and fallen into the water, and the hake got
+him."</p>
+
+<p>They looked at the little foot with the white-metal band.</p>
+
+<p>"My uncle Tom was fishing once in eighty fathoms off Monhegan," Spurling
+remarked, "and pulled up an odd-patterned, blue cup of old English ware.
+The hook caught in a 'blister,' a brown, soft, toadstool thing, that had
+grown over the cup. He's got it on his parlor mantel now."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll keep this foot as a souvenir," said Percy.</p>
+
+<p>They finished the hake shortly after four. Percy shed his oil-clothes,
+went into the camp, and reappeared with his sweater. Going down to the
+ledges, he pulled off a big armful of rockweed. This he<span class='pagenum'><a name="page149" id="page149">[Pg 149]</a></span> stuffed into
+the sweater, and tied it together, making a close bundle. The others
+watched him curiously.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do with that?" inquired Lane.</p>
+
+<p>Percy smiled, but there was a glitter of determination in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you some time," was all the reply he vouchsafed.</p>
+
+<p>Taking the bundle, now somewhat larger than a football, he climbed the
+steep path at the end of the bank, and started for the woods.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be home before supper," he flung back as he disappeared beyond the
+crest of the bluff.</p>
+
+<p>In less than an hour he was back, bringing the sweater minus the
+rockweed. His face was flushed, and streaked with lines where the
+perspiration had run down it, and he was breathing hard. Evidently he
+had been through some sort of strenuous physical exercise.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right, boys," he said, in response to their chaffing. "Just a
+little secret between me and myself. No, I'm not trying to reduce the
+size of my head. Later on you'll know all about it."</p>
+
+<p>And with that they had to be content.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page150" id="page150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>FOG-BOUND</h3>
+
+<p>Dog-Days began about the 20th of July. Before that the dwellers in Camp
+Spurling had experienced occasional spells of fog, but nothing very
+dense or long-continued. Now they got a taste of the real thing. They
+were dressing fish on the <i>Barracouta</i> one afternoon when a cold wind
+struck from the southeast.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling held up his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"We're in for it!" said he. "Feel that? Right off the Banks! In less
+than an hour we'll need a compass to get ashore in the dory."</p>
+
+<p>He was so nearly right that there was no fun in it. The wind hauled more
+to the east, and in its wake came driving a gray, impenetrable wall. The
+ocean vanished. The points on each side of the cove were swallowed up.
+Quickly disappeared the cove itself, the beach, the camp and fish-house,
+and the bank beyond them. The sloop was blanketed close in heavy mist.</p>
+
+<p>Jim made a pretense of scooping a handful out of the air and shaping it
+like a snowball.</p>
+
+<p>"Here you go, Budge!" he exclaimed. "Straight to third! Put it on him!
+Fresh from the factory in the Bay of Fundy! If this holds on until
+midnight,<span class='pagenum'><a name="page151" id="page151">[Pg 151]</a></span> we won't be able to see outside our eyelids when we start
+trawling; there's no moon."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you go, if it's thick as it is now?" inquired Lane.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure! Here's where the compass comes in. If we stayed ashore for every
+little fog-mull, we wouldn't catch many hake the next six weeks. This
+isn't a circumstance to what it is sometimes. I've known it to hang on
+for two weeks at a stretch. Ever hear the story of the Penobscot Bay
+captain who started out on a voyage round the world? Just as he got
+outside of Matinicus Rock he shaved the edge of a fog-bank, straight up
+and down as a wall. He pulled out his jack-knife and pushed it into the
+fog, clean to the handle. When he came back, two and a half years later,
+there was his knife, sticking in the same spot. He tried to pull it out,
+but the blade was so badly rusted that it broke, and he had to leave
+half of it stuck in the hole."</p>
+
+<p>"Must have had some fog in those days!" was Lane's comment. "Did you say
+this all comes from the Bay of Fundy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not all of it. Fog both blows and makes up on the spot. Sometimes it
+rises out of the water like steam. I've heard my uncle say that Georges
+Bank makes it as a mill makes meal. It's worst in August. Then the smoke
+from shore fires mingles with it; and the wind from the land blowing
+off, and that from the sea blowing in, keep it hazy along the coast all
+summer."</p>
+
+<p>Jim's predictions proved correct, as they generally did. While there
+were occasional stretches of fine weather during the next few weeks, the
+fog either<span class='pagenum'><a name="page152" id="page152">[Pg 152]</a></span> hovered on the horizon or lurked not far below it, ready to
+bury the island at the slightest provocation in the way of an east or
+southeast wind. Despite its presence, the routine of trawling and
+lobstering went on as usual. Every Friday came the regular trip to
+Matinicus to dispose of the salted fish and procure groceries, gasolene,
+and salt, as well as newspapers and mail.</p>
+
+<p>On each of these visits Percy always weighed himself on the scales at
+the general store. Beginning at one hundred and thirty-five, he climbed
+steadily, pound by pound, toward one hundred and fifty. An active,
+out-of-door life, combined with regular hours and a simple, wholesome
+diet, together with the exclusion of cigarettes, resulted inevitably in
+increasing weight and strength. At the close of each afternoon he
+climbed the bluff with his sweater stuffed with rockweed. The others
+joked him considerably about these mysterious trips, but failed to
+extract any information from him regarding them. When he chose, Percy
+could be as close-mouthed as his father.</p>
+
+<p>At about this time a letter from the millionaire reached his son through
+the Matinicus office. It bore the postmark of San Francisco, and ran as
+follows:</p>
+
+<table width="50%" summary="letter">
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dear Percy</span>,&mdash;Stick to it.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 30%">Affectionately,</span><br />
+<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 45%">John P. Whittington.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>It actually surprised Percy to find out how glad he was to receive this
+laconic epistle from his only living relative. He cast about for a
+suitable reply.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page153" id="page153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I want to send something that'll please him," he thought. "He hasn't
+had much satisfaction, so far, out of me."</p>
+
+<p>Finally, after mature deliberation, he indited the following:</p>
+
+<table width="50%" summary="letter">
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dear Dad</span>,&mdash;I'm sticking.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 30%">Your affectionate son,</span><br />
+<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 55%">Percy.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><i>The Three Musketeers</i> gathered dust on the wooden shelf. Percy had
+faced squarely the fact of his college conditions, and had determined
+that they must be made up at the opening of the fall term; so his spare
+time went into Virgil and C&aelig;sar and algebra and geometry, instead of
+being spent on Dumas. He rarely asked for assistance from the others;
+they had little leisure, and it was his own fight. He buckled down
+manfully.</p>
+
+<p>Another task that he set before himself was the establishment of cordial
+relations with the other members of the party. He realized that his own
+fault had made this necessary. It had been an easy matter to get on good
+terms with Jim, Budge, and Throppy. With Filippo it was a little harder;
+but soon he, too, thawed out when he found that Percy treated him
+courteously and was willing to do his share of the camp work. Even Nemo
+wagged his tail when Percy appeared, and the crow grew tame enough to
+eat fish out of his hand.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, when the fog had lifted sufficiently to make it possible
+to see a few hundred feet from the island, a motor-boat unexpectedly
+appeared from the north and swung round Brimstone Point into<span class='pagenum'><a name="page154" id="page154">[Pg 154]</a></span> the cove.
+She ran up alongside the <i>Barracouta</i>, where the boys were baiting their
+trawl.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm the warden," said one of the two newcomers, a gray-mustached,
+keen-eyed man. "I've come to look over your car."</p>
+
+<p>Jim took his dip-net and stepped into the motor-boat, and they ran up to
+the lobster-car. A few minutes' investigation of its contents satisfied
+the official that it contained no "shorts."</p>
+
+<p>"Glad to be able to give you a clean bill of health," said he as he set
+Jim back on board the sloop. "I wish some other people I know of did
+business as clean and aboveboard as you young fellows."</p>
+
+<p>A quarter-hour later the sound of his exhaust had died away in the fog
+to the northward.</p>
+
+<p>"What would he have done if he'd found any 'shorts'?" asked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Fined us a dollar for every one," answered Jim. "Taken the cream off
+the summer, wouldn't it? Sometimes it pays, even in dollars and cents,
+to be honest."</p>
+
+<p>The next morning was hot and muggy. The sea about the island was clear
+of fog for one or two miles. Jim and Budge had started long before light
+to set the trawl, and Throppy wished to make some changes on his
+wireless; so Filippo was glad enough of the chance to go out with Percy
+to haul the lobster-traps.</p>
+
+<p>The little Italian had lost much of his melancholy. He enjoyed his work
+and the good-fellowship of the camp. The weeks of association with his
+new friends had made of him an entirely different fellow from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="page155" id="page155">[Pg 155]</a></span>
+lonely, homesick lad they had picked up on the steamboat wharf at
+Stonington.</p>
+
+<p>The two boys started in the pea-pod at six o'clock. A glassy calm
+overspread the sea. Even the perpetual ocean swell seemed to have lost
+much of its force.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll row!" volunteered Percy.</p>
+
+<p>He stripped off his oil-coat and sweater and rolled up his
+shirt-sleeves.</p>
+
+<p>"It'll be hot up in the granite quarries to-day, hey, Filippo? S'pose
+you're sorry not to be there?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Io sono contento</i>" ("I am satisfied"), replied the Italian.</p>
+
+<p>Hauling and rebaiting the hundred-odd traps was a good five hours' job
+and more for the couple, neither of whom had ever handled a small boat
+or seen a live lobster before the previous month. As the forenoon
+advanced the air seemed to grow thicker and more breathless. Over the
+water brooded a languid haze, through which the sun rays burned with a
+moist, intense heat.</p>
+
+<p>Percy's bare arms began to grow red and painful.</p>
+
+<p>"Feel as if they were being scalded," he complained. "I've heard Jim say
+a fog-burn was worse than any other kind. Now I know he's right."</p>
+
+<p>Eleven o'clock, and still twenty-five traps to be pulled. Most of these
+were on the Dog and Pups, a group of ledges more than a mile northeast
+of the island. It was the best spot for lobsters anywhere about
+Tarpaulin. Percy hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Fog seems to be closing in a little," he observed, "and we haven't any
+compass. Should hate to get<span class='pagenum'><a name="page156" id="page156">[Pg 156]</a></span> out there and have it shut down thick.
+Might be hard work to find the island again."</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at the tub of lobsters.</p>
+
+<p>"If the Dog and Pups keep up anywhere near their average, we'll beat the
+record. What d'you say, Filippo? Shall we take a chance and surprise the
+rest of 'em?"</p>
+
+<p>Filippo flashed his white teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"I go with you," he smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Then go it is!" decided Percy.</p>
+
+<p>He headed the pea-pod for the Dog and Pups.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll keep a sharp lookout, and if it starts to grow anyways thick
+we'll strike back for old Tarpaulin."</p>
+
+<p>A pull of about twenty minutes brought them to the ledges, around which
+the traps were set in a circle. They began hauling at the point in the
+circumference nearest to the island, following the buoys west and north.
+The catch exceeded their hopes.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll need another tub, if this keeps up," chuckled Percy.</p>
+
+<p>Filippo laughed jubilantly. The fog was forgotten. Their entire
+attention was centered on the contents of each trap as it was pulled.</p>
+
+<p>Round on the edge of the circle farthest from the island a pot refused
+to leave bottom. Percy tugged till he was red in the face, but he could
+not start it.</p>
+
+<p>"Catch hold with me, Filippo!" he puffed.</p>
+
+<p>The Italian joined his strength to Percy's, but to no avail. The slacker
+still clung to the bottom. The boys straightened up, panting.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll have to leave it," acknowledged Percy, dis<span class='pagenum'><a name="page157" id="page157">[Pg 157]</a></span>appointedly. "Probably
+there's half a dozen two-pound lobsters in it."</p>
+
+<p>He looked about and gave a startled cry.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's the island?"</p>
+
+<p>The wooded bluffs of Tarpaulin had disappeared. While they had been
+wrestling with the stubborn trap the fog had stolen a march on them. On
+all sides loomed a horizon of gray mist, not a half-mile distant and
+steadily drawing nearer. They must locate the island and get back to it
+at once.</p>
+
+<p>Percy tossed over the buoy and the warp at which they had been pulling.
+Tarpaulin lay southwest; but which way was southwest? Busied with the
+trap, he had utterly lost all sense of direction. The sun? He glanced
+hopefully up. No; that would not help any. The fog was too dense. Ha!
+The surf?</p>
+
+<p>"Listen hard, Filippo!" he exhorted.</p>
+
+<p>They strained their ears. No sound. The swell was so gentle that it did
+not break on the ledges of the island loudly enough to be heard a mile
+and a quarter off. The heaving circle of which they were the center was
+contracting fast. Its misty walls were now less than five hundred feet
+away.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess we'd better take a buoy aboard, and hang to it till Jim comes out
+to hunt us up. It'd make me feel cheap to do it, but it's the only safe
+way. But wait! What's that?"</p>
+
+<p>Both listened again. A sound reached their ears, plain and unmistakable,
+the rote of dashing water.</p>
+
+<p>"There's the surf!" rejoiced Percy. "Don't you hear it?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Si</i>, I hear it," answered Filippo.</p>
+
+<p>Dropping the buoy he had just gaffed, Percy took<span class='pagenum'><a name="page158" id="page158">[Pg 158]</a></span> the oars and began
+rowing hard toward the sound, which gradually grew louder. The fog came
+on with a rush, sliding over them like an avalanche. It was hardly
+possible to see beyond the tips of the oar-blades.</p>
+
+<p>"Lucky we can hear that surf!" said Percy, comfortably. "But strange it
+sounds so loud and so near."</p>
+
+<p>Now it was close ahead. He stopped rowing, puzzled. A blast of cold air
+smote them. Suddenly there was a rushing all around. It was not the surf
+at all, but waves, breaking before the coming wind. They were lost in
+the fog!</p>
+
+<p>Percy faced Filippo blankly. For a moment his head went round. With
+bitter regret he now realized that in dropping the buoy he had given up
+a certainty for an uncertainty that might cost them dearly. But nothing
+was to be gained by yielding to discouragement. He reviewed his scanty
+stock of sea lore.</p>
+
+<p>"That wind is probably blowing from some point between northeast and
+southeast. If we turn around, and run straight before it, we'll be
+likely to hit the island."</p>
+
+<p>He swung the pea-pod stern to the breeze.</p>
+
+<p>"Here goes! Watch out sharp for lobster-buoys, Filippo!"</p>
+
+<p>But no buoys appeared. They might pass within ten feet of one and never
+see it. Five, ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed; and still no sign of
+Tarpaulin. The wind was becoming stronger, the waves higher; their
+rushing was now loud enough to drown the sound of any surf that might be
+breaking on the ledges of the island. Percy rowed for a quarter-hour<span class='pagenum'><a name="page159" id="page159">[Pg 159]</a></span>
+longer, dread plucking at his heart-strings. At last he rested on his
+oars.</p>
+
+<p>"We've missed it," he acknowledged, despondently.</p>
+
+<p>They were lost now in good earnest. It was one o'clock. The fog hung
+over them like a heavy gray pall, so damp and thick that it was almost
+stifling. Percy turned the pea-pod bow to the wind and began rowing
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"We must try to hold our own till it clears up," he observed, with
+attempted cheerfulness.</p>
+
+<p>But his tones lacked conviction. It might not clear for two or three
+days. By degrees his strokes lost their force, until the oars were
+barely dipping. The boat was going astern fast.</p>
+
+<p>Two o'clock. Long ere this Jim and Budge must have returned from
+trawling and realized that the pea-pod and its occupants were lost. They
+were probably searching for them now, perhaps miles away on the other
+side of the island, wherever it might be.</p>
+
+<p>A gruff bark startled them. A round, black, whiskered head suddenly
+thrust up out of the water close to the port gunwale. Filippo cried out
+in alarm, but Percy reassured him.</p>
+
+<p>"Only a seal!"</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly the sea grew rough. All around them tossed and streamed and
+writhed long, black aprons of kelp. They were passing over a sunken
+ledge. Soon it lay behind them; the kelp vanished and the waves grew
+lower.</p>
+
+<p>Three o'clock went by; then four. The afternoon was waning. The thick,
+woolly gray that surrounded them assumed a more somber shade. Night was<span class='pagenum'><a name="page160" id="page160">[Pg 160]</a></span>
+coming, pitchy and starless, doubly so for the two lost boys, adrift on
+the open ocean.</p>
+
+<p>Hark! What was that? They both heard it, far distant, off the port bow!
+Percy leaped up in excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"The shot-gun!" he cried. "They're signaling!"</p>
+
+<p>Heading the boat toward the sound, he rowed his hardest, while Filippo
+strained forward, listening. Ten minutes dragged by, and once
+again&mdash;<i>pouf!</i>&mdash;slightly louder, and slightly to starboard. Percy
+corrected his course and again threw his whole heart into his rowing.</p>
+
+<p>So it went for an hour, the signals sounding at ten-minute intervals,
+each louder and nearer than the one before. At last Percy thought it
+possible that their voices might be heard against the wind. He stopped
+rowing.</p>
+
+<p>"Now shout, Filippo!"</p>
+
+<p>Their cries pealed out together. They were heard. An answering hail came
+back. Soon the puff-puff-puff of the <i>Barracouta's</i> exhaust was driving
+rivets through the fog. A little later they were on board the sloop,
+answering the inquiries of Jim and Budge, while the empty <ins class="correction" title="Original: peapod">pea-pod</ins> towed
+astern.</p>
+
+<p>"Your seamanship wasn't bad, Perce," was Jim's judgment. "After you
+dropped the buoy, and then found you'd been rowing into the teeth of the
+wind, it might have been better to have tried only to hold your own
+until we came out to look you up. That breeze at first was nearer north
+than northeast, and when you ran before it you went south past the
+island. After that you were all at sea. But I might have done just the
+same thing. I can't tell you,<span class='pagenum'><a name="page161" id="page161">[Pg 161]</a></span> though, how glad we are to see you back,
+even if it did cost next to our last shell of birdshot. The Gulf of
+Maine's a pretty homesick place to be kicking round in on a foggy
+night."</p>
+
+<p>"You aren't any gladder than we are," replied Percy.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at the pea-pod towing astern.</p>
+
+<p>"But say, Jim! Just cast your eye over that tub. When it comes to
+catching lobsters, haven't Filippo and I got the rest of the bunch beat
+to a frazzle?"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page162" id="page162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>SWORDFISHING</h3>
+
+<p>All through July the Tarpaulin Islanders had been troubled with dogfish.
+Beginning with a few scattering old "ground dogs," which apparently live
+on the banks the year round, they had become more and more numerous as
+the month advanced. Bait was stripped from the hooks; fish on the trawl
+were devoured until only heads and backbones were left; and the robbers
+themselves were caught in increasing numbers. At last their depredations
+became unbearable.</p>
+
+<p>Jim and Percy had made a set one foggy morning on Medrick Shoal. When
+the trawl came up it was a sight to make angels weep. For yards at a
+stretch the hooks were bare or bitten off. Then came "dogs" of all sizes
+from "garter-dogs," or "shoe-strings," a foot long, to full-grown
+ten-pounders of about a yard. Mingled with them was an occasional
+lonesome skeleton of a haddock, cusk, or hake.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at the pirate!" said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>Grasping a ganging well above the hook, he held the fish up for Percy's
+inspection. It was two feet long, of a dirty gray color, slim,
+shark-shaped, with mouth underneath. Before each of the two fins on its
+back projected a sharp horn.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page163" id="page163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Think of buying perfectly good herring at Vinalhaven, and freighting
+'em way down here to feed a thing like that!" mourned Jim. "He's the
+meanest thief that ever grew fins. Swims too slow to catch a fish that's
+free; but good-by to anything that's hooked, if he's round. He'll gouge
+out a piece as big as a baseball at every bite. I'd hate to fall
+overboard in a school of 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't touch him!" he warned, hastily, as Percy reached out an
+investigating hand. "He'll stick those horns into you, and they're rank
+poison."</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't dogfish good for anything?" asked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a thing! No, I'll take that back. They can be ground up for
+fertilizer; their livers are full of oil; and their skin makes the
+finest kind of sandpaper for cleaning or polishing metal without
+scratching it. They've been canned, too, under the name of grayfish; but
+no fisherman'd ever eat 'em; he knows 'em too well."</p>
+
+<p>Rod after rod of trawl yielded the same results.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm almost tempted to save my buoys and anchors, and cut all the rest
+away," announced Jim in disgust. "I've known it to be done. They wear
+the line out, sawing across it. But I guess the best way is to save what
+we can and stop fishing for a while. Sometimes they come square-edged,
+like a stone wall, just as they have this morning; and in a few days
+they'll have gone somewhere else. Hope it'll be that way this time!"</p>
+
+<p>It was almost noon before the whole trawl was aboard. It had yielded
+barely two hundred pounds of hake.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell you what!" exclaimed Jim as he looked at<span class='pagenum'><a name="page164" id="page164">[Pg 164]</a></span> his compass and headed
+the <i>Barracouta</i> westward through the fog for home, "we'll put the trawl
+in the house for a few days, and fit up for swordfishing. There's a good
+ground fifteen miles south of the island. I've been down there with
+Uncle Tom. If we could get some fair-sized fish, it'd be worth our while
+to take 'em into Rockland."</p>
+
+<p>That afternoon they mustered their swordfish gear. In the house were
+three or four of the wrecked coaster's mast-hoops. One of these Jim
+lashed to the sloop's jibstay, about waist-high above the end of the
+bowsprit.</p>
+
+<p>"That'll do for the pulpit!"</p>
+
+<p>Near the jaws of the gaff he nailed a little board seat, rigged like a
+bracket on a roof for shingling. On this the lookout could sit, his arm
+round the mast, watching for fins.</p>
+
+<p>"Now for a harpoon!"</p>
+
+<p>Across the rafters inside the house lay a hard-pine pole eighteen feet
+long, ending in a tapering two-foot iron. Strung on a fish-line hanging
+from a spike were a half-dozen swordfish darts. These were sharp, stubby
+metal arrows, all head and tail and no body, with a socket cast on one
+side to admit the top of the pole-iron. Back of the arrow-head was a
+hole, through which was fastened the buoy-line.</p>
+
+<p>"Righto!" exclaimed Jim. "Now when the fog clears we'll be ready to do
+business."</p>
+
+<p>That very night the mists scaled away before a brisk north wind. Morning
+showed the sea clear for miles, though a fleecy haze still blurred the
+southern and eastern horizon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page165" id="page165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We'll take this chance," decided Jim. "May not get a better. Remember
+it's dog-days!"</p>
+
+<p>At five o'clock they started south. Before eight they were on the
+swordfish-grounds. The wind, blowing against the long ocean swell,
+raised a fairly heavy sea. Though the day was clear, they could still
+feel the fog in the air.</p>
+
+<p>Jim allotted the company their several stations.</p>
+
+<p>"Budge, you swarm up to that seat on the gaff and watch out for fins!
+Throppy, you steer as Budge tells you! Stand by to take the dory, Perce,
+and go after any fish I'm lucky enough to iron. Filippo, be ready to
+throw that buoy and coil of warp off the starboard bow the minute I make
+a strike. I'll get out in the pulpit with the harpoon. Keep alive,
+everybody! We're liable to run across something any minute."</p>
+
+<p>Perched aloft, Budge scanned the tossing, glittering sea. His keen eye
+detected a triangular, black membrane <ins class="correction" title="Original: stereing">steering</ins> leisurely through the
+waves a hundred yards ahead.</p>
+
+<p>"Fin on the starboard bow! Keep her off, Throppy!"</p>
+
+<p>In a short time the <i>Barracouta</i> was close behind the unconscious fish.</p>
+
+<p>From the bowsprit end burst a shout of disgust:</p>
+
+<p>"No good! I can see him plain! Tail's too limber! Only a shark! Swing
+her off, Throppy!"</p>
+
+<p>"How can I tell a shark from a swordfish?" Budge called down to Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"Shark's back fin is shorter and broader, and he keeps his tail-fluke
+whacking from side to side. Swordfish has two steady fins, stiff as
+shingles;<span class='pagenum'><a name="page166" id="page166">[Pg 166]</a></span> front one is long and slender and curves back on a crook; the
+after one is the upper tail-fluke. Try again!"</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes passed. Then an excited yell:</p>
+
+<p>"Fin to port!"</p>
+
+<p>Following <ins class="correction" title="Original: Budge s">Budge's</ins> shouted directions, the sloop gave chase. Soon they
+were near their quarry.</p>
+
+<p>"Swordfish!" breathlessly announced Jim. "And a big one! Put me on top
+of him, Budge!"</p>
+
+<p>Leaning against the mast-hoop that encircled his waist, he lifted the
+long lance and poised it for the blow. The tail of the fish was almost
+under his feet when he launched the harpoon with all his strength.</p>
+
+<p>Unluckily, at just that moment the sloop dipped and met a big sea
+squarely. Her bowsprit dove under, burying Jim almost breast-deep,
+spoiling his aim. The dart struck the fish a glancing blow on the side
+of the shoulder. Off darted their frightened game.</p>
+
+<p>Jim gave a cry of disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>"Too bad! Ten feet, if he was an inch! Well, better luck next time!"</p>
+
+<p>A quarter-hour passed. Budge strained his eyes, but no fin! The breeze
+was shifting to the northeast. Jim cast a practised eye about the
+horizon.</p>
+
+<p>"If the wind swings round much farther it'll bring the fog again. See
+anything, Budge?"</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;yes! Up to starboard! Right, Throppy! Keep her as she is!"</p>
+
+<p>The fish was swimming at a moderate rate, and the sloop had no trouble
+in catching up with him. The two stiff fins betrayed him.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image12.jpg" width="320" height="429" alt="image12" title="Illustration" />
+<p class="caption" style="font-size: smaller; text-align: center">LEANING AGAINST THE MAST-HOOP THAT ENCIRCLED HIS WAIST,
+HE LIFTED THE LONG LANCE AND POISED IT FOR THE BLOW</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page167" id="page167">[Pg 167]</a></span>"Swordfish all right!" muttered Jim. "Not quite so big as the other one,
+but too good to lose! Steady, Throppy!"</p>
+
+<p>Foot by foot the <i>Barracouta's</i> bowsprit forged up on their prospective
+prey. Nobody spoke. Jim's grip on the pine staff tightened; his eye
+measured the distance to the dull-blue shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>Six inches further ... five ... four ... three ... two ... one ...
+<i>now!</i></p>
+
+<p>With all his might he drove the harpoon downward, straight for its mark.
+There was a tremendous flurry, and down went the fish, leaving a trail
+of blood.</p>
+
+<p>"Got him that time! Right through the shoulder! Over with that warp and
+barrel, Filippo!"</p>
+
+<p>The Italian obeyed, his eyes wide as saucers. Soon the coils of the
+fifty-fathom lobster-warp had straightened out in the wake of the
+terrified fugitive, and the red buoy danced off over the wave-crests.</p>
+
+<p>"He's up to you, Perce!" shouted Jim. "Go after him! Only be sure to
+remember what I told you coming out. Keep your eye on the barrel! Haul
+it aboard as soon as you can, and coil in the warp. Don't get snarled up
+in it if he starts running again."</p>
+
+<p>Percy drew the dory alongside and jumped in. Meanwhile the harpoon staff
+was dragged aboard by the line attached to it, the pole-iron having
+pulled out of the socket in the dart when the fish was struck. Jim stuck
+on a fresh dart, attached to another warp and buoy, and was ready for a
+second strike.</p>
+
+<p>"Pass Percy that lance, Filippo!" he ordered.</p>
+
+<p>"He may need it to keep off the sharks."</p>
+
+<p>The Italian handed to Whittington a short, stout<span class='pagenum'><a name="page168" id="page168">[Pg 168]</a></span> pole, on its end a
+two-foot iron rod, flattened to a point shaped like a tablespoon, and
+filed to razor sharpness. Percy set out in pursuit of the red barrel,
+now almost two hundred yards to starboard.</p>
+
+<p>"Another fin to port!" hailed Budge; and the <i>Barracouta</i> sheered off in
+quest of a second prize.</p>
+
+<p>For the first few minutes, though Percy rowed his prettiest, he could
+not hold his own with the moving barrel. Each glance over his shoulder
+showed that it was farther away. He bent stoutly to his oars. The sloop
+was heading in the opposite direction, and the distance between them
+widened rapidly. The wind had veered still further to the east and the
+fog hung more thickly on the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>The barrel was nearer. At last he had begun to gain on it. He rowed with
+renewed vigor. Either the fish was tiring out or had stopped swimming
+altogether. Presently the dory bumped against the keg.</p>
+
+<p>Pulling in his oars and dropping them over the thwarts, he sprang
+forward and gaffed the buoy. A moment later he had lifted it aboard and
+was pulling in the warp.</p>
+
+<p>The first ten feet came over the gunwale without any resistance; then he
+had to surge against the sag of a dead weight. The fish had either given
+up the ghost or was too exhausted to struggle.</p>
+
+<p>Fifty fathoms is a long distance to drag two hundred pounds. Percy's
+arms began to ache before he had coiled in half the warp. Then he was
+treated to a surprise.</p>
+
+<p>Several feet of line jerked through his hands. The fish had come to life
+again!<span class='pagenum'><a name="page169" id="page169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Percy closed his grip on the strands, but soon let them slip to avoid
+being pulled overboard. He started to make the line fast, but remembered
+Spurling's caution against the danger of tearing the dart out of his
+prey. So he tossed the barrel over again and began rowing after it.</p>
+
+<p>After traveling a few rods, it stopped. Once more he took it aboard and
+began coiling in the warp. This time the fish must surely be spent. But
+no! Thirty fathoms had crossed the gunwale when the rope was whisked
+from his hands with even more violence than before.</p>
+
+<p>Taken completely by surprise, Percy was wrenched forward. He hung for a
+moment over the side, twisted himself back in a strong effort to regain
+his balance, and incautiously planted his foot inside the unlaying coil.
+A turn whipped round his ankle, and he was snatched overboard, feet
+first.</p>
+
+<p>Before he could make a motion to free himself he was plowing rapidly
+along under water. His first panic passed. Unless he wished to drown, he
+must somehow clear his foot of that vise-like grip. And whatever he did
+must be done at once.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to reach his ankle, but the rate at which he was traveling
+straightened out his body, and he could not bend it against the water
+rushing by him. The warp leading back to the dory trailed across his
+face. He felt his way down it, hand over hand, to his ankle.</p>
+
+<p>There was a terrible pressure on his chest, a roaring in his ears; he
+was strangling. He could not hold his breath ten seconds longer.</p>
+
+<p>Bent almost double, he grasped the taut line be<span class='pagenum'><a name="page170" id="page170">[Pg 170]</a></span>yond his foot, first
+with one hand, then with both, and flung his whole weight suddenly on it
+in a desperate pull.</p>
+
+<p>The strain round his ankle eased, the rope loosened. Kicking vigorously,
+he freed himself from the loop. Then he let go of the warp and quickly
+rose to the surface.</p>
+
+<p>Percy was a good swimmer. He cleared the water from his mouth and nose,
+paddled easily while he drew two or three long breaths, then raised
+himself and looked around.</p>
+
+<p>Twenty yards away the dory bobbed aimlessly, the rope still running at a
+rapid rate over its gunwale. As Percy rose on a wave he caught a glimpse
+of the <i>Barracouta</i> more than a mile off; engrossed in the chase of the
+second fish, her crew had probably not observed his mishap. He turned
+his eyes back to the dory at the very moment that the warp ran out to
+its full length and the barrel was whirled overboard.</p>
+
+<p>Its red bilge flung the spray aloft as it towed rapidly toward him. Ten
+yards away it came to a sudden stop. The swordfish was either dead or
+taking another rest.</p>
+
+<p>It was a matter of no great difficulty for Percy to reach the little
+cask. He rested on it for a moment, then resumed his swim toward the
+boat. Presently he was grasping the gunwale.</p>
+
+<p>A month earlier it would have been absolutely impossible for him to
+scramble into the high-sided, rocking craft. As it was he had a hard
+fight, and he was all but spent when he tumbled inside and lay panting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page171" id="page171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When he raised himself, the first thing he noticed was that the fog was
+driving nearer. The wind was now due east. It promised to bring the
+day's fishing to an early end. He must retrieve the barrel and get the
+fish aboard as soon as possible or he might lose it altogether.</p>
+
+<p>Shipping his oars, he rowed up to the cask and took it in. A pull on the
+warp showed that the swordfish was motionless. Percy began hauling
+again, but this time he was very careful to keep his feet clear of the
+coil.</p>
+
+<p>A damp breath smote his cheek. He glanced toward the east, and saw the
+fog blowing over the water in ragged, fleecy masses. The <i>Barracouta</i>
+was momentarily hidden. When she reappeared, fully a mile distant, her
+crew were hoisting a black body aboard. While he was fighting for life
+they had succeeded in capturing the second fish. The sight reminded him
+of his duty. He resumed pulling.</p>
+
+<p>As the fathoms came in there was no sign of life on the other end. The
+fish sagged like lead. At last the long drag was over and its body
+floated beside the dory.</p>
+
+<p>"Deader 'n a door-nail!" muttered Percy.</p>
+
+<p>His prize was fully seven feet long. The iron had gone down under the
+shoulder and out into the gills, causing it to bleed freely. Its sword,
+which was an extension of the upper jaw, suggesting a duck's bill, was
+notched and battered, where it had struck against rocks on the bottom.</p>
+
+<p>Following Jim's directions, Percy fastened a bight of the warp securely
+round the tail of his prize, triced it up over the dory's stem, and made
+the line fast<span class='pagenum'><a name="page172" id="page172">[Pg 172]</a></span> round a thwart. The fish was so heavy that he could not
+lift it very high, and most of its body dragged in the water. He began
+to row slowly toward the sloop.</p>
+
+<p>Thicker and thicker blew the fog. Finally it blotted out the
+<i>Barracouta</i>; but Percy's last view of her told that she was heading his
+way. What if she could not find him! The thought gave him an unpleasant
+chill. He rowed harder.</p>
+
+<p>A splash astern attracted his attention. A violent shock set the dory
+quivering. He started up just in time to see a large fish dart away,
+leaving the blood streaming from a gory wound in the head of the
+swordfish.</p>
+
+<p>A shark! Percy knew he was in for a fight. He seized the lance and
+sprang into the stern.</p>
+
+<p>A black fin shot alongside. The marauder rolled up for his turn at the
+banquet. Just as his jaws opened Percy drove the keen steel into his
+throat.</p>
+
+<p>Mad with fright and pain, the robber flashed off, thrashing the bloody
+water. Another fin appeared on Percy's left. Again he lunged, and found
+his mark. The tail of the wounded shark struck the dory a heavy blow.
+Down it rolled, almost pitching the boy overboard head foremost among
+the blood-crazed sea-tigers. For a moment he sickened at what might have
+happened; but he regained his balance and hung to the lance. His
+fighting blood was roused. He had risked too much already to have the
+swordfish torn to pieces under his very eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Knees braced tightly against the sides of the stern, hands locked round
+the stout butt of the lance, he foiled rush after rush of the
+black-finned, white-bellied pirates. Again and again he lunged and<span class='pagenum'><a name="page173" id="page173">[Pg 173]</a></span>
+stabbed, until the water round the rocking boat was dyed crimson.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image13.jpg" width="320" height="383" alt="image13" title="Illustration" />
+<p class="caption" style="text-align: center; font-size: smaller">KNEES BRACED TIGHTLY AGAINST THE SIDES OF THE STERN,
+HANDS LOCKED ROUND THE STOUT BUTT OF THE LANCE, HE FOILED RUSH AFTER
+RUSH OF THE BLACK-FINNED, WHITE-BELLIED PIRATES</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>There seemed to be no end to the sharks. Fins crisscrossed the water all
+about and cut in toward the swordfish in quick, savage rushes. Percy was
+becoming exhausted; his arms ached; his breath came short. He could not
+keep up the fight much longer. Where was the <i>Barracouta</i>?</p>
+
+<p>He shouted at the top of his lungs. Unexpectedly, out of the fog to
+starboard Jim's voice answered him.</p>
+
+<p>"Sharks!" yelled Percy. "This way! Quick!"</p>
+
+<p>"Fight 'em off! We're coming!"</p>
+
+<p>In less than two minutes the sloop was alongside, and oars and harpoon
+helped beat off the assailants while the prize was being hoisted aboard.
+Though badly gouged and bitten about the head, the swordfish was but
+little impaired in value, for its body had hardly been touched. Another
+of about the same size lay in the standing-room. It had been a good
+morning's work.</p>
+
+<p>Percy told his story as the <i>Barracouta</i> nosed home through the fog.
+When he had finished, Jim dropped his hand on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Perce," said he, "you certainly put up a great fight and saved your
+fish. Nobody could have done any better."</p>
+
+<p>Those few words, Percy felt, amply repaid him for what he had gone
+through that morning. He had won his spurs and was at last a
+full-fledged member of Spurling &amp; Company.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page174" id="page174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XV</h2>
+
+<h3>MIDSUMMER DAYS</h3>
+
+<p>Half past twelve found the <i>Barracouta</i> again at her mooring in Sprowl's
+Cove. Throppy and Filippo were landed, with instructions to haul the
+lobster-traps the next morning if the fog would allow them to do it
+safely. Without waiting for dinner, Jim, Budge, and Percy started in the
+sloop for Rockland to dispose of their catch. They had no ice, so it was
+necessary to get the two swordfish to market as soon as possible.</p>
+
+<p>"Thicker 'n a dungeon, isn't it?" said Jim as they rounded Brimstone
+Point and headed northwest into the fog. "Lucky we've got a good
+compass! Without it we wouldn't stand the ghost of a show of getting to
+Rockland. We'd pile up on some ledge before we'd gone half-way."</p>
+
+<p>Shaping their course carefully by the chart, and keeping on the alert to
+avoid passing vessels and steamers, they drove the <i>Barracouta</i> at top
+speed. Ten miles from Tarpaulin the increased height of the ocean swells
+told that they were crossing the shoal rocky ground of Snippershan. Five
+miles farther on they left behind the clanging bell on Bay Ledge and
+soon passed the red whistler south of Hurricane. A straight course from
+this brought<span class='pagenum'><a name="page175" id="page175">[Pg 175]</a></span> them at five o'clock to the bell east of Monroe's Island,
+and before six they were alongside the steamboat wharf at Rockland.</p>
+
+<p>"Look out for her, boys!" directed Jim. "I want to get up-town before
+the markets close."</p>
+
+<p>He landed, and started on the run for Main Street. In twenty-five
+minutes he was back.</p>
+
+<p>"Sold 'em!" he announced. "Sixty dollars!"</p>
+
+<p>A little later an express-wagon with two men drove down on the wharf.
+The swordfish were hoisted from the <i>Barracouta</i>, the agreed price paid,
+and the team hurried away.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bad day's work," said Budge.</p>
+
+<p>"Fair! Now let's go somewhere and get a good supper!"</p>
+
+<p>They found a restaurant on Main Street, unpretentious but clean, and sat
+down at one of its small tables. Two months ago Percy would have turned
+up his nose at the idea of eating in such a place; now he looked forward
+to a meal there with eager anticipation. Jim winked at him, then scanned
+the bill of fare, and turned to Budge.</p>
+
+<p>"What'll you have, Roger?" he asked. "I see they've some nice fish
+here."</p>
+
+<p>"Fish!" almost screamed Lane. "Not on your life! I've eaten so much fish
+the last two months that I'm ashamed to look a hake or haddock in the
+face. None for mine! Beefsteak and onions are good enough for me."</p>
+
+<p>Jim glanced at Percy. Percy nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Three of the same," said Jim to the waiter.</p>
+
+<p>They starved until the viands came on, then turned to. Fifteen minutes
+later the three orders<span class='pagenum'><a name="page176" id="page176">[Pg 176]</a></span> were duplicated and despatched without undue
+delay.</p>
+
+<p>"Try it again, Budge?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to," returned Lane, truthfully, "but I can't."</p>
+
+<p>Jim broke a five-dollar bill at the cashier's desk, and they filed out.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry Throppy and Filippo aren't with us," said Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"So am I; but we'll even it up with 'em somehow, later."</p>
+
+<p>After an evening with Sherlock Holmes at the movies the three went down
+to the <i>Barracouta</i> and turned in. The next morning the fog was not so
+thick. They started at sunrise, and reached the island before eleven
+o'clock. At noon Stevens and the Italian came in with a good catch of
+lobsters.</p>
+
+<p>And now came some of the most enjoyable weeks of the summer. The five
+boys were thoroughly acquainted and on the best of terms. Their work had
+been reduced to a frictionless routine that left them more leisure than
+at first. Lane was treasurer and bookkeeper for the concern, and his
+reports, made every Saturday night, showed that returns, both from the
+fish and from the lobsters, were running ahead of their estimates at the
+beginning of the season.</p>
+
+<p>Percy, in particular, was learning to enjoy the free, out-of-door life,
+so different from anything to which he had been accustomed. At the close
+of pleasant afternoons, when a land breeze had driven the fog to sea and
+the work of the day was finished, he liked to take his C&aelig;sar or Virgil
+up to the beacon on<span class='pagenum'><a name="page177" id="page177">[Pg 177]</a></span> Brimstone, and lie at ease on the cushion of wiry
+grass, while he followed the great general through his Gallic campaigns
+or traced the wanderings of pious &AElig;neas over a sea that could have been
+no bluer or more sparkling than that which surrounded the island.
+Sometimes it pleased him to explore the sheep-paths through the scrubby
+evergreens with gray wool-tags clinging to the branch ends, and to
+emerge at last from the tangle of dwarfed, twisted trunks on the
+northeast point. There he would throw himself at full length on the
+summit of the bluff, with the surf in his ears and the cool, salt breeze
+on his face, and watch the sun flashing from the brown glass toggles
+near the white lobster-buoys; or, lifting his gaze to the horizon beyond
+the purple deep, he would trace the low, rolling humps of the mainland
+hills, the cleft range of Isle au Haut, or the heights of Mount Desert.
+But no studies or scenery caused him to forget his daily trip with
+sweater and rockweed.</p>
+
+<p>The glades on the southern edge of the woods were overgrown with
+raspberry-bushes. When Filippo's daily stint about the camp was
+finished, he visited these spots with his pail; and while the season
+lasted, heaping bowls of red, dead-ripe fruit or saucers of sweet
+preserve varied their customary fare. There were blueberries, too, in
+abundance, and these also made a welcome addition to their table.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys," said Lane, one morning, "I'm meat hungry. I can still taste that
+beefsteak we got the other night at Rockland. Think of the ton or so of
+mutton chops running loose on top of this island,<span class='pagenum'><a name="page178" id="page178">[Pg 178]</a></span> while we poor Crusoes
+are starving to death on the beach!"</p>
+
+<p>"No need of waiting until you're in the last stages, Budge," observed
+Jim. "Uncle Tom told me we could have a lamb whenever we wanted one. All
+we've got to do is to kill it."</p>
+
+<p>A silence settled over the camp. The boys looked at one another. Nobody
+hankered for the job.</p>
+
+<p>"Budge spoke first," suggested Throppy.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm no butcher," returned Lane. "Come to think of it, I don't care much
+for lamb, after all."</p>
+
+<p>"Now see here!" said Jim. "What's the use of beating round the bush?
+We're all crazy for fresh meat. The only thing to do is to draw lots to
+see who'll sacrifice his feelings and do the shooting. We'll settle that
+now."</p>
+
+<p>He cut four toothpicks into uneven lengths.</p>
+
+<p>"Filippo's not in this."</p>
+
+<p>He had noticed that the Italian's olive face had grown pale.</p>
+
+<p>"Now come up and draw like men!"</p>
+
+<p>The lot fell to Lane.</p>
+
+<p>"You're it, Budge! Don't be a quitter! There's the gun and here's our
+last shell. Don't miss!"</p>
+
+<p>Lane's lips tightened. But he took the gun, put in the shell, and
+started up over the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't follow me," he flung back. "I'll do this alone."</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes of silence followed. Then&mdash;<i>bang!</i></p>
+
+<p>"He's done it!" exclaimed Throppy.</p>
+
+<p>The boys felt unhappy. In a few minutes Lane came crunching down the
+gravel slope. His face was sober.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page179" id="page179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Where's the lamb?" asked Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"Up there! I didn't agree to bring it down."</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, boys!"</p>
+
+<p>Jim, Percy, and Stevens went up to the pasture; Lane remained in the
+cabin. A careful search failed to reveal the victim. Jim walked to the
+edge of the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Budge!" he called.</p>
+
+<p>Lane came out of the camp.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's that lamb?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't know! Running around up there, I s'pose!"</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you shoot him?"</p>
+
+<p>"No! I couldn't. And I know none of the rest of you could, either. So I
+fired in the air."</p>
+
+<p>Jim's laugh spoke his relief.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess that's the easiest way out of it for everybody. Next trip
+to Matinicus I'll order a hind quarter from Rockland. It'll mean a
+little more wear and tear on the company's pocketbook, but a good deal
+less on our feelings."</p>
+
+<p>One of the accompaniments of the heat and fog of those August days was a
+kind of salt-water mirage. Ships and steamers miles away below the
+horizon were lifted into plain view. Low, distant islands rose to
+perpendicular bluffs, distorted by the wavering air-currents; other
+islands appeared directly above the first, and came down to join them.
+Percy watched these novel moving pictures with great interest.</p>
+
+<p>Every few mornings either the trawl or the lobster-traps would yield
+something unusual. Now it might be a dozen bream, called by the
+fishermen "brim," "redfish," or "all-eyes"; again up would<span class='pagenum'><a name="page180" id="page180">[Pg 180]</a></span> come a
+catfish, savage and sharp-toothed, able to dent an ash oar; and rarely a
+small halibut would appear, drowned on the trawl. Sometimes the
+lobstermen would capture a monkfish, whose undiscriminating appetite had
+led him to try to swallow a glass float; or a trap would come to the
+surface freighted with huge five-fingers or containing a short,
+ribbon-shaped eel, blood-red from nose to tail-tip.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling &amp; Company were dressing a big catch of hake on the <i>Barracouta</i>
+early one afternoon when a rockety report resounded close to the island.
+Percy, who was wielding his splitting-knife with good effect, as his
+oilskins showed, glanced up quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"That's a yacht's gun!"</p>
+
+<p>Sixty seconds revealed that he was right. Into the mouth of the cove
+shot a keen-pro wed steam-yacht, resplendent with brass fittings and
+fresh, white paint. Five or six flanneled figures lounged aft, while a
+few members of her crew, natty in white duck, dropped anchor under the
+direction of an officer. Side-steps were lowered and an immaculate toy
+boat swung out; a sailor occupied the rowing-thwart, while one of the
+yachtsmen stepped into the stern and took the rudder-lines. The boat
+sped straight toward the <i>Barracouta</i>, which grew dingy and mean by
+contrast.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the strangers were near. The yachtsman touched his cap. He was
+a good-looking fellow of perhaps nineteen, with a light, fuzzy mustache
+and eyes that were a trifle shifty.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you be so kind as to tell me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He broke off abruptly as he recognized Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"By the Great Horn Spoon!" he almost shouted,<span class='pagenum'><a name="page181" id="page181">[Pg 181]</a></span> "if it isn't P.
+Whittington! Percy, old man, what do you mean by hiding yourself away
+offshore in a lonesome spot like this? Come aboard! Come aboard! The old
+crowd's there&mdash;Ben Brimmer and Martin Sayles and Mordaunt and Mack and
+Barden. I've chartered the <i>Arethusa</i>, and invited 'em to spend a month
+with me along the New England coast. We're not having a time of it&mdash;oh
+no! or my name isn't Chauncey Pike!"</p>
+
+<p>His eyes dwelt curiously on the details of Percy's costume and
+occupation.</p>
+
+<p>"What you masquerading for? Hiding from the sheriff?"</p>
+
+<p>Percy met his gaze evenly. His estimate of men and the things that make
+life worth living had undergone a material change during the last two
+months. Pike's jesting flowed off him like water off a duck. He
+introduced the other members of Spurling &amp; Company, and Pike greeted
+them cordially.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you all to take dinner on board with us to-night. We've got a
+first-class chef, and I'll have him do his prettiest. 'Tisn't every day
+you run across an old friend."</p>
+
+<p>Jim was inclined to demur, but Pike would not take no for an answer, and
+he finally gave in when Percy added his entreaties to those of the
+yachtsman.</p>
+
+<p>"Signal the yacht when you're through, Perce," said the latter as he
+rowed away, "and I'll send ashore for you. I know your friends here will
+excuse you for a while if you come aboard and talk over old times with
+us."</p>
+
+<p>"Better let me set you ashore now," said Jim, "so you can wash up and
+change your clothes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page182" id="page182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Not much!" refused Percy. "I'll see every fish salted first."</p>
+
+<p>He was as good as his word. Not until the last hake lay on the top of
+its brethren in the hogshead did he take off his oilskins and prepare
+for his visit to the yacht. At his signal the boat rowed in and took him
+aboard. He received an uproarious greeting from his former friends. The
+first welcome over, he came in for more or less chaffing.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys," jeered Pike, "what do you suppose I found this modest,
+salt-water violet&mdash;or barnacle, I should say&mdash;doing? Actually dressed in
+oil-clothes and cleaning fish! Think of it! P. Whittington, the one and
+only! Wouldn't his friends along Fifth Avenue like to see him in that
+rig! Honest, Perce, if I wanted to bury myself, I'd pick a cemetery
+where the occupants didn't have to perform so much bone labor. I'd
+rather face the firing-squad than do what you were doing this
+afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"Guess you're telling the <ins class="correction" title="Original: truth.">truth,</ins> Chauncey," retorted Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Come down below and let's have a drink all round!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not unless it's Poland water," said Percy, firmly. "The one drawback
+about this island is that the only spring's brackish. If you've any good
+bottled water I'll be glad to drink with you, but nothing stronger."</p>
+
+<p>"Just listen to that, fellows! Well, have your own way, Perce! We've a
+dozen carboys of spring water aboard, and you can drink 'em all if you
+want to. Try these cigarettes!"</p>
+
+<p>"Swore off over a month ago."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page183" id="page183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No! Shouldn't think you'd find life worth living. What do you have for
+amusement?"</p>
+
+<p>"We're too busy to need any," replied Percy, truthfully.</p>
+
+<p>Pike looked serious. Removing Percy's cap, he tapped his head with the
+tips of his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"There's some trouble inside," he said at last, "but I can't quite make
+out what it is. I think we'll have to take him up to the city to consult
+some prominent alienist, as the newspapers would say. But first he's
+going east in the <i>Arethusa</i> with Doctor Pike. Come on, Perce! Put off
+the sackcloth and ashes, or rather the oilskins and fish-scales, and
+travel with us for a while. We're all artists aboard, but we paint in
+only one color, and that's a deep, rich red! We're going to spread it
+over Castine and Bar Harbor and Campobello, and we want your esteemed
+assistance. Do we have it?"</p>
+
+<p>Percy shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"You do not," he declined. "I'm booked for college in the fall, and I'm
+studying to make up my conditions."</p>
+
+<p>Pike looked sadly round at the others.</p>
+
+<p>"And so young!" he lamented. "I presume your friends ashore share your
+sentiments, and we'll have to take 'em into consideration in planning
+for that dinner to-night. Wouldn't have any scruples, would you, about
+beginning with a clear soup, then tackling a juicy beef roast with all
+the fixings, and winding up with lemon pie and ice-cream?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lead me to it," grinned Percy. "Well, fellows, I'm mighty glad to see
+you, even if we don't agree on all points. Now I've an engagement ashore
+for<span class='pagenum'><a name="page184" id="page184">[Pg 184]</a></span> a half-hour or so, and if you'll set me on the beach I'll come
+aboard with the others."</p>
+
+<p>Curious eyes followed him as he climbed the bluff with his sweater and
+plunged into the woods. At six he rowed out with the rest of the
+Spurlingites, Filippo included. The dinner to which they sat down was
+one they remembered for the rest of the season. Pike had not overpraised
+his French chef. Everybody had a good time, and at the close of the meal
+a toast was drunk&mdash;in spring water&mdash;to the continued success of Spurling
+&amp; Company. The boys went ashore early.</p>
+
+<p>No trawling was done the next morning, as it was the regular day for the
+trip to Matinicus. The <i>Barracouta</i> started at nine o'clock. At about
+the same time the yacht catted her anchor, fired a farewell gun, and
+proceeded eastward, her passengers first lining up and giving three
+cheers for their guests of the night before, and receiving a similar
+salute in return.</p>
+
+<p>"Perce," said Jim as the sloop rose and sank on the swells on her way
+over to Seal Island, "if you won't think me impertinent, I'd like to ask
+you a question."</p>
+
+<p>"Fire ahead!"</p>
+
+<p>"You can tell me or not, just as you please, but I've been wondering
+since last night whether, right down at the bottom of your heart, you'd
+rather be with your friends on the yacht or with us on the island."</p>
+
+<p>"That's an easy one, Jim," replied Percy. "And the best answer I can
+make is the fact I'm on the boat with you this minute. I had an
+invitation to<span class='pagenum'><a name="page185" id="page185">[Pg 185]</a></span> go with them, and I declined it. Things look different to
+me from what they did two months ago."</p>
+
+<p>At Matinicus Percy found a letter from his father, answering his epistle
+of a few weeks before.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Dear Percy</span> [it ran],&mdash;Glad to hear you're on the job. Keep
+it up.</p>
+
+<p>Percy countered that night as follows:</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Dear Dad</span>,&mdash;I'm still sticking.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page186" id="page186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XVI</h2>
+
+<h3>A LOST ALUMNUS</h3>
+
+<p>Throppy stepped out of the fish-house at the close of a breezy afternoon
+and started for the camp to wash up. The morning's catch had been split
+and salted; it just filled a hogshead. He glanced seaward at the
+white-capped squalls chasing one another over the broad blue surface.
+Three steps from the building he halted in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Hulloo! Who's that?"</p>
+
+<p>Round the eastern point came a small sloop. Evidently she had met with
+disaster, for the end of her boom was broken and dragging and her
+mainsail hung loosely. It was easily apparent that she had made a safe
+harbor none too early.</p>
+
+<p>Attracted by Throppy's exclamation, the other boys joined him, and
+together they watched the strange craft limp into the cove. As she came
+nearer they could see that she was old and dilapidated. Her brown canvas
+was frayed and rotten; tag-ends of rope hung here and there; and her
+battered sides were badly in need of a coat of fresh paint.</p>
+
+<p>"Built in the year one!" was Jim's verdict. "Almost too old to be
+knocking round so far offshore!"</p>
+
+<p>Gliding slowly into the cove, she lost headway not far from the
+<i>Barracouta</i>. A small black dog began<span class='pagenum'><a name="page187" id="page187">[Pg 187]</a></span> to run to and fro on board and
+bark excitedly. The man at the helm, evidently her only crew, hurried
+stiffly forward, let the jib and mainsail run down,
+and dropped the anchor. Then the boys were treated to a fresh surprise.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image14.jpg" width="320" height="306" alt="image14" title="Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p>A shaggy white cat leaped from the standing-room upon the roof of the
+cabin. A Maltese followed her. Then another, jet black, sprang into
+view. The three rubbed about the legs of the man as he made his cable
+fast. Nemo, roused from his nap under the stove, ran down to the water's
+edge and began<span class='pagenum'><a name="page188" id="page188">[Pg 188]</a></span> an interchange of ferocious greetings with the strange
+canine; while the cats, lining up in a row on the side, arched their
+backs and spit fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>The boys viewed this menagerie with amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"Barnum &amp; Bailey's come to town!" muttered Budge.</p>
+
+<p>His craft safely moored, the man drew in a small punt which was towing
+astern and stepped into it. The dog followed.</p>
+
+<p>"Back, Oliver!" ordered his master.</p>
+
+<p>Grasping the animal by the scruff of the neck, he tossed him into the
+standing-room. Then he slowly sculled the punt to the beach. Jim walked
+down to meet him.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger was of medium height, and apparently over sixty years old.
+His beard and mustache were gray. He wore a black slouch-hat and a
+Prince Albert coat, threadbare and shiny, but neatly brushed. He stepped
+briskly ashore, with shoulders well set back. His dark eyes carried a
+suggestion of melancholy, and his face was deeply lined.</p>
+
+<p>"I've dropped in to make repairs," said he. "Broke my main boom in a
+squall about a mile north of the island, and thought I might get some
+one here to help me fix it."</p>
+
+<p>"You did right to come," returned Jim. "We'll be glad to do anything we
+can, Mr.&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Thorpe," supplied the other. "That isn't my name, but it'll do as well
+as any."</p>
+
+<p>"Mine's Spurling," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>They shook hands and walked up to the camp. There Jim introduced the
+newcomer to the other boys. Supper was about to be put on the table and<span class='pagenum'><a name="page189" id="page189">[Pg 189]</a></span>
+the stranger was invited to share it. He accepted, and ate heartily,
+almost ravenously.</p>
+
+<p>"Seems good to taste somebody's cooking besides your own," he
+apologized. "When you've summered and wintered yourself, year in and
+year out, the thing gets pretty monotonous and you almost hate the sight
+of food."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you're alone most of the time?" ventured Lane.</p>
+
+<p>"Not most of the time, but all the time."</p>
+
+<p>The boys would have liked to inquire further, but courtesy forbade, and
+their guest did not volunteer anything more regarding himself. He
+shifted the conversation to Nemo.</p>
+
+<p>"Bright-looking dog you've got there!" he commented.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Jim. "And he's fully as bright as he looks. I see you've a
+dog and some cats aboard."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; and they're good company&mdash;better, in some ways, than human beings,
+for they can't talk back. The dog's Oliver Cromwell; and the cats I've
+named Joan of Arc, Marie Antoinette, and Queen Victoria. I must go
+aboard and give 'em their suppers."</p>
+
+<p>He rose from the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Come back again in an hour," invited Jim, "and we'll have some music.
+We've a violin here."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be more than glad to come," returned their guest. "Music's
+something I don't have a chance to hear very often."</p>
+
+<p>Walking down the beach, he sculled out to his sloop. His animals greeted
+him, Oliver Cromwell vociferously, the cats with a more reserved
+welcome.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page190" id="page190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What d'you make of him?" asked Percy. "Odd stick, isn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Jim, meditatively, "but he seems like a gentleman. What I
+can't understand is why he's cruising along the coast alone in that old
+Noah's ark. It doesn't seem natural. Besides, it's dangerous business
+for a man of his age. Well, it's no concern of ours. Let's give him a
+pleasant evening."</p>
+
+<p>Promptly at the end of the allotted hour the stranger came ashore again.</p>
+
+<p>"Got the children all in bed for the night," said he. "Now I can make
+you a little visit with a clear conscience."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke faster and more cheerfully than he had done before. The
+melancholy in his bearing had vanished. Jim thought he detected a slight
+odor of liquor about him, but he could not be sure. They all sat down
+together, and Throppy brought out his violin.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall it be, boys?" he asked, after a preliminary tuning up.</p>
+
+<p>"Give us 'The Wearing of the Green,'" suggested Lane.</p>
+
+<p>Soon the wailing strains of the familiar Irish melody were breathing
+through the cabin. "Kathleen Mavourneen" followed, and the stranger sat
+as if fascinated. At "'Way Down Upon the Suwanee River" he dropped his
+head in his hands and his shoulders <ins class="correction" title="Original: no full stop">shook.</ins></p>
+
+<p>"Something livelier, Throppy," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>Stevens started in on "Dixie." As the first spirited notes came dancing
+off the violin their guest raised his head quickly, and before the
+selection was finished his cheerfulness had returned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page191" id="page191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Can you play 'The Campbells Are Coming'?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>As Stevens responded with the stirring Scotch air Thorpe rose to his
+feet and began whistling a clear, melodious accompaniment. The notes
+trilled out, pure and bird-like. The boys broke into hearty applause
+when he finished. Their approval emboldened him to ask a favor.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to play a little myself," he said; "but it's been years since
+I've had a bow in my hand. Would you be willing for me to see if I can
+recall anything? I'll be careful of your instrument."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure!" cordially returned Stevens.</p>
+
+<p>He handed violin and bow to Thorpe. The latter took them almost
+reverently. Tucking the violin under his chin, he drew the bow back and
+forth, at first with a lingering, uncertain touch, but soon with an
+increasing firmness and accuracy that bespoke an old-time skill.
+Gradually he gathered confidence, and a bubbling flood of liquid music
+gushed from the vibrating strings.</p>
+
+<p>At first he played a medley of fragments, short snatches from old tunes,
+each shading imperceptibly into the one that followed, blending into a
+whole that chorded with the night and sea and wind and the driftwood
+fire crackling in the little stove in the lonely island cabin. The boys
+sat motionless, listening, brooding over the visions the music opened to
+each. They had never heard such music before. Even Percy had to
+acknowledge that, as he leaned breathlessly forward, eyes glued to the
+dancing bow.</p>
+
+<p>One final, long, slow sweep, and the last notes<span class='pagenum'><a name="page192" id="page192">[Pg 192]</a></span> died away, mellow and
+silvery as a distant bell. The musician raised his bowed head and looked
+about.</p>
+
+<p>"More!" begged the boys.</p>
+
+<p>With a nod of assent, he began "Annie Laurie." His audience sat
+spellbound. "Flow Gently, Sweet Afton" followed; and he closed with
+"Auld Lang Syne." Then he laid the violin carefully on the table and
+burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>For two or three minutes nobody spoke. Filippo was weeping silently;
+Percy cleared his throat; and even the other three were conscious of a
+slight huskiness. The evening was turning out differently from what they
+had anticipated.</p>
+
+<p>Brushing away his tears, the stranger controlled himself with a strong
+effort.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what you'll think of me, boys," said he, shamefacedly.
+"I'm sorry to have made such an exhibition of myself. But music always
+did affect me; besides, it's wakened some old memories. Guess I'd better
+be going now."</p>
+
+<p>He half rose.</p>
+
+<p>"Stay awhile longer," urged Jim; and the others seconded the invitation.</p>
+
+<p>Thorpe sank back on his box.</p>
+
+<p>"You won't have to persuade me very hard. Evenings alone on the <i>Helen</i>
+are pretty long."</p>
+
+<p>His eye fell on Percy's &AElig;neid on the shelf beside the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Aha! Who's reading Virgil?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am," confessed Percy. "Making up college conditions."</p>
+
+<p>The stranger looked at him keenly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page193" id="page193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Conditions, eh? Guess you don't need to have any, unless you want 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Found you at home there, Perce!" laughed Lane.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't propose to have any more after this summer," averred Percy,
+stoutly.</p>
+
+<p>"Stick to that!" encouraged Thorpe. "There's enough have 'em that can't
+help it."</p>
+
+<p>Taking down the volume, he opened it at the beginning of the first book,
+and began reading aloud, dividing the lines into feet:</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><i>"Arma virumque cano, Trojae qui primus ab oris Italiam, fato
+profugus, Laviniaque venit.</i></p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't want to say how long it's been since I last set eyes on that.
+Probably you boys notice that I use the English pronunciation of Latin
+instead of the continental; it's what I had when I was in college."</p>
+
+<p>"What was your college?" inquired Percy.</p>
+
+<p>Melancholy darkened Thorpe's face again.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind about that," he replied, a little brusquely.</p>
+
+<p>Glancing round the cabin, he caught sight of Throppy's wireless outfit;
+soon the two were engaged in an interested discussion on wave-lengths
+and the effect of atmospheric disturbances. Later he was talking over
+the lobster law with Jim, and life-insurance with Lane. He seemed to be
+equally at home on all subjects.</p>
+
+<p>Eight o'clock came before they realized it. The stranger's face suddenly
+grew somber.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys," said he, "I must be going now. You've<span class='pagenum'><a name="page194" id="page194">[Pg 194]</a></span> given me a mighty
+pleasant evening and I sha'n't forget it right away. You'll think it a
+strange thing for me to say, but the best return I can make for your
+kindness is to tell you something about myself."</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"You asked me what my college was. I'm not going to answer that
+question, but I'll say this: At the end of its catalogue of graduates
+you'll find a page headed 'Lost Alumni,' and my name&mdash;my real name&mdash;is
+there. It's a list of those whose addresses are unknown to the college
+authorities, men who have dropped out, gone back, disappeared. Nobody
+knows what's become of 'em, and by and by nobody cares. That's just what
+I am&mdash;a lost alumnus! And it's better for me to stay lost!"</p>
+
+<p>With trembling hands he picked up a worm-eaten stick beside the stove.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm like this stick now&mdash;only driftwood! Once I was young and sound and
+strong as any one of you&mdash;just as this wood was once. Now&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Lifting the stove cover, he flung the stick into the fire; a burst of
+sparks shot up.</p>
+
+<p>"That's all it's fit for; and it's all I'm fit for, too! Name ...
+character ... friends ... home ... all gone&mdash;all gone!"</p>
+
+<p>He took a step toward the door, then halted.</p>
+
+<p>"I've told you this because it may do some one of you some good while
+there's time. Don't throw your lives away, as I've thrown away mine!"</p>
+
+<p>The sober, startled faces of his hearers apparently recalled him to
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry I spoke so freely," he apologized. "Forget<span class='pagenum'><a name="page195" id="page195">[Pg 195]</a></span> it, boys, and forget
+me! Everybody else has. Good night!"</p>
+
+<p>He opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you stop ashore with us?" invited Spurling. "We can fix you up a
+bunk."</p>
+
+<p>"No; I must go aboard. My dog and cats would be lonesome; wouldn't sleep
+a wink without me. They're mighty knowing animals."</p>
+
+<p>He went out and closed the door. The boys looked at one another. Lane
+was the first to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"What d'you suppose was the matter with him? Must have been something
+pretty bad to make him feel that way. But, say! Didn't he make that
+violin talk? Never heard anything like it before!"</p>
+
+<p>That night the boys went to bed feeling unusually serious. Percy, in
+particular, did not get to sleep until late. The stranger's remarks had
+given him much food for thought.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning, before sunrise, the barking of Oliver Cromwell and a
+thin, blue smoke curling from the stovepipe of the <i>Helen</i> told that the
+lost alumnus was preparing breakfast. Jim and Percy had started off with
+their trawls some time before. Stevens volunteered to help their visitor
+repair his boom, so Filippo went out with Lane to haul the
+lobster-traps.</p>
+
+<p>All the boys were back at noon, when Thorpe, repairs made, waved
+farewell and sailed slowly out of the cove, dog and cats manning the
+side of the <i>Helen</i>, as if for a last salute. Throppy told of his
+morning's work.</p>
+
+<p>"Tried to pay me for what I did; but of course<span class='pagenum'><a name="page196" id="page196">[Pg 196]</a></span> I wouldn't take
+anything. You might not think it, but, inside, that old boat is as neat
+as wax. Got a good library on board, too; books there that were beyond
+me. All the current magazines. Easy to see how he keeps up to date about
+everything."</p>
+
+<p>At two o'clock that afternoon in popped the <i>Calista</i> in quest of
+lobsters. The boys told her captain about their strange caller. Higgins
+laughed shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"What&mdash;old Thorpe! Oh yes, I've known of him these twenty years!
+Mystery? Not so much as you might think. It's the same mystery that's
+ruined a lot of other men&mdash;John Barleycorn! Thorpe showed up from nobody
+knows where about a quarter of a century ago; and ever since then he's
+been banging up and down the coast in that old boat. They say he's a
+college graduate gone to the bad from drink."</p>
+
+<p>"What supports him?" asked Lane. "Does he fish?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not more than enough to supply himself and his live stock. I've heard
+he's got wealthy relatives who furnish him with all the money he needs.
+He likes to live in this style, and they like to have him. He's out of
+their way, and they're out of his. In the winter he ties the sloop up in
+some harbor and stops aboard."</p>
+
+<p>"He seemed to be sober enough last night," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; when he's all right you couldn't ask for a man to be more
+peaceable or gentlemanly; but when he's in liquor, look out! I passed
+him a month ago one squally day off Monhegan, running before the<span class='pagenum'><a name="page197" id="page197">[Pg 197]</a></span> wind,
+sheet fast, shot to the eyes, and yelling like a wild man. It's a
+dangerous trick to make that sheet fast on a squally day, or on any day
+at all, for that matter. Some time he'll do it once too often. Well, as
+the saying goes, 'When rum's in, wit's out!' How's lobsters?"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page198" id="page198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XVII</h2>
+
+<h3>BLOWN OFF</h3>
+
+<p>At two o'clock on a Friday morning toward the end of August Spurling and
+Whittington started with six tubs of trawl, baited with salted herring,
+for Clay Bank. Long before sunrise the last fathom of ground-line had
+gone overboard and the tubs were empty.</p>
+
+<p>Swinging the <i>Barracouta</i> about, they retraced their course to the first
+buoy.</p>
+
+<p>A long, oily ocean swell, heaving in from the south, undulated the
+breezeless sea. The air was mild, almost suspiciously so. Dawn was
+breaking redly as they reached their starting-point and prepared to pull
+in the trawl.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll haul the first half, Perce," volunteered Spurling.</p>
+
+<p>Drawing the dory alongside, he cast off her painter and sprang aboard.
+Before taking in the buoy he stood for a half-minute, scanning sky and
+sea.</p>
+
+<p>"Almost too fine!" he remarked. "I don't like that crimson east. You
+remember how the rhyme goes:</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">"A red sky in the morning,<br />
+Sailors take warning.</p>
+
+<p>Looks to me like a weather-breeder. Those swells remind me of a lazy,
+good-natured, purring tiger.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page199" id="page199">[Pg 199]</a></span> You wouldn't think they'd swamp a toy
+boat; but let the wind blow over 'em a few hours and it's an entirely
+different matter. Still, I don't think we'll see any really bad weather
+before midnight at the earliest. Guess we'd better plan not to set
+to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>He was soon unhooking hake and coiling the trawl into its tub. Percy
+kept the <i>Barracouta</i> close by. At the middle buoy he relieved Spurling
+in the dory. The set yielded over two thousand pounds of fish,
+principally good-sized hake.</p>
+
+<p>"Very fair morning's work," said Spurling. "We'll leave that last load
+in the dory. Now for home!"</p>
+
+<p>Soon the sloop was heading for Tarpaulin, the weighted dory towing
+behind. They were almost up to Brimstone Point when, with a final
+explosion, the engine stopped. Spurling gave an exclamation of mingled
+disgust and relief.</p>
+
+<p>"Something's broken! Well, we're lucky it didn't give way five miles
+back. It'd have been a tough job to warp her in so far, with a white-ash
+breeze. Cast off that dory, Perce!"</p>
+
+<p>As Percy pulled the smaller craft alongside the distant quick-fire of an
+approaching engine fell upon his ears. He glanced quickly toward the
+northeast.</p>
+
+<p>"No blisters for us this morning!" he shouted. "Here comes Captain Ben
+in the <i>Calista!</i> He'll tow us in."</p>
+
+<p>Presently the lobster-smack was alongside, and soon the <i>Calista</i>, with
+sloop and dory in tow, was heading for Sprowl's Cove. Jim and Percy had
+left their boat and come on board the smack. They noticed that Higgins
+seemed unusually serious.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page200" id="page200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter, Cap?" inquired Spurling. "Any trouble with
+lobsters?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied the captain, soberly, "there's no trouble with lobsters,
+so far as I know. Haven't met with any losses to speak of, and I'm
+paying twenty-five cents a pound. But something's happened to a friend
+of yours. Remember that stranger who made you a call a couple of weeks
+ago?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure! What about him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, coming across from Swan's Island yesterday afternoon, I nearly
+ran over a boat, bottom up, close to Griffin Ledge. I managed to spell
+out the name on her stem; it was the old <i>Helen</i>. Thorpe had made his
+sheet fast once too often, as I've always said he would. So he's gone,
+dog, cats, and the whole shooting-match. I cruised about for a while to
+see if I could find anything, but it wasn't any use; the tide runs over
+those ledges like a river. The old fellow had a good streak in him, and
+I'm all-fired sorry he had to go that way. It only shows what rum can do
+for a man, if you give it a fair chance."</p>
+
+<p>The tragic news had a sobering effect upon the boys. Percy, in
+particular, remembering the habits of certain of his friends, took the
+story to heart. Nobody said anything more until they were inside the
+cove and running toward the lobster-car. Budge and Throppy saw them
+coming and rowed out in the pea-pod.</p>
+
+<p>While the lobsters were being dipped aboard the smack and weighed,
+Spurling tinkered the <i>Barracouta's</i> engine. At last he discovered the
+cause of the breakdown.</p>
+
+<p>"Broken piston-rod!" he exclaimed. "That means<span class='pagenum'><a name="page201" id="page201">[Pg 201]</a></span> a trip to Matinicus. And
+we've got to go right away, so we can get back before night ahead of the
+storm that's coming. We must fix that engine, or we may lose two or
+three days' good fishing, after the sea smooths down. Perce, you and
+I'll go in the dory. You other fellows'll have to dress those hake alone
+this time."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tow you across, Jimmy," offered Higgins. "But it looks a bit
+smurry to me. I think there may be a norther coming; and you wouldn't
+want to get caught out in that. Remember what happened to Bill Carlin!"</p>
+
+<p>"I know," answered Spurling. "But that engine's no good without a
+piston-rod. I was born in a dory. Besides, if it should blow too hard,
+we can stop on Wooden Ball or Seal Island."</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes later the <i>Calista</i>, with Jim and Percy aboard and the
+dory in tow, was moving away from Tarpaulin. An easy run of two hours
+brought them to Matinicus. Higgins dropped his anchor in the outer
+harbor near Wheaton's Island, and the boys rowed ashore in their dory,
+landing in the head of the little cove near the fish-wharf.</p>
+
+<p>Percy made a few necessary purchases at the store while Jim attended to
+the piston-rod. A half-hour later they were pushing off the dory, ready
+for their long row back. The sky was hazy and the sea calm. In the outer
+harbor Captain Ben hailed them from the <i>Calista</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"Be good to yourselves, boys, and don't risk too much. You won't have
+any trouble getting to Seal Island; if it looks bad, you'd better hang
+up there with Pliny Ferguson. He'll be glad of company at<span class='pagenum'><a name="page202" id="page202">[Pg 202]</a></span> his shack for
+the next two days; for, unless I'm 'way off, there won't be many trawls
+set or traps pulled until next Monday. I'm going to stick to Matinicus
+till the blow is over."</p>
+
+<p>It was still calm when they passed the Black Ledges and headed for the
+northeast point of Wooden Ball. Jim was rowing, and the dory drove
+easily onward under his powerful strokes.</p>
+
+<p>Percy looked north. The mountains on the mainland had vanished, and even
+the heights on Vinalhaven were being blotted out; but as yet not a
+breath of air disturbed the glassy, undulating sea.</p>
+
+<p>They were now only a few hundred feet north of the ledges on the
+extremity of the Ball. The swell was breaking white against its
+barnacled granite boulders in a long, crashing rumble.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me spell you at the oars, Jim," said Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't care if you do! And pass that bag of hard bread forward! I feel
+hungry enough to eat the whole of it. Wonder what Filippo'll have for
+supper to-night!"</p>
+
+<p>The boys had been in such a hurry to get away from Matinicus that they
+had not taken time for any dinner; so both had keen appetites. Jim made
+a hearty lunch on the crisp crackers. Percy's mouth watered as he swung
+to and fro at the oars, facing his companion. Ten weeks ago he would
+have disdained such plain fare; but now he could eat it with a relish.
+His gristle was hardening into bone.</p>
+
+<p>Four or five of the brittle disks satisfied Jim's hunger.</p>
+
+<p>"Your turn now, Perce! Let me take her again!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hadn't I better row a little longer?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page203" id="page203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No! I feel good for five miles. Those crackers put the strength into a
+man."</p>
+
+<p>Percy attacked the bag with an appetite equal to Jim's. Malcolm's Ledges
+were near, breaking white half-way from the Ball to Seal Island. To
+Percy's ears the roar of the surf sounded louder.</p>
+
+<p>"Sea's making up a bit, isn't it, Jim?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but I don't think it'll amount to anything for a long time yet."</p>
+
+<p>Down swept a squall from the north, roughening and darkening the water.
+The dory careened a trifle as it smote her side.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Perce, we're more than a third of the way home. There's Brimstone
+Point, eight miles ahead. We may see a little rough water before we get
+there. Lucky you're not seasick nowadays!"</p>
+
+<p>The squall passed, but left a steady breeze blowing in its wake. The sky
+was gray, the sea leaden. The horizon all around seemed to be
+contracting, and the familiar islands were losing their height.</p>
+
+<p>They ran to leeward of the breaker on Gully Ledge, and passed into
+smooth water under the protecting barrier of Seal Island. Pliny
+Ferguson's shack was in plain view, and its owner came out and swung his
+hand to them. Spurling remembered Captain Higgins's advice, and
+hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you say, Perce? I'll put it up to you. Shall we keep on or stop
+here with Pliny? Seems to me there isn't the least doubt about our
+reaching the island before dark; but I don't want to make you run any
+needless risk. So I'll do as you say. Pliny'll be glad to make us
+comfortable, and we can slip across after the gale is over."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page204" id="page204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Percy scanned the steep, desolate cliffs a half-mile to the north.</p>
+
+<p>"What would you do if you were alone, Jim?"</p>
+
+<p>"Make for Tarpaulin as fast as oars would take me."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I say keep on!"</p>
+
+<p>"Keep on it is, then," assented Spurling.</p>
+
+<p>Shielded from the wind by the high shore, the dory sped on east by
+south. The island was over a mile long. When they emerged from the
+protection of the ledges on its eastern end they could see that the
+breeze had increased in force. Up to windward in the direction of Isle
+au Haut Bay occasional white-caps were breaking.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling stopped rowing and took a long look around. Then he pulled off
+his sweater, settled himself firmly on the thwart, and braced his heels
+against the timber nailed across the bottom of the dory. His oar-blades
+caught the water with a long, steady stroke.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll head north of the island," he said to Percy, after a few minutes
+of vigorous rowing. "The flood'll be running for the next three hours,
+and that'd naturally set us toward the north; but before we get to
+Tarpaulin the wind'll be blowing us the other way. We've got to allow
+for both."</p>
+
+<p>Fifteen minutes went by, thirty, a full hour. Little by little Seal
+Island sank behind them and the familiar outlines of Tarpaulin loomed
+clearer and higher. The increasing breeze, blowing against the ocean
+current, kicked up a lively chop, on which the dory danced skittishly.
+It took all Spurling's strength and skill to drive her onward.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page205" id="page205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At four o'clock they still had between four and five miles to go. The
+sea was alive with white horses. As the boat fell into the trough Percy
+momentarily lost sight of the island. He now recognized Spurling's
+wisdom in heading so far north of their goal. But for that they would
+inevitably have been blown off their course.</p>
+
+<p>Jim was buckling to his task like a Trojan. Bare-headed, shirt open at
+the neck, sleeves rolled up above his elbows, he swayed to and fro, a
+tireless, human machine. His blades entered the rough sea cleanly and
+came out on the feather. Admiringly, almost enviously, Percy watched the
+play of the banded muscles on his brawny forearms. He would have given
+anything to be as strong as his dory-mate.</p>
+
+<p>Past five o'clock, and still over two miles to the island. It was
+growing rougher every minute. The gale had fairly begun. It sheared the
+crests off the racing billows and flung them over the boat in showers of
+spray. Now and then a bucketful came aboard. It kept Percy busy bailing.</p>
+
+<p>Occasionally Jim brought the dory head to the wind and lay on his oars
+to rest. After all, human muscles, powerful as they may be, are not
+steel and india-rubber.</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty rough, isn't it?" said he, at one of these intervals. "Seasick,
+old man? You look a little white around the gills."</p>
+
+<p>Percy shook his head. The situation was too serious for seasickness. In
+spite of the jocularity of his words, Jim's voice sounded hollow. Both
+of them knew that it meant a hard fight to reach Tarpaulin.</p>
+
+<p>Silence, gray and leaden as the misty sky, settled<span class='pagenum'><a name="page206" id="page206">[Pg 206]</a></span> over the dory.
+Spurling was throwing all the strength he possessed into every stroke;
+Percy bailed continuously. It took considerably more than an hour to
+make the next mile and a half. A rainy haze, driving down from the
+north, had shrouded the island, and Brimstone Point was barely visible.</p>
+
+<p>Jim's strokes were slower; they lacked their earlier force. His face
+showed the strain of the last hour. Uneasily Percy noted these signs of
+weariness.</p>
+
+<p>"Tired, Jim?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>The brief monosyllable struck Percy with dismay. If Spurling's strength
+should give out, what would happen to the dory?</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you want me to row awhile?"</p>
+
+<p>"You can take her for a few minutes."</p>
+
+<p>Scrambling forward, Percy grasped the oars and took Jim's place on the
+thwart. The latter lay down flat on his back in the bottom of the dory.
+Apparently he was not far from complete exhaustion.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep her up into the wind as well as you can," he directed.</p>
+
+<p>Percy did his best; but he found it a hard job. The gale, now far
+stronger than the tide that flowed against it under the surface, was
+forcing them steadily southward. Brimstone Point could just be seen, a
+half-mile to the northeast.</p>
+
+<p>Though he pulled his heart out, Percy could tell that he was losing
+ground, or rather water, every second. The wind mocked his efforts. He
+could not keep the boat on her course. Big rollers swashed against the
+port bow and broke aboard. Jim raised<span class='pagenum'><a name="page207" id="page207">[Pg 207]</a></span> a drenched face, haggard with
+weariness, and took in the situation.</p>
+
+<p>"Harder, Perce!" he urged. "Hold her up till I can get my breath. It's
+the ocean for us to-night, if we don't hit Brimstone."</p>
+
+<p>Spurred by this exhortation, Percy jerked at the oars savagely and
+unskilfully. As he swayed back there was a sharp snap, and the starboard
+oar broke squarely, just above the blade.</p>
+
+<p>Round swung the dory, head to the south. Up started Spurling with a cry
+of alarm, his fatigue forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>"You've done it now!"</p>
+
+<p>Wrenching the port oar from his horrified mate, he sprang aft, dropped
+it in the notch on the stern, headed the boat once more for the island,
+and began sculling with all his might.</p>
+
+<p>It was a hopeless attempt. However strong he might be, no man with only
+one oar could make headway into the teeth of such a gale. For a time his
+desperate efforts held the dory in her place. Then little by little she
+began to go astern.</p>
+
+<p>With sinking heart Percy watched Spurling's shoulders rack and twist as
+he threw his last ounce into his sculling. By degrees his motions became
+slower and more painful. Suddenly he pulled in the oar and dropped it
+clattering aboard.</p>
+
+<p>"No use!" he groaned as he toppled backward and collapsed in the bottom
+of the dory.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page208" id="page208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>BUOY OR BREAKER</h3>
+
+<p>Consternation seized Percy. Never before had he known Jim to acknowledge
+himself beaten. Their plight must be serious indeed.</p>
+
+<p>The dory swung side to the sea and sank into the trough. A half-barrel
+of water slopped aboard. Percy bestirred himself. Setting the oar in the
+scull-hole, he brought the boat's head once more into the wind. He was
+not strong enough to drive her against it; but he could at least keep
+her pointed into the teeth of the gale and prevent her from swamping. He
+dropped to his knees, for it was too rough for him to keep his balance
+if he stood upright.</p>
+
+<p>How far off was Tarpaulin? As he looked back a red glare sprang up
+northeast. Budge and Throppy had fired the driftwood beacon on Brimstone
+Point. Small good it would do Jim and himself <ins class="correction" title="Original: no full stop">to-night.</ins></p>
+
+<p>They could not reach the island with one oar, and it was now too dark
+for their friends on Tarpaulin to make out the drifting dory.</p>
+
+<p>Percy began sculling frantically.</p>
+
+<p>"Hi! Hi! Hulloo-oo!" he yelled. "Oh, Budge! Oh, Throppy! We're going to
+sea! Come out and get us!"</p>
+
+<p>It was like shouting against a solid wall. His cries<span class='pagenum'><a name="page209" id="page209">[Pg 209]</a></span> were whirled away
+by the gale. Presently he became silent, realizing that he was wasting
+his breath.</p>
+
+<p>Rapidly the dory drifted seaward. The fire dimmed to a misty red glow. A
+smart shower burst, and great drops spattered over the dory.</p>
+
+<p>Jim sat up. He turned his face toward the island, and Percy knew his
+eyes had caught the dying beacon. He said nothing; there was nothing to
+say. In a little while all was black, north, east, south, and west.</p>
+
+<p>Then Jim spoke, and his voice was as calm and deliberate as if he were
+in the cabin on the island, instead of a mile to leeward, driving to sea
+before a norther.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Perce, we're in for it! I'm sorry I spoke so sharp when you broke
+that oar. It's an accident liable to happen to anybody. Let's take
+account of stock! We're in for a night and more on the water, and we
+want to do our best to keep on top of it, and not under it, until the
+gale blows itself out. The prospect isn't exactly rosy; still, it might
+be a blamed sight worse. We're in a good dory, and that's the best sea
+boat that floats."</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't we likely to be picked up before morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty slim chance. Everything small has scooted to harbor long before
+this. We haven't any light, and a vessel or steamer large enough to pay
+no attention to the storm would be as liable to run us down as to pick
+us up. So about the best we can hope for is to have everything give us a
+wide berth until daylight."</p>
+
+<p>"Will the gale last as long as that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Longer, I'm afraid. 'Most always we have one<span class='pagenum'><a name="page210" id="page210">[Pg 210]</a></span> good, big norther in
+August that blows two or three days. I'm really the one to blame for
+getting us into this mess. I know the sea, and you don't. I ought to
+have had brains enough to stop on Seal Island. Well, it's no use crying
+over spilled milk. The only thing now is to try not to spill any more."</p>
+
+<p>The rain was descending in torrents. Storm and night drew a narrow
+circle of gloom about the reeling boat.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling tried to rise to his feet. The dory jumped like a bucking
+horse, and he caught the gunwale just in time to escape being pitched
+overboard.</p>
+
+<p>"Jerusalem!" he gasped. "Guess I won't try that again! Hands and knees
+are good enough for me. Hold her, Perce! I'll throw out some of this
+water."</p>
+
+<p>Kneeling in the flood that swashed from bow to stern, he bailed
+vigorously until the boat was fairly clear.</p>
+
+<p>"No use wearing ourselves out trying to keep her head to it with the
+oar!" said he. "I'm going to rig a drug!"</p>
+
+<p>Directly under Percy's arms, as he sculled, was a trawl-tub containing
+their purchases at Matinicus. These Jim tossed into the stern. Taking
+the tub, he crept forward. A lanyard of six-thread manila, put across
+double between holes in the top of its sides, formed a rope bridle or
+bail. To the middle of this bail Jim tied the thirty-foot painter with a
+clove hitch. Then he dropped the tub over the bow.</p>
+
+<p>"Pull in your oar, Perce!" he called out.</p>
+
+<p>Percy obeyed gladly. A heavy sea struck the dory. She reared, shot back,
+and started to swing sidewise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page211" id="page211">[Pg 211]</a></span> Then the "drug" caught her, and she
+seesawed again up into the wind and rode springily.</p>
+
+<p>The tub, filled with water, and drifting on its side thirty feet before
+the bow at the end of the straightened-out painter, formed a floating
+anchor, which held the dory head to the wind and sea. Practically
+submerged, and offering the gale no surface to get hold of, it moved
+much more slowly than the high-sided boat, and so retarded its course.</p>
+
+<p>Jim came crawling aft again.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess that'll hold her!" he exclaimed. "I've strengthened the lanyard
+with some ground-line, and it ought to last us through the night. We'll
+be as snug as if we were in Sprowl's Cove, hey, Perce?"</p>
+
+<p>Percy could hardly agree with him. The roaring, rain-shot blackness,
+roofed with murky clouds and floored with rushing surges, was not
+calculated to inspire confidence in a landsman. With every sea the dory
+leaped back several feet, until the straightened painter brought her up.
+Showers of spray flew over the boys. It was well both were clad in
+oilskins.</p>
+
+<p>They were not entirely without light. The water was firing. Every
+breaking wave dissolved in phosphorescence. The tub before the bow was
+outlined in radiance; the whipping painter was transmuted to a rope of
+silver; and as the dory split the crashing rollers they streamed away in
+sparkles of ghostly flame. Even in their peril the boys could not help
+appreciating the weird beauty of the display.</p>
+
+<p>"Wonderful, isn't it?" said Percy. "Say, Jim, how far south's the
+nearest land?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page212" id="page212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Somewhere around two thousand miles, I guess. Too far to interest us
+any. I think it's one of the West Indies."</p>
+
+<p>The wind was growing stronger, the sea rougher. Now and then a young
+flood set both boys bailing, Jim with the bucket, Percy with the scoop.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't do to let it gain too much on us," remarked Jim. "She can't sink;
+but if she should fill it'd be pretty uncomfortable."</p>
+
+<p>The rain had ceased; the clouds did not hang so low. Suddenly Percy gave
+a whoop of joy.</p>
+
+<p>"Look in the west!"</p>
+
+<p>Not far above the horizon appeared a rift of clear blue sky, sown with
+stars. Longer and wider it grew. Other rifts added themselves to it, and
+in an unbelievably short time the entire heaven was swept clean. But
+somehow the wind seemed to blow harder than before.</p>
+
+<p>"How soon will it calm down?" asked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>Jim shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't say! May be a dry blow for two days longer."</p>
+
+<p>He looked eastward.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that coming? Steamer?"</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough it was. Below the white light on the masthead appeared and
+disappeared the red and green, obscured intermittently by the tossing
+waves. Soon they could be seen all the time. Percy began to grow
+excited.</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose they'll pick us up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a chance in a thousand. It's too rough for the lookout to spy our
+boat, and, even if the steamer should come close, we could never make
+her hear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page213" id="page213">[Pg 213]</a></span> She's either a tramp or an ocean liner from Halifax for
+Portland."</p>
+
+<p>On she plowed unswervingly and majestically, straight toward them.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid she's coming too near for comfort," said Jim, anxiously.
+"She might run us down and never know it. Lots of fishermen have gone
+that way. Ship that oar in the scull-hole. I'm going to haul in the
+drug."</p>
+
+<p>He lifted the trawl-tub aboard and sprang quickly aft.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll know pretty quick whether she's likely to pass ahead or astern.
+We can't count on being seen. We've got to look out for ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>Freed from its floating anchor, the dory bobbed wildly. Wielding his oar
+skilfully, Spurling held her bow to the north, ready to scull for the
+last inch, or to let her drop back, as the approach of the steamer might
+make it advisable.</p>
+
+<p>Closer and closer came the big boat; her lights oscillated with
+pendulum-like regularity as she rolled on the heavy seas.</p>
+
+<p>"She'll pass astern," was Jim's verdict. "Won't do to drift in front of
+her."</p>
+
+<p>He sculled strongly, keeping an anxious eye on the threatening monster.
+Percy's hair bristled.</p>
+
+<p>"Harder, Jim!" he shouted. "She's going to run us down! Steamer ahoy!
+Keep off! Keep off!"</p>
+
+<p>The rushing foam smothered his cries. Meanwhile Spurling worked like a
+steam-engine. Two lives hung on his oar-blade.</p>
+
+<p>As the knife-like stem sheared past, close astern, the green eye
+disappeared; the red glared menac<span class='pagenum'><a name="page214" id="page214">[Pg 214]</a></span>ingly down from the huge bulk looming
+overhead. Then the lofty black side swept by, flashing an occasional ray
+from a lighted port-hole. The screw gave them a sickening moment, but
+they soon tossed safely astern, breathing hard, eyes on the dwindling
+leviathan, wallowing westward.</p>
+
+<p>Jim spoke first: "Close as they make 'em! I'm glad that's over!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy agreed with all his heart. Jim had discovered that the tub was
+becoming a bit shaky, so he reinforced the lanyard, and strengthened the
+bottom by binding it with ground-line. Before long it was towing again
+in front of the bow, as good as new.</p>
+
+<p>Hours passed, but the intensity of the gale did not slacken. The sea was
+frightfully rough. It kept the boys bailing continually.</p>
+
+<p>Dawn broke at last. On the eastern horizon grew a pale light, against
+which the ragged, savagely leaping crests were silhouetted weirdly. It
+brightened to a crimson glow, and soon the sun was shooting its fiery
+arrows across the heaving, glittering waste.</p>
+
+<p>The forenoon wore slowly on as they drifted steadily south. The water
+around the dory was alive with whirlpools. Gigantic green seas rushed
+down as if to overwhelm her, but she flirted her bow aloft and rode them
+stanchly.</p>
+
+<p>Percy, glancing to starboard, saw a black fin cutting the slope of a
+watery ridge.</p>
+
+<p>"Shark, Jim?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. And there's another to port. They're looking for trouble. They'll
+stick by till we're out of this scrape or in a worse one."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page215" id="page215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He was right. The sun reached its zenith and began to descend, but still
+the black fins wove their ceaseless circles round the boat.</p>
+
+<p>Jim had been scanning the sea, hand over his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a schooner," he remarked, without enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>Percy was all excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"Where? Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"Up there, two miles to windward. Double reefed and clawing west. She'd
+never see us in a thousand years, and if she did she couldn't do us any
+good. Forget her!"</p>
+
+<p>The schooner inched her way imperceptibly under the horizon. The boys
+had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours; excitement had prevented them
+from feeling hungry. Now they came to a realization that they had
+stomachs, and they finished half the hard bread remaining in the bag.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll save the rest," decided Jim. "May need it worse later than we do
+now."</p>
+
+<p>Percy could easily have eaten twice his share, but he recognized the
+wisdom of Jim's decision. Both were very thirsty, but without a drop of
+fresh water aboard there was nothing to do but wait.</p>
+
+<p>At four o'clock came disaster. The drug suddenly let go!</p>
+
+<p>Round whirled the dory, side to the seas. Jim grabbed the oar and jammed
+it into the scull-hole, but before he could wet the blade a crumbling
+roller almost swamped the boat. Out went everything that would float.</p>
+
+<p>"Save that bucket, Perce!" shouted Spurring.</p>
+
+<p>Percy clutched the handle just as the pail was go<span class='pagenum'><a name="page216" id="page216">[Pg 216]</a></span>ing over the side. He
+bailed, while Spurling brought the flooded craft stern to the seas.</p>
+
+<p>"Take her now, Perce! Give me the bucket!"</p>
+
+<p>Furiously he began scooping out the water. After a long, discouraging
+fight the boat was bailed clear.</p>
+
+<p>"We've got to run before it while I rig another drug," said Spurling.
+"Keep her as she is."</p>
+
+<p>In the stern stood a five-gallon can of gasolene, one of the few things
+that had not been washed overboard when the dory filled. Making use of
+the sadly diminished coil of ground-line, Jim fastened this can to the
+end of the painter. Picking a smooth chance, he swung the bow up into
+the wind again; and soon they were floating snugly behind their new
+drug.</p>
+
+<p>For another hour they drifted uneventfully. Out of a cloudless sky the
+red sun dropped below the flying spindrift. A second night was coming,
+and still the norther raged with undiminished violence.</p>
+
+<p>It was growing dark and the stars were already out when a new sound fell
+on Percy's ears.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>Up from the south came a faint, long-drawn, mournful voice,
+<i>Oo-oo-oo-ooh!</i> They listened breathlessly. It sounded again,
+<i>Oo-oo-oo-ooh!</i></p>
+
+<p>"Whistling buoy!" ejaculated Jim. He thought a moment. "Cashe's Ledge!"
+he shouted. "Sixty miles south of Tarpaulin! That's drifting some since
+yesterday afternoon. Must be less than a mile to leeward or we couldn't
+hear it against this gale."</p>
+
+<p>Nearer and nearer, louder and louder, sounded the melancholy note, just
+west of south. Both boys strained their eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I see it!" cried Percy, triumphantly. "There<span class='pagenum'><a name="page217" id="page217">[Pg 217]</a></span>&mdash;rising on that swell!
+Almost astern! It's striped red and black!"</p>
+
+<p>But Jim gave him no heed. Lips parted and face pale, he was gazing
+intently at something farther off. Suddenly he lifted his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen! Do you hear that?"</p>
+
+<p>Above the noise of the surrounding sea rose a low, savage roar. Percy
+caught Jim's alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"The breaker on the shoal! Sometimes it combs up high as a house. It's
+less than a quarter-mile southwest of the buoy, and we're drifting
+straight down upon it! If we go over it, we'll be swamped, sure as fate,
+drug or no drug! We'll simply be buried under tons and tons of water!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy fought off his panic.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we do?" he stammered.</p>
+
+<p>"Make the whistler&mdash;if we can. It's buoy or breaker, and mighty quick,
+too!"</p>
+
+<p>The dory's drift, if unchanged, would take her several yards west of the
+steel can crowned with its red whistle-cage. Its warning blast set the
+air vibrating, <i>Oo-oo-oo-ooh!</i></p>
+
+<p>Jim snatched out his knife and sprang forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Oar in the scull-hole, Perce! Lively!"</p>
+
+<p>Driving the point of his blade into the side of the bow, he dragged the
+painter in until he reached the gasolene-can. Severing the rope with one
+quick, strong slash, he scrambled aft and seized the oar.</p>
+
+<p>"Stand by with that painter to jump for the buoy, when I put the bow
+against it! Better take off your shoes first!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy obeyed. In his stocking feet he would be<span class='pagenum'><a name="page218" id="page218">[Pg 218]</a></span> less liable to slip on
+the wet iron. Making a loose coil of the painter, he crouched in the
+bow. Meanwhile Jim had turned the dory round and headed her north of the
+whistler. A strong current was setting toward the shoal. It took all his
+strength to scull against it.</p>
+
+<p>Rapidly they neared the can. About eight feet in diameter at the
+water-line, it tapered to two feet across its flat top, seven feet
+above. From the circumference rose two iron bails, crossing each other
+at right angles, several inches above the whistle, which stood two and
+one-half feet high. A little to one side stuck up the small tube of the
+intake valve. Round the buoy above the water-line were bolted four lugs,
+or iron handles, by which the can could be hoisted on board the
+lighthouse steamer.</p>
+
+<p>As the steel cone sank the whistle bellowed resonantly. Down, down, till
+the waves swept over its top. Then, slowly it began to rise. The
+bellowing cut off, and the air rushed into the intake tube.</p>
+
+<p>Percy watched it, fascinated. Jim's voice roused him to their peril.</p>
+
+<p>"Look sharp! Be ready!"</p>
+
+<p>Less than ten feet of wild black water lay between the madly leaping bow
+and the buoy. Beyond it the shoal broke with an angry roar in a long
+line of crumbling foam. Percy gathered his strength for the leap.</p>
+
+<p>The distance lessened, foot by foot. Foot by foot the red-and-black cone
+emerged, as if thrust up by a giant hand. Percy fastened his eyes on a
+lug.</p>
+
+<p>A grayback heaved the dory forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Now!" screamed Jim.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page219" id="page219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Young Whittington sprang upon the bow thwart, painter end in his right
+hand, and leaped for the lug. A second later the boat crashed against
+the buoy.</p>
+
+<p>His left hand caught the bent iron bar; his right missed it. His body
+thudded against the riveted side, slid down, and he hung by one arm,
+waist-deep in the water.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Oo-oo-oo-ooh!!!</span></p>
+
+<p>From the inverted mouth of the whistle, a few feet above, a hoarse,
+deafening blast roared down into his face.</p>
+
+<p>As he flung up his right hand and passed the end of the painter through
+the lug a body shot over his head. Spurling had leaped on the top of the
+dropping buoy. Percy was dragged down under the surface, the whistle
+still ringing in his ears. He clung desperately to lug and painter.</p>
+
+<p>The vibrations ceased. The can had reached its lowest point. It was
+rising again. Out came his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you hold on a minute, Perce?" roared Spurling's voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," strangled Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Then let go that painter! I've got it."</p>
+
+<p>Hanging head down, his legs twined round a bail, Spurling worked rapidly
+with both hands. Soon he had fastened the rope securely to the lug,
+mooring the dory to the buoy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Oo-oo-oo-ooh!</span></p>
+
+<p>The can was sinking again. Putting both hands under Percy's arms, Jim
+lifted him. Then he lowered his grip to the boy's waist. That terrific
+blast ren<span class='pagenum'><a name="page220" id="page220">[Pg 220]</a></span>dered speech inaudible, but Percy understood. As the water
+raised part of his weight, he scrambled up over his friend's body.</p>
+
+<p>Thirty seconds later, drenched and gasping, they stood clinging to the
+bails on the top of the buoy.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page221" id="page221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XIX</h2>
+
+<h3>ON THE WHISTLER</h3>
+
+<p>Jim was the first to recover his breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" he ejaculated. "Here we are! And mighty fortunate! We'll neither
+of us ever have a closer shave."</p>
+
+<p>He looked southwest, where the ledge was breaking white through the
+gloom, and shook his head. Percy, shivering with excitement, said
+nothing; but he felt as thankful as his mate. They stood close together
+on the circular top, holding on to the crossed bails, waist-high.
+Between them rose the whistle, thirty inches tall. Every time they sank
+in the trough it emitted its dismal bellow.</p>
+
+<p>To leeward the dory wallowed at the end of her painter, almost full of
+water.</p>
+
+<p>"Split her bow when we struck," said Spurling. "Just as well not to be
+in her. At any rate, we're not drifting."</p>
+
+<p>Their position, however, was none too secure. The buoy had a rise and
+fall of seven feet. Unsteadied by keel or rudder, it bobbed unexpectedly
+this way and that. The boys were obliged to cling fast to keep their
+footing on the narrow, slippery top.</p>
+
+<p>A sudden jump of the rolling can wrenched Percy's<span class='pagenum'><a name="page222" id="page222">[Pg 222]</a></span> right hand from its
+hold. But for his left, he would have been flung into the sea.</p>
+
+<p>"That won't do," said Spurling.</p>
+
+<p>Producing a coil of line, he took three or four turns round Percy's
+waist, and lashed him fast to the bails. He did the same for himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess we'll stick on now," he remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"Where did you get that rope?" asked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all that's left of the ground-line. Thought it might come in
+handy, so I jammed it inside my oil-coat before I jumped. Never can tell
+when you'll need a few feet for something or other."</p>
+
+<p>The screech of the buoy, recurring regularly, set their ears ringing.</p>
+
+<p>"We've got to choke that off!" exclaimed Spurling, finally. "We'll go
+crazy, sure, if we have to listen to it all night."</p>
+
+<p>"How'll you do it? Jam something into the mouth of the whistle?"</p>
+
+<p>"Might smother it that way, but I know an easier one."</p>
+
+<p>He pushed his handkerchief into the curved end of the intake tube just
+as the bellowing buoy reached its lowest point. The next time it sank
+there was no sound.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't sing out unless it fills up with air," remarked Spurling. "It's
+human, so far!"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it all right to shut the signal off altogether? Mightn't some vessel
+strike the shoal if she doesn't hear it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not much chance of that to-night! Everything'll give Cashe's a wide
+berth in a norther. But I'll let it scream a few times every ten min<span class='pagenum'><a name="page223" id="page223">[Pg 223]</a></span>utes.
+That'll be often enough to warn off any craft within hearing."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image15.jpg" width="320" height="512" alt="image15" title="Illustration" />
+<p class="caption" style="text-align: center; font-size: smaller">THEY STOOD CLOSE TOGETHER ON THE CIRCULAR TOP, HOLDING ON
+TO THE CROSSED BAILS, WAIST-HIGH</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The last red embers of the sunset died out, and from horizon to horizon
+the sky was ablaze with stars. Even the boys, wet, hungry, and
+exhausted, could not be blind to such magnificence.</p>
+
+<p>"Good evening to study astronomy, Perce!"</p>
+
+<p>"Never saw a finer! But I'd want a steadier foundation than this for my
+telescope."</p>
+
+<p>As on the previous night, the sea was aglow with phosphorescence. Every
+wave was crested with silver. Buoy and tugging dory kept the water alive
+with light as they rose and fell. Leeward the long shoal broke in
+glittering foam.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling gazed silently down into the eddying tide.</p>
+
+<p>"Runs fast, doesn't it?" said Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; it's the ebb out of Fundy. Comes piling down over Cashe's at a
+two-knot rate. When the flood begins it'll run just as hard the other
+way. That's what makes the shoal so dangerous. There's only from four to
+seven fathoms over the ledge at low water, and that's little enough in a
+storm."</p>
+
+<p>"Were you ever down here before?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; but I've heard Uncle Tom Sprowl tell about the place dozens of
+times. Once, in particular, he was here in a schooner, hand-lining. It
+was almost calm, just a light east wind blowing, when they anchored an
+eighth of a mile to weather of the shoal. Pretty soon the decks were
+alive with fish. It kept breezing on all the time, and the ledge broke
+higher and higher; but they were having such good luck they hated to
+leave. So they hung to it till it got<span class='pagenum'><a name="page224" id="page224">[Pg 224]</a></span> too rough for a small boat, and
+the breaker was twenty or thirty feet high. There was a big cod or
+haddock on every line, when all of a sudden the cable parted and they
+began to blow down on the ledge. It took some lively work to save the
+schooner and themselves. They got sail on her just in time to skin by
+the end of the breaker. Uncle Tom's been out in some pretty bad storms,
+but he's always said the time he parted his cable on Cashe's was the
+closest shave he ever had. See that shark!"</p>
+
+<p>Ten yards off, just under the surface, appeared the glittering outlines
+of a great fish. It moved leisurely, its projecting fin making a silver
+ripple.</p>
+
+<p>"Twelve feet, if he's an inch! I'd hate to fall overboard while he's
+around."</p>
+
+<p>"Think he's a man-eater?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't know! But I'd rather let somebody else find out. There's another!
+I've heard fishermen say the sea round here's alive with 'em. I haven't
+a doubt but those two fellows that chased us to-day are somewhere about.
+Once they get after a boat, they'll follow it till the cows come home.
+Guess I'll let Ole Bull give us a few notes!"</p>
+
+<p>He pulled his handkerchief out of the intake tube. Presently the voice
+of the whistle was echoing across the sea. After a half-dozen screeches
+Spurling stopped up the tube again.</p>
+
+<p>"That'll do for now! We'll give him another chance in ten minutes."</p>
+
+<p>Up and down went the buoy, pitching and reeling dizzily. An occasional
+wave-crest buried the boys to the waist.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page225" id="page225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No place for a man with a weak stomach, hey, Perce," said Spurling.
+"You couldn't have stood this two months ago."</p>
+
+<p>Percy was gazing intently southward.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that white spot?" he asked, suddenly, pointing to a glittering
+patch fifty or sixty yards square.</p>
+
+<p>"School of herring! Now look out for some fun! Something's liable to be
+after 'em any minute."</p>
+
+<p>Hardly had the words left Jim's mouth when a great white streak moved
+rapidly toward the schooling fish.</p>
+
+<p>"Whale!" shouted Spurling, excitedly. "Watch out!"</p>
+
+<p>With a tremendous rush the huge, gleaming body shot suddenly clear of
+the water. For an instant it hung suspended, ten feet above the surface.
+Then, with a mighty splash, it dropped back, right amid the herring. The
+glittering school dispersed in a thousand directions, and the monster
+moved slowly off to the south.</p>
+
+<p>"Biggest whale I ever saw," observed Jim. "Fully seventy feet long!
+Well, he's had one good meal. Wish we could say the same! Hungry, old
+man?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but more thirsty."</p>
+
+<p>"Stick to it! Somebody's likely to show up at any time to-morrow and
+take us off."</p>
+
+<p>"But if they don't&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"We'll have to hang on till they do."</p>
+
+<p>Percy could hardly stand upright. His joints ached. His eyelids sagged
+heavily for want of sleep. He would have given anything if he could have
+lain down. But that was impossible. Something of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="page226" id="page226">[Pg 226]</a></span> father's
+doggedness enabled him to set his teeth and stand clinging to the bails.</p>
+
+<p>Their plight was bad enough, but it might have been much worse. Percy
+shivered a bit as he looked at the wallowing dory and the breaker beyond
+it.</p>
+
+<p>The buoy could not drift. It could not founder. It afforded them a safe
+refuge from wind and sea; but it could not give them food or drink.</p>
+
+<p>Particularly drink. Every atom in Percy's body, every corpuscle in his
+blood, seemed to be crying out for water. It did not seem as if he could
+endure it. He was almost desperate enough to quench his thirst from the
+sea. But, no! Men who did that went crazy. He moistened his dry lips
+with his tongue. If only he could have had a full dipper from the spring
+behind the camp! And he had turned up his nose because it was brackish!</p>
+
+<p>"Wish I had some of Filippo's hot biscuits!" said Jim. "I can taste 'em
+now."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't, Jim! It makes me feel worse. How long can a man stand it without
+eating and drinking?"</p>
+
+<p>"There was a fisherman out of Bass Harbor, last October, who went in a
+power-boat to Clay Bank after hake. His engine played out and he got
+blown off by a northwester. For over five days he didn't have a thing to
+eat or drink. Then he got back to Mount Desert Rock. That's the longest
+I ever heard of."</p>
+
+<p>Five days! And they had not yet gone two. Percy became silent again.</p>
+
+<p>The night dragged painfully. With mortal slowness the Great Bear circled
+the Pole Star. Jim was acquainted with the principal constellations, and
+he ran them over for Percy's benefit. Gradually, how<span class='pagenum'><a name="page227" id="page227">[Pg 227]</a></span>ever, their
+conversation lagged. You cannot feel much interest in astronomy when
+your eyes feel as if they were being pressed down by leaden weights and
+your stomach is absolutely empty.</p>
+
+<p>Percy's body drooped over the bails. Though the position was horribly
+uncomfortable, he had all he could do to prevent himself from going to
+sleep, even despite the occasional screeches of the whistle. With an
+immense effort he stiffened himself upright. Jim was gazing down into
+the water.</p>
+
+<p>"It's going to moderate before long," he remarked, casually.</p>
+
+<p>Percy came wide awake in an instant.</p>
+
+<p>"How can you tell? It's blowing as hard as ever."</p>
+
+<p>"I know that. But the tide doesn't run so strong against the buoy. Just
+as it always makes up before the wind comes, so it begins to go down
+before the wind lessens. I believe the gale'll blow itself out by the
+middle of the forenoon."</p>
+
+<p>The news seemed too good to be true; but it dispelled Percy's
+drowsiness. He pried his eyes open and stared around.</p>
+
+<p>The waves were still running high and breaking in fiery sparkles. The
+silver sharks unwearyingly kept their silent vigil about the rocking
+buoy. Up the eastern horizon was stealing a faint pallor, harbinger of
+the approaching dawn.</p>
+
+<p>Lighter and lighter it grew. The gulls, which had been floating on the
+water all night, began to take wing and fill the air with their grating
+cries. The phosphorescence died out of the sea. Another day had begun.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page228" id="page228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Raising his right hand, Spurling turned its open palm toward the north.</p>
+
+<p>"What did I tell you?" he exclaimed. "The wind is going down."</p>
+
+<p>Even Percy could see that it was not blowing so hard. The water, too,
+had grown much smoother, and the roar of the breaker was not so loud.</p>
+
+<p>"It'll be calm as a mill-pond in a few hours," remarked Jim. "By noon
+there ought to be some fishermen out here. They always start from
+Portland on the end of a norther, and run for this buoy to make their
+grounds from. All we've got to do now is to hold on and wait."</p>
+
+<p>He pulled in the dory and looked her carefully over.</p>
+
+<p>"Bow split open, as I thought," said he. "But apart from that she isn't
+damaged any. A little work'll make her as good as new. And in the stern
+is that box with the piston-rod in it. I'd have hated to lose that,
+after all this fuss. Things might have turned out a good deal worse, eh,
+Perce? But the next time I'll know enough to hang up at Seal Island."</p>
+
+<p>Jim's cheerfulness was contagious. Percy felt better. Though he was
+still tormented by hunger and thirst, the thought that relief might soon
+come gave him courage to endure them. Jim let the dory slip back to the
+end of her painter.</p>
+
+<p>"Might as well take an Indian breakfast."</p>
+
+<p>He buckled his belt a hole tighter.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a sail in sight yet! We could lie down in the dory and go to sleep,
+if she wasn't full of water. But, as things are, we'll have to make
+ourselves as<span class='pagenum'><a name="page229" id="page229">[Pg 229]</a></span> comfortable as we can right here. Let's hope it won't be
+for long!"</p>
+
+<p>The gale weakened to a brisk breeze. The sea fell rapidly to a long,
+lazy swell, on which the buoy rocked drowsily. The warm sun inclined the
+boys to sleep; but they fought it off and scanned the horizon with eager
+eyes. Seven o'clock. Eight. Nine. Ten. And still no sign of a sail.</p>
+
+<p>At half past ten a smoke-feather rose in the east.</p>
+
+<p>"Yarmouth boat on her way to Boston," said Jim. "She'll pass too far
+north to see us."</p>
+
+<p>He was right. The steamer's course kept her on the horizon, several
+miles off. Before long she vanished to the west. Half past eleven went
+by, and no fishermen appeared. Percy began to fear that Jim was
+mistaken, after all.</p>
+
+<p>"Here comes our packet," remarked Spurling, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>A tiny saw-tooth of canvas was rising out of the sea, miles northwest.
+As it grew larger it developed into a schooner under full sail, heading
+straight for the buoy.</p>
+
+<p>"She sees us," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>Percy felt like dancing for joy. Nearer and nearer came the schooner.
+The boys could see her crew staring curiously at them from along her
+rail. Fifty yards off she shot up into the wind and prepared to launch a
+boat. They could read the name on her starboard bow.</p>
+
+<p>"The <i>Grade King</i>," spelled Spurling. "I know her. She's a Harpswell
+vessel. Come out to seine herring. Bet she left Portland early this
+morning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page230" id="page230">[Pg 230]</a></span> Her captain's Silas Greenlaw; he used to sail with Uncle Tom.
+He'll use us O. K."</p>
+
+<p>A dory with two men in it came rowing toward the buoy.</p>
+
+<p>"How long've you fellows been hanging on here?" shouted a red-sweatered,
+gray-haired man in the stern.</p>
+
+<p>"Since six last night. We blew down from Tarpaulin Island in the
+norther. Don't you know me, Captain Greenlaw?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it's Jim Spurling, Tom Sprowl's nephew!" exclaimed the astonished
+captain. "So the gale blew you down from Tarpaulin, eh? Well, all I've
+got to say is that you were confounded lucky to hit the buoy and not the
+breaker. How long since you've had anything to eat or drink?"</p>
+
+<p>"Forty-six hours since we've had a swallow of water, and about twenty
+since we finished our last hard bread."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well! You must be hungry and thirsty! Come right aboard and we'll
+see what we can do for you."</p>
+
+<p>Gladly the boys cut the lashings that bound them to the bails. The
+whistle gave a screech of farewell as they tumbled stiffly into the
+boat. The solid deck of the <i>Gracie</i> felt good beneath their feet.</p>
+
+<p>"You can have all the water you want, boys; but you'd better go light on
+food at first," cautioned the captain.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to Percy as if he could never get enough to drink. Gradually,
+however, his thirst was quenched. He began to realize that he had not
+slept for two days and a half.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page231" id="page231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to carry you right back to the island," said Captain Greenlaw,
+"for your friends must be worrying. But there are lots of herring here,
+and I've got to get a load first. That may take two or three days. I'll
+land you at Tarpaulin on my way home. Better turn in and sleep."</p>
+
+<p>The boys were shortly wrapped in a heavy, dreamless slumber. It seemed
+to them as if they had just closed their eyes when they were shaken
+awake again.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's the cutter!" exclaimed the captain. "They got a wireless to hunt
+you up. Going to run in to Rockland, and can land you at Tarpaulin this
+evening. What do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>Tired though they were, Jim and Percy were only too glad of a chance to
+get home speedily. So they were transferred to the <i>Pollux</i>, and their
+leaking dory hoisted aboard. Swung in hammocks in the seamen's quarters,
+they were soon slumbering dreamlessly again.</p>
+
+<p>At eight that night the <i>Pollux</i> stopped off the island. The dory, made
+sound and tight by the ship's carpenter, was dropped overboard, and the
+boys rowed into Sprowl's Cove.</p>
+
+<p>Their appearance transformed the gloom that overhung Camp Spurling into
+the wildest joy. Budge, Throppy, and Filippo burst out of the cabin and
+raced headlong down the beach, waking the echoes with their shouts of
+welcome. Even before the dory grounded they tumbled aboard and flung
+their arms about the castaways. No brothers, reunited after deadly
+peril, could have given one another a warmer greeting.</p>
+
+<p>Jim freed his hands at last, stooped, and picked<span class='pagenum'><a name="page232" id="page232">[Pg 232]</a></span> up a package which he
+tossed out on the gravel. There was a suspicious moisture in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"There's the piston-rod!" said he in a rather choky voice. "I guess
+we'll get our set all right day after to-morrow."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page233" id="page233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XX</h2>
+
+<h3>SQUARING AN ACCOUNT</h3>
+
+<p>It was almost noon the next day before Jim and Percy rolled out of their
+bunks in Camp Spurling. One of Filippo's best dinners satisfied the last
+cravings of their appetites; but for a week they felt the strain of
+their forty-seven hours in the dory and on the buoy.</p>
+
+<p>"When did you reach the <i>Pollux</i>, Throppy?" asked Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't reach her at all. When you didn't show up that night I
+wirelessed Criehaven, and the operator there hit the cutter thirty miles
+to the westward the next forenoon. She began hunting for you right away,
+but it wasn't until twenty-four hours later that she found you on the
+<i>Gracie King</i>. We picked up a message from her some time after she took
+you off the schooner. Perhaps it didn't relieve our minds!"</p>
+
+<p>Jim drew a long breath as he glanced round the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>"Seems good to be here! Not a bad old camp, is it, Perce?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never saw a hotel I'd swap it for," replied Percy, promptly.</p>
+
+<p>Two mornings later Budge and Percy started in<span class='pagenum'><a name="page234" id="page234">[Pg 234]</a></span> the sloop for Vinalhaven
+after a load of herring. Jim did not accompany them, as he had decided
+to spend a forenoon hauling and inspecting the lobster-traps. The
+<i>Barracouta</i> ran in alongside Hardy's weir at nine o'clock and took
+aboard thirty bushels of small fish. She then went around to Carver's
+Harbor to purchase supplies and fill her tank with gasolene.</p>
+
+<p>It was Percy's first visit to the town since July 4th, the occasion of
+his disastrous encounter with Jabe. In actual time, his defeat lay only
+a few weeks back; but, measured by the change that had taken place in
+himself, the period might well have been years in length.</p>
+
+<p>Percy was treading hostile ground, and he knew it. Prudence might have
+counseled him to remain on board the <i>Barracouta</i> while Budge was making
+his purchases. Instead, he chose to stroll carelessly along the main
+street. At a corner he passed a group of small boys, who recognized him
+at once.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the fresh guy Jabe licked on the Fourth," he heard one mutter in a
+low tone. "Let's have some fun with him!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sh!" exclaimed another. "Jabe's over in Talcott's grocery. We'll get
+'em together again!"</p>
+
+<p>Never interrupting his leisurely saunter, Percy passed out of hearing.
+But his heart was beating a little quicker and he was conscious of a
+tightening of nerves and muscles. Weeks of secret, painstaking
+preparation were drawing to a climax.</p>
+
+<p>Half-turning his head, he saw a barefooted urchin dash across the street
+and into a store on the other side. Percy began to whistle cheerfully as
+he strode along, alive to all that was taking place behind him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page235" id="page235">[Pg 235]</a></span>
+Crossing the street, he was able to glance back without appearing to do
+so; and he was just in time to see a stout, freckle-faced, bullet-headed
+youth shoot out of the store and come hurrying after him, with an eager
+crowd of small fry trailing behind.</p>
+
+<p>Still feigning unconsciousness of the approaching peril, Percy
+proceeded, whistling blithely. Through a gap between two buildings he
+had caught sight of a barn standing alone, some distance ahead and well
+to one side of the main street; its door was open, revealing a broad
+stretch of empty floor. He quickened his pace, and presently turned down
+the short street leading to the structure. Jabe and his retinue were
+less than fifty yards behind, and gaining rapidly. As Percy turned the
+corner they broke into a run.</p>
+
+<p>At that same instant young Whittington also began to sprint at top
+speed; and he kept up this pace as long as he felt sure the building on
+the corner concealed him from his pursuers. The second the sound of
+their approaching feet became audible he dropped into his former gait.
+He was now almost opposite the open door of the barn.</p>
+
+<p>His ears told him that Jabe and his crew had also swung into the
+cross-street.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, there!" shouted a voice, roughly.</p>
+
+<p>Percy halted at once and wheeled about with affected surprise. A side
+glance into the barn told that its mows were well filled and that its
+floor was strewn with hayseed. Standing at ease, he awaited the approach
+of his foes.</p>
+
+<p>Jabe dashed up on the run. Five feet from Percy he came to a sudden stop
+and pushed his bulldog jaw out belligerently.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page236" id="page236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well," he growled, scowling darkly, "I've got you at last just where I
+want you. You can't cry baby now and run to that big, black-haired
+fellow. I'm going to lick you good!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy stared at his enemy in mild wonder.</p>
+
+<p>"What for?" he queried, innocently.</p>
+
+<p>But the outward calm of his tones and manner did not betray, even
+remotely, what was going on beneath. His heart was pumping like an
+engine, the blood coursed hotly through his arteries, and all over his
+body his wiry muscles had tensed and knotted. Nine weeks of vigorous
+life in the open, combined with systematic exercise, taken with the
+possibility in view of some time squaring his account with Jabe, had
+made of him an antagonist that even an older, heavier boy might well
+hesitate to tackle.</p>
+
+<p>Of all this Jabe was ignorant. He saw before him the same fellow he had
+mastered on the evening of the Fourth, a little browner and
+clearer-eyed, possibly a little straighter and stouter, but still the
+same foe his fist had sent to the ground. Jabe knew of no reason why he
+could not easily repeat his victory, and he burned to do so in the
+presence of his admirers. Percy's harmless query roused him to
+unreasoning anger.</p>
+
+<p>"What for?" he mimicked. "What for? Why, because I always intend to
+finish what I begin; and I had you only half-licked when they pulled me
+off. Now I'm going to polish you up to the queen's taste. Hustle into
+that barn!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy allowed himself to be herded through the open door; it might have
+been noticed, however, that he was careful not to turn his back to Jabe,
+and<span class='pagenum'><a name="page237" id="page237">[Pg 237]</a></span> that he stepped springily, with his feet well apart. Once inside,
+he slid his sole over the hayseed that covered the floor; it was no
+slipperier than the carpet of needles in that glade of the evergreens
+where he had practised daily with his improvised punching-bag since the
+second week in July. A quick glance about photographed on his brain the
+details of the arena in which he was so soon to play the gladiator.</p>
+
+<p>Jabe misunderstood the glance, and it increased his eagerness to begin
+the fray.</p>
+
+<p>"Afraid, are you?" he sneered. "Looking for some way out? Well, there
+isn't any besides this door. Line up across it, boys, and trip him if he
+tries to bolt before I get through with him. The rat's cornered at last,
+and now he's <i>got</i> to fight. Peel off that coat, Mister! Move quick. I
+don't want to stop here all day!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy deliberately drew off the garment, folded it into a neat bundle,
+and laid it, with his cap, on a barrel in a corner of the floor. He had
+on a closely fitting black jersey, trousers held up by a belt, and
+rubber-soled tennis sneakers. This costume was not accidental. It had
+been donned that morning with an eye to possibilities and in accordance
+with previous solitary rehearsals. Thus far, events could not have
+suited him better if he had planned them.</p>
+
+<p>His deliberate motions increased Jabe's anger.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll move faster than that when I get after you," he sneered, "or
+it'll be over so quick that there won't be any fun in it. Now put up
+your fists, for I'm going to lick you within an inch of your life! Guard
+that door, boys!"</p>
+
+<p>His grinning satellites lined up across the opening,<span class='pagenum'><a name="page238" id="page238">[Pg 238]</a></span> two deep, eyes and
+mouths wide open. In the front rank Percy recognized the imp who had
+burnt his coat, Jabe's brother, whose chastisement had started the
+trouble. The lad was dancing up and down with pleasurable anticipation.</p>
+
+<p>"Lick him, Jabe!" he shrilled. "Lick him, Jabe!"</p>
+
+<p>Swinging his clenched fists windmill fashion, Jabe made a savage rush
+across the echoing floor. Percy waited until his foe was almost upon
+him, then agilely leaped to one side. Carried on by the momentum of his
+charge, Jabe swept by and smashed against the wooden partition with a
+violence that set the hayseed sifting down from the loaded mow. Whirling
+about, he came back with increased rage.</p>
+
+<p>The boys yelled encouragement to their champion, their voices blending
+in a chorus, topped by his brother's high-keyed falsetto:</p>
+
+<p>"Lick him, Jabe! Lick him, Jabe!"</p>
+
+<p>Baffled in his first attempt, Jabe needed no applause to incite him to
+his best efforts. His fists rose and fell like flails as he spurned the
+flooring in a second onslaught upon his nimble foe. Again Percy,
+standing motionless until his assailant was almost within arm's-length,
+avoided his attack; and again Jabe brought up against the other wall
+with a force that made the boards rattle.</p>
+
+<p>Percy stood untouched a few feet away, smiling slightly, as his opponent
+gathered himself for another rush. The sight of his enemy, cool and
+unruffled, made Jabe furious.</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you fight, you coward?" he cried. "If only I can reach you
+just once, it'll be all over!"</p>
+
+<p>He hurled himself forward like a missile from a<span class='pagenum'><a name="page239" id="page239">[Pg 239]</a></span> catapult. His right
+fist grazed Percy's cheek. Roused from his policy of inaction, Percy
+shot in a stinging blow that found its mark under Jabe's right ear and
+sent him staggering. The fight was now fairly on.</p>
+
+<p>To and fro across the slippery hayseed the antagonists battled, raising
+a cloud of dust. The floor echoed hollowly under their quick tread.</p>
+
+<p>From the outset Percy knew that he had not a single sympathizer. But
+instead of discouraging him, that fact nerved him to do his utmost. He
+kept himself well in hand and did not waste an effort. If he could
+continue to side-step Jabe's quick rushes, and let the latter tire
+himself out, the fight was as good as won.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very different battle from that on July 4th. Jabe was as good
+as before, but no better; while Percy had improved at least a hundred
+per cent.; he had more skill and his nerves and muscles were far
+stronger. His rubber soles, too, gave him an advantage that he was not
+slow to improve. They assured him firm footing on the slippery floor and
+enabled him to turn quickly, as without trying to strike he contented
+himself with eluding Jabe's mad charges and sledge-hammer blows.</p>
+
+<p>The audience that blocked the door had grown silent. Things were not
+going according to schedule. After the first few rushes they had
+realized that their hero was getting the worst of the encounter.</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes had gone by. Jabe was breathing hard, while Percy was fresh
+as ever. His cool smile maddened his antagonist and made him less
+skilful. In one of his onsets he had slammed his doubled fist<span class='pagenum'><a name="page240" id="page240">[Pg 240]</a></span> against
+the wooden partition and split his knuckles; the pain and the running
+blood made him wild with rage.</p>
+
+<p>Confident at first of easy victory, he had finally realized that Percy
+was playing with him, that he had met his master in the boxing-game. His
+face had shown in turn anger, surprise, alarm, and at last positive
+fear. But one thought possessed his mind, to win at any cost, by fair
+means or foul. His rushes, which had slackened, grew more violent. He
+came at Percy head down; he tried to crowd him into a corner, to throw
+his arms around him, to overpower him by sheer, brute strength.</p>
+
+<p>Percy realized that in a rough-and-tumble he would be no match for Jabe.
+In legitimate boxing he had shown himself his foe's superior; and he was
+not particularly anxious to emphasize that fact by blacking Jabe's eyes
+or "bloodying" his nose. He would have been willing to let the matter
+stand where it was or allow Jabe to wear himself fruitlessly down to
+exhaustion. But such a course was neither feasible nor safe. Jabe would
+never voluntarily acknowledge that he was beaten. Besides, there was
+always the chance of something happening to put Percy at his mercy; and
+Percy knew only too well what that mercy would be.</p>
+
+<p>His only safety was to force a clear-cut decision.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a case of knock-out," he decided. "No use to bruise him up. Might
+as well have it over quick!"</p>
+
+<p>Savagely, though somewhat wearily, yet with undaunted determination,
+Jabe rushed him and struck out with his left. For the first time in the
+battle Percy launched in with all his strength. He cross-countered with
+his right on the point of Jabe's jaw.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page241" id="page241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was the wind-up. Jabe hit the hayseed in a heap. For a few seconds he
+lay motionless, then struggled to a sitting position.</p>
+
+<p>"Got enough?" asked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>Jabe took the count.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm licked," he acknowledged; and there were tears in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Can I do anything for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I'll be all right in a little while."</p>
+
+<p>Percy put on his coat and cap and started toward the door. As he passed
+Jabe the latter stretched out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You can fight," he conceded, grudging admiration in his tones.</p>
+
+<p>Percy grasped the bunch of stubby fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"So can you," he returned. "If you'd been to the masters I've had, I
+wouldn't care to mix it with you."</p>
+
+<p>The boys opened a way for him respectfully as he passed through the
+door. He was breathing a little quicker than usual, but he had not
+received a scratch. Going back to the wharf where they had landed, he
+found that Budge had been waiting for him almost fifteen minutes.</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you so late, Perce?" he hailed. "We want to ship these
+groceries and start for Tarpaulin before noon."</p>
+
+<p>Percy began passing the boxes and bags down aboard the dory.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry to have kept you waiting," he apologized. "But I've just been
+settling an account with an old friend."</p>
+
+<p>Then he told Lane of his encounter with Jabe.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," continued he, "I'll tell you why I've<span class='pagenum'><a name="page242" id="page242">[Pg 242]</a></span> been up into the woods
+every afternoon with that sweater of rockweed. I made it into a tight
+bundle and hung it on a springy limb to use for a punching-bag. It
+wasn't very ornamental, but it served the purpose. I've been training
+for this fight ever since the Fourth; had a feeling I'd get another
+chance at him. It's over now, and I hope everybody's satisfied. I am, at
+any rate."</p>
+
+<p>"So that's the reason of your daily pilgrimages," laughed Lane. "You
+certainly have been faithful enough to deserve to win. But what if you'd
+never run across Jabe again? Wouldn't you have felt that you'd thrown
+away your time?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit of it! That bout every afternoon has kept me in first-class
+shape. But now the great event has come off, I'm going to break training
+and give the rockweed a rest."</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Barracouta</i> was back at Tarpaulin before three o'clock. A remark
+dropped by Budge roused the curiosity of the others, and Percy was
+obliged once more to recount the story of his fight with Jabe.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Jim, when he had finished, "they say a patient waiter is no
+loser; but I guess it depends a good deal on how you spend your time
+while you're waiting&mdash;eh, Perce?"</p>
+
+<p>That night, after dark, when the boys were preparing to turn in, Filippo
+stepped out to the fish-house for some kindling. He came back on the
+run.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Fuoco!</i>" he panted.</p>
+
+<p>The others trooped out hastily. On the southern horizon flamed a ruddy
+light. Spurling gave a cry of alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys, it's a vessel on fire!"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page243" id="page243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XXI</h2>
+
+<h3>OLD FRIENDS</h3>
+
+<p>Touched by the live wire of human sympathy, Camp Spurling came wide
+awake in an instant. Out there, four miles to the south, men were
+perhaps battling for their lives. Jim issued his orders like bullets.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, boys! We'll take the <i>Barracouta</i>. Fetch a five-gallon can of
+gas from the fish-house, Perce! Budge and Throppy, launch that dory!"</p>
+
+<p>Dashing into the cabin, he quickly reappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Thought I'd better get one of those first-aid packets! Somebody may be
+burnt bad. Now, fellows! Lively!"</p>
+
+<p>The dory was barely afloat when Percy came staggering down the beach
+with the heavy can. Spurling swung it aboard, and all but Filippo jumped
+in.</p>
+
+<p>"Start your fire again!" shouted back Jim to the Italian. "Make some
+coffee! And be sure to have plenty of hot water! We may need it."</p>
+
+<p>Soon the sloop was under way and heading out of the cove.</p>
+
+<p>"Lucky you thought of that fresh can of gas, Jim," said Budge. "The
+tank's pretty near empty. We'd have been in a nice fix if the engine had
+stopped about a mile south of the island."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page244" id="page244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Take the tiller, Perce!" ordered Spurling.</p>
+
+<p>Vaulting up out of the standing-room, he grasped the port shroud and
+fastened his eyes on the fiercely blazing vessel. The flames had run up
+her masts and rigging, and she stood out a lurid silhouette against the
+black horizon. It was evident that she was doomed.</p>
+
+<p>"She's gone!" was Jim's comment as he dropped back into the
+standing-room. "Hope her crew got off all right. There isn't much we can
+do to help; but at any rate we ought to go out and tow in her boats."</p>
+
+<p>"What is she? Fisherman?" asked Throppy.</p>
+
+<p>"Most likely! And not a very big one. Shouldn't wonder if she'd had a
+gas explosion in her cabin; I've heard of a good many such cases. Hope
+nobody's been burnt bad!"</p>
+
+<p>There were a few minutes of silence as they gazed on the spectacle of
+destruction. The <i>Barracouta</i>, driven to her utmost, steadily lessened
+the distance. Brighter and larger grew the fire; every detail on the
+fated craft stood sharply out against the pitchy background.</p>
+
+<p>"Here come two boats!" exclaimed Lane.</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, they were clearly visible, more than two miles off, rising
+and falling on the swell, their oars flashing in the light from the
+conflagration. The crew had abandoned the hopeless fight and were saving
+themselves.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep her straight for 'em, Perce!" directed Jim.</p>
+
+<p>Whittington obeyed. Soon the <i>Barracouta</i> was within hailing distance of
+the dories. In the now diminishing light from the distant fire the boys
+could see that both were crowded with dark figures.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page245" id="page245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Must be at least twenty-five aboard the two," commented Stevens.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," returned Spurling. "These fishermen carry big crews. Ahoy there!
+What's the name of your vessel?"</p>
+
+<p>"The <i>Clementine Briggs</i>, of Gloucester," replied a man in the bow of
+the foremost dory. "Running in to Boothbay from Cashe's with a load of
+herring. The gas exploded and set her on fire. We tried to put it out,
+but it was no use. Just got clear with our lives and what we stood in."</p>
+
+<p>"Anybody hurt?"</p>
+
+<p>"Couple of men got their faces burnt, but not very bad. Lucky it was no
+worse. But the old schooner's gone. Pretty tough on Captain Sykes, here,
+for he owned most of her and didn't have much insurance. Fisherman's
+luck!"</p>
+
+<p>"Want a tow in to the island?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, toss us your painter, and tell the other boat to make fast to
+your stern."</p>
+
+<p>In a very short time the <i>Barracouta</i> was headed back for Tarpaulin,
+with the two heavily loaded dories trailing behind her. Delayed by her
+tow, she moved considerably slower than when coming out. A strange
+silence hung over the two dories. For fishermen, their crews were
+unusually quiet, sobered, evidently, by the catastrophe that had
+overtaken their schooner.</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't those men who were burnt like to come aboard the sloop?"
+inquired Spurling. "Perhaps I can give 'em first aid."</p>
+
+<p>"No," returned the spokesman. "One of 'em's<span class='pagenum'><a name="page246" id="page246">[Pg 246]</a></span> Captain Sykes, here in this
+dory with the handkerchief over his face. He isn't suffering much, but
+his cheeks got scorched, so I'm talking for him. The other man is in the
+next boat. The only thing for 'em to do is to grin and bear it; but just
+now they're not grinning much, 'specially the captain."</p>
+
+<p>Silence again. The sullen, red blaze on the distant vessel was dying
+down against the horizon. The flames had stripped her to a skeleton. Her
+hempen running rigging had been consumed; sails, gaffs, and booms lay
+smoldering on her decks; above the hull only her masts and bowsprit were
+outlined in fire against the blackness behind.</p>
+
+<p>Lacking anything better to do, Jim began counting the men in the dories.
+He made thirteen in each. Most of them sat like graven images, neither
+speaking nor stirring. They had not even turned their heads to look at
+the perishing schooner. He could not understand such indifference to the
+fate of the craft that had been their home.</p>
+
+<p>Sprowl's Cove was right ahead. Filippo opened the cabin door and stood
+framed within it, the light behind him casting a cheery glow down the
+beach. Louder and louder the bank behind the lagoon flung back the
+staccato of the exhaust. Presently the sloop nosed into the haven, the
+engine stopped, and Throppy went forward to gaff the mooring.</p>
+
+<p>The dories were cast off and rowed to the beach. By the time the boys
+got ashore all the men had landed. Jim, who had been watching them
+quietly, noted that most of them disembarked clumsily, more like
+landlubbers than sailors. They separated into two groups of very unequal
+size. One, numbering<span class='pagenum'><a name="page247" id="page247">[Pg 247]</a></span> six, including the men with handkerchiefs over
+their burnt faces, withdrew from the others and began to talk in low
+tones, with earnest, excited gestures. The remaining twenty clotted
+loosely together, awkward and ill at ease, still preserving their
+mysterious silence.</p>
+
+<p>Before Jim had time to offer his unexpected guests anything to eat or
+drink, Filippo bustled hospitably down the beach to the larger group.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you have <i>caff&egrave;</i>? It is hot and <i>eccellente</i>."</p>
+
+<p>They stared at him without replying. By the light from the open door Jim
+could see that they were dressed like landsmen and that their clothes
+did not fit well. Their faces were darkish, they had flat noses, and
+their close-cropped hair was straight and black.</p>
+
+<p>Before Filippo could repeat his question a man from the smaller group
+hurried up and pushed himself abruptly between the silent score and
+their questioner.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" said he, brusquely. "We don't want anything. We had supper just
+before the fire."</p>
+
+<p>His tone and attitude forbade further questioning. Filippo, abashed by
+the rebuff, returned rather shamefacedly to the cabin. The speaker
+remained with the group, as if to protect them from further approaches.
+To Jim his attitude seemed to be almost that of a guard. It deepened the
+mystery that already hung about the party.</p>
+
+<p>It was now past eight o'clock, and naturally some provision would soon
+have to be made for passing the night. Jim pondered. Twenty-six guests
+would prove a severe tax on their already cramped accom<span class='pagenum'><a name="page248" id="page248">[Pg 248]</a></span>modations.
+Still, the thing could be arranged; it must be. The smaller group of six
+could be taken into the camp. Six of the silent twenty could be stowed
+away aboard the sloop; while the remaining fourteen must make what shift
+they could in the fish-house. Jim proposed this plan to the sentinel.</p>
+
+<p>The man disapproved flatly.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" was his decided reply. "We've got to get away to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"To-night?" echoed Jim in amazement. "Why, man alive, you can't do that!
+It's fifteen miles to Matinicus, and you're loaded so deep it'd take you
+almost until morning to row there. And even if you made it all right,
+you wouldn't gain anything, for the boat for Rockland doesn't leave
+until the first of the afternoon. Besides, this wind's liable to blow up
+a storm. Of course you could row ten miles north to Head Harbor on Isle
+au Haut, walk up the island, and catch the morning boat for Stonington;
+but you'd have to pull most of the way against the ebb, and when this
+wind gets a little stronger it's going to be pretty choppy. <i>I</i> wouldn't
+want to risk it. Better stop with us to-night and let us make you as
+comfortable as we can; and to-morrow you can start for any place you
+please."</p>
+
+<p>The man shook his head stubbornly.</p>
+
+<p>"How far is it to the mainland?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Jim could hardly believe his ears.</p>
+
+<p>"The mainland!" he exclaimed. "A good twenty-five miles."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we've got to be there before morning."</p>
+
+<p>"You're crazy, man! Twenty-five miles across these waters in the night,
+with thirteen men in each<span class='pagenum'><a name="page249" id="page249">[Pg 249]</a></span> dory! You'd never make it in the world. You
+can't do it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, maybe we can't," retorted the other, impatiently, "but we're
+going to. There's more ways to kill a cat than by choking her to death
+with cream."</p>
+
+<p>He walked back to the smaller group, and soon they were in heated, but
+indistinct, argument. Jim noted that the men with handkerchiefs over
+their faces seemed now to have no difficulty in bearing their share of
+the conversation. Captain Sykes, in especial, was almost violent in his
+gestures.</p>
+
+<p>Presently they seemed to have reached an agreement. The spokesman walked
+back to Jim and came directly to the point.</p>
+
+<p>"What'll you take to set the crowd of us over on the mainland near Owl's
+Head before daylight?"</p>
+
+<p>Jim was equally direct.</p>
+
+<p>"No number of dollars you can name. I don't care to risk my boat and
+twenty-five or thirty lives knocking round the Penobscot Bay ledges on a
+night like this. But I'll be glad to take you all over to Matinicus
+to-morrow for nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"That won't do. We've got to reach the mainland to-night. I'll give you
+fifty dollars. Come, now!"</p>
+
+<p>Jim shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Seventy-five! No? A hundred, then! What d'you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"No use!" replied Jim. "I told you so at first."</p>
+
+<p>The stranger eyed him a moment, then stepped aside to parley again with
+the others. The colloquy was even more spirited than before. Captain
+Sykes swung his arms like a crazy man. He pointed to the sky, then to
+the sea, then to the voiceless score, hud<span class='pagenum'><a name="page250" id="page250">[Pg 250]</a></span>dled together, sheep-like, on
+the beach. Back came the speaker again, a nervous decision in his
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>"If you won't set us over yourself, what'll you sell that sloop for?
+Give you two hundred dollars!"</p>
+
+<p>Reading refusal in the lad's face, he raised the bid before Jim had time
+to open his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Three hundred! We've some passengers who must get to a certain place at
+a particular time, and they can't do it unless we can land 'em before
+daylight to-morrow. Say four hundred!"</p>
+
+<p>"That sloop isn't for sale."</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't you take five hundred for her?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; nor a thousand!"</p>
+
+<p>Jim's jaws came together. Back in his brain was forming a suspicion of
+these fishermen who raised their bid so glibly. Why were they so eager
+to reach the mainland that night, and why did the twenty have no voice
+in the discussion? He scrutinized them searchingly.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you staring at?" demanded the man, angrily.</p>
+
+<p>Jim did not reply. Percy passed by on his way to the cabin. He had been
+using his eyes to good advantage. He nudged Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"Those fellows are Chinamen," he whispered. "I've seen too many of 'em
+to be mistaken."</p>
+
+<p>His words crystallized Jim's suspicions into certainty. The whole thing
+was plain now. The crew of the <i>Clementine Briggs</i> (if, indeed, that was
+her name) were no fishermen, but smugglers of Chinese!</p>
+
+<p>He remembered a recent magazine article on the breaking of the
+immigration laws. Chinamen would cross the Pacific to Vancouver, paying
+the Dominion<span class='pagenum'><a name="page251" id="page251">[Pg 251]</a></span> head-tax, and thus gaining admission into Canada. A
+society, organized for the purpose, would take them in charge, teach
+them a few ordinary English phrases, transport them to New Brunswick,
+and slip them aboard some fast schooner. The captain of this vessel
+would receive three hundred dollars a head for landing his passengers
+safely here and there at lonely points on the New England coast, whence
+they could make their way undetected to their friends in the large
+cities. Thus were the exclusion laws of the United States set at naught.</p>
+
+<p>The destruction of the schooner had made it necessary for her passengers
+to be landed somewhere as secretly and as quickly as possible. Twenty
+men at three hundred dollars a head meant six thousand dollars. That
+explained the anxiety of the six white men to reach the mainland that
+night. They were criminals, breaking their country's laws for money.</p>
+
+<p>Jim decided that they should never make use of the <i>Barracouta</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The spokesman dropped his conciliatory mask and turned away defiantly.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, young fellow! You've had your say; now we'll have ours."</p>
+
+<p>"Throppy," said Jim in a low tone to Stevens, who was standing with Lane
+beside him, "these men are smugglers. Call the cutter!"</p>
+
+<p>He had time for nothing more. As Stevens slipped quietly back into the
+cabin there was an angry outburst among the group on the beach.</p>
+
+<p>"I've done my best, Cap," protested a voice. "He won't listen to reason.
+Now take that rag off your face and handle this thing yourself. It's up
+to you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page252" id="page252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There was a sudden rush of enraged men toward Lane and Spurling. As they
+came, two wrenched the handkerchiefs from their faces, revealing to the
+astounded boys the features of the would-be sheep-thieves of the first
+of the summer, Dolph and Captain Bart Brittler!</p>
+
+<p>The latter was white with rage. His voice rose almost to a screech.</p>
+
+<p>"No more fooling! We need that sloop and we're going to have her! Will
+you sell her?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we'll take her!"</p>
+
+<p>Brittler's hand shot into his pocket as if for a revolver.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop there, Cap!" warned Dolph's voice. "No gun-play! 'Tisn't
+necessary. We can handle 'em."</p>
+
+<p>He flung himself suddenly on Spurling; another man leaped upon Lane.
+Though taken completely by surprise and almost hurled backward, Jim
+quickly recovered his balance. A sledge-hammer blow from Dolph's fist
+grazed his jaw as he sprang aside. He returned it with interest, his
+right going true to its mark; down went Dolph, as if hit by a
+pile-driver. He lay for a moment, stunned.</p>
+
+<p>Strong and active though Jim was, he could not bear the brunt of the
+entire battle. Lane's assailant had proved too much for him; they were
+struggling together on the gravel, the older man on top. Percy and
+Filippo came running; but their aid counted for little. A stocky
+smuggler turned toward them. A single blow from his fist sent the
+Italian reeling. Percy lasted longer; but his skill was no match for the
+brute strength of his foe. His lighter blows only<span class='pagenum'><a name="page253" id="page253">[Pg 253]</a></span>
+stung his antagonist to fiercer efforts. Little by little the boy's
+strength failed and his breath came harder. He slipped on a smooth
+stone; with a sudden rush his foe pinioned his arms and held him
+struggling.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image16.jpg" width="320" height="367" alt="image16" title="Illustration" />
+<p class="caption" style="font-size: smaller; text-align: center">"WE NEED THAT SLOOP AND WE'RE GOING TO HAVE HER!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Dolph recovered, staggered to his feet, and entered the fray again. It
+was four to one against Jim; he fought manfully, but it was no use.
+Presently he lay flat on his back on the gravel, bruised and panting,
+one man kneeling on each arm, and a third on his chest.</p>
+
+<p>"Take him up to the camp, boys!" puffed Brittler.</p>
+
+<p>The doughty captain had not escaped unscathed. A swollen black eye and a
+bleeding nose bore eloquent testimony to the force and accuracy of Jim's
+blows. A guard on each side and another behind were soon propelling
+Spurling toward the open door. From within came the ceaseless click of a
+telegraph instrument. Throppy was still calling the cutter. Jim heard
+the quick patter of the continental code; Brittler heard it, too, and
+understood. He sprang forward with a shout of alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"They've got a wireless! Smash it!"</p>
+
+<p>A buffet on the side of the head knocked Stevens off his soap-box and
+sent him rolling on the floor. Five seconds later a crashing blow from a
+stick of firewood put the instrument out of commission. Brittler poised
+his club threateningly over the prostrate Stevens.</p>
+
+<p>"Wish I knew if you've been able to get a message through to anybody! If
+I thought you had&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He did not finish, but half-raised the stick, then dropped it again and
+turned away. One by one the remaining members of Spurling &amp; Company
+were<span class='pagenum'><a name="page254" id="page254">[Pg 254]</a></span> bundled unceremoniously into the cabin. Then the door was slammed
+shut and two men with automatics were stationed on guard outside.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't shoot unless you have to," instructed Brittler's voice, purposely
+raised. "And remember a bullet in the leg'll stop a man just as quick as
+one through the body."</p>
+
+<p>And then in a tone lower, but perfectly audible to those inside:</p>
+
+<p>"But don't stand any fooling! Stop 'em anyway! You know as well as I do
+how much we've got at stake."</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page255" id="page255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XXII</h2>
+
+<h3>PERCY SCORES</h3>
+
+<p>Defeated and imprisoned in their own camp, the boys faced one another
+dazedly. Though none of the five had suffered serious injury in the
+scuffle, all were more or less bruised. Lane had a slight cut where the
+back of his head had come in contact with a sharp stone on the beach;
+and a swelling on Jim's right cheek told where the hard fist of one of
+his assailants had landed.</p>
+
+<p>Outside, the two guards conversed in low tones; but for a few minutes no
+one spoke or moved in the cabin. The boys sat on the boxes or had thrown
+themselves into their bunks. Elbow on table, chin resting in palm, Jim
+was buried in thought. In a short time, he knew, Brittler and his gang
+would sail away in the <i>Barracouta</i>. They would land their human cargo
+and probably scuttle the sloop. Somehow they must be thwarted; but how?</p>
+
+<p>The boys had no weapons to match those of their armed guard. Without
+ammunition, the shot-gun was but a bar of iron. How could they cope with
+the bullets in the automatics? Undoubtedly every smuggler carried a
+revolver, and would use it in a pinch; possibly some might not wait
+until the pinch came. It was a knotty problem. The drops<span class='pagenum'><a name="page256" id="page256">[Pg 256]</a></span> oozed out on
+Jim's forehead as he wrestled for its solution.</p>
+
+<p>A low whistle fell on his ear. He glanced toward Percy's bunk and saw
+the latter's hand raised in warning; he was taking off his shoes,
+quickly and noiselessly. Why? Jim and the others watched.</p>
+
+<p>Soon Percy stood in his stocking feet. He pulled out his knife and
+opened the large blade. Stooping low, he stole toward the farther end of
+the cabin. The window there was open and covered with mosquito netting.</p>
+
+<p>Steps grated on the pebbles outside. One of the guards was making a
+circuit of the camp. Percy flattened himself on the floor directly
+beneath the window. The others, hardly daring to breathe, looked away.
+The man paused for a moment; Jim knew that he was peering in. Apparently
+satisfied that all was well, he resumed his patrol.</p>
+
+<p>Without delay Percy rose. He drew his knife along the netting near the
+sill, then cut it from top to bottom on each side, close to the frame.
+So skilfully did the keen blade do its work that the screen hung
+apparently undisturbed.</p>
+
+<p>The guards began talking again. Placing one of the boxes silently under
+the window, and stepping upon it, Percy slipped through the opening. His
+light build enabled him to drop to the ground without making any noise.
+The netting fell back and hung as before.</p>
+
+<p>Outside, it was thick fog; a slight drizzle was beginning. It was
+impossible to see further than a few feet. But the last two months had
+familiarized Percy with every square yard of the beach, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="page257" id="page257">[Pg 257]</a></span> could
+have found his way along it blindfold. Cat-footed, he stole down toward
+the water.</p>
+
+<p>Steps approached, voices; he halted, ready for a hasty retreat. But the
+feet receded toward the cabin, and he had no difficulty in recognizing
+the tones of Dolph and Brittler. The latter was in a bad humor.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," he growled, "we've got a long way to go, and none too much time.
+Every minute we waste here means just so much off the other end. Granted
+we reach the mainland all right, we'll have to hustle to slip those
+Chinks under cover before daylight. You'd better round 'em up in that
+fish-house, so none of 'em'll stray away and keep us from starting the
+second the sloop's ready. We've got to make sure there's plenty of gas
+aboard, as well as a compass and chart. I'll see if I can scare up a
+couple of lanterns."</p>
+
+<p>The two separated, Dolph evidently going to look after the Chinese,
+while Brittler kept on toward the cabin. Percy stood stock-still, his
+heart thumping. Would the captain discover his absence?</p>
+
+<p>"How's everything here, boys?" hailed Brittler.</p>
+
+<p>"All quiet," replied one of the sentries.</p>
+
+<p>"Come inside with me, Herb, so these fellows won't try any funny
+business."</p>
+
+<p>The door opened. Percy felt a thrill of fear. How could they fail to
+notice there were only four prisoners in the camp?</p>
+
+<p>But their captors evidently had not the least suspicion that he had
+escaped. Probably they thought he was lying in one of the bunks. He
+could hear the voices of Brittler and Jim, the one questioning, angry,
+and menacing, the other tantalizingly<span class='pagenum'><a name="page258" id="page258">[Pg 258]</a></span> deliberate as he grudgingly gave
+the information demanded. Percy delayed no longer. He had his own work
+to do, and it demanded all his energy.</p>
+
+<p>Down he stole to the water's edge, then followed it west until he
+reached a sloping rock. The <i>Barracouta</i>, he knew, was moored not fifty
+feet out in the black fog.</p>
+
+<p>Without hesitating a second Percy waded in, and soon was swimming
+quietly toward the sloop. He had not dared to take one of the boats, for
+fear the grating of her keel on the beach or the sound of her oars might
+betray him. He cleft the water noiselessly, and it was not long before
+he grasped the <i>Barracouta's</i> bobstay and hoisted himself aboard.</p>
+
+<p>Dropping down the companionway, he groped forward through the cabin to
+the little door leading into the bow, and crept in on hands and knees.
+His fingers found what he wanted, an opening between two planks, where a
+leak had been freshly calked with oakum. He dug this out with his
+knife-point, and the water began spurting in.</p>
+
+<p>Backing out and closing the door, he found a wrench in the tool-box and
+began fumbling about the engine. Soon the spark-plugs were unscrewed and
+in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"And there's a good job done!" he thought, triumphantly. "Guess that
+gang of blacklegs won't get very far in the <i>Barracouta</i> to-night!"</p>
+
+<p>Voices on the shore. Dolph and Brittler were coming with a lantern; a
+blur of light brightened through the fog.</p>
+
+<p>"The compass and chart are aboard," came the captain's voice, "and this
+can of gas'll be enough<span class='pagenum'><a name="page259" id="page259">[Pg 259]</a></span> to make us sure of striking the mainland.
+Launch that dory!"</p>
+
+<p>The dip of oars and an increasing brightness told that the boat was
+approaching. It would not do for Percy to be detected. Lowering himself
+from the port bow into the water, he clung to the bobstay.</p>
+
+<p>"They won't see me here!"</p>
+
+<p>Bump! The dory struck the sloop and grated along her side. Dolph and
+Brittler clambered aboard and descended into the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's the chart!" exclaimed the captain. "And the compass, too! He
+told the truth about them, at any rate."</p>
+
+<p>"Lucky for him!" rejoined Dolph. "I don't like that big fellow worth a
+cent."</p>
+
+<p>"Good reason!" was the captain's rather sarcastic comment.</p>
+
+<p>"You haven't any license to joke me about that knockdown, Bart Brittler!
+I noticed you weren't in any hurry to mix it with him."</p>
+
+<p>There was a moment of silence.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" cried the captain, suddenly. "Sounds like water running
+in! Hope the old scow isn't leaking. Let's have that lantern!"</p>
+
+<p>Through the thin planking Percy could hear him open the little door and
+crawl up into the bow. Then his faint, muffled voice reached the eagerly
+listening boy.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a bad leak here! Come in a minute!"</p>
+
+<p>Into Percy's brain flashed a sudden idea that left him trembling with
+excitement. Could he do it? If he tried, he must not fail. An instant
+resolution set him dragging himself toward the stern.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page260" id="page260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Clutching the rim of the wash-board, he flung up one leg, caught his
+toe, and raised himself, dripping. A moment later he was in the
+standing-room.</p>
+
+<p>He looked down into the cabin. The light of the lantern, shining round a
+body that almost filled the little door to the bow, showed a pair of
+legs backing out.</p>
+
+<p>The die was cast. It was too late now for Percy to withdraw. His only
+safety lay in action.</p>
+
+<p>Like lightning he slammed and hooked the double doors of the
+companionway, pulled the slide over, and snapped the padlock. Dolph and
+Brittler were prisoners on board the <i>Barracouta!</i></p>
+
+<p>There was a moment of surprised silence. Then bedlam broke out below, a
+confused, smothered shouting, a violent thumping on the closed doors and
+slide. But Percy gave it no heed. Thus far his plan had succeeded, even
+beyond his expectations. But his work was only begun. Before it should
+be finished, four men on shore must be overcome.</p>
+
+<p>Aquiver with excitement, he sprang into the dory and quickly rowed to
+the beach, some distance from the camp. Then he leaped out with the oars
+and carried them well up on the shingle.</p>
+
+<p>The other dory of the smugglers was, he remembered, almost exactly in
+front of the cabin. Skirting the water, he soon came plump upon the
+boat. He felt inside, found the oars, and gave one after the other a
+shove out into the cove. Barely had he done this when hurrying steps
+approached. One of the guards from the camp was coming to investigate
+the tumult on the <i>Barracouta</i>.</p>
+
+<p>He passed so close to the dory beside which Percy<span class='pagenum'><a name="page261" id="page261">[Pg 261]</a></span> was crouching that
+the boy could almost have touched him. Luckily he had no lantern. Percy
+hardly dared to breathe until the man was twenty feet past.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the trouble out there?" he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>If the two on the sloop heard him at all, they made no intelligible
+reply. The tumult and thumping kept on. Not waiting to see whether or
+not the sentinel would succeed in establishing communication with his
+marooned companions, Percy ran silently up the beach. Making a broad
+circuit, he approached the cabin from behind.</p>
+
+<p>Through the open window he could see his mates, listening with parted
+lips to the hubbub outside. He attracted Jim's attention by tossing in a
+pebble. Spurling sauntered leisurely toward the rear of the cabin. His
+precautions were needless; the remaining sentry had concentrated his
+whole attention on the uproar in the cove.</p>
+
+<p>"Jim," whispered Percy, hurriedly, "I'm going to jump that guard. You
+and Budge stand close to the door. The second you hear any fracas rush
+out and take hold with me. Stop him from shouting, if you can."</p>
+
+<p>Jim nodded and stepped back from the window. Percy crept stealthily
+round the camp toward the fish-house. He rightly inferred that the
+smuggler would be gazing down the beach toward the invisible sloop.</p>
+
+<p>A well-oiled clock could not have worked more smoothly. The sentry's
+thoughts were focused on what was taking place out there in the fog, and
+he was all unconscious of the peril that menaced him in the rear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page262" id="page262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Suddenly out of the blackness behind him a lithe figure shot like a
+wildcat. One arm encircled the neck of the astounded guard, the hand
+pressing tightly over his mouth. The other hand caught his right wrist
+and twisted it backward, causing him to drop his revolver. The force of
+the attack flung him flat on his face.</p>
+
+<p>Before he could even struggle the door was wrenched open and two figures
+darted out and joined in the m&ecirc;l&eacute;e. It was soon over. Three to one are
+heavy odds. The sentry, gagged and securely bound, was hustled inside
+the cabin. His hat, overcoat, and automatic were appropriated for Jim
+Spurling, who took his place. So skilfully had the coup been conducted
+under cover of the disturbance in the cove that none of the other
+smugglers had taken the slightest alarm.</p>
+
+<p>Spurling assumed his post none too soon. Hardly had the door been
+closed, with Lane, Stevens, and Percy on the alert just inside, when the
+other guard came hurrying anxiously back. He had been unable to fathom
+the meaning of the tumult on the <i>Barracouta</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like this at all, Herb," growled he as he drew near Jim. "Dolph
+and the skipper have gotten into some kind of a scrape, but what the
+trouble is I can't figure. I'd have gone out to them in the other dory,
+but I couldn't find any oars. We'd better call Shane and Parsons away
+from guarding those Chinks and decide what it's best to do. We don't
+know the lay of the land here, and any mistake's liable to be
+expensive."</p>
+
+<p>By the time he had finished his remarks he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="page263" id="page263">[Pg 263]</a></span> close to Spurling. The
+latter's silence apparently roused his suspicions. He stopped short.</p>
+
+<p>"What&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He got no further. Jim's left hand was over his mouth and Jim's right
+grasped his right wrist. Out burst reinforcements from the camp. It was
+a repetition of the case of the first sentinel, only more so. Presently
+Number Two lay on the cabin floor beside his comrade, unable to speak or
+move. Jim was a good hand at tying knots.</p>
+
+<p>The five boys gathered in a corner and took account of stock. Two of the
+six white men prisoners; two others marooned on the sloop and <i>hors du
+combat</i>, at least temporarily; two still at large and in a condition to
+do mischief, but at present entirely ignorant of the plight of their
+comrades. Two automatics captured, and the dories of the foe useless
+from lack of oars. Best of all, the boys themselves free and practically
+masters of the situation. Matters showed a decided improvement over what
+they had been a half-hour before.</p>
+
+<p>But the victory was as yet incomplete and Jim was too good a general to
+lose the battle from over-confidence. At any minute Dolph and Brittler
+might burst their way out through the double doors of the <i>Barracouta</i>
+and establish communication with the two men guarding the Chinese. So
+once more the trap was set and baited. Roger put on the hat and coat of
+the second sentry and joined Jim on guard.</p>
+
+<p>Crash! Crash! Crash! A succession of heavy, splintering blows, echoing
+over the cove, announced that the pair imprisoned on the sloop had at
+last<span class='pagenum'><a name="page264" id="page264">[Pg 264]</a></span> discovered some means of battering their way to freedom.</p>
+
+<p><i>Crash-sh!</i></p>
+
+<p>Speech, low but intense, came floating over the water. The smugglers
+were out and evidently looking for their dory. Baffled in their search,
+they began shouting.</p>
+
+<p>"Hilloo-oo! On shore! Shane! Parsons! Herb! Terry! Are you all dead?
+Come out and take us off! Somebody's scuttled the sloop and locked us
+down in the cabin! Just wait till we get ashore! We'll fix those boys!
+Ahoy there! Our boat's gone! Come and get us!"</p>
+
+<p>Jim pressed Roger's arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Ready! Here comes one of 'em!"</p>
+
+<p>Somebody was running toward them from the fish-house. A black figure
+suddenly loomed up, close at hand.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the trouble out there, Herb? Dolph and the cap are yelling like
+stuck pigs! Hear 'em! Guess I'd better go out to 'em in the other dory,
+don't you think? Shane can handle the Chinos&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>His voice shut off in a terrified gurgle. A strong hand forcibly sealed
+his lips and two pairs of muscular arms held him powerless, while Percy,
+darting from the cabin with a coil of rope, relieved him of his
+automatic and tied him firmly under Jim's whispered directions. Soon he,
+too, lay beside his comrades.</p>
+
+<p>"Shut the door a minute, Filippo!" ordered Jim. "Now," he continued,
+briskly, "I guess we've got 'em coppered. We'll do up that man in the
+fish-house in short order. By the way, Throppy, did<span class='pagenum'><a name="page265" id="page265">[Pg 265]</a></span> you raise the
+cutter before the captain smashed your instrument?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't know," answered Stevens. "I was so busy calling for help that I
+didn't wait for any reply."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll know before midnight," said Jim. "Take Parsons's automatic,
+Perce, and come along with Budge and myself. Throppy, you stay here with
+Filippo and help guard these fellows."</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at the sullen three lying bound on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't look as if they could make much trouble. Still, it's better for
+somebody to keep an eye on 'em."</p>
+
+<p>Jim, Budge, and Percy stepped out and closed the door. The shouting from
+the <i>Barracouta</i> kept on with undiminished vigor. Appeals and threats
+jostled one another in the verbal torrent.</p>
+
+<p>"Let 'em yell themselves hoarse," whispered Jim. "It won't do 'em any
+good."</p>
+
+<p>The fish-house was near. A lighted lantern hung just inside the open
+door. Near it stood the fourth smuggler, peering anxiously out; behind
+him huddled the Chinamen. He gave an exclamation of relief as he saw
+Jim's figure approaching through the fog.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped short, frozen with surprise, at the sight of the three boys.
+Swiftly his hand darted toward his left coat pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"None of that, Shane!" commanded Jim, sharply. "Put 'em up!"</p>
+
+<p>The three automatics in the boys' hands showed<span class='pagenum'><a name="page266" id="page266">[Pg 266]</a></span> the guard that
+resistance was useless. He obeyed sulkily.</p>
+
+<p>"Feel in his pocket, Perce, and take his revolver! No, the other side!
+He's left-handed."</p>
+
+<p>Percy secured the weapon. Escorting Shane to the camp, they soon had him
+safely trussed. Brittler was bellowing like a mad bull.</p>
+
+<p>"Now for Dolph and the skipper! Guess the three of us are good for 'em!"</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the four smugglers in the custody of Throppy and Filippo, the
+other boys proceeded down to the water. The shouting suddenly ceased. A
+rope splashed.</p>
+
+<p>"They've cast off the mooring!" exclaimed Jim.</p>
+
+<p>Another unmistakable sound.</p>
+
+<p>"Now they're rocking the wheel to start her!"</p>
+
+<p>Percy felt for the spark-plugs in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"They'll rock it some time!"</p>
+
+<p>They did. At last they stopped. There was a muttered consultation,
+inaudible to the listening ears on shore.</p>
+
+<p>"Might as well wind the thing up now!" observed Jim in an undertone.</p>
+
+<p>"On board the sloop!" he hailed. "It's all off, Captain! We've got your
+four men tied up, and we've got their revolvers. You and Dolph might as
+well give it up. Throw your guns in on the beach, and we'll come out and
+get you, one at a time!"</p>
+
+<p>A tremendous surprise was voiced by the absolute silence that followed.
+It was broken by Brittler's sneering voice:</p>
+
+<p>"So we might as well give up, had we, eh? Guess<span class='pagenum'><a name="page267" id="page267">[Pg 267]</a></span> you don't know Bart
+Brittler, sonny! Let 'em have it, Dolph!"</p>
+
+<p><i>Spang&mdash;spang&mdash;spang&mdash;spang!</i></p>
+
+<p>A fusillade of revolver-shots woke the echoes. The bullets spattered in
+the water and thudded on the beach. Fortunately no one was hit.</p>
+
+<p>"Scatter, fellows!" shouted Jim. And in a lower voice he added, "Don't
+fire back!"</p>
+
+<p>Silence again. The two on the sloop were evidently reloading. Then came
+a regular splashing. The men on the <i>Barracouta</i> were paddling her
+ashore. Armed and desperate, now fully aware that the only things
+between themselves and a term in a Federal prison were the bullets in
+their automatics, they would go to almost any length to escape, even to
+the taking of life itself. Plainly there was trouble ahead.</p>
+
+<p>The boys came together again at the foot of the sea-wall. Should they
+fight or run? It was one or the other. Whatever else they might be,
+Dolph and Brittler clearly were not cowards. If there was a fight, it
+was certain somebody would be shot, very likely killed. Was the risk
+worth taking? Would it not be better to hurry back to the cabin, warn
+Filippo and Throppy, and escape up the bank into the woods? The
+smugglers, with but two automatics against four, would hardly dare to
+follow them.</p>
+
+<p>"Way enough, Dolph!" growled Brittler's voice.</p>
+
+<p>The sloop had grounded. Splash! Splash! Her two passengers had leaped
+out into the water and were making their way to the beach.</p>
+
+<p>Jim came to an instant decision. He opened his<span class='pagenum'><a name="page268" id="page268">[Pg 268]</a></span> lips, but the words he
+had planned to speak were never uttered. The strong, rhythmical dip of
+oars suddenly beat through the fog.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the trouble here?" demanded a stern voice.</p>
+
+<p>A great surge of thankfulness almost took away Jim's power of speech.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the cutter!" he ejaculated, chokingly. "Throppy got her, after
+all!"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page269" id="page269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>WHITTINGTON GRIT</h3>
+
+<p>So far as the smugglers were concerned the game was up. It was one thing
+to attempt to overpower a group of boys and appropriate their sloop, but
+it was quite another to offer armed resistance to the officers of the
+United States revenue service.</p>
+
+<p>Dolph and Brittler realized that; they realized, too, that they had
+absolutely no chance of escaping from the island, so they stood sullenly
+by while Jim told his story to the lieutenant commanding the boat. At
+the close of his recital the officer turned to them.</p>
+
+<p>"You hear the statements of this young man. What have you to say for
+yourselves?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing now," replied Brittler.</p>
+
+<p>"You may hand over your guns."</p>
+
+<p>The two surrendered their automatics and were placed under arrest.
+Following Jim's guidance, the lieutenant inspected the captured
+smugglers in Camp Spurling and the Chinese in the fish-house. Leaving a
+guard on shore and taking Jim with him, he went off to make his report
+to the captain.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a case for the United States commissioner at Portland," decided
+the latter. "We'll have to take the whole party there. Guess you boys
+had better<span class='pagenum'><a name="page270" id="page270">[Pg 270]</a></span> come along as witnesses. The <i>Pollux</i> was bound east when we
+picked up your wireless; but this matter is so important that I'm going
+to postpone that trip for a couple of days. I can bring you and the rest
+of your party back here early day after to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>It meant to the boys a loss of only two days at the outside. That was a
+little thing in comparison with what might have happened if the cutter
+had not come.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll start without waste of time," resumed the captain. "Lieutenant
+Stevenson, you may bring the prisoners aboard."</p>
+
+<p>Jim went ashore with the officer to notify his companions and prepare
+for this unforeseen journey. Eleven o'clock found the <i>Pollux</i> steaming
+west with her thirty-one additional passengers. The passage was
+uneventful and they were alongside the wharf in Portland early the next
+forenoon.</p>
+
+<p>Promptly at two came the hearing before the commissioner. It did not
+take long. Brittler and his accomplices were held for trial at the next
+term of court, and the Chinese were taken in charge by the immigration
+inspector. Before six that night the boys were passing out by Portland
+Head in the <i>Pollux</i>, bound east. The next morning they landed once more
+in Sprowl's Cove, and a few hours later they had fallen back into their
+customary routine, as if smugglers were a thing unknown. The leak in the
+<i>Barracouta's</i> bow was calked, making her as tight as before.</p>
+
+<p>The following day dawned fiery red and it was evident that a fall storm
+was brewing. Jim and<span class='pagenum'><a name="page271" id="page271">[Pg 271]</a></span> Percy had to battle with a high sea when they set
+and pulled their trawl; and they were glad enough to get back to
+Tarpaulin with their catch. By noon a heavy surf was bombarding the
+southern shore.</p>
+
+<p>Five o'clock found the gale in full blast. A terrific wind whipped the
+rain in level sheets over cove and beach and against the low cabin squat
+on the sea-wall. Great, white-maned surges came rolling in from the
+ocean to boom thunderously on the ledges round Brimstone. The flying
+scud made it impossible to see far to windward. It was the worst storm
+the boys had experienced since they came to the island.</p>
+
+<p>At half past five, after everything had been made snug for the night,
+they assembled for supper. On the table smoked a heaping platter of
+fresh tongues and cheeks, rolled in meal and fried brown with slices of
+salt pork. Another spiderful of the same viands sputtered on the stove.
+Hot biscuits and canned peaches crowned the repast. Filippo had done
+himself proud.</p>
+
+<p>A long-drawn blast howled about the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>"Gee!" exclaimed Percy, "but wasn't that a screamer! This is one of the
+nights you read about. 'The midnight tempest was shrieking furiously
+round the battlements of the old baronial castle!'"</p>
+
+<p>"Cut it out, Perce, cut it out!" remonstrated Lane. "You make me feel
+ashamed of myself. It's really unkind in you to air your knowledge of
+the English classics before such dubs as the rest of us."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, at any rate, I'm glad we're under cover. Wonder if the men who
+used to go to sea in this cabin enjoyed it anywhere near as much as we
+have!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="page272" id="page272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Not half bad, is it?" said Jim. "Remember how delighted you were when
+you got your first sight of it, three months ago?"</p>
+
+<p>Percy grinned.</p>
+
+<p>"I've changed some since then," he admitted. "Forget that, Jim! It's
+ancient history now."</p>
+
+<p>As he drew up his soap-box his eye dwelt appreciatively on the
+delicacies in the platter.</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you other fellows going to eat anything?" he inquired, with mock
+concern. "I don't see any more than enough for myself on that platter.
+Don't be so narrow about the food, Filippo!"</p>
+
+<p>The Italian pointed to a pan rounded up with uncooked titbits.</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty more!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" said Percy. "I was afraid somebody else might have to go
+hungry."</p>
+
+<p>All devoted themselves to the contents of their plates. They kept
+Filippo busy frying until their appetites were satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>Supper was over at last, and the dishes washed and put away. Outside,
+the storm raged worse than ever. Stevens sat down to his instrument,
+repaired after its damage by Brittler, and put the receivers over his
+ears.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, Throppy!" exhorted Lane. "Don't go calling to-night! Get out
+of the ether and give some other wireless sharps a look-in! Pull off
+that harness and take down your violin. Let's make an evening of it! We
+sha'n't have many more."</p>
+
+<p>Stevens lifted his hands to remove the headpiece. Suddenly a change came
+over his face and his arms dropped slowly. He gave his mates a warning
+look.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page273" id="page273">[Pg 273]</a></span> There fell a silence in the cabin. Anxiously the others watched
+the operator's tense features. Minutes passed.</p>
+
+<p>On a sudden he sprang up and tore off the receivers.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a steamer in trouble outside. Name sounded like <i>Barona</i>. Her
+engine's disabled and she's drifting. Can't be very far off!"</p>
+
+<p>The boys felt sober.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a hard night for a craft without steerage-way," said Jim. "What's
+that? Thunder?"</p>
+
+<p>A long, low rumble made itself heard above the storm. It came again, and
+yet again. The gloom was lighted for a second by a sudden blaze.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that!" exclaimed Jim once more.</p>
+
+<p>Between the thunder-peals his ears had caught a single whip-like crack.
+A stunning crash followed a lurid glare, lighting up sky and sea. Again
+came the sharp detonation, but little louder than a fire-cracker. This
+time all heard it.</p>
+
+<p>"A signal-gun!"</p>
+
+<p>Lane's voice was full of excitement. He sprang to the door and the
+others followed. The gale was blowing squarely against the end of the
+cabin. So great was its force that Roger had all he could do to push the
+door open. Presently the five stood outside, exposed to the full fury of
+the blast. For a few seconds all was black.</p>
+
+<p>"Look! A rocket!"</p>
+
+<p>Up from the pitchy sea southwest of Brimstone shot a line of fire,
+curving into an arc and bursting aloft in a shower of many-colored
+balls. At its base were dimly visible two slender masts and a white<span class='pagenum'><a name="page274" id="page274">[Pg 274]</a></span>
+hull. Almost instantly they vanished; but the boys had seen enough.</p>
+
+<p>"A steam-yacht!" cried Jim. "Not more than a half-mile off Brimstone and
+drifting straight on the ledges. Looks as if she was a goner!"</p>
+
+<p>"Can't we help her somehow?" asked Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid not. We couldn't drive the sloop against this gale and sea;
+besides, those rollers would swamp a life-boat. All we can do is to get
+out on the point and try to save anybody who comes ashore. Put on your
+oil-clothes, fellows! Light both the lanterns, Percy! Budge, you and
+Throppy each take one of those spare coils of rope! I'll carry another
+and the Coston lights. Now I can see why Uncle Tom always insisted on
+having a couple of 'em in the cabin. Filippo, you'd better stay here,
+keep up a good fire, and make plenty of coffee. There goes another
+rocket! The gun, too! I don't blame 'em. Men couldn't be in a worse
+fix!"</p>
+
+<p>Leaning sidewise against the gale, the little lantern-guided procession
+trudged along the sea-wall and stumblingly ascended the slippery path to
+the beacon on Brimstone. Sheltering the oil-soaked kindlings with his
+body, Jim scratched a match; and in a twinkling long tongues of smoky
+flame were streaming wildly to leeward.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! They see us!"</p>
+
+<p>Three rockets in quick succession rose from the yacht, now barely a
+quarter-mile away. The thunder and lightning were almost continuous.
+Every flash told that the imperiled craft was steadily drifting nearer
+the dangerous promontory.</p>
+
+<p>"She'll strike the Grumblers!" muttered Jim.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page275" id="page275">[Pg 275]</a></span> "And that means she's done
+for! If only she was a thousand feet farther east she'd float by into
+the cove. Hard luck!"</p>
+
+<p>The Grumblers were a collection of jagged rocks, exposed at low tide.
+Under the incessant flashes their black heads appeared and disappeared
+in a welter of frothy white. It was an ominous spectacle for the men on
+the yacht.</p>
+
+<p>Taking one of the Coston lights, Jim clambered down on the ledges. Soon
+the warning red glare of the torch, held high above his head, was
+illumining the rocks and breakers. He held the light aloft until it went
+out, then rejoined the others.</p>
+
+<p>"They're getting a boat over!" cried Stevens.</p>
+
+<p>Half a dozen men, working with frantic haste, were swinging a tender out
+to leeward.</p>
+
+<p>"No use!" said Jim, despondently. "She won't live a minute in this sea."</p>
+
+<p>Ten seconds confirmed his prediction. The yacht rolled. As the boat
+struck the water a giant sea filled her. Then came darkness. The next
+flash showed the boat drifting bottom up beside the larger craft.
+Another tender was launched; it survived one sea, but the next
+overturned it. Still a third boat met with the same fate.</p>
+
+<p>Every surge was heaving the yacht nearer the breakers with dismaying
+speed. A group of figures gathered amidships. Silently, with pale faces,
+the boys watched the progress of the doomed craft. She was going to her
+death. How could any of those on board escape?</p>
+
+<p>Jim threw off his despondency.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, fellows," he cried, "the minute she<span class='pagenum'><a name="page276" id="page276">[Pg 276]</a></span> strikes she'll begin to pound
+to pieces! Their only chance'll be to run a line ashore. We must get out
+as far as we can to catch it."</p>
+
+<p>Every billow buried the base of the point in snowy foam and sent the
+spray flying far up its rugged front. Using the utmost caution, the boys
+descended to the limit of safety. At the next flash they peered eagerly
+seaward.</p>
+
+<p>The yacht was almost on the Grumblers! Up she heaved on a high surge,
+dropped. They caught their breaths. No! Not that time. She rose again.</p>
+
+<p>Down ... down ...</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she stopped. A grinding crash reached their ears.</p>
+
+<p>"She's struck!" screamed Lane.</p>
+
+<p>A blaze of sheet lightning showed her, careened landward, lying
+broadside toward them about one hundred feet distant. It was the
+beginning of the end. Jim, clinging to a boulder far out on the
+streaming ledges, now showered with spray, now buried waist-deep, was
+watching every movement of the crew.</p>
+
+<p>"They've made a line fast round the foremast!" he shouted back. "They're
+going to send its end ashore on a barrel! Watch out!"</p>
+
+<p>Presently the tossing cask was visible, drifting rapidly landward. For
+the first twenty-five yards its progress was unhindered; then a
+half-tide ledge barred its way. It hung on this in the trough of a sea;
+but the next billow swept it over. Before long it was bumping on the
+rocks almost within Jim's reach.</p>
+
+<p>Watching his chance, he lunged forward and<span class='pagenum'><a name="page277" id="page277">[Pg 277]</a></span> caught it. A crashing surge
+flung him down heavily and rolled him over and over; but he stuck
+stoutly to his prize. When the water ran back he came crawling up on his
+hands and knees, sliding the cask before him.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't stand!" he explained, briefly. "Ankle hurt! Now muckle onto this
+line, everybody, and haul in! They've got a hawser bent on the other
+end."</p>
+
+<p>A glance toward the yacht told that he was right. It also told that the
+peril of her human freight was greater than ever. Each sea, raising her
+slightly, dropped her back with her decks at a sharper angle toward the
+land. The grinding of the rocks through her steel side could be
+distinctly heard.</p>
+
+<p>"All together! In she comes! Now ... heave! Now ... heave! Now ...
+<i>heave!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>Their strength doubled by the realization that life hung on their
+efforts, the boys swayed at the line until at last they grasped the end
+of the hawser. To it was attached another smaller rope for pulling in a
+boatswain's chair.</p>
+
+<p>Working rapidly, they made the hawser fast round an upright boulder. The
+lightning flashes were now less frequent, but lanterns on the ship and
+ashore enabled each group to note the other's progress. At last the
+slender cableway was rigged. Jim swung a lantern. Another lantern on the
+yacht answered.</p>
+
+<p>"The smaller line, boys! Pull in! Careful!"</p>
+
+<p>As the boys hauled, a figure dangled away from the vessel's side.
+Shoreward it swayed, now high above the wave-troughs, now dipping
+through a lofty crest. It dragged safely over the inside ledge, while
+the boys<span class='pagenum'><a name="page278" id="page278">[Pg 278]</a></span> held their breaths; and presently they were unlashing a man
+from the boatswain's chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said in response to Jim's question, "she's the steam-yacht
+<i>Barona</i>. Belongs to Churchill Sadler of New York. One of his
+millionaire friends chartered her for a short trip to the Maine coast.
+Fifteen men aboard. I'm the mate. Came ashore first to see if this rig
+would work all right."</p>
+
+<p>The chair was already half-way back to the vessel.</p>
+
+<p>"They'll send Mr. Whittington next," continued the mate.</p>
+
+<p>Percy started with surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that? Whittington?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. John P., the millionaire! He's the man who hired the yacht."</p>
+
+<p>"He's my father!" gasped Percy.</p>
+
+<p>The mate gave an exclamation of astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Lucky we got this chair to working or soon you wouldn't have had any
+father!"</p>
+
+<p>The swinging seat had now reached the yacht. Two men lashed into it a
+stout, squarely built figure. The lantern signaled that all was ready
+and the shoreward journey began. Percy was shaking so violently that he
+could hardly pull. The mate reassured him.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be frightened, young fellow! We'll land him all right!"</p>
+
+<p>He added his strength to that of the others, and John P. Whittington
+came in faster. He reached the ledge, only twenty-five feet from shore.
+Then came disaster!</p>
+
+<p>Something gave way on the yacht, and the hawser<span class='pagenum'><a name="page279" id="page279">[Pg 279]</a></span> suddenly slackened,
+letting the boatswain's chair drag on the ledge. The end of a swinging
+rope caught in a crack. The millionaire stopped short!</p>
+
+<p>"Harder!" shouted the mate, setting the example.</p>
+
+<p>The boys surged on the rope, but to no avail; they could not budge the
+chair. Percy stood motionless with horror.</p>
+
+<p>Up curled a huge wave, high over the struggling figure. A thundering
+deluge hid him from view. It looked bad for John P. Whittington. Two or
+three seas more and it would matter little to him whether he was pulled
+in or not.</p>
+
+<p>Guttering and rumbling, the water flowed back. Down over the ledges
+after it leaped a slim, wiry figure. It was Percy Whittington!</p>
+
+<p>He had thrown off his oil-clothes to give his limbs greater freedom. His
+head was bare and his light hair stood straight up from his forehead.
+Grasping the hawser, he plunged into the sea and dragged himself toward
+the rock to which his father was fastened.</p>
+
+<p>The group on the point stood silent, watching him struggle yard by yard
+through the black water until he gained the ridge. On it lay the figure
+in the boatswain's chair, struggling feebly. Percy planted his feet on
+the slippery rock. But before he could reach his father another liquid
+avalanche buried them both.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to the anxious watchers as if it would never run back. When it
+did, the older man sagged from the chair, motionless; the lad still
+clung to the hawser. The future of the house of Whittington hung
+trembling in the balance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page280" id="page280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The mate gave a groan.</p>
+
+<p>"He can't do it!"</p>
+
+<p>At that very instant Percy roused to activity. Even before the ledge was
+entirely clear he was leaning over his father, knife in hand. It was
+useless to attempt to extricate the rope-end from the crack in which it
+was caught; the only thing to do was to cut it. Percy stooped quickly.
+Already the next sea was curling over his head. He made a savage assault
+upon the rope.</p>
+
+<p>Slash! Slash! Twice his arm rose and fell. The billow was breaking down
+over him when he leaped erect and flung up his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Pull!" yelled Jim.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the flood boiled over the ledge the chair and its senseless
+burden jerked away. Percy grasped the lashings and was towed along
+behind his father. Dread overcame him as he felt the limpness of the
+older man's body.</p>
+
+<p>Through the eddying tide ... up over the slippery rocks ... and
+presently Jim and the mate were unfastening the bonds that held the
+insensible millionaire in the boatswain's chair. They carried him up
+near the beacon and laid him down on Percy's oil-clothes.</p>
+
+<p>"He's breathing!" said the mate. "He'll come round all right. You'll
+know what to do for him. I'll go back and help get the other men off.
+Their lives mean just as much to their people as his does to you."</p>
+
+<p>Working with Budge and Throppy, he took in the slack of the hawser, and
+soon the chair was dancing back to the yacht. Meanwhile Jim and Percy
+were<span class='pagenum'><a name="page281" id="page281">[Pg 281]</a></span> working over Mr. Whittington, and before long he recovered his
+senses. With a groan he half raised himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Where am I?"</p>
+
+<p>"You're all right, Dad!"</p>
+
+<p>"Percy!"</p>
+
+<p>Both father and son showed a depth of feeling Jim would hardly have
+credited them with possessing.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't need me here any longer," he said. "I'll go down and help
+pull the others ashore. Throw these oil-clothes of mine over your
+father, Percy, and make him comfortable, and as soon as the rest are
+safe we'll carry him to camp."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" growled the millionaire. "Carry me? I guess you don't
+know the Whittingtons, young man!"</p>
+
+<p>His jaw set and he rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, Percy! Where's that camp?"</p>
+
+<p>Walking slowly, the father leaning on his son's shoulder, the two
+disappeared in the darkness. Jim watched them for a few seconds, then
+started down over the ledges. The last half-hour had raised his
+estimation of the Whittington stock considerably above par.</p>
+
+<p>Then for a time, engrossed in life-saving, he forgot everything else. At
+last all the men were landed safely. It was none too soon, for the yacht
+was now almost down on her side; and it was plain she would pound to
+pieces before very long.</p>
+
+<p>Rescuers and rescued sought the cabin, where a good fire and hot coffee
+awaited them. Whittington, senior, clad in dry clothing, lay in Percy's<span class='pagenum'><a name="page282" id="page282">[Pg 282]</a></span>
+bunk. Filippo was bustling to and fro to supply the wants of his
+numerous guests. His eyes fell upon a dark-haired, olive-skinned young
+man in the rear of the shipwrecked group, and the cup he was carrying
+clattered on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"Frank!" he cried. "<i>Fratello mio!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The brothers flung themselves into each other's arms. The Whittington
+family was not the only happy one in Camp Spurling that night.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="page283" id="page283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>XXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>CROSSING THE TAPE</h3>
+
+<p>There was little sleep on Tarpaulin, either for rescuers or rescued,
+until the small hours of the morning. The cabin was crowded to its
+utmost capacity, as the fish-house was too cold for the drenched,
+wearied men. Filippo kept a hot fire going until long after midnight,
+and served out coffee galore. During his intervals of leisure he and
+Frank conversed in liquid Sicilian.</p>
+
+<p>Outside, the storm roared and the surf boomed on the ledges about
+Brimstone; beyond in the blackness lay the wrecked <i>Barona</i>, hammering
+to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually conversation ceased and the camp grew quiet. The boys and
+their unexpected guests, sandwiched closely together on the floor and in
+the bunks, drifted off into fitful slumber. But John P. Whittington's
+eyes remained wide open.</p>
+
+<p>He was outstretched in Percy's bunk. His clothes hung drying before the
+stove, and he had on an old suit of Jim's, as nothing that Percy wore
+was large enough to fit his father's square, bulky figure. Beside him
+lay his son, sound asleep. John P. marveled at his regular breathing.
+Occasionally he touched the lad with his hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page284" id="page284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>All his thoughts centered about Percy. He could not but feel that this
+brown, wiry fellow who had saved his life was a stranger to him. He
+could see with half an eye that a great change had come over the boy
+during the summer; he had grown quieter, stronger, far more manly.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, Percy had stuck. John Whittington had only half believed that he
+could or would; and he had spent a good many valuable hours worrying
+over what he should do with his son if he didn't stick. The result
+showed that all those hours had been thrown away; but somehow the
+millionaire couldn't feel very bad about the waste.</p>
+
+<p>He began to wonder if Percy might not have done better in the past if
+his father had put in a little more time with him personally and spent
+less in mere money-making. He had tried to shift his responsibility off
+on somebody else, had hired others to do what he should have taken pains
+to do himself. That was a big mistake; John P. Whittington could see it
+plainly now. And it had come near being a pretty costly error for him,
+for Percy. Well, those days were over. Percy had turned squarely about
+and was doing better. Whittington, senior, determined to do better, too.</p>
+
+<p>Little by little the gale blew itself out. By daybreak the sky was clear
+and the wind had gone down, but the high rollers still wreaked their
+wrath on the shattered yacht and thundered on the point. A fiery sun
+shot its red rays over the slumberers in the crowded cabin. Filippo
+roused yawningly, built the fire, and busied himself about breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>Soon everybody was astir. The millionaire's<span class='pagenum'><a name="page285" id="page285">[Pg 285]</a></span> clothes were now dry, and
+he dressed with the others. Save for a slight stiffness and a few
+bruises, he was all right.</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast he went up on Brimstone with Percy and the others to
+take a look at the <i>Barona</i>. The steel hull lay on its side on the
+foaming reef, a battered, crumpled shape, sadly different from the trim
+yacht that had left New York so short a time before. A miscellaneous lot
+of wreckage was swashing in the surf at the base of the point, and Jim
+and some of the crew were salvaging what they could; but it was not very
+much.</p>
+
+<p>Standing in safety on the promontory in the sunlight of the pleasant
+morning, John P. Whittington gazed long at the wreck.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he remarked at last to the captain, who stood beside him, "I
+guess I see where I'm out fifty or seventy-five thousand dollars. Might
+as well take my medicine without a whimper. It was all my fault. You
+wanted to run into Portland when the storm was making up, but I thought
+we'd better try for some port nearer the island. I've gotten so into the
+habit of having men do as I want them to that I thought the wind and sea
+would do the same. But I've learned they won't. It's been an expensive
+mistake, and it came altogether too near being more expensive still.
+It's up to me to foot the bills. I'll make it all right with you and the
+crew and Sadler."</p>
+
+<p>The sea was going down rapidly. A council was held. The Rockland boat
+would leave Matinicus at half past one, and, as Jim felt that the
+<i>Barracouta</i> could easily make the run to the island, it was de<span class='pagenum'><a name="page286" id="page286">[Pg 286]</a></span>cided to
+send the crew back to New York that very day. The captain and the mate
+arranged to remain on Tarpaulin until a wrecking-tug from Boston should
+arrive.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Whittington, yielding to the persuasions of Percy and the invitation
+of the other boys, consented to take the first vacation of his life and
+stop with them a week or ten days, when their season on the island would
+close.</p>
+
+<p>While the crew were preparing to embark, Filippo approached Jim with his
+newly found brother.</p>
+
+<p>"I like to go with Frank," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry to have you leave, Filippo," returned Jim. "But I know just how
+you feel, and I don't blame you a bit."</p>
+
+<p>He called Stevens and Lane aside. Presently the latter went into the
+cabin and reappeared with a roll of bills. Jim handed them to the
+Italian.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's one hundred dollars, Filippo, your share for your summer's work.
+You've earned it fairly. If there's anything more coming to you, after
+we figure up, I'll send it on. What will your address be? We hope to see
+you again some time."</p>
+
+<p>Filippo was overcome. Tears of gratitude filled his eyes as he stammered
+his thanks. It was arranged that letters in the care of the Italian
+consul at Boston would always be forwarded to him.</p>
+
+<p>Jim and Throppy took the departing party over to Matinicus on the
+<i>Barracouta</i>, getting them there in ample time for the Rockland steamer.
+The sloop was back at Tarpaulin by four o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile John P. Whittington had started on his vacation. Though his
+time ran into thousands<span class='pagenum'><a name="page287" id="page287">[Pg 287]</a></span> of dollars a week, he felt he could profitably
+spend a little of it in getting acquainted with his boy. One of the
+first things his keen eyes noted was the absence of the cigarettes.</p>
+
+<p>"Knocked off, eh, Percy? For how long?"</p>
+
+<p>"For good, Dad!"</p>
+
+<p>The millionaire suppressed a whistle; something had certainly struck
+Percy.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning, his sturdy figure garbed in oilskins, he started out
+with his son and Jim for Clay Bank. He had to acknowledge that rising at
+midnight was a little early, even for a man accustomed to work as hard
+as he had always done.</p>
+
+<p>Out on the shoal he was a silent but interested spectator while the
+trawl was being pulled and the fish taken aboard. An old swell was
+running, and he speedily discovered that seasickness was another thing
+his will could not master. That afternoon he watched Percy skilfully
+handle the splitting-knife and later do his part in baiting the trawl.</p>
+
+<p>On the morning following he went out lobstering, and found as much to
+interest him as on the day before. Everything was new to him. He
+discovered that even a man experienced in big business can learn some
+things from boys. Soon his sleep at night was as sound as his son's.</p>
+
+<p>He made a trip to Matinicus in the <i>Barracouta</i>, and talked prices with
+the superintendent of the fish-wharf and the proprietor of the general
+store.</p>
+
+<p>"Have a bottle of lemon, Dad?" invited Percy.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Whittington was on the point of refusing; he did not care for soda.
+On second thought, however, he drank it soberly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page288" id="page288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Percy appreciated his father's acceptance of the proffered courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the first time my money ever bought anything for you."</p>
+
+<p>The experience was a novel one for them both.</p>
+
+<p>Just after light one morning the wrecking-tug from Boston appeared. A
+brief examination of the <i>Barona's</i> hull by a diver showed that the
+havoc wrought by the sea and rocks had been so great that but little of
+value could be saved. So the tug started back that very afternoon, and
+the captain and the mate of the yacht went with her.</p>
+
+<p>The weather was now much cooler, and the boys were glad that their stay
+was to be short. Wild geese were honking overhead in V-shaped lines on
+their way south. Mr. Whittington accompanied the others on a gunning
+trip to Window Ledge, and came back with a dozen coots. He smacked his
+lips over the coot stew and dumplings prepared by Jim. Throppy
+dismantled his wireless and packed up his outfit to send away.</p>
+
+<p>On their last Thursday at Tarpaulin Uncle Tom Sprowl came in on the
+smack with Captain Higgins. He had boarded the <i>Calista</i> at York Island.
+Everybody, including Nemo and Oso, was glad to see Uncle Tom. His
+rheumatism was fully cured and he was spry and chipper. He was more than
+satisfied with what the boys had accomplished during the summer, and he
+planned to continue lobstering after their departure.</p>
+
+<p>He noted the change in Percy.</p>
+
+<p>"Told Jim your son needed salting," he confided to Mr. Whittington.
+"He's all right now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="page289" id="page289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The afternoon before they were to leave the island Roger reckoned up his
+accounts. They showed that after Uncle Tom's share had been deducted,
+Spurling &amp; Company had a thousand dollars to divide. Of this, one
+hundred dollars had already been paid to Filippo.</p>
+
+<p>Lane handed Percy one hundred and fifty dollars.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want him to take that," objected Mr. Whittington.</p>
+
+<p>"We shouldn't feel right if he didn't," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad," spoke up Percy, "I want it. I've earned it. Look at those hands
+and arms. It's the first money I ever had that you didn't give to me.
+I'm going to have one of the bills framed behind glass."</p>
+
+<p>"He's earned it, fast enough," corroborated Jim. "Let him take it, Mr.
+Whittington. We'll all feel better about it if you will."</p>
+
+<p>So the millionaire gave his consent, with the mental reservation that in
+some way he would make it up to the others later.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do with all that wealth, Percy?" he asked. "It
+won't keep you very long in gasolene."</p>
+
+<p>"Send half of it to Filippo for his brother Frank," replied Percy,
+promptly. "He lost about all he had when the <i>Barona</i> was wrecked."</p>
+
+<p>Later that afternoon Mr. Whittington took Jim aside out of Percy's
+hearing.</p>
+
+<p>"Honestly, between us, how has the boy done this summer?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't ask to have anybody take hold any better than he has since
+the middle of July."</p>
+
+<p>The millionaire looked gratified.<span class='pagenum'><a name="page290" id="page290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'm more than pleased at the way things have turned out, and I don't
+know how I can ever repay you. Can't I help you somehow in money
+matters?"</p>
+
+<p>Jim shook his head decidedly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you, Mr. Whittington. As I told you at the beginning of the
+summer, we're making our own way. Percy is entitled to every cent we've
+paid him, and I can honestly say we're glad he's been with us."</p>
+
+<p>A half-hour afterward Mr. Whittington found his son alone.</p>
+
+<p>"How about those college conditions, Percy?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Just finished my work on 'em before the wreck, Dad. I'm ready to take
+my exams the minute I strike college. It's been a hard pull, harder even
+than the fishing and lobstering, and it's kept me hustling; but I
+believe I've won out. Studying isn't so bad. All you've got to do is to
+make up your mind to get your lessons, and then get 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"That's so in other things besides studying, Percy. You'll find it out
+later on."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I don't need to tell you," continued his son, "how much I owe
+to Jim Spurling and the others. They're the whitest bunch I ever ran
+with, and I wouldn't have missed my summer with them for anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Something different from what you felt three months ago, eh, Percy?
+Remember our talk at Graffam Academy, Commencement night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rather guess I do! And, believe me, I sha'n't forget it in a hurry. By
+the way, there's one fellow<span class='pagenum'><a name="page291" id="page291">[Pg 291]</a></span> I owe a good deal to that I haven't told
+you about yet."</p>
+
+<p>He related to his father the story of his two encounters with Jabe. The
+older man listened with grim but satisfied attention.</p>
+
+<p>"Licked him at last, did you? If you hadn't, I should want you to look
+him up and do it now. It's a Whittington habit to carry through what you
+begin. Well, Percy, you've certainly made good."</p>
+
+<p>A glimmer of pride, the first he had ever shown in his son, crossed his
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"I blamed you for junking your auto. Now I've gone and junked a yacht
+that'll cost me more than fifty times as much. Well, there's no fool
+like the old fool! But it's been worth it."</p>
+
+<p>He gave his son a look in which affection mingled with pride.</p>
+
+<p>"It was quicksilver, kill or cure; and I'm mighty glad it's been cure."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 26560-h.txt or 26560-h.zip *******</p>
+<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br />
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/5/6/26560">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/5/6/26560</a></p>
+<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.</p>
+
+<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.</p>
+
+
+
+<pre>
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license)</a>.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's
+eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,
+compressed (zipped), HTML and others.
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
+the old filename and etext number.  The replaced older file is renamed.
+VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving
+new filenames and etext numbers.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a>
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000,
+are filed in directories based on their release date.  If you want to
+download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular
+search system you may utilize the following addresses and just
+download by the etext year.
+
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a>
+
+    (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99,
+     98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90)
+
+EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are
+filed in a different way.  The year of a release date is no longer part
+of the directory path.  The path is based on the etext number (which is
+identical to the filename).  The path to the file is made up of single
+digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename.  For
+example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234
+
+or filename 24689 would be found at:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689
+
+An alternative method of locating eBooks:
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a>
+
+*** END: FULL LICENSE ***
+</pre>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image1.jpg b/26560-h/images/image1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..64a84c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image1.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image10.jpg b/26560-h/images/image10.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d854fe5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image10.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image11.jpg b/26560-h/images/image11.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3ba048f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image11.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image12.jpg b/26560-h/images/image12.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f162db8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image12.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image13.jpg b/26560-h/images/image13.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75b22cb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image13.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image14.jpg b/26560-h/images/image14.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e5e1b48
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image14.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image15.jpg b/26560-h/images/image15.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c2fad8e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image15.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image16.jpg b/26560-h/images/image16.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5273d21
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image16.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image2.jpg b/26560-h/images/image2.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..17a1542
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image2.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image3.jpg b/26560-h/images/image3.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..760952f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image3.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image4.jpg b/26560-h/images/image4.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..287a800
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image4.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image5.jpg b/26560-h/images/image5.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3fbaaf8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image5.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image6.jpg b/26560-h/images/image6.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f0b616c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image6.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image7.jpg b/26560-h/images/image7.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..71320a3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image7.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image8.jpg b/26560-h/images/image8.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..35d5424
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image8.jpg
diff --git a/26560-h/images/image9.jpg b/26560-h/images/image9.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b73fabe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-h/images/image9.jpg
diff --git a/26560-page-images/f0001.png b/26560-page-images/f0001.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7923c9c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/f0001.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/f0003.png b/26560-page-images/f0003.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cbdee74
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/f0003.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/f0004.png b/26560-page-images/f0004.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..30ad106
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/f0004.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/f0005.png b/26560-page-images/f0005.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e6319c8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/f0005.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/f0007.png b/26560-page-images/f0007.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..86a76eb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/f0007.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/f0009.png b/26560-page-images/f0009.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fc2062c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/f0009.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/f0010.png b/26560-page-images/f0010.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d62bb9c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/f0010.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0001.png b/26560-page-images/p0001.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4ef3d2d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0001.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0002.png b/26560-page-images/p0002.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e89361
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0002.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0003.png b/26560-page-images/p0003.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2c2c670
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0003.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0004.png b/26560-page-images/p0004.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4a1bc0c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0004.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0005.png b/26560-page-images/p0005.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f80cbd0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0005.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0006.png b/26560-page-images/p0006.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7a0ba2b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0006.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0007.png b/26560-page-images/p0007.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fbaab78
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0007.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0008.png b/26560-page-images/p0008.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d8bb0ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0008.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0009.png b/26560-page-images/p0009.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9f5781f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0009.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0010.png b/26560-page-images/p0010.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5b58457
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0010.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0011.png b/26560-page-images/p0011.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db51c34
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0011.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0012.png b/26560-page-images/p0012.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7535bf0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0012.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0013.png b/26560-page-images/p0013.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9eddd28
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0013.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0014.png b/26560-page-images/p0014.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3d103f2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0014.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0015.png b/26560-page-images/p0015.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..17eac16
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0015.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0016.png b/26560-page-images/p0016.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b988532
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0016.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0017.png b/26560-page-images/p0017.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..808fd21
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0017.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0018.png b/26560-page-images/p0018.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8a064e1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0018.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0019.png b/26560-page-images/p0019.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a619a97
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0019.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0020.png b/26560-page-images/p0020.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d65c962
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0020.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0021.png b/26560-page-images/p0021.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..66943f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0021.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0022.png b/26560-page-images/p0022.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..120f905
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0022.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0023.png b/26560-page-images/p0023.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48c4cfc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0023.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0024.png b/26560-page-images/p0024.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e21ce0a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0024.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0025.png b/26560-page-images/p0025.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..424afb8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0025.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0026.png b/26560-page-images/p0026.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..954c95e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0026.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0027.png b/26560-page-images/p0027.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f0f41f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0027.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0028.png b/26560-page-images/p0028.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f4e43d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0028.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0029.png b/26560-page-images/p0029.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..22a1a71
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0029.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0030.png b/26560-page-images/p0030.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c6a2fd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0030.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0031.png b/26560-page-images/p0031.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..35de4cf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0031.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0032.png b/26560-page-images/p0032.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..22b1c01
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0032.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0033.png b/26560-page-images/p0033.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..60e13d4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0033.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0034.png b/26560-page-images/p0034.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..01964a9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0034.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0035.png b/26560-page-images/p0035.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e2f30b7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0035.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0036.png b/26560-page-images/p0036.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1d06b77
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0036.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0037.png b/26560-page-images/p0037.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..817855e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0037.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0038.png b/26560-page-images/p0038.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7efbf14
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0038.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0039.png b/26560-page-images/p0039.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..59ff568
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0039.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0040.png b/26560-page-images/p0040.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3236cf0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0040.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0041.png b/26560-page-images/p0041.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6abf6b5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0041.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0042.png b/26560-page-images/p0042.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..58c9c67
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0042.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0043.png b/26560-page-images/p0043.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a6ece8c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0043.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0044.png b/26560-page-images/p0044.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..37833a1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0044.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0045.png b/26560-page-images/p0045.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b8a06f1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0045.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0046.png b/26560-page-images/p0046.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b535894
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0046.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0047.png b/26560-page-images/p0047.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aa6781f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0047.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0048.png b/26560-page-images/p0048.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..02ac22d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0048.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0049.png b/26560-page-images/p0049.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0880273
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0049.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0050.png b/26560-page-images/p0050.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cb70566
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0050.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0051.png b/26560-page-images/p0051.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cbaabe1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0051.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0052.png b/26560-page-images/p0052.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d7bc986
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0052.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0053.png b/26560-page-images/p0053.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6aa6587
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0053.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0054.png b/26560-page-images/p0054.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..559419a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0054.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0055.png b/26560-page-images/p0055.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a6e0d26
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0055.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0056.png b/26560-page-images/p0056.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2b955ef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0056.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0057.png b/26560-page-images/p0057.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..006bc33
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0057.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0058.png b/26560-page-images/p0058.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5928e1e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0058.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0059.png b/26560-page-images/p0059.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cbd3734
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0059.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0060.png b/26560-page-images/p0060.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..041c5e7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0060.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0061.png b/26560-page-images/p0061.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fd3fa58
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0061.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0062.png b/26560-page-images/p0062.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..097c284
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0062.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0063.png b/26560-page-images/p0063.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2dbe72e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0063.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0064.png b/26560-page-images/p0064.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..52cc551
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0064.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0065.png b/26560-page-images/p0065.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d306e38
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0065.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0066.png b/26560-page-images/p0066.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c799ed7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0066.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0067.png b/26560-page-images/p0067.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..44f38cf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0067.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0068.png b/26560-page-images/p0068.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e309566
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0068.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0069.png b/26560-page-images/p0069.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..acee020
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0069.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0070.png b/26560-page-images/p0070.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..375818f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0070.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0071.png b/26560-page-images/p0071.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c76acef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0071.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0072.png b/26560-page-images/p0072.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ba5bbd6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0072.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0073.png b/26560-page-images/p0073.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b4353a4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0073.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0074.png b/26560-page-images/p0074.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..efab79b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0074.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0075.png b/26560-page-images/p0075.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d50a68d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0075.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0076.png b/26560-page-images/p0076.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0e45709
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0076.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0077.png b/26560-page-images/p0077.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..876057b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0077.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0078.png b/26560-page-images/p0078.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..adf4e96
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0078.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0079.png b/26560-page-images/p0079.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b6e11f0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0079.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0080.png b/26560-page-images/p0080.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..28fa969
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0080.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0081.png b/26560-page-images/p0081.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..63f0770
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0081.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0082.png b/26560-page-images/p0082.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ae0ba13
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0082.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0083.png b/26560-page-images/p0083.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b043a1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0083.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0084.png b/26560-page-images/p0084.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1c006d0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0084.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0085.png b/26560-page-images/p0085.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..38b2bb9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0085.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0086.png b/26560-page-images/p0086.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..35d6337
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0086.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0087.png b/26560-page-images/p0087.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0c14dc5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0087.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0088.png b/26560-page-images/p0088.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5aac2a6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0088.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0089.png b/26560-page-images/p0089.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99a15f4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0089.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0090.png b/26560-page-images/p0090.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1c6b180
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0090.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0091.png b/26560-page-images/p0091.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0a9b3ae
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0091.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0092.png b/26560-page-images/p0092.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ede7807
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0092.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0093.png b/26560-page-images/p0093.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..53a25f6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0093.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0094.png b/26560-page-images/p0094.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8a1d137
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0094.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0095.png b/26560-page-images/p0095.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c097b8b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0095.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0096.png b/26560-page-images/p0096.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f639ab4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0096.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0097.png b/26560-page-images/p0097.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..26db5f5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0097.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0098.png b/26560-page-images/p0098.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f7d6cd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0098.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0099.png b/26560-page-images/p0099.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1088e51
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0099.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0100.png b/26560-page-images/p0100.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..747380e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0100.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0101.png b/26560-page-images/p0101.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e323e6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0101.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0102.png b/26560-page-images/p0102.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3faa0ad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0102.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0103.png b/26560-page-images/p0103.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..15b0726
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0103.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0104.png b/26560-page-images/p0104.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d85eddb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0104.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0105.png b/26560-page-images/p0105.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32ddd96
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0105.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0106.png b/26560-page-images/p0106.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9ab6525
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0106.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0107.png b/26560-page-images/p0107.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9e8e6a6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0107.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0108.png b/26560-page-images/p0108.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fc6636a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0108.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0109.png b/26560-page-images/p0109.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4546c15
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0109.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0110.png b/26560-page-images/p0110.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bb04df4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0110.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0111.png b/26560-page-images/p0111.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a1beaaa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0111.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0112.png b/26560-page-images/p0112.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a240170
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0112.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0113.png b/26560-page-images/p0113.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4f0e2ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0113.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0114.png b/26560-page-images/p0114.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1203127
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0114.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0115.png b/26560-page-images/p0115.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2a6d7a6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0115.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0116.png b/26560-page-images/p0116.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3823e85
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0116.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0117.png b/26560-page-images/p0117.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bae847c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0117.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0118.png b/26560-page-images/p0118.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..00d9306
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0118.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0119.png b/26560-page-images/p0119.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0855392
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0119.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0120.png b/26560-page-images/p0120.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5121cd3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0120.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0121.png b/26560-page-images/p0121.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0982611
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0121.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0122.png b/26560-page-images/p0122.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b9dd25
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0122.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0123.png b/26560-page-images/p0123.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..24626d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0123.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0124.png b/26560-page-images/p0124.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ecc8401
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0124.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0125.png b/26560-page-images/p0125.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e84ce3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0125.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0126.png b/26560-page-images/p0126.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..80bbae3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0126.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0127.png b/26560-page-images/p0127.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9074157
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0127.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0128.png b/26560-page-images/p0128.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ff3387e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0128.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0129.png b/26560-page-images/p0129.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a96747f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0129.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0130.png b/26560-page-images/p0130.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b117f76
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0130.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0131.png b/26560-page-images/p0131.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eaae799
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0131.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0132.png b/26560-page-images/p0132.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1670580
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0132.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0133.png b/26560-page-images/p0133.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..affdf97
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0133.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0134.png b/26560-page-images/p0134.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7227680
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0134.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0135.png b/26560-page-images/p0135.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4ec2089
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0135.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0136.png b/26560-page-images/p0136.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1c52ad0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0136.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0137.png b/26560-page-images/p0137.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e8edfe9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0137.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0138.png b/26560-page-images/p0138.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c01237a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0138.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0139.png b/26560-page-images/p0139.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8c93872
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0139.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0140.png b/26560-page-images/p0140.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a9d6f76
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0140.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0141.png b/26560-page-images/p0141.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4af6765
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0141.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0142.png b/26560-page-images/p0142.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e09635d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0142.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0143.png b/26560-page-images/p0143.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..24c8385
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0143.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0144.png b/26560-page-images/p0144.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ecc9fe7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0144.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0145.png b/26560-page-images/p0145.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9028b13
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0145.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0146.png b/26560-page-images/p0146.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..23481eb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0146.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0147.png b/26560-page-images/p0147.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..88a6c7c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0147.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0148.png b/26560-page-images/p0148.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4dbcf1b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0148.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0149.png b/26560-page-images/p0149.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aa97f6f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0149.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0150.png b/26560-page-images/p0150.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..68a5673
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0150.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0151.png b/26560-page-images/p0151.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2978bde
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0151.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0152.png b/26560-page-images/p0152.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5be1bc5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0152.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0153.png b/26560-page-images/p0153.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5a1ebd6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0153.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0154.png b/26560-page-images/p0154.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d49048f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0154.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0155.png b/26560-page-images/p0155.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7993e48
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0155.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0156.png b/26560-page-images/p0156.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c7ef1e8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0156.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0157.png b/26560-page-images/p0157.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0bdf5ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0157.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0158.png b/26560-page-images/p0158.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d80ef7d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0158.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0159.png b/26560-page-images/p0159.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1408c62
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0159.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0160.png b/26560-page-images/p0160.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ca6023
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0160.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0161.png b/26560-page-images/p0161.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fa255a9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0161.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0162.png b/26560-page-images/p0162.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fc62929
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0162.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0163.png b/26560-page-images/p0163.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..85f9b1b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0163.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0164.png b/26560-page-images/p0164.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0425a83
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0164.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0165.png b/26560-page-images/p0165.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8cdb164
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0165.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0166.png b/26560-page-images/p0166.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e097ff7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0166.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0167.png b/26560-page-images/p0167.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8190190
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0167.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0168.png b/26560-page-images/p0168.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8b93a04
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0168.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0169.png b/26560-page-images/p0169.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8f38ae9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0169.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0170.png b/26560-page-images/p0170.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..348c14c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0170.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0171.png b/26560-page-images/p0171.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48d176a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0171.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0172.png b/26560-page-images/p0172.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5fa3b0c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0172.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0173.png b/26560-page-images/p0173.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0db208d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0173.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0174.png b/26560-page-images/p0174.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..79c5be3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0174.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0175.png b/26560-page-images/p0175.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..510036f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0175.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0176.png b/26560-page-images/p0176.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4d19098
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0176.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0177.png b/26560-page-images/p0177.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a9691d8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0177.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0178.png b/26560-page-images/p0178.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..785f20a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0178.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0179.png b/26560-page-images/p0179.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cd1049f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0179.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0180.png b/26560-page-images/p0180.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..febb33d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0180.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0181.png b/26560-page-images/p0181.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9a62350
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0181.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0182.png b/26560-page-images/p0182.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c9f02ca
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0182.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0183.png b/26560-page-images/p0183.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cbc74a9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0183.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0184.png b/26560-page-images/p0184.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f8e12fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0184.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0185.png b/26560-page-images/p0185.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bcd109c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0185.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0186.png b/26560-page-images/p0186.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6d8f649
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0186.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0187.png b/26560-page-images/p0187.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0bcc71e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0187.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0188.png b/26560-page-images/p0188.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..481cd1c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0188.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0189.png b/26560-page-images/p0189.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..920d58d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0189.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0190.png b/26560-page-images/p0190.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..117993c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0190.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0191.png b/26560-page-images/p0191.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dcc8af4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0191.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0192.png b/26560-page-images/p0192.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6c4a28d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0192.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0193.png b/26560-page-images/p0193.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..638bf91
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0193.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0194.png b/26560-page-images/p0194.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..23101b9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0194.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0195.png b/26560-page-images/p0195.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..54f6e3c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0195.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0196.png b/26560-page-images/p0196.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..40ad4bb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0196.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0197.png b/26560-page-images/p0197.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3eb36ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0197.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0198.png b/26560-page-images/p0198.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32cd1b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0198.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0199.png b/26560-page-images/p0199.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d74ef64
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0199.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0200.png b/26560-page-images/p0200.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aba78da
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0200.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0201.png b/26560-page-images/p0201.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75812c1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0201.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0202.png b/26560-page-images/p0202.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b9cbc0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0202.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0203.png b/26560-page-images/p0203.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d96e126
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0203.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0204.png b/26560-page-images/p0204.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4817112
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0204.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0205.png b/26560-page-images/p0205.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..287bea4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0205.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0206.png b/26560-page-images/p0206.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99b013b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0206.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0207.png b/26560-page-images/p0207.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..beb8076
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0207.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0208.png b/26560-page-images/p0208.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d393c42
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0208.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0209.png b/26560-page-images/p0209.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..51a8c52
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0209.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0210.png b/26560-page-images/p0210.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5597e92
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0210.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0211.png b/26560-page-images/p0211.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7c62c6d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0211.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0212.png b/26560-page-images/p0212.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b16b239
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0212.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0213.png b/26560-page-images/p0213.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7635d3c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0213.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0214.png b/26560-page-images/p0214.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..56b7c9a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0214.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0215.png b/26560-page-images/p0215.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1cb93ca
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0215.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0216.png b/26560-page-images/p0216.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d8b3f2b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0216.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0217.png b/26560-page-images/p0217.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9f93220
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0217.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0218.png b/26560-page-images/p0218.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6557fcb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0218.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0219.png b/26560-page-images/p0219.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..050285b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0219.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0220.png b/26560-page-images/p0220.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..717dd89
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0220.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0221.png b/26560-page-images/p0221.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..910c1c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0221.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0222.png b/26560-page-images/p0222.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8580262
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0222.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0223.png b/26560-page-images/p0223.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ec01fbe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0223.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0224.png b/26560-page-images/p0224.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..44a63e0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0224.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0225.png b/26560-page-images/p0225.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7384ec4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0225.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0226.png b/26560-page-images/p0226.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a927c7e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0226.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0227.png b/26560-page-images/p0227.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..14bba24
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0227.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0228.png b/26560-page-images/p0228.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..acb8bff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0228.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0229.png b/26560-page-images/p0229.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1190bbb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0229.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0230.png b/26560-page-images/p0230.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ad6a6cf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0230.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0231.png b/26560-page-images/p0231.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3cd69cb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0231.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0232.png b/26560-page-images/p0232.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..46abd0f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0232.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0233.png b/26560-page-images/p0233.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..70b8d39
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0233.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0234.png b/26560-page-images/p0234.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6623708
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0234.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0235.png b/26560-page-images/p0235.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ac682e6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0235.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0236.png b/26560-page-images/p0236.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a925809
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0236.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0237.png b/26560-page-images/p0237.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4a8fae9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0237.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0238.png b/26560-page-images/p0238.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e06a5b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0238.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0239.png b/26560-page-images/p0239.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c0bf87d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0239.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0240.png b/26560-page-images/p0240.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..40d9f0a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0240.png
diff --git a/26560-page-images/p0241.png b/26560-page-images/p0241.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..642950d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560-page-images/p0241.png
diff --git a/26560.txt b/26560.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bff1fe3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,9682 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Jim Spurling, Fisherman, by Albert Walter
+Tolman
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Jim Spurling, Fisherman
+       or Making Good
+
+
+Author: Albert Walter Tolman
+
+
+
+Release Date: September 8, 2008  [eBook #26560]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Bruce Albrecht, Verity White, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 26560-h.htm or 26560-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/5/6/26560/26560-h/26560-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/5/6/26560/26560-h.zip)
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+      Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has been
+      preserved.
+
+      Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
+
+
+
+
+
+JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN
+
+or Making Good
+
+by
+
+ALBERT W. TOLMAN
+
+Illustrated
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: [See page 279
+
+HE PLUNGED INTO THE SEA AND DRAGGED HIMSELF TOWARD THE ROCK TO WHICH HIS
+FATHER WAS FASTENED]
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Harper & Brothers Publishers
+New York and London
+
+JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN
+
+Copyright, 1918, by Harper & Brothers
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+TO MY BOYS
+ALBERT AND EDWARD
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAP.                                 PAGE
+  I.      SMASHED UP                       1
+  II.     A FRESH START                   18
+  III.    TARPAULIN ISLAND                29
+  IV.     MIDNIGHT MARAUDERS              41
+  V.      GETTING READY                   53
+  VI.     TRAWLING FOR HAKE               66
+  VII.    SHORTS AND COUNTERS             78
+  VIII.   SALT-WATER GIPSIES              90
+  IX.     FISTS AND FIREWORKS            102
+  X.      REBELLION IN CAMP              114
+  XI.     TURN OF THE TIDE               128
+  XII.    PULLING TOGETHER               138
+  XIII.   FOG-BOUND                      150
+  XIV.    SWORDFISHING                   162
+  XV.     MIDSUMMER DAYS                 174
+  XVI.    A LOST ALUMNUS                 186
+  XVII.   BLOWN OFF                      198
+  XVIII.  BUOY OR BREAKER                208
+  XIX.    ON THE WHISTLER                221
+  XX.     SQUARING AN ACCOUNT            233
+  XXI.    OLD FRIENDS                    243
+  XXII.   PERCY SCORES                   255
+  XXIII.  WHITTINGTON GRIT               269
+  XXIV.   CROSSING THE TAPE              283
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+HE PLUNGED INTO THE SEA AND DRAGGED HIMSELF
+TOWARD THE ROCK TO WHICH HIS FATHER WAS
+FASTENED                                          _Frontispiece_
+
+THE CAMP AT SPROWL'S COVE                           _Facing p._   56
+
+LEANING AGAINST THE MAST-HOOP THAT ENCIRCLED
+HIS WAIST, HE LIFTED THE LONG LANCE AND
+POISED IT FOR THE BLOW                                  "        166
+
+KNEES BRACED TIGHTLY AGAINST THE SIDES OF THE
+STERN, HANDS LOCKED ROUND THE STOUT BUTT
+OF THE LANCE, HE FOILED RUSH AFTER RUSH OF
+THE BLACK-FINNED, WHITE-BELLIED PIRATES                 "        172
+
+THEY STOOD CLOSE TOGETHER ON THE CIRCULAR TOP,
+HOLDING ON TO THE CROSSED BAILS, WAIST-HIGH             "        222
+
+"WE NEED THAT SLOOP AND WE'RE GOING TO HAVE
+HER!"                                                   "        252
+
+
+
+
+JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN
+
+
+
+
+JIM SPURLING
+FISHERMAN
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+SMASHED UP
+
+
+"Here comes J. P. Whittington, Junior, Esquire, in his new Norman! Some
+speed--what?"
+
+The three Graffam Academy seniors, Jim Spurling, Roger Lane, and
+Winthrop Stevens, who were sitting on the low, wooden fence before the
+campus, earnestly discussing the one thing that had engrossed their
+minds for the past two weeks, stopped talking and leaned forward.
+
+On the broad, elm-lined street beyond the Mall suddenly appeared a cloud
+of dust, out of which shot a gray automobile. Its high speed soon
+brought it to the academy grounds, and it came to an abrupt stop before
+the fence.
+
+"Pile in, fellows!" shouted the driver, a bareheaded youth in white
+flannels, "and I'll take you on a little spin."
+
+He was a slim, sallow lad of seventeen, with a straw-colored pompadour
+crowning his freckled forehead. The sleeves of his outing shirt were
+rolled up above his elbows, revealing his bony, sunburnt arms. He wore a
+gay red tie, and a tennis blazer, striped black and white, lay on the
+seat beside him.
+
+"No, thanks, Percy," replied Lane. "Sorry we can't go; but we're too
+busy."
+
+Spurling and Stevens nodded as Whittington's light-blue eyes traveled
+inquiringly from one to the other.
+
+"Ah, come on!" he invited. "Be sports! Let's celebrate the end of the
+course. Just to show how good I feel, I'm going to scorch a three-mile
+hole through the atmosphere between here and Mount Barlow faster than it
+was ever done before. Tumble aboard and help hold this barouche down on
+the pike while I burn the top off it for the last time."
+
+Pulling out a book of tissue wrappers and a sack of tobacco, he began to
+roll a cigarette with twitching, yellowed fingers.
+
+"Anybody got a match? No? Then I'll have to dig one up myself."
+
+He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a lucifer. Soon he was inhaling
+the smoke and talking rapidly.
+
+"I'm so glad this is my last week here I feel like kicking my head off.
+Once I shake the dust of this dump off my tires, you can bet you'll
+never catch me here again. Say, do you know what this Main Street
+reminds me of? An avenue in Metairie Cemetery in New Orleans, with a row
+of white tombs on each side. I saw it last Christmas. They bury 'em
+aboveground there, too. The Rubes in this burg are just as dead, only
+they don't know it."
+
+Drawing a final, long, luxurious whiff, he tossed the half-smoked
+cigarette away.
+
+"Well, so long! My dad's coming on the five-ten to see his only son
+graduate _cum laude_. And me loaded down with conditions a truck-horse
+couldn't haul! Wouldn't that jar you? Guess I'll have to do my
+road-burning before he gets here. Hold a watch on me, will you? I'm out
+for the record."
+
+"Careful, or you'll get pinched for over-speeding," cautioned Stevens.
+
+Whittington spat contemptuously.
+
+"Pinch your grandmother!" he jeered. "I've been pinched too many times
+to mind a little thing like that."
+
+Off darted the gray car. The three gazed after it in silence. Then
+Spurling spoke.
+
+"Must seem rather pleasant to have a bank-account you can't touch the
+bottom of, mustn't it? They say his father's all sorts of a millionaire.
+Hope he doesn't get smashed up or run over somebody."
+
+"He's a good-natured fool," commented Lane. "But you can't help liking
+him, after all. Now let's get back to business."
+
+It was Commencement week in mid-June at the old country academy nestled
+among the New England hills. The lawns before the substantial white
+houses were emerald with the fresh, unrivaled green of spring. Fragrant
+lilacs sweetened the soft air. The walks under the thick-leafed elms
+were thronged with talking, laughing groups. Bright-colored dresses
+dotted the campus before the dingy brick buildings. Tennis-courts and
+ball-field were alive with active figures. A few days more and students
+and strangers would be gone, and the old town would sink into the drowsy
+quiet of the long summer vacation.
+
+Lounging on the notched, whittled fence, Lane, Spurling, and Stevens
+fell once more into earnest conversation.
+
+Spurling came from a Maine coast town. He was nineteen, tall,
+broad-shouldered, dark-complexioned, deliberate in speech and movements.
+Physically very strong, he had caught on the academy ball team and
+played guard in football. Mentally he was a trifle slow; but in the
+whole school there was no squarer, more solid fellow. So far as finances
+went, he was dependent on his own resources; whatever education he got
+he must earn himself.
+
+Lane afforded in many respects a decided contrast to Spurling. Reared on
+a New Hampshire farm in the shadow of the White Mountains, he was of
+medium build, wiry and active, a practical joker, full of life and
+spirit. He had red hair and the quick temper that goes with it. Though
+not much of a student, he had at eighteen a keen, clear business head.
+Like Spurling, he had been obliged to make his own way; and, like
+Spurling, he was abundantly able to make it.
+
+Winthrop Stevens, or "Throppy," as his friends nicknamed him, claimed a
+small Massachusetts city as his home. He was the best scholar of the
+three, dark, quiet, studious, with a decided trend toward mechanics and
+electricity. Though not obliged to work for his schooling, he had always
+chummed with the other two, and with them had been a waiter at a shore
+hotel the previous season.
+
+The trio were endeavoring to decide what they should do the coming
+summer.
+
+"Well," said Lane, "what shall it be? Juggling food again at the
+Beachmont?"
+
+"Not for me," answered Spurling, decidedly. "I'm sick of hanging round a
+table, pretending to do as many unnecessary things as you can, wondering
+whether the man you've waited on is going to give up a half-dollar or a
+nickel, knowing that the more uncomfortable you can make him feel the
+bigger fee you'll pull down. No more tipping for me! I'd rather earn my
+money, even if I don't get so much."
+
+"Hits me, Jim," assented Stevens. "What do you say, Budge?"
+
+"Same here," agreed Roger.
+
+The long-drawn shriek of a locomotive rose from the valley-bottom.
+
+"There's the five-ten!" ejaculated Lane. "I pity Whittington when his
+dad finds how things have gone."
+
+"Percy isn't the only one who needs sympathy," said Spurling, soberly.
+"What about his father?"
+
+"I'm sorry for 'em both," was Lane's comment. "But the Whittington
+family'll have to handle its own troubles. Now, fellow-members, to the
+question before the house! Unless I raise at least two hundred dollars
+in the next three months, it's no college for me in September."
+
+A short silence followed. Spurling took out his knife and deliberately
+slithered a long, splintery shaving off the fence-top.
+
+"I've an idea," he said, slowly. "Give me till evening and I'll tell
+you about it. What d'you say to a last game of tennis?"
+
+The others agreed and slipped off the fence. Lane glanced up the road.
+
+"Here comes Whittington, scorching like a blue streak! And there's Bill
+Sanders's old auto crawling up May Street hill from the railroad
+station! If Percy should hit him--good-night!"
+
+The gray machine rapidly grew larger. The people on the sidewalks stood
+still and watched.
+
+May Street crossed Main at right angles, and a high cedar hedge before
+the corner house made it impossible for the two drivers to see each
+other until they were close together. On sped the gray car.
+
+"Isn't he humming!"
+
+Suddenly Whittington thrust out his left arm.
+
+"He's going to turn down May Street!" shouted Lane. "Bound to the
+station after his father. He'll hit Sanders, sure as fate! Hi! Hi there,
+Percy!"
+
+Heedless of the warning, Whittington whirled round into May Street and
+plunged full tilt into the hotel bus, striking it a glancing blow back
+of its front wheel. There was a tremendous crash.
+
+"Come on, fellows!" cried Lane.
+
+They ran at top speed toward the wreck. Through the clearing dust three
+figures were visible, extricating themselves from the ruins. Sanders,
+the hotel chauffeur, was groaning and rubbing his ankle. His only
+passenger, a bald, thick-set man, with smooth face and bulldog jaw, had
+a bleeding scratch down his right cheek and a badly torn coat.
+Whittington, apparently unharmed, was chalky and stuttering from
+fright.
+
+Spurling, for all his slowness, was the first to reach the wreck. He
+helped the stout stranger to his feet, and the man turned angrily toward
+Whittington. An exclamation of surprise burst from both.
+
+"Dad!"
+
+"Percy!"
+
+Understanding struggled with indignation on the older man's face.
+
+"Well," he growled, "so you've done it again!"
+
+For a moment the lad stood in shamefaced alarm, shaking from head to
+foot.
+
+"Are you much hurt, Dad?" he stammered.
+
+"Only a scratch," returned Whittington, senior. "But it's no thanks to
+you that I wasn't killed."
+
+He turned to Sanders, who was still chafing his ankle.
+
+"Anything broken?"
+
+"No, sir; only a sprain."
+
+"I'm glad it's no worse. Have this mess cleared away and I'll fix up
+with you later at the hotel; and get my suit-case over to my room, will
+you?"
+
+To his son he said:
+
+"We'll go to your dormitory."
+
+He limped grimly ahead; Percy followed. As he passed the three seniors
+he pulled a face of mock repentance. The boys resumed their way to the
+tennis-court.
+
+"Pretty poor stick, isn't he?" commented Lane, disgustedly. "Almost
+kills his father, and then laughs at it. Throws away in a few seconds
+more than enough to put the three of us half-way through our freshman
+year in college. No, I've no use for Whittington."
+
+"If he'd had to earn his own money," remarked Spurling, "he'd look on
+things differently. He's got a good streak in him."
+
+"Maybe so; but it'll take mighty hard work to bring it out. Well, here's
+the court. How'll we play?"
+
+In Whittington's room father and son silently removed the traces of the
+disaster. Then the father pointed to a chair.
+
+"Sit there! I've something to say to you."
+
+Percy took the indicated seat. Whittington, senior's, jaw stiffened.
+
+"Well!" he snapped. "Seems to me excuses are in order. You've smashed a
+thousand-dollar machine, ruined a five-hundred-dollar one, and just
+missed killing yourself and me in the bargain. Pretty afternoon's work,
+isn't it?"
+
+Percy looked injured, almost defiant.
+
+"You must know I'm mighty sorry to have dragged you into this scrape. I
+was half frightened to death when I thought you were hurt. But what odds
+does it make about the cars?"
+
+A twinkle appeared in his eye.
+
+"You've got the cash, Dad. Who'll spend it, if I don't?"
+
+Taking out his book, he began rolling a cigarette.
+
+"Stop that!" exclaimed his father, angrily, "and listen to me. It isn't
+the money I mind so much as it is the fool style in which you've thrown
+it away. Where's the thing going to end? That's what I want to know. If
+you'd only get mad when I talk to you, there'd be some hope for you. But
+you haven't backbone enough left to get mad. You've smoked it all away."
+
+"Oh, come now, Dad!"
+
+"You ask who'll spend the money. I know mighty well who won't, unless he
+strikes a new gait. There's plenty of colleges and hospitals to endow,
+and enough other ways of putting all I've got where it'll do some good.
+I've worked too hard and too long for my fortune to have a fool scatter
+it to the winds. You can come down to the hotel with me for supper.
+After that I'll foot the bills for your little excursion, and then go
+over alone to see Principal Blodgett. And let me say right now that
+it'll be a pretty important interview for you."
+
+Lane, Spurling, and Stevens, their tennis over, were starting for their
+boarding-house. Crossing the campus, they met Percy and his father. The
+former nodded soberly. Whittington, senior, a cross of court-plaster on
+his right cheek, passed them without a glance.
+
+"Percy doesn't look very happy," remarked Stevens, when they were at a
+safe distance.
+
+"Just a passing cloud," grinned Lane. "It takes more than a little thing
+like junking a thousand-dollar auto to bother Percy. He'll forget all
+about it before to-morrow."
+
+"See that dreadnought jaw on his father? If I was Percy I'd be kind of
+scary of that jaw. John P. Whittington isn't a man to stand much
+monkeying, or I miss my guess."
+
+"Well, we've got troubles of our own, and no dad with a fat
+bank-account to foot the bills. Why so still, Jim? Something on your
+mind, eh?"
+
+Jim's forehead was wrinkled.
+
+"Wait!" was all he deigned.
+
+Back in his room, after supper, he unbosomed himself: "A week ago I had
+a letter from Uncle Tom Sprowl. He lives in Stonington, on Deer Isle,
+east of Penobscot Bay; but most of the time he fishes and lobsters from
+Tarpaulin Island, ten miles south of Isle au Haut. Last month, just
+after he had started the season in good shape, he was taken down with
+rheumatism, and the doctor has ordered him to keep off the water for
+three months. Now that island is one of the best stands for fish and
+lobsters on the Maine coast. Somebody's going to use it this summer. Why
+shouldn't we? If we have reasonably good luck, we can clear up two
+hundred and fifty dollars apiece for the season's work. I've talked the
+thing over with Mr. Blodgett, and he thinks it's all right. Of course
+we'd be in for a lot of good hard work; but it's healthy, and we're all
+in first-class trim. We'd soon get hardened to it. Now, boys, it's up to
+you."
+
+Lane hesitated.
+
+"Do you think that two such farmers as Throppy and I could make much of
+a fist at fishing?"
+
+"Sure thing! I can show you how. I've fished since I was ten years old."
+
+"Where did you say the island is?" asked Stevens.
+
+"Right out in the Atlantic Ocean, a good twenty-five miles from the
+mainland. It's about a half-mile long and a quarter broad, partly
+covered with scrub evergreen, and has fifty acres of pasture. Uncle
+Tom's got some sheep there, too. He's afraid they'll be stolen; so he
+wants somebody there the earliest minute possible. He'll furnish all the
+gear and go halves with us on the season's catch. What do you say,
+Budge?"
+
+"I'm with you, if Throppy is."
+
+"It's a go," was Stevens's verdict.
+
+Somebody knocked on the door.
+
+"Come in!" called Spurling.
+
+To their great surprise, in came Mr. Whittington.
+
+Removing his Panama, he took the chair Spurling offered him. An
+unlighted cigar was gripped between his short, stubby fingers. There
+were dark circles under his steel-gray eyes, and his jaw had, if
+possible, more of a bulldog set than ever. His square, sturdy build,
+without fat or softness, suggested a freight locomotive with a driving
+power to go through anything. He was not a handsome man, but he was
+undeniably a strong one.
+
+He plunged at once into the purpose of his visit.
+
+"I guess you know I'm Whittington's father. I've just been over to
+Principal Blodgett's, having a talk about Percy. I don't need to tell
+you how he's spent his year here, so I'll come right to the point."
+
+He leaned forward and fastened his keen eyes on Spurling.
+
+"The principal says you plan to spend the summer fishing from an island
+on the Maine coast. I want Percy to go with you."
+
+The three exchanged glances of amazement. Lane swallowed a grin. Nobody
+spoke for a half-minute; then Spurling broke the silence.
+
+"I don't want to hurt your feelings, Mr. Whittington, but, honestly, the
+thing isn't possible. That island is ten miles from the nearest other
+land. We're not out for a pleasure junket, but for three months of the
+hardest kind of hard work. There'll be no automobiling, no pool or cards
+or moving pictures. It means being up at midnight, and not getting to
+bed until the fish have been taken care of. It means sore fingers and
+lame backs and aching joints. It means standing wind and cold and fog
+and rain until you're tired and wet and chilled to the bone. It's a
+dead-earnest business out there, one hundred days of it, and every day
+has got to count. A college year for the three of us hangs on this
+summer, and we can't risk having it spoiled. You'll have to think up
+some other place for Percy."
+
+Mr. Whittington's chin set a trifle more firmly. He pulled out his
+cigar-case and proffered it to each of the boys in turn.
+
+"Have a perfecto? No? Guess it's as well for you not to, after all. Wish
+Percy was taken that way. Excuse me if I light up. I can talk better."
+
+Soon he was smoking hard.
+
+"I want to have a little talk with you about my boy. Come, now, just
+between ourselves, what kind of a fellow is he? You probably know him
+better than I do. I've had my business; and he's been under tutors and
+away at school so long that I haven't seen much of him since his mother
+died, eight years ago."
+
+The boys glanced at one another and hesitated. Young Whittington was a
+hard topic to discuss before his father. The millionaire misunderstood
+their silence. His face grew gloomy.
+
+"Oh, well, if he's as bad as all that, no matter! I hoped he might have
+_some_ good points."
+
+"Don't misunderstand us, Mr. Whittington," said Spurling, quietly.
+"Percy isn't a bad fellow. He isn't dishonest. He doesn't cheat or crib.
+He's flunked honestly, and that counts for something. He's a good
+sprinter, and plays a rattling game of tennis, and he'd be a very fair
+baseball-player if he'd only let cigarettes alone. But he's soft and
+he's lazy. He's had too much money and taken things too easy. He's
+probably never earned a single cent or done a stroke of real work in his
+life. He's been in the habit of letting his pocketbook take the place of
+his brain and muscles; and he's got the idea that a check, if it's only
+large enough, can buy anything on earth. That's why he wouldn't be any
+good to himself or anybody else out on Tarpaulin Island. He'd simply be
+underfoot. It'd be cruel to take him there. Excuse me if I hurt your
+feelings. You've asked a straight question, and I've tried to give you a
+straight answer."
+
+The man chewed the butt of his cigar for a few seconds. Then he removed
+it from his mouth and blew a smoke-ring.
+
+"I don't believe," he said, reflectively, "that either of you three had
+any tougher time than I had when I was a boy. No school after fourteen.
+No college. Just work, work, work, and then some more work. But it
+hardened me up, made a man of me; perhaps it hardened me too much.
+Guess some of the men I've done business with have thought so. After I
+made my first million--"
+
+He broke off abruptly.
+
+"But let's get back to Percy. I've done everything in the world for that
+boy, and now I'm at the end of my rope. Tutors, private schools, summer
+camps, trainers, travel, automobiles--and what have they all amounted
+to?"
+
+He talked rapidly and nervously, emphasizing with his cigar.
+
+"It's no use to offer him any prize; he's had everything already. I
+found he was hitting too rapid a pace in the bigger schools, so I sent
+him down here. Thought he might do better in a quiet place. But his
+reports didn't show it, and the talk I've just had with the principal
+has pretty near discouraged me. I've bucked up against a good many tough
+propositions, but I'm free to say that he's the toughest. I don't see
+where he ever got that cigarette habit. I never smoked one in my life."
+
+Again he began puffing furiously.
+
+"He ought to have the stuff in him somewhere; and I believe a summer
+with you fellows'd bring it out. If it didn't, I don't know what would.
+Come, boys! Strain a point to oblige me! I'll pay you anything in
+reason. How large a check shall I write?"
+
+He reached for his inside pocket. Spurling flushed and held up his hand.
+
+"No, Mr. Whittington," said he, decidedly, "we can't do business that
+way. We're not running any reform school and we're not asking anybody to
+give us a cent. We're going out there to earn money for our first year
+in college, and we're going to take it out of the sea, every last
+copper! I don't say it to boast, but since I was ten I've had to shift
+for myself. I know where every cent in my pocket and every ounce of
+muscle on my body has come from. If Percy should go with us he'd have to
+take his medicine with the rest of us and pay his own way by working.
+Give us a little time alone to talk the matter over, and we'll soon tell
+you whether he can go or not."
+
+Whittington heaved his square bulk erect and crushed on his hat.
+
+"I'll be back in ten minutes."
+
+Almost to the second he was at the door again. Stepping inside, he
+awaited their verdict, not trying to conceal his anxiety. A great relief
+overspread his face at Spurling's first words.
+
+"All right, Mr. Whittington! Percy can come--on trial. He can stop with
+us a month. Then if we don't hitch together he'll have to leave. But if
+he likes it, and we like him, he can stay the rest of the summer. If the
+bunch earns anything over and above what it would have gotten if he
+hadn't been with us, he'll get it. If it doesn't, he won't."
+
+Five minutes later the millionaire entered Percy's room. The latter was
+smoking a cigarette and playing solitaire. He glanced up expectantly, a
+couple of cards in his hand. As he sat down opposite his son, John
+Whittington had never looked grimmer. The vein swelled blue on his
+flushed temples, and the lines on his face were deeply drawn.
+
+"Now, Percy, you and I are going to talk business. Put down those cards
+and chuck that coffin-nail into the stove. Why can't you use a man's
+smoke if you're going to smoke at all? I've been talking with Mr.
+Blodgett, and I find it's the same old story. You've wound up your
+preparatory course with a worse smash than you had this afternoon. You
+haven't made good. I'm beginning to doubt if you _can_ make good. You've
+done worse every year. You're nothing now, and if you keep on like this
+you'll soon be worse than nothing. You can put down one thing good and
+solid--I won't stand for your going the pace like Chauncey Pike or
+George Brimmer's son. I'd give half my money--yes, the whole of it, if
+you had the stuff in you that young Spurling has. I mean it."
+
+He stopped, then began again:
+
+"I'm going to give you one chance more, and only one. It's quicksilver,
+kill or cure, and a stiff dose at that. I've just been talking with
+Spurling and his two friends. They're to spend the summer fishing from
+an island off the Maine coast, to earn money to start their college
+course. And you're going with them!"
+
+"What! Me! I rather guess not! Nailed to the mast three months out on a
+rock like that? Not for a minute! Besides, I'm booked for Bar Harbor day
+after to-morrow. Got my ticket already."
+
+"Let's look at it!"
+
+Percy pulled out the slip of pasteboard and passed it over.
+
+His father thrust it into his pocket.
+
+"I can get the money on it. The agent'll take it back."
+
+"But I don't want him to take it back."
+
+"_I_ do."
+
+The bulldog jaws clamped together.
+
+"Oh, I say, Dad! Come, now! That isn't using me right!"
+
+"Isn't using you right? Why not? Don't be a fool, Percy! Whose money
+bought that ticket?"
+
+"Mi-- Why--er--yours, of course!"
+
+"Well, will you go to the island?"
+
+"No, I will not."
+
+"Then you don't get a cent more from me. You've overdrawn your
+bank-account already."
+
+"How do you know? You haven't been down to the bank."
+
+"You don't suppose I'd have a monthly check deposited to your account
+without arranging to know something about it, do you? Mighty poor
+business man if I did! Now, Percy, use what little brain you have!
+You've no money, and you can't earn any. Nobody would be fool enough to
+hire you. There's nothing on earth you can do. I'm going to give you one
+last chance to make a man of yourself. You've three months to make good
+in and I expect you to do it. You've got to make up those conditions and
+earn your salt to show there's some excuse for your being alive. Your
+whole life hangs on the way you spend the next hundred days. I start for
+the West Coast to-morrow, and won't be back till fall. I want you to
+write me--if you feel like it. Will you go?"
+
+The strains of a violin came floating in through the open window. The
+academy bell struck ten long, lingering strokes.
+
+"Well, what do you say? I'm waiting."
+
+Percy swallowed hard.
+
+"I'll go."
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+A FRESH START
+
+
+Two mornings later Percy Whittington was awakened in his room at the
+Thorndike in Rockland by a bell-boy hammering on his door.
+
+"What's the matter?" he inquired, stupidly.
+
+"Five o'clock! Five o'clock! Your call!"
+
+"Is that all?" exclaimed Percy, relieved. "I didn't know but the hotel
+might be on fire."
+
+He rolled over for another nap. Half an hour later he was roused by a
+lively tattoo beaten on the panels by two sets of vigorous knuckles.
+
+"Inside there, Whittington!" exhorted Lane's voice. "Wake up! This isn't
+any rest-cure. The Stonington boat starts in twenty minutes. You've lost
+your breakfast, and unless you hustle you'll make us miss the steamer.
+Better let us in to help you pack!"
+
+Percy bounded out of bed and admitted Lane and Spurling. While he
+dressed hastily they jammed his scattered belongings into two
+suit-cases. Stevens joined them in the hotel office and they made a
+lively spurt for Tillson's Wharf, reaching the _Governor Bodwell_ just
+before her plank was pulled aboard.
+
+The party had arrived in Rockland on the late train the night before,
+and were to start for Stonington early that morning. Percy's drowsiness
+had almost thwarted their plans.
+
+"You'll have to revise your sleeping schedule, Whittington, when we get
+to Tarpaulin," said Spurling.
+
+Percy was too much interested in the view opening before him to take
+offense at this remark.
+
+It was a calm, beautiful June morning. A gentle breeze barely rippled
+the smooth, blue water as the _Governor Bodwell_ headed eastward out of
+the harbor. Behind lay the city, fringed with lazily smoking lime-kilns,
+each contributing its quota to the dim haze that obscured the
+shore-line. Leaving on their left the little light on the tip of the
+long granite breakwater, and presently on their right the white tower on
+the hummock of Owl's Head, marking the entrance of rocky Muscle Ridge
+Channel, they were soon plowing across the blue floor of West Penobscot
+Bay. Due north, Rockport Harbor opened between wooded shores, while
+beyond it rose the Camden Hills, monarchs of the rolling line of
+mountains stretching up toward Belfast.
+
+A five-mile sail, and they were threading their way through narrow,
+winding Fox Island Thoroughfare, to the wharf at North Haven. Thence
+across East Penobscot Bay, by Deer Island Thoroughfare, to the granite
+wharf at Stonington, the rockiest town in the United States. Here they
+disembarked, and a short walk up a side-street brought them to the house
+of Spurling's uncle, Mr. Thomas Sprowl.
+
+Uncle Tom was at home, confined by his rheumatism and the doctor's
+orders. He greeted the boys gladly.
+
+"Got your letter last night, Jim," said he, "and I can tell you it took
+a weight off my mind. Since I've been sick I've nigh fretted myself to
+death about Tarpaulin."
+
+He groaned, and shifted himself painfully in his chair.
+
+"Those twinges take me unexpected," he explained. "You see," returning
+to his subject, "all my gear's on the island, besides those fifty sheep.
+Quite a risk for a man with so little as I've got. You don't know how
+pleased I am that you fellows are going to be on deck there this summer.
+You're a good, husky lot--at least most of ye." He scanned Percy a
+trifle dubiously. "You'll have a fine time the next three months, and
+you'll make some money. Wish I could go down with ye!"
+
+He winced and stifled another groan.
+
+"When do you plan to start?"
+
+"Just as soon as we can arrange for our boats and stores," replied Jim.
+
+"Good enough! You can be there to-night, slick as a whistle. Remember
+the _Barracouta_, that old power-sloop we've taken so many trips in?
+I've had her overhauled this spring and a new seven-and-a-half-horse
+engine put in her; her jibs and mainsail are in first-class shape.
+You'll find her at my mooring near the steamboat wharf. My Bucksport
+dory has just been pulled up on the ledges and painted. You'll need
+another boat besides, so I've arranged with Sammy Stinson to let you
+have his pea-pod. She'll do to lobster in. Now as to gear. You'll find
+over a hundred lobster-traps piled up on the sea-wall near my cabin, and
+there's six tubs of trawl in the fish-shed. Keep an account of whatever
+stuff you have to buy for repairs, and we can settle at the end of the
+season."
+
+"What's the best way of handling our catch?"
+
+"The fish you can split and salt and take over to Matinicus once a week.
+Your lobsters will sell easy to some smackman. Captain Ben Higgins comes
+east from Portland every week in the _Calista_; he's been in the habit
+of making Tarpaulin his next port of call after York Island. You'll find
+him square as a brick. Better buy your supplies at Matinicus; it's a
+strong twelve miles off, but that isn't a bad run in decent weather."
+
+The boys rose to go.
+
+"Well, Uncle Tom," said Jim, "the next time we see each other, I hope
+you'll be feeling fit as a fiddle."
+
+"You can't wish that any harder than I do, my boy. Oh, by the way, I
+nearly forgot one thing. Here, Nemo!"
+
+A fox-terrier, lying on a rug, sprang up alertly. He was white, except
+for two brown ears and a diamond of the same color on the top of his
+head.
+
+"Better take this dog along. The mate of a St. John coaster gave him to
+me last fall. I call him Captain Nemo. He's death on rats; and there's
+some on the island this year. Must have come ashore from a schooner
+wrecked there in the winter. Another thing! Got any gun?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then there's my ten-gauge." He indicated a double-barreled shot-gun
+standing in the corner. "You'll find a couple of boxes of loaded shells
+in that table drawer. You may want to kill some ducks in the fall. Only
+don't shoot Oso!"
+
+"Oso?"
+
+"Yes. My tame crow. I had a Spanish fellow with me a few weeks last
+summer, and he found the bird in a nest. Clipped one wing, so he
+couldn't get away from the island. Named him 'Oso'; said it meant 'The
+Bear.' He'll pester ye to death round the fish-house, after he gets
+acquainted."
+
+Putting Nemo on a leash and taking the gun, the boys filed out. Uncle
+Tom called Jim back.
+
+"I almost forgot to tell you to go to Parker's for your outfit. He'll
+use you right. Who's that pale-faced fellow with the tow head?"
+
+Spurling told him briefly about Percy. Uncle Tom grunted.
+
+"Needs salting, doesn't he? Well, he'll get it out there."
+
+Down in Parker's general store on the main street the boys purchased
+their supplies. They laid in a generous stock of provisions of all
+sorts, and under Jim's expert direction reinforced the weak spots in
+their wardrobes to adapt them to the demands of the next three months.
+Oil-clothes, heavy under-clothing, hip boots of red rubber, white,
+doughnut-shaped woolen "nippers" for pulling trawls, and various other
+articles for convenience and comfort were added to their outfits.
+
+Percy regarded it all in the light of a huge lark. Dressing himself in
+oilskins and rubber boots, he paraded up and down the store, much to the
+proprietor's disgust.
+
+"Pretty fresh, isn't he?" remarked Parker to Jim. "After he's been out
+in two or three storms he'll find those clothes aren't so much of a
+joke."
+
+The party's purchases were sent down to the steamboat wharf, to be added
+to the baggage already there. The boys followed, Percy swaggering
+superciliously along after the others, with his eternal cigarette.
+
+Captain Nemo, towing behind Spurling on his leash, got in Percy's way,
+and the boy stepped on his foot. Nemo yelped, then growled and bristled.
+
+"Get out, you cur!" exclaimed Percy, launching a kick at the beast.
+
+"Easy, Whittington!" warned Spurling. "A dog doesn't forget. You don't
+want to make an enemy of him at the start."
+
+"Enemy?" sneered Percy. "What do I care for that mangy cur! It'll teach
+him to keep out of my way."
+
+Jim bit his lip, but said nothing. In a few minutes they were on the
+wharf.
+
+A wiry, dark-complexioned lad of perhaps fifteen stood near the
+steamboat slip. He wore a faded suit of blue serge, a gray-flannel shirt
+with red necker-chief, and a soft black hat. His olive face and black
+eyes bespoke the Italian. Spurling and the others glanced at him
+casually; their interest was centered on assembling and loading their
+flotilla.
+
+"There's the _Barracouta!_" said Jim, pointing to a sloop moored a
+hundred yards away. "And there's Stinson's pea-pod tied to her stern.
+That yellow dory up on the ledge must be Uncle Tom's. He said we'd find
+her oars and fittings at Haskell's boatshop."
+
+Soon pea-pod and dory were being loaded beside the wharf. The young
+Italian had come to the string-piece, and was watching the embarkation.
+Jim saw that tears were trickling down his cheeks.
+
+"What's the matter?" he asked.
+
+The boy turned away, his breast heaving. Jim tossed the painter to Lane.
+
+"Look out for the boat a minute, Budge! I want to find what the trouble
+is with that young fellow."
+
+The lad had stepped across the wharf and was gazing sadly down into the
+water. Jim touched his shoulder.
+
+"Don't you feel well, son?"
+
+The kindly words had a surprising effect--the lad burst into tears. Jim
+tried to soothe him.
+
+"There, there! It can't be so bad as all that! Tell me about it."
+
+Little by little the boy's story came out. He was a Sicilian from a
+little village (_un villaggio_) not far from Messina. His name was
+Filippo Canamelli. His father was a mason (_un muratore_). Filippo and
+his older brother Frank had decided to seek their fortunes in America.
+Frank had gone over the year before, promising to send money back to pay
+for Filippo's passage. He had done so that winter, in _Febbrajo_.
+Filippo had sailed from Naples the next month, and had landed in New
+York in April. There he chanced upon a friend with whom his brother had
+left word for him to come to a certain address in Boston. But in that
+city he had lost all track of Frank. Searching aimlessly for him, he had
+drifted down to Stonington and had gone to work in the granite quarries.
+But he found the labor too hard and he was desperately homesick. He had
+given up his job the day before. What he should do and where he should
+go next he did not know. He talked rapidly between his sobs, while Jim
+listened.
+
+When he had finished, Spurling stepped across the wharf to his waiting
+friends. Very briefly he rehearsed the Italian's story.
+
+"Boys," he concluded, "what do you say to asking him to come down with
+us to Tarpaulin? I believe he's a clean, straight little fellow, and he
+can more than make up for his board by cooking and doing odd jobs. We
+can afford to pay him something to boot."
+
+Before either Budge or Throppy had a chance to express an opinion Percy
+spoke out decidedly:
+
+"Take that little Dago with us? I say no. You can't trust his kind. I
+know 'em. They're a thieving, treacherous lot, smooth to your face, but
+ready to stab you the minute your back's turned. I'll bet you a
+five-dollar bill he's got a knife hid somewhere about him. He might take
+a notion some night to cut all our throats."
+
+"Whittington," said Spurling, bluntly, "under the circumstances it might
+be better taste for you not to speak until you've heard from the rest of
+us. My throat's worth just as much to me as yours is to you, and I don't
+feel I'd be running any great risk by inviting that boy to come along
+with us."
+
+Lane and Stevens agreed.
+
+"It's three against one, Whittington," said Jim.
+
+He walked over to the Italian and said a few words to him. The lad's
+face lighted up with gratitude. Impulsively he bent and kissed
+Spurling's hand. Jim flushed with embarrassment as he and the stranger
+came back to the others.
+
+"He'll be glad to go with us, fellows. Now let's get a move on and
+hustle this stuff aboard. We want to be settled at Tarpaulin before
+dark."
+
+Soon all their goods were on the sloop. The dory was made fast to her
+stern and the pea-pod's painter tied to the dory. The expedition was
+ready to start. On board the _Barracouta_ Lane and Stevens, standing
+side by side, faced Jim and brought their palms to their foreheads.
+
+"Attention!" ordered Lane. "Spurling & Company! Salute!"
+
+Jim returned the compliment with a sweep of his hand. He threw on the
+switch and rocked the wheel; the engine started--click-click-click....
+Gathering headway, the _Barracouta_ nosed south, dory and pea-pod
+trailing behind her. Before them lay an archipelago of granite islands.
+
+"This is an old stamping-ground of mine," said Jim. "I've fished and
+lobstered round here so much that I know every rock and shoal for miles.
+That's Crotch Island on our west, with the derricks and quarries;
+they've taken no end of granite off it."
+
+He held up his hand.
+
+"Breezing up from the southwest. That'd be dead ahead if we went west of
+Isle au Haut as I'd planned. Guess we'll go east of it; then we can use
+our canvas to help us along. Steer for me, Budge, while I get sail on
+her!"
+
+Soon outer jib, jumbo and mainsail were set and trimmed close, and
+Spurling again took the helm. The _Barracouta_ ran southeast through
+Merchant's Row, a procession of rugged islets slipping by on either
+side; then south past Fog and York islands, with the long, high ridge of
+Isle au Haut walling the western horizon; down between Great Spoon and
+Little Spoon, past White Horse and Black Horse, toward the heaving blue
+of the open ocean.
+
+A grum, melancholy note came floating over the long sea
+swells--Oo-oo-oo-ooh! And again, Oo-oo-oo-ooh!
+
+"What's that!" exclaimed Percy.
+
+"Whistling buoy south of Roaring Bull Ledge. One of our nearest
+neighbors. We'll hear that voice pretty often, when the wind's from the
+north."
+
+They passed two miles east of the whistler, and gradually its warning
+blast grew fainter and fainter. On the horizon straight ahead a little
+black mound was slowly rising above the breaking waves. Jim swung his
+hand toward it.
+
+"There's Tarpaulin! Our home for the next three months! Looks kind of
+small and lonesome when you're running offshore for it; but it's pretty
+good to make after an all-day fishing-trip. What's the matter,
+Whittington?"
+
+Percy's face was somewhat white; for the last half-hour he had been
+strangely subdued.
+
+"I don't feel very good," said he.
+
+Spurling eyed him critically, then scanned the faces of the others. The
+_Barracouta_ was rising and falling on the long swells in a manner
+decidedly disconcerting to weak stomachs. Stevens and the young Italian
+did not look much happier than Percy. Jim could not help smiling a
+little.
+
+"Good seasick weather!" he observed, judicially. "Excuse me for
+laughing, boys! It's a mean thing to do, but I can't help it. I've been
+there myself--years ago. You'll be worse before you're better."
+
+They were, considerably, all three, Percy in particular. For the next
+hour conversation dragged; but all the while Tarpaulin loomed larger and
+larger. To Jim it wore the aspect of an old friend, and he dilated on
+its features for the benefit of the others.
+
+"You see that western end is fifty acres of pasture, sloping north;
+those gray dots are sheep grazing. The eastern half is just scrub
+evergreen. That little cove on the northeast corner's the Sly Hole; you
+mightn't think it, but a good-sized schooner can ride there at low tide.
+Pretty rocky all round. Always a surf breaking on one side or the other.
+Our landing-place is on the south."
+
+Before long the _Barracouta_ and her tow were skirting the eastern
+ledges. Under the island it was comparatively calm, and the seasick
+three felt better. Then, as they rounded a wooded promontory and turned
+west, it grew rough again, but only for a few minutes. Spurling steered
+the sloop into calm water behind the protecting elbow of another point,
+off which lay the half-submerged hulk of a wrecked vessel.
+
+"Sprawl's Cove!" exclaimed Jim. "How do you like the looks of your
+hotel, Whittington?"
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+TARPAULIN ISLAND
+
+
+Curiosity dispelled the last vestiges of Percy's seasickness. For a
+little while he gazed without speaking.
+
+A cove four hundred feet wide opened toward the south between two rocky
+points. At its head a pebbly beach sloped up to a sea-wall, behind which
+a growth of cattails bespoke a stagnant lagoon. Still farther back a
+steep bank of dirt rose to the overhanging sod of the pasture.
+
+From the western point a spur extended into the cove, forming a little
+haven amply large enough for a modest fleet of fishing-boats. Near by on
+the sea-wall stood two structures, one low, oblong, flat-roofed, with a
+rusty iron stovepipe projecting from its farther end; the other a small,
+paintless shed with a large door. Percy gave them only a casual glance.
+
+"You said we were going to live in a camp. Where is it?"
+
+Jim pointed to the first structure.
+
+"There! It's the cabin of an old vessel that came ashore here in a
+southerly gale years ago. Uncle Tom jacked it up a foot, put in a good
+floor, and made it into a first-rate camp. It's got bunks for half a
+dozen, and at a pinch could hold more. The roof's a bit leaky, but we'll
+soon fix that. There's a good stove, and always plenty of driftwood on
+the beach. It's a mighty snug place on a stormy day."
+
+Percy turned up his nose at this list of good points.
+
+"What's that pile of chicken-coops near it?"
+
+"Lobster-traps."
+
+"And that big box with its top just above water?"
+
+"A lobster-car. All that we catch in the traps we put in there until the
+smack comes."
+
+The mooring-buoy was now alongside. Making the _Barracouta_ fast, the
+boys went ashore in the dory and pea-pod. Percy became conscious that he
+was thirsty.
+
+"Where can I get a drink?"
+
+"There's the spring at the foot of that bank."
+
+Opening a trap-door in a rude wooden cover, Percy looked down into a
+shallow well. The only cup at hand was an empty tin can. Rather
+disdainfully he dipped it full and tasted, then spat with a wry face.
+
+"It's brackish!" he called out, indignantly. "I can't drink that."
+
+Spurling and the others were hard at work unloading the boats. Percy
+repeated his complaint:
+
+"I can't drink that stuff."
+
+Jim was staggering up the beach, a heavy box of groceries in his arms.
+
+"Sorry!" he replied, indifferently. "That's what all the rest of us'll
+have to drink. It isn't Poland water, but I've tasted worse."
+
+Percy slammed down the cover and tossed away the can in a huff. Lane
+was passing boxes and bundles ashore from the dory to Stevens and
+Filippo.
+
+"Catch hold here, Whittington, and help tote some of this stuff up to
+the cabin," exhorted Budge.
+
+Percy complied ungraciously; but he was careful not to tackle anything
+very heavy.
+
+"I didn't come out here to make a pack-mule of myself," was his mental
+remark.
+
+Jim unfastened the rusty padlock on the cabin door and stepped inside.
+Percy followed him, eager to get a glimpse of his new home.
+
+The camp had not been opened for some weeks; it smelled close and
+stuffy. As Percy crossed its threshold his nostrils were greeted by a
+mingled odor of salt, tarred rope, and decaying wood, flavored with a
+faint suggestion of fish. Mastering his repugnance, he looked about.
+
+He saw a single, low room, nine by fifteen, dimly lighted by three small
+windows, one in the farther end directly opposite the door, the
+remaining two facing each other in the middle of the long sides. Along
+the right wall on each side of the central window was built a tier of
+two bunks. On Percy's left, over a wooden sink in the corner near the
+door, was a rough cupboard. Next came a small, rusty stove with an oven
+for baking; then, under the window, an unpainted table; and on the wall
+beyond, a series of hooks from which were suspended various articles of
+clothing and coils of rope. Empty soap-boxes supplied the place of
+chairs.
+
+With nose uplifted and a growing disgust on his features, Percy surveyed
+the cramped, dingy room.
+
+"How do you like it?" asked Spurling.
+
+"You don't mean to say that five of us have got to live in this hole?"
+
+"Nowhere else, unless you want to stay out on the beach or in the
+fish-house."
+
+"But where do we sleep?"
+
+"There!" Jim gestured toward the wooden framework on the right wall.
+
+Percy thrust his hand into one of the bunks.
+
+"Why, there's no mattress or spring here! It's only a bare box!"
+
+"That's just what it is, Whittington! You've hit the nail on the head
+this time. You'll have to spread your blanket on the soft side of a pine
+board. If you want something real luxurious you can go into the woods
+and cut an armful of spruce boughs to strew under you."
+
+Percy disregarded this badinage. From his view-point the situation was
+too serious for jesting. It was outrageous that he, the son of John P.
+Whittington, should be expected to shift for himself like an ordinary
+fisherman.
+
+"I'm not used to living in a pigpen!" he snapped. "This cabin's too dark
+to be healthy; besides, it isn't clean."
+
+A spark of temper flashed in Spurling's eyes.
+
+"Stop right there, Whittington! This is my uncle Tom's cabin. Any place
+that's been shut up for weeks seems stuffy when it's first opened.
+You'll find that there are things a good deal worse than salt and tar
+and fish and a few cobwebs. I want to tell you a story I read some time
+ago. Once in the winter a party of Highlanders were out on a foray.
+Night overtook them beside a river in the mountains, and they prepared
+to camp in the open. Each drenched his plaid in the stream, rolled it
+round his body, and lay down to rest in the snow, knowing that the
+outside layers of cloth would soon freeze hard and form a sleeping-bag.
+In the party were an old chieftain and his grandson of eighteen. The boy
+wet his plaid like the others, but before he lay down he rolled up a
+snowball for a pillow. The old chief kicked it out from under the lad's
+head. He didn't propose to have his grandson be so effeminate as to
+indulge himself in the luxury of a pillow when everybody else was lying
+flat on the ground."
+
+Whittington grunted. "I don't see how that applies to me."
+
+"In this way. You've lived too soft. You need something to wake you up
+to the real hardships that men have to go through. Then you won't be so
+fussy over little things. Perhaps I've talked plainer to you than I
+should; but I believe in going after a fellow with a club before his
+face rather than a knife behind his back. Now let's open those windows
+so the fresh air can blow through, build a fire in the stove to dry out
+the damp, and get everything shipshape. After supper we'll go up on top
+of the island and take a look about."
+
+It was nearly seven when the sloop was finally unloaded and everything
+stowed under cover. Filippo had collected plenty of driftwood, and a
+fire crackling merrily in the rusty stove soon made the cabin dry and
+warm.
+
+Jim, in his shirt-sleeves, superintended the preparation of supper. The
+wall cupboard yielded a supply of ordinary dishes, cups, and saucers.
+There were old-fashioned iron knives and forks, iron spoons of
+different sizes, and thick, yellow, earthenware mugs. Despite Percy's
+slur, everything was clean.
+
+"Make us a pan of biscuit, Budge; and I'll fry some potatoes and broil
+the steak," volunteered Jim. "After to-night we'll have to break in
+somebody else to do the cooking. You and I'll be too busy outside."
+
+Percy heard and registered a silent vow that the cook should not be
+himself. Pricked by Spurling's earlier remarks, he had taken an active
+part in unloading the boats, and he had been glad to throw himself into
+one of the despised bunks to rest.
+
+At last supper was ready. The steak, potatoes, and hot biscuit diffused
+a pleasant aroma through the cabin.
+
+"Pull up your soap-boxes, all hands!" invited Spurling. "Don't be afraid
+of that steak! There's plenty of it for everybody. It's liable to be the
+last meat we'll have for some time. The butcher doesn't go by here very
+often."
+
+The boys made a hearty meal. Even Percy's fastidiousness did not prevent
+him from eating his full share. But he took no part in the jokes flying
+round the table. Jim's sermon had left him rather glum. Lane noticed it.
+
+"Why so distant, Whittington?" he inquired.
+
+Before Percy could open his mouth to reply a black body shot with a
+squawk through the open door and alighted on the corner of the table
+close to Percy's elbow.
+
+"Hullo! This must be Oso!" exclaimed Jim.
+
+The crow croaked hoarsely. On Percy's plate lay a single morsel of
+steak, the choicest of his helping, reserved till the last. Seeing the
+bird's beady black eyes fasten upon it he made a quick movement to
+impale it with his fork. But Oso was quicker still. Down darted his
+sharp beak and snatched the titbit from under the very points of the
+tines. A single gulp and the meat was gone.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A roar of laughter went round the table. Starting up furiously, Percy
+aimed a blow at the crow. But the bird eluded him and scaled out of the
+door with a triumphant screech. Budge proffered mock consolation.
+
+"Percy," said he, "that was the best piece in the whole steak. I saw you
+saving it until the last. Too bad, old man! Now you'll have to eat crow
+to get it."
+
+"I'll wring that thief's neck if I can catch him," vowed the angry
+Whittington.
+
+"Guess we can trust Oso not to leave his neck lying round where you can
+get hold of it," observed Lane. "Come on! Let's you and I wash the
+dishes!"
+
+"Dishes nothing!" snarled Percy.
+
+Stalking out, he gathered a handful of convenient pebbles and lay in
+wait for the culprit. But the crow had disappeared.
+
+"I'll get even with him later," muttered Whittington.
+
+He remained sulkily outside, taking no part in clearing away the
+supper-table. At half past seven the others joined him.
+
+"Feeling better, old man?" queried Lane, solicitously.
+
+"Fall in, Whittington," said Jim. "We're going on a tour of inspection."
+
+"Wait a minute," remarked Lane. "We've had our house-warming. The next
+thing is to christen the place."
+
+Dragging out a soap-box, he mounted it, produced from his pocket a piece
+of red chalk, and traced in large letters over the door, "CAMP
+SPURLING."
+
+"Now we're off!" said he. "Welcome to our city! Watch us grow!"
+
+"Come on!" urged Jim. "We want to look the island over before dark."
+
+The party walked west along the sea-wall and proceeded in single file up
+a steep path to the highest part of the promontory.
+
+"Brimstone Point," said Jim. "Best view on the island from here."
+
+He began pointing out its different features.
+
+"That little nubble almost west, sticking up so black against the
+sunset's Seal Island. Matinicus is right behind it. Up there on the
+horizon, just a trifle west of north, are the Camden Hills; you look
+exactly over Vinalhaven to see them. North across the pasture is Isle au
+Haut that we came by this afternoon. Beyond is Stonington. About time
+the lights were lit--Yes, there's Saddleback! See it twinkling west of
+Isle au Haut. Now look sharp a little south of west and you'll see
+Matinicus Rock glimmering; two lights, but they seem like one from here.
+Wouldn't think they were almost a hundred feet above water, would you?
+They look pretty good to a man when he's running in from outside on a
+dark night."
+
+It was a magnificent evening, the air clear as crystal, the sky without
+a cloud. Gulls were wheeling and screaming about the promontory, their
+cries mingling with the rote of surf at its base. Sheep bleated from the
+pasture. A hawk sailed slowly in from the ocean and disappeared in the
+woods behind the eastern point. From under the boys' feet rose the
+fragrance of sweet grass and pennyroyal. Tall mullein stalks reared
+their spires on the hillside; and here and there were little plats white
+with thick strawberry blossoms.
+
+The boys gazed their fill. Gradually the red sky darkened and the stars
+began to come out. Saddleback and Matinicus Rock gleamed more brightly.
+A cool breeze from the south sprang up. Jim roused himself.
+
+"Guess we won't have time to look about any more to-night. Never mind!
+There are evenings enough ahead of us before September. One thing out
+here--no matter how hot the day may be, it's always cool after dark.
+Let's be getting back to camp!"
+
+Two small kerosene-lamps from the cupboard made the cabin seem actually
+cheerful. Percy dug into one of his suit-cases and produced a pack of
+cards.
+
+"Let's have a game, fellows! What shall it be?"
+
+"Might as well put those up, Whittington," said Spurling. "We're going
+to turn in as soon as we get things arranged. We've a busy to-morrow
+before us."
+
+Somewhat disappointed, Percy put the cards back. Taking four wooden
+toothpicks, Jim broke them into uneven lengths. He grasped them in his
+right hand so that the tops formed a straight line.
+
+"Now we'll draw lots for bunks! Filippo's going to sleep in the hammock
+across that corner beyond the table, so he won't be in this. Longest
+stick is lower bunk next the door; second longest, lower bunk back;
+third, upper bunk near door; shortest, other upper. Draw, Throppy!"
+
+Stevens drew; then Budge and Percy followed him. They matched sticks.
+Percy got the lower near the door, with Budge over him; while Spurling
+drew the back lower, and Stevens the one above that.
+
+"Percy and I are the lucky ones," said Jim. "We can try this a month,
+then have a shake-up to give you top men a chance nearer the floor."
+
+Percy pulled out his wrappers and tobacco. Spurling nipped his
+preparations in the bud.
+
+"No cigarettes in here!"
+
+"Can't I smoke just one?"
+
+"Not inside this cabin. It's too close. We might as well make that a
+permanent rule."
+
+"All right! You're the doctor! But I thought it might help kill this
+smell of tarred rope."
+
+"I like the tarred rope better than I do the cigarettes."
+
+Percy went outside and burned his coffin-nail unsociably. When he came
+back the cabin was shipshape for the night. Jim was setting the
+alarm-clock. Percy, watching him, thought he detected a mistake.
+
+"You've got the V on the wrong side of the I," he said. "IV doesn't
+stand for six."
+
+"But I didn't mean six," retorted Spurling. "I meant four. Now you see
+why we haven't any time for card-playing. And as soon as we're really at
+work we'll be getting up a good deal earlier than that. Turn in,
+fellows!"
+
+He extinguished one of the small lamps.
+
+"You can put out the other one, when you're ready," said he as he crept
+into his bunk.
+
+Following the example of his associates, Percy draped his clothing over
+his soap-box and the lower end of his bunk, then blew out the lamp and
+turned in, barking his shins as he did so. He found his couch anything
+but comfortable. A single blanket between one's body and a board does
+not make the board much softer. Neither is a tightly rolled sweater an
+exact equivalent for a feather pillow. Further, the comforter over him
+was none too warm, as two windows, opened for ventilation, allowed the
+cool ocean breeze to circulate freely through the cabin. They also
+admitted numerous mosquitoes, which sung and stung industriously.
+
+The hours of darkness dragged on miserably. Percy dozed and woke, only
+to doze and wake again. An occasional creaking board or muttered
+exclamation told that, like himself, his mates were not finding their
+first night one of unalloyed comfort.
+
+Bare feet struck the floor. A match scraped, and Percy saw Jim gazing at
+the alarm-clock.
+
+"What time is it?" groaned Budge from above.
+
+"Only ten minutes to twelve."
+
+"Gee! I wish it was morning."
+
+"Me too!" complained Stevens from the darkness aloft.
+
+Percy echoed the wish, silently but fervently. And then in an instant
+all their discomfort was forgotten. Bursting through the open window, a
+sudden sound shattered the midnight stillness.
+
+_Spang!_
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+MIDNIGHT MARAUDERS
+
+
+There was no mistaking that sharp, whip-like report. It was the crack of
+a revolver!
+
+Breaking the silence at a time when they had felt certain that the
+nearest human being was miles away, the sound had a startling effect on
+the five boys. Not one but felt a thrill of apprehension, almost of
+dread. Who besides themselves was astir at so late an hour on that
+lonely island? Why? The weapon that produced the report must have been
+aimed at something. What? For a moment they remained silent, breathless.
+
+_Spang!_
+
+A second shot, distant but distinct, rang out from beyond the brow of
+the bank behind the cabin. Spurling sprang from his bunk.
+
+"Boys!" he shouted. "Somebody's after those sheep! Turn out!"
+
+Hurriedly he began dressing. The other four followed his example,
+fumbling with clumsy fingers in the darkness. Nemo gave a short, sharp
+bark.
+
+"Quiet, boy!" ordered Jim; and the dog subsided, growling.
+
+Percy experienced a peculiar shakiness; but he dressed with the others.
+Out here were no policemen or other officers to enforce the laws.
+Whatever was done they must do themselves.
+
+Jim, his first excitement over, was cool as usual.
+
+"All dressed, fellows?" he inquired, as calmly as if the pursuit of
+midnight thieves was a common incident.
+
+Everybody was ready.
+
+"Going to take the dog?" asked Throppy.
+
+"No! Leave him here! He might bark when we didn't want him to."
+
+"Here's the gun!" volunteered Lane.
+
+"Don't want it! If we had it with us, we might lose our heads and shoot
+somebody. Whoever they are, they haven't the least idea there's any one
+on the island besides themselves. They've probably landed at the Sly
+Hole from some vessel that's approached the north shore since it came
+dark. Hungry for a little lamb or mutton! But those sheep have stood
+Uncle Tom a good many dollars and he can't afford to lose any of 'em.
+Where's that flash-light?"
+
+"Here 'tis!" said Budge, passing him the electric lantern.
+
+Jim snapped it quickly on and off again.
+
+"Righto!" was his verdict. "All ready? Then come on! But first tie that
+dog to the stove-leg, so he won't bolt out the second we open the door."
+
+Throppy fastened Nemo.
+
+"Quiet now!" cautioned Jim.
+
+He opened the door carefully, and the five filed out into damp, cool,
+midnight air.
+
+Stars filled the sky. A gentle wind was blowing from the southwest.
+Nothing broke the stillness save the low murmur of the sea on the
+ledges. Without hesitation Jim led his party at a dog-trot eastward
+along the beach. When he reached the rocks he halted.
+
+"We'll go straight across to the Sly Hole," he said. "I know a short cut
+through the woods. Either they've killed a sheep already and are
+carrying it down to their boat or they've frightened the animals so that
+it'll take some time to get near enough to 'em again to shoot. What
+sticks me is why they don't use a shot-gun instead of a revolver. Now,
+boys! Right up over the rocks!"
+
+It was a rough climb, but soon they were on the top of the bluff.
+Unerringly Jim led them to the entrance of a narrow trail penetrating
+the scrubby growth.
+
+"Look out for your eyes! Don't follow too close!"
+
+The pliant, whipping branches emphasized his caution. By the time the
+party gained the north shore their hands and faces were badly scratched.
+
+The little basin of the Sly Hole lay below. Looking down, they could
+make out a dark object at the water's edge.
+
+"There's their boat!" whispered Jim. "They're still on the island."
+
+_Spang!_
+
+Another report from the pasture beyond the evergreens echoed emphatic
+confirmation to his statement. Jim took two steps toward the sound, then
+stopped.
+
+"Not yet! I know a better way. Stay here and keep watch."
+
+He scrambled down to the beach. There was a slight grating of gravel,
+and presently the boat was afloat. Noiselessly, under Spurling's skilful
+sculling, it slipped out of the cove and vanished behind the ledges to
+the east. Before long Jim was back with his companions.
+
+"I've made their dory fast in a little gulch among the rockweed," said
+he. "They'd have a hard time to find it unless somebody told 'em where
+it is. They can't get away without having a reckoning with us."
+
+_Spang-spang-spang!_
+
+Three reports in quick succession. Jim laughed.
+
+"Wasting a lot of cartridges! Must want that mutton pretty bad! Either
+they're awful poor shots or they've made the sheep so wild they can't
+get anywhere near 'em. There's their vessel!"
+
+The boys' eyes followed his pointing finger. Not far offshore were the
+vague outlines of a schooner.
+
+"All black!" said Jim. "Not a light of any sort! That looks bad. Besides
+being against the law, it shows there's some reason why they don't want
+to be recognized. I don't know what kind of scalawags we're up against,
+but we've got to be mighty careful."
+
+Percy felt a strange sinking at the pit of his stomach. To be plunged
+into an encounter with a gang of unknown ruffians on his first night
+offshore was more than he had bargained for. For a minute Jim stood
+thinking.
+
+"I'm almost sorry we didn't take that shot-gun!" he muttered. "No, I'm
+not, either! We might be tempted to use it, and that'd be worse than
+losing every sheep on the island. Hold on! I've got an idea."
+
+The boys gathered closely round him.
+
+"Listen!" he whispered. "Budge and I will go ahead through the woods to
+the pasture. You three follow close behind. If there's any shooting,
+throw yourselves flat. No use taking chances with such fellows as
+those!"
+
+Crouching low, sometimes actually creeping, the party, Jim and Lane in
+the lead, made their way under the close boughs toward the open.
+Suddenly Jim sank to the ground. Warned by his whisper, the others did
+the same.
+
+Footsteps were approaching. Then voices in heated argument reached their
+ears.
+
+"Aw, come on, Cap!" expostulated one unseen speaker. "What's the use
+chasin' round over this pasture all night? Here we've wasted an hour
+already. I've fired away all my cartridges, and we haven't nailed a
+single bleater. We've got 'em so wild we can't sneak up within half a
+mile of 'em. Let's quit it for a bad job, go aboard, and turn in!"
+
+"Cut it out, Dolph!" impatiently retorted another voice. "You've got a
+backbone like a rope! Guess if you were footing the grub bill aboard the
+_Silicon_ you wouldn't be so fussy about being broken of your beauty
+sleep. I've paid out all the good dollars for stores that I intend to on
+this trip. You know we've plenty of ice aboard, and a couple of these
+sheep'll furnish enough fresh meat to last us to the Bay of Fundy and
+back. That ought to hit you in a tender spot. You're always the first
+man down at the table and the last to leave it."
+
+"You needn't twit me on my appetite, Bart Brittler!" exclaimed the
+other, angrily. "If you weren't so stingy with the grub on board your
+old catamaran I wouldn't be hungry all the time. A man who makes as much
+money as you do, runnin' in--"
+
+"Stop right there! You know there's some things that were never to be
+mentioned."
+
+"What's the harm? There's nobody within miles!"
+
+"That may be. But we can't be too careful in our business. Now what
+about the sheep?"
+
+"I'll stop here half an hour longer. Then I'm goin' aboard."
+
+"Well, I'll tell you what we'll do. You hide in the edge of the woods,
+and I'll make a circuit and drive 'em down to you. Here, take these
+cartridges and my revolver! That'll give you two to work with. You'll
+have to shoot quick when they come."
+
+There was a sound of breaking branches. The boys flattened themselves on
+the carpet of needles as a man's body crashed toward them through the
+underbrush.
+
+"All right!" announced Dolph. "I've found a good place, close to a
+sheep-path. Now drive down your mutton, and I'll butcher it as it goes
+by. Will two be enough?"
+
+"Sure! And that's two more than I'm afraid you'll get, unless you shoot
+straighter than we've done so far to-night. It may be twenty minutes
+before they come, for I'm going to make a wide circle to the west, so as
+to get behind 'em."
+
+The captain's footsteps died hollowly away on the turf and Dolph settled
+himself comfortably in his chosen ambush, almost within reach of Jim's
+hand. Five minutes of silence passed. Jim was debating what he should
+do. Budge lay close to him, and not far back were Throppy, Percy, and
+Filippo, hardly daring to breathe. Circumstances had placed one of the
+marauders so nearly within their grasp that a sudden, well-planned
+attack could hardly fail to make him their prisoner. But there must be
+no bungling. A man with two loaded revolvers, and desperate from panic,
+would be a dangerous customer unless he were overpowered at once.
+
+It would not do to let too much time go by. Brittler would soon be
+returning, driving the sheep ahead of him; then they would have two
+lawless men to contend with, instead of one, unless they chose to be
+quiet and tamely allow the spoilers to make off with their booty.
+
+Jim came to his decision like the snapping of the jaws of a steel trap.
+
+Reaching back, he pressed Budge's hand, as a signal for him to be ready.
+Budge returned the pressure. Dolph stirred and drew a long breath. There
+was a moment of suspense. Overhead, a crow cawed harshly.
+
+Noiselessly Jim rose to his hands and knees and crept forward. The small
+twigs and needles, crackling under his weight, sounded in his ears like
+exploding fireworks. He stopped; went on again; stopped; went on again.
+How could Dolph fail to hear him coming? The distance was less than two
+yards, but to the crawling lad it seemed far longer.
+
+Now he was close behind the unconscious bandit. He straightened up,
+setting his right foot squarely on the ground. As he did so a little
+branch snapped. Dolph, startled, turned his head. Before he could lift
+a finger Jim was upon him like a panther.
+
+There was an indistinct cry of alarm.
+
+_Spang!_
+
+Off went a revolver, discharged at random, and the two were struggling
+in a confused heap under the low boughs.
+
+It was a short fight. A third figure launched itself into the melee.
+Though not nearly so strong as Jim, Budge alone would have been a good
+match for any average man, and the two of them together speedily
+vanquished Dolph. A firm hand was pressed over his mouth and he was
+relieved of his automatics. Finding that his captors were not disposed
+to injure him, he soon ceased his struggles.
+
+Silence again. One of the would-be plunderers and the weapons of both
+were in the boys' hands. What should they do next?
+
+"Hi! Hi! Scat, you brutes! Get a move on!"
+
+Brittler's voice shattered the midnight stillness as he came, driving
+the sheep before him. From their covert the boys could look across the
+pasture and see the black, leaping shapes fast drawing nearer. It was
+high time to prepare to meet their second foe.
+
+"Throppy, Whittington, Filippo! Come here! Quick!"
+
+They came, Percy in the rear, his knees shaking.
+
+"Budge, can the four of you handle this man if I let go?"
+
+"Easy!"
+
+"Keep his mouth shut till I tell you he can open it!"
+
+"All right!"
+
+Lane's hand replaced Jim's over Dolph's lips. The other three grasped
+him wherever they could find a chance. It would not have taken much to
+shake off Percy's trembling grip, but the prisoner was content to remain
+quiet.
+
+There was a patter of hoofs; the sheep were coming. Soon they were
+flitting by the ambush, shying off as their keen senses warned them of
+possible danger. Again they scattered toward the northwest end of the
+island. After them danced Brittler, roaring with anger.
+
+"What are you waiting for, you numskull?" he cried. "Why didn't you
+shoot? I heard you fire once some minutes ago, and thought you might
+have been aiming at a stray one. I had almost the whole flock bunched
+right before me. You couldn't get a better chance if you waited a week.
+Now I've got to waste another half-hour chasing 'em round again. What's
+the matter with you, anyway? Why don't you speak?"
+
+He was within five yards of the silent group under the spruces when
+Spurling's voice rang sharply out:
+
+"Halt there!"
+
+At the same instant he flashed the ray from his electric lantern
+straight into the captain's face.
+
+Brittler stopped short, as if struck by lightning. His jaw dropped, and
+a ludicrous look of alarm and bewilderment overspread his features.
+
+"Take your hand off his mouth, Budge," ordered Jim, "and let him tell
+the captain what's happened."
+
+Thus adjured, Dolph spoke:
+
+"I've been taken prisoner, Captain. They jumped on me in the dark and I
+had a chance to fire only one shot. I think there's at least half a
+dozen of 'em, and they've got both our revolvers, so we haven't a
+chance. That's all there is to it."
+
+Brittler had recovered from his first panic. He bristled up with
+pretended indignation.
+
+"What do you mean, whoever you are, by jumping on us this way? And take
+that light off my face! I don't like it."
+
+Spurting did not remove the steady ray from the features of the irate
+captain. He waited a moment before replying.
+
+"Captain Brittler," he said, "you and Dolph came to steal sheep, and it
+isn't your fault that you haven't been able to do it. You thought there
+was nobody on this island and that you could kill and take to suit
+yourselves. You've been caught red-handed. By good rights you ought to
+be turned over to the sheriff. We'll let you go this time, but if we
+catch you here on such an errand again you'll have a chance to tell your
+story before a jury."
+
+"How'd you come to know my name?" blustered the captain. "I s'pose
+you've been pumping that mealy-mouthed landlubber of a Dolph."
+
+"Dolph hasn't said a word till he spoke to you just now. He couldn't. I
+guess we understand each other, so you and he had better start for the
+_Silicon_. You'll find your dory in the rockweed about fifty feet east
+of the cove. I'll keep your revolvers a few days, and then mail them to
+you at the Rockland post-office. You can get 'em there. Better go now!
+Turn that man loose, Budge!"
+
+Muttering vengeance, Dolph and the captain disappeared in the direction
+of the Sly Hole. After giving them ample time to find the dory, the boys
+quietly made their way to the north shore.
+
+A boat with two men was visible, rowing out to the _Silicon_. As soon as
+it reached its destination the schooner got under way and proceeded
+eastward.
+
+"I don't like the looks of that craft," said Spurling. "There's
+something suspicious about her. Did you hear what Dolph said to the
+captain about making money? They're engaged in some kind of smuggling,
+or I'll eat my hat! But what it can be I haven't any idea. Well, we're
+lucky to be rid of 'em so easily. Guess they'll give Tarpaulin Island a
+wide berth after this. And it's dollars to doughnuts the captain never
+inquires after those revolvers at the Rockland office. I didn't feel it
+was quite safe to give 'em back to him just now, but I didn't want to
+take 'em away for good. He can do as he pleases about sending for 'em."
+
+He yawned.
+
+"It's past one, and we'd better be getting back to camp, or we won't be
+in condition for our busy day to-morrow. Come on, boys!"
+
+Slowly, and a trifle weariedly, the five made their way across the
+island. Even though the fire in the stove had gone out long since, the
+warmth of the cabin felt good to them.
+
+"Well, Whittington," remarked Spurling as they once more crept into
+their bunks, "how do you like your first night on Tarpaulin? Some life
+out here, after all, eh?"
+
+Percy had recovered his assurance. Now that the experience was over he
+rather enjoyed it.
+
+"Not so bad," he replied.
+
+Before he went to sleep he lay for some time thinking.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+GETTING READY
+
+
+A persistent metallic whirring broke rudely in upon the dreams of the
+heavy sleepers in Camp Spurling. It was four o'clock. It seemed to Percy
+as if he had never before found so much trouble in getting his eyes
+open.
+
+"Choke that clock off, somebody!" shouted Lane from overhead. "I'm not
+deaf, but I shall be if this hullabaloo keeps on much longer."
+
+Spurling, who was already half-dressed, checked the alarm. The red rays
+of the morning sun, striking through the eastern window, bathed
+everything in crimson. The minds of the boys turned naturally to the
+foiled thieves.
+
+"Where do you think the _Silicon_ is?" asked Throppy.
+
+"Twenty-five miles east, and making for Fundy as fast as sail and
+gasolene'll take her," replied Jim. "She can't go any too far or fast
+to suit me."
+
+A hearty breakfast of fried bacon, hot biscuits, and coffee made the
+drowsy crowd feel better.
+
+"Now," said Spurling, "we've got a big day's work ahead of us, and the
+sooner we start on it the better. We want to begin as quick as we can to
+round up some of those dollars that are finning and crawling in to us,
+so we mustn't waste any time in getting our trawls and traps overboard.
+First of all, we need bait. We can buy hake heads for our lobster-traps
+from the fish-wharf at Matinicus, and herring for the trawls from one of
+the weirs at Vinalhaven. That means traveling over forty miles; but it's
+fine weather, and we ought to do it easily. Besides, it'll give you
+fellows a good chance to learn how to handle a power-sloop. We'll take
+the trawls with us, and bait 'em on the way back, so as not to lose any
+time; and we'll set most of those lobster-traps this afternoon."
+
+They all went over to the fish-house, and Jim swung the door wide open.
+Five great hogsheads inside caught Percy's eye.
+
+"What're those for?" he asked.
+
+"Holding fish. Each one'll take care of what two thousand pounds of
+round fish'll make after they're dressed and salted."
+
+"What do you mean by round fish?"
+
+"Just as they come out of the water, before they're cleaned."
+
+"What're those half-barrels, full of small rope?"
+
+"Trawl-tubs; and those coils inside are the trawls. Each tub holds about
+five hundred fathoms of ground-line, with a thirty-eight-inch ganging,
+or short line with a hook on its end, tied every five feet; so there're
+between five hundred and six hundred hooks to every tub. One man alone
+can bait and handle four tubs of trawl. Two of us are going to fish
+together, so we ought to be able to swing six tubs without any trouble."
+
+Percy looked about the house. Other barrels stood there; a net was
+draped over the beams; many coils of small rope were hung along the
+walls or piled on the floor. His attention was attracted by a large heap
+of peculiarly shaped pieces of wood. Each was eighteen inches long, five
+inches square at one end, and tapered almost to a point at the other,
+near which a hole was bored; they were painted white, encircled by a
+single green stripe, and bore the brand "SP."
+
+"Cedar lobster-buoys," said Jim. "SP's my Uncle Tom's brand. Every man
+has a different kind, so his floats won't get mixed with anybody else's.
+Now let's take these tubs of trawl aboard the sloop."
+
+At six the _Barracouta_, carrying the five boys and towing the dory,
+started from Sprowl's Cove for Matinicus. It was so calm that the sails
+were of little assistance, and they had to depend almost entirely on the
+engine. Rounding Brimstone Point, they headed slightly north of west for
+Seal Island, about six miles away.
+
+Everybody took his turn at steering, Jim acting as instructor.
+
+"Any one of you may be called on to handle this boat alone some time in
+the next three months, and you can't begin learning how any too early."
+
+Percy's experience with automobiles stood him in good stead. He was
+naturally interested in machinery, and soon mastered the details of the
+_Barracouta's_ engine. The others also showed themselves apt pupils.
+
+At half past seven the high cliffs of Seal Island lay to the north.
+Passing for a mile along its rocky shores, they kept on toward
+Matinicus, now rising into view. Jim pointed to a breaker a little south
+of their course.
+
+"Malcolm's Ledges! A bad bunch of rocks. Years ago a fishing-schooner
+struck there in the night. Crew thought at first they'd reached safety,
+but they soon found it was only a half-tide ledge. The vessel heaved
+over it when the water rose, and sunk, so that only her topmast stuck
+out. One man, the sole survivor, hung to that. He was taken off in the
+morning, but his arm was worn almost to the bone by the swaying of the
+mast."
+
+Farther on they passed the long, treeless, granite hump of Wooden Ball,
+with its few lobstering-shacks, and sheep grazing in its grassy valleys.
+Ledge after ledge went by, until at last they entered the little rocky
+haven of Matinicus, crammed with moored sloops and power-boats, and ran
+in beside the high, granite fish-pier at its head.
+
+Percy found everything new and strange--the stilted wharves on the
+ledges, heaped with lobster-traps and festooned with buoys of all shapes
+and colors; the fish-pier with its open shed, sheltering the dark,
+discolored hogsheads rounded up with salted fish; the men in oilskin
+"petticoats," busy with splitting-knives on hake and cod and pollock and
+haddock, brought in by the noisy power-boats; the lighthouse-keepers
+from Matinicus Rock, five miles south, in military caps, oilskins, and
+red rubber boots, towing a dory to be dumped full of slimy hake heads
+for lobster bait; the post-office and general store above the cove, and
+the spruce-crowned rocks beyond it.
+
+[Illustration: THE CAMP AT SPROWL'S COVE]
+
+Jim pointed out a bronze tablet on a slanting ledge.
+
+"In memory of Ebenezer Hall, first English settler on Matinicus. He
+lived with his family in a log house at the head of this cove. In 1757
+some Indians were camped on one of the Green Islands, six miles or so
+northwest, living on the eggs of seabirds. Hall went over to the island
+one day and set fire to the grass, destroying the nests and eggs. Next
+morning five Indians in two canoes came over to Matinicus to take
+revenge. They landed on this beach, built a fire, and began cooking
+their breakfast. Hall had barricaded himself indoors, but he could put
+his head up through a little lookout in the top of his cabin. He wanted
+to shoot the Indians, but his wife wouldn't let him. After they had
+eaten they scattered and opened fire on the house from different points.
+Hall replied. Finally the Indians were reduced to their last
+half-bullet. One of them lay flat in that little hollow, while the
+others pretended to launch their canoes. Hall stuck his head up through
+the lookout to see what was going on, and the ambushed Indian sent the
+half-bullet through his brain. He dropped back inside. They wouldn't
+have known he was hit if his wife hadn't cried out for quarter. They
+burst open the door and carried her off, with her daughter and one son.
+Another boy escaped out of a back window and hid in the swamp, and they
+couldn't find him. Afterward he settled on an island close to
+Vinalhaven, where Heron's Neck Light is now."
+
+"Hall had better not have burned that grass," said Percy.
+
+"Yes," replied Jim. "If he had minded his own business and let the
+Indians alone he wouldn't have stopped that last half-bullet."
+
+The fish-pier was in charge of a superintendent, employed by a large
+Gloucester concern. Jim arranged to sell here whatever fish they might
+catch during the summer. He also bought several bushels of salt, as well
+as two barrels of hake heads to start them in lobstering. The
+_Barracouta's_ tank was filled with twenty-five gallons of gasolene, and
+six five-gallon cans were purchased besides. The boat would require
+about seven gallons a day for ordinary fishing, so this would supply
+them for more than a week.
+
+"How often do you get the mail?" asked Jim of the storekeeper, who was
+also postmaster.
+
+"Three times a week by steamer from Rockland--Tuesdays, Thursdays, and
+Fridays."
+
+As Spurling had decided to bring his fish over every Friday, they would
+thus be enabled to keep in fairly close touch with the outside world.
+Percy, however, was somewhat disgusted. He had gotten into the habit of
+thinking he could not live without a daily paper. While the others were
+purchasing various supplies, including some mosquito netting, he
+replenished his stock of cigarettes.
+
+"Anybody here got a wireless?" inquired Throppy.
+
+"No, but there's one on Criehaven, three miles south."
+
+Throppy had planned to install an outfit on Tarpaulin, and had already
+written home to have his plant there dismantled by his brother, and its
+parts forwarded by express to Matinicus. For an amateur he was an
+expert operator.
+
+The _Barracouta_ was already well loaded when, with the dory towing
+behind, she rounded the granite breakwater and started for Vinalhaven,
+twelve miles away. At noon they ran in alongside Hardy's weir on the
+eastern shore of the island. Several bushels of glittering herring were
+dipped aboard, and the heavily freighted sloop at once swung away on her
+fifteen-mile jaunt to Tarpaulin.
+
+"Now," said Jim, as soon as they were well clear of the island, "I'll
+teach you how to bait up. Take the tiller, Filippo."
+
+Emptying out the ground-line from one of the tubs, he took a small
+herring in his left hand, and with his right grasped the shank of the
+hook on the first ganging; he forced the sharp point into the fish until
+the barb had gone clean through and the herring was impaled firmly. Then
+he dropped the hook into the empty tub, giving the ganging a deft swing,
+so that it fell in a smooth coil. He repeated the process swiftly, while
+the others watched him with interest.
+
+"How many hooks can you bait in a minute?" asked Budge.
+
+"Time me."
+
+Budge followed the second-hand of his watch while the coil in the tub
+grew larger.
+
+"Better than ten a minute," he announced. "That's going some."
+
+"It's slow to what some fishermen can do. It means about an hour to a
+tub. Catch hold, you fellows, and see how fast you can do it. Might as
+well make a beginning. You'll have plenty of experience before the
+summer's ended. I'll take her awhile, Filippo."
+
+The other boys, Percy included, were soon hard at work, each on his own
+tub. At first they made a slow, awkward business of it. Impatient
+exclamations rose as the sharp hooks were stuck into clumsy fingers.
+Finally Percy threw down his trawl in a fit of anger.
+
+"I've had enough of this! I didn't come out here to butcher myself."
+
+"You can steer," said Jim, quietly. "I'll take your place."
+
+Percy stepped to the helm, and Jim began baiting again. The others stuck
+to their unfamiliar task, despite its discouragements, and were soon
+making fair headway. Percy eyed them sulkily. His pricked fingers
+smarted. The boat rolled and pitched on the old swell, making him a
+trifle seasick. A wave of disgust swept over him. This was no place for
+the son of a millionaire. He wished himself back on the land.
+
+By the time they reached Tarpaulin, at about half past four, all the six
+trawls were baited.
+
+"We won't set them till day after to-morrow," determined Jim. "Guess we
+can find enough work to keep us busy ashore till then."
+
+There was no doubt about that. Until supper-time various odd jobs kept
+everybody occupied. Most important of all, the mosquito netting was cut
+and tacked over the three windows.
+
+"Now we can have plenty of fresh air with the mosquitoes strained out of
+it," said Jim.
+
+Boughs of spruce and fir were brought from the woods and strewn in the
+bunks under the blankets. That night the boys turned in early and slept
+like the dead. Even Percy could find little fault with his pillow and
+mattress of fragrant needles.
+
+In the morning he took a swim. The water was too cold for comfort, and
+inadvertently he ran into a school of jellyfish, from which he emerged
+feeling as if he were on fire all over. He dressed hurriedly, shivering
+and disgruntled. The novelty of Tarpaulin was wearing off, and he hoped
+heartily that he would soon be in a more interesting place. A month
+there would drag horribly.
+
+That forenoon the inside of the cabin was put to rights. The spring was
+cleaned out and stoned up. Under Jim's direction the boys gathered a
+heap of driftwood and dragged it up to the highest part of Brimstone
+Point. There a beacon was built, and kindling placed beneath it.
+
+"That'll serve as a lighthouse in case any of us get caught out at night
+and lose our way," said Jim.
+
+The remainder of the morning was spent in fitting up the lobster-traps
+with warps, toggles, and buoys.
+
+During dinner the summer's work was discussed and the boys were allotted
+their respective duties. To Jim fell naturally the oversight of the
+fishing and lobstering. Lane was to receive and disburse all moneys, and
+have general charge of the business matters of the concern. Throppy,
+because of his mechanical and inventive turn of mind, was intrusted with
+the duty of seeing that the cabin, the boats, and all the gear were kept
+in first-class shape.
+
+"Now," concluded Jim, "so far the most important position of all has
+gone begging. Who'll be cook? Whittington, it lies between you and
+Filippo."
+
+"You can strike my name from the ballot at the go-off," stated Percy,
+promptly. "I never even boiled an egg in my life, and I don't intend to
+begin now."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"That narrows it down to Filippo," said Jim. "What do you say? Will you
+cook for us?"
+
+The Italian's melancholy olive face lighted up with pleasure.
+
+"_Si, si!_" he exclaimed, gladly. "I will cook."
+
+"Good enough! You're elected, then! We'll all tell you everything we
+know. Here's an old cook-book on the shelf, and well teach you the
+recipes. That leaves Whittington for general-utility man. He'll be our
+hewer of wood and drawer of water, to say nothing of washing the dishes.
+We'll all feel free to call on him whenever any of us gets into a tight
+place. How does that hit you, Whittington?"
+
+"Never touched me! I'm no servant."
+
+"What will you do, then?" inquired Jim, pointedly.
+
+"Just what I please, and not a thing besides," replied Percy, with equal
+directness.
+
+The others exchanged looks, but Jim said no more.
+
+The greater part of the afternoon was devoted to setting the
+lobster-traps. They were loaded on the sloop, dory, and pea-pod, taken
+out, and dropped overboard around the island, brown bottles, of which
+there was a generous supply in the shed, being fastened to the warps for
+"toggles," to hold them off the bottom, so that they might not catch on
+the rocks. By five all the traps were set.
+
+"You and Throppy can pull these to-morrow morning, Budge," said Jim, and
+he gave them brief directions. "I'll make a trip with you myself the
+next day. But to-morrow Whittington and I are going to see what we can
+get on the trawl."
+
+After an early supper they climbed the eastern point. The sheep, which
+were feeding on its top, scampered off at their approach, their retreat
+covered by the ram, with shaking head. Nemo rushed, barking, after the
+flock, only to be butted ignominiously head over heels and to retreat,
+yelping, to the beach.
+
+"Bully for Aries!" laughed Throppy.
+
+"Who's Aries?" asked Percy.
+
+"The ram, of course! Where's your Latin?"
+
+"Never heard the word. Where do these sheep drink, anyway? Out of the
+spring?"
+
+"No," replied Jim. "The dew on the grass gives them all the moisture
+they need."
+
+Sandpeeps were teetering along the ledges below. Two seals bobbed their
+round, black heads in the surf at the promontory's foot. A mile to the
+south rose the spout of a whale.
+
+"Many craft go by here?" inquired Budge.
+
+"Plenty. Fishing-schooners, tugs with their tows, yachts, tramp
+steamers, sailing-vessels from the Bay of Fundy for Boston, and every
+little while a smack or power-boat. The ocean liners to Portland pass
+about fifteen miles south. So we oughtn't to be lonesome."
+
+On the highest part of the point Throppy found a dead spruce about
+twenty feet tall, which he picked as a mast for his wireless. Its top
+would be at least sixty feet above the cabin, so he could talk over
+twenty-five miles. He had brought with him four hundred feet of copper
+bell-wire and a dozen or so cleat insulators. He cut two spruce
+spreaders, and strung his antennae. Then he made a hole through the cabin
+wall, improvised an insulator out of a broken bottle, and a rough table
+out of a spare box, and was ready to install his batteries and
+instruments as soon as they should arrive.
+
+The boys returned to the cabin.
+
+"How about those conditions, Whittington?" asked Budge. "Going to begin
+making 'em up?"
+
+"No hurry about that," responded Percy, indifferently.
+
+He went outside to smoke a cigarette. The bull-frogs were singing in the
+marsh. Inside, Roger was making a start on teaching Filippo English,
+and learning a little Italian in return. Throppy was tuning his violin.
+He played a short selection, and then the boys turned in.
+
+"To-morrow we start fishing in dead earnest," said Jim. "Whittington and
+I'll get up at midnight, and Filippo'll have to give us breakfast. You
+other fellows won't need to turn out till four. Here's hoping for good
+luck all round!"
+
+Percy made a wry face. The hour for rising did not sound good to him,
+but there was no harm in trying it once. After that he would see. Soon
+all were sound asleep, lulled by the murmur of the surf.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+TRAWLING FOR HAKE
+
+
+"Turn out, Whittington! All aboard for the fishing-grounds!"
+
+Spurling's voice, reinforcing the last echoes of the alarm-clock,
+dispelled Percy's inclination to roll over for another nap. Jim's strong
+tones carried a suggestion of authority which the younger lad was half
+minded to resent. He swallowed his pride, however, rolled out, and
+dressed. It was only a half-hour after midnight when he sat down with
+Jim to a breakfast of warmed-over beans, corn-bread, and coffee,
+prepared by Filippo. Budge and Throppy were sleeping soundly. They would
+not get up until three hours later. Percy envied them, but he ate a good
+meal.
+
+"Now," directed Jim, "pull on those rubber boots and get into your
+oil-clothes. You'll see before long why they're useful. Trawling's a
+cold, wet, dirty business, and you want to be well prepared for it. And
+don't forget those nippers! They'll protect your hands from the chafe of
+the line."
+
+Taking buoys, anchors, and other gear from the fish-house, they got into
+the dory and rowed out to the _Barracouta_. The six tubs of trawl,
+baited two afternoons before, were already on board. They stowed
+everything in its place, then headed out of the cove, towing the dory.
+
+It was a clear, cool night. A light wind was blowing from the north, but
+the sea was fairly smooth.
+
+"Guess we'll run down to Clay Bank," said Spurling. "It's only six miles
+to the southward. We ought to get a good set there."
+
+Steadily they plowed on. It was Percy's first experience in a small boat
+on the midnight ocean, and he felt something akin to awe as they
+breasted the long swells, heaving in slowly and gently, yet
+resistlessly. Down to the horizon all around arched the deep blue
+firmament, spangled with stars. Matinicus Rock glittered in the west,
+while just beyond the shoulder of Brimstone Point, Saddleback Light,
+almost level with the sea, kept vanishing and reappearing.
+
+As the _Barracouta_ forged forward her prow started two diverging lines
+of phosphorescent bubbles and her wake resembled a trail of boiling
+flame. Percy called Jim's attention to the display.
+
+"Yes," remarked the latter, "the water's firing in good shape to-night."
+
+There was a sudden splash to starboard. A gleaming body several feet
+long rolled up above the surface; a grunting sigh broke the silence; and
+the apparition disappeared.
+
+"What's that?" demanded the startled Percy.
+
+"Porpoise! 'Puffing pig.'"
+
+For over an hour Jim held the sloop to an exact course by means of his
+compass. At half past two he stopped the engine.
+
+"Well, I guess we're here!"
+
+"We're here, fast enough!" assented Percy, staring about. "But where's
+here? Doesn't look any different to me from anywhere else."
+
+"Clay Bank."
+
+With his sounding-lead Jim tried the depth of the water.
+
+"Thought so! Fifty fathoms!"
+
+He prepared at once to set the trawl. Dropping the outer jib and
+mainsail, he jogged slowly before the wind under the jumbo, or inner
+jib.
+
+"Now let her go!"
+
+Over splashed the buoy, an empty pickle-keg, painted red, and drifted
+astern. Next, down went the light anchor. As soon as it reached bottom
+Jim lifted the first tub of trawl to the wash-board. Then with the
+heaving-stick, eighteen inches long and whittled to a point, he began to
+flirt overboard the coils lying in the tub.
+
+Percy, holding the lantern, watched the steady stream of gangings and
+herring-baited hooks follow one another over the side and sink astern.
+In a surprisingly short time the tub was empty, and the five hundred
+fathoms of trawl, with more than a hook to a fathom, lay in a long,
+straight line on the muddy bottom, three hundred feet below.
+
+A second tub trailed after the first, its trawl being attached to the
+end of the other. The four remaining tubs followed in order. At the
+junction of the second and third a buoy was fastened, and another
+between the fourth and fifth. To the end of the trawl from the sixth and
+last tub was tied another anchor, and as soon as it had reached bottom
+the last buoy was cast over. They had set almost three and a half miles
+of trawl, bearing more than thirty-one hundred short, baited lines.
+
+"And there's a good job done!" exclaimed Jim, as the last buoy floated
+astern. "Here's to a ten-pound hake on every hook!"
+
+"Do you often catch as many as that?" inquired Percy, innocently.
+
+Jim laughed.
+
+"Hardly! We'll be more than lucky if we get a tenth of that number."
+
+Day was now breaking. The night wind had died out and, save for the
+long, oily swells, the sea was absolutely calm. Jim started the engine
+and swung the _Barracouta_ round, and they ran leisurely back to the
+other end of the trawl, meanwhile eating the lunch Filippo had put up
+for them. Soon they were close to the first red buoy.
+
+"Now for business!" said Jim.
+
+He stepped into the dory.
+
+"Guess you know enough about automobiles, Whittington, to handle this
+engine. Keep the sloop close by and watch me haul. You can take your
+turn when I get tired."
+
+Gaffing the buoy aboard, he pulled up the anchor, and soon was hauling
+in the trawl over the wooden roller on the starboard bow. Percy watched
+with all his eyes. This was real fishing.
+
+As the line came in Jim coiled it smoothly down into an empty tub on a
+stand in the bow. The first three hooks were skinned clean.
+
+"Something down there, at any rate," he commented.
+
+The trawl sagged heavily.
+
+"First fish, and a good-sized one! Pretty logy, though! Feels like a
+hake!"
+
+Percy stared down into the blackish-green water. Out of its gloomy
+depths rose an indistinct shadow, gradually assuming definite shape. A
+blunt, lumpy head with big, staring eyes broke the surface; two long
+streamers hung from beneath the lower jaw.
+
+Jim reached for his gaff.
+
+"Hake! And a good one, too!"
+
+Striking the sharp iron hook through the fish's gills, he lifted the
+slimy gray body over the gunwale, unhooked it, and slung it,
+floundering, over the kid-board into the empty space amidships.
+
+"Fifteen-pounder! Wish we could get a hundred more like him! Hullo!
+Who's next?"
+
+The newcomer had a huge reddish-brown head with bulging cheeks; his
+blotched body, adorned with wicked spines, tapered slimly off to an
+inconspicuous tail.
+
+"Horn-pout! Toad sculpin! Bah! Get out!"
+
+Jim slat the fish disgustedly off, and he sculled slowly downward. Two
+more bare hooks. Then three hake in succession, the largest not over
+five pounds. On the next line hung a writhing, twisting shape about
+eighteen inches long. With a wry face Jim held the thing up for Percy's
+inspection.
+
+"Slime eel! He's tied the ganging into knots and thrown off his jacket.
+Look here!"
+
+He stripped from the line a handful of tough, stringy slime like a mass
+of soft soap.
+
+"How's that for an overcoat! They always throw it off when they get hung
+up on a trawl."
+
+Flinging the stuff away with a grimace, he rinsed his hand and cut off
+the ganging with his knife.
+
+"No use trying to unhook that fellow!"
+
+Fathom after fathom of trawl came in over the roller. The flapping,
+dying heap in the center of the dory enlarged steadily. Jim was
+spattered with scales from head to foot, and drenched with water from
+the splashing tails. He stopped for a moment to rest.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Now you see what oil-clothes are good for," said he. "I'll give you
+your chance in a little while."
+
+Percy had kept the _Barracouta_ near by as Jim pulled the dory along
+the trawl. He could watch the process very well from the sloop, and he
+was by no means anxious for a personal experience with it. It looked too
+much like hard work. He made no reply to Jim's offer.
+
+Refreshed by his rest, the latter resumed hauling. Up came a little
+cluster of yellow plums, as large as small walnuts, each on a stem six
+inches long, attached to a brownish bunch of roots.
+
+"Nigger-heads! Always grow on rocky bottom; nicest kind of place for
+fish. Trawl must have run over a patch of ledge. We're likely to pick up
+something here besides hake. What's this?"
+
+A heavy fish appeared, hanging motionless on the next ganging. Jim gave
+a shout.
+
+"Haddock! Twelve-pounder. Swallowed the hook and worried himself to
+death. Drowned!"
+
+"Drown a fish!" jeered Percy.
+
+"Sure you can, any kind of fish, if you only keep his mouth open. If
+this fellow hadn't taken the bait in so deep he'd have been liable to
+break away. Fishermen call 'em 'butter-mouths,' their flesh is so
+tender; under jaw's the only place where a hook will hold to lift 'em
+by. See his red lips, and that black streak down each side. And look at
+these two black spots, big as silver dollars, on his shoulders; that's
+where they say the devil got him between his thumb and forefinger, but
+couldn't hold on."
+
+It was now not far from four o'clock. The sun, rising straight from the
+water, lifted his fiery red disk above the eastern horizon. It was a
+strange sight to Percy. The sunrises he had seen could almost be
+numbered on the fingers of one hand. He yawned. The novelty of trawling
+was wearing off; he wished himself back in his hard bunk.
+
+A heavy, chunky fish of an old-gold color, with an almost continuous
+line of fins, was the next habitant of the sea to cross the dory
+gunwale. Jim held him up to show Percy.
+
+"Look at this cusk! He likes rocky bottom as well as a haddock. He's
+used to deep water, and if you start him up quick his stomach will blow
+out of his mouth like a bladder. I've seen 'em so plenty that they
+floated a trawl on top of water for half a mile."
+
+Seven or eight small haddock and cusk, and then once more the trawl
+began to yield hake.
+
+"Back again on muddy bottom," said Jim. "What d'you say to trying your
+hand at it?"
+
+Percy agreed, but without enthusiasm. He had seen enough to realize that
+pulling a trawl was no sinecure. By means of a fish-fork Jim pitched his
+catch aboard the sloop. The first tub of trawl was now full. He
+transferred it to the _Barracouta_ and set an empty tub in its place.
+
+"You'll find fishing is no bed of roses," he remarked as he dropped down
+into the standing-room.
+
+"I believe you," answered Percy, with conviction.
+
+He started to get aboard the dory.
+
+"Not there!" warned Jim. "Forward of the kid-board!"
+
+The caution came too late. Percy stepped into the slippery pen from
+which the fish had just been pitched; unluckily, too, he was not careful
+to plant his weight amidships. The dory, overbalanced to starboard,
+careened suddenly, and he fell sprawling on the slimy bottom. Jim could
+not repress an exclamation of impatience.
+
+"Why didn't you step where I told you?"
+
+"I didn't think she'd tip so easy," retorted Percy, angrily.
+
+In bad humor with himself and things in general, he scrambled up and
+took his place back of the empty tub. Jim sheered the _Barracouta_ off.
+
+"Put on your nippers! If you don't your hands will be raw in a little
+while."
+
+Percy thrust his fingers through the white woolen doughnuts, grasped the
+trawl, and began dragging it in over the roller. He made slow, awkward
+work of it. Jim watched him with ill-suppressed impatience, keeping up a
+constant stream of necessary counsel.
+
+"Careful! Don't jerk so, or you'll catch your hooks in the gunwale.
+There's a good-sized one! Don't try to lift him aboard without the gaff.
+Press your hook down and back! Don't yank it sideways like that; you'll
+only hook him harder. Coil that line away more evenly, or we'll have a
+bad mess when we come to bait up. Don't lose that fellow! There he goes!
+Be more careful of the next one!"
+
+Needful though it was, this quickfire of advice rasped on Percy's
+temper. The unaccustomed work tired him badly. He was soon conscious of
+a pain in his shoulders and across the back of his neck; his wrists
+ached. Every now and then the hard, wiry line slipped off the nippers
+and sawed across his smarting fingers or palms. But pride kept him
+doggedly pulling.
+
+A dozen hake of various sizes lay behind him in the pen when a flat,
+kite-shaped fish, four feet long, with a caricature of a human face
+beneath its head, came scaling up through the water.
+
+"What's that?" he gasped in amazement.
+
+"Skate!"
+
+"Shall I keep him?"
+
+"Keep him? No! Unless you want to eat him yourself."
+
+Bunglingly Percy tried to dismiss his unwelcome catch, but he made slow
+work of extricating the deeply swallowed hook. Jim had stopped the
+_Barracouta_ a few feet off. With the agony that an expert feels at the
+unskilful butchery of a task by an amateur, he watched his mate's
+awkward attempts. At last he could stand it no longer.
+
+"Come aboard the sloop, Whittington," he ordered. "I'll finish pulling
+the trawl."
+
+Percy obeyed sullenly. He had almost reached his limit of physical
+endurance, and he was only too glad of relief for his smarting skin and
+aching muscles. Fishing was a miserable business, and he wanted no part
+of it; on that he was fully decided. But even if a job is unpleasant, a
+man would rather resign than be discharged. Jim's abruptness hurt his
+pride; the slight rankled.
+
+From the _Barracouta_ he somewhat enviously watched Spurling deftly
+unhook the skate. The remainder of the trawl was pulled in in silence.
+Percy kept the sloop at a distance that discouraged speech, closing the
+gap only when Jim signaled that he wished to discharge his cargo. By ten
+o'clock the last hook was reached, anchor and buoy taken aboard, and
+the _Barracouta_, with two thousand pounds of fish heaped in her kids
+and towing astern in the dory, headed for Tarpaulin Island.
+
+The trip home was a glum one. Two or three times Jim tried to open a
+conversation, but Percy responded only in monosyllables. He was tired
+and sleepy, and felt generally out-of-sorts. So Jim gave it up and let
+him alone.
+
+They reached Sprowl's Cove at noon. Budge and Throppy had returned some
+time before from pulling the lobster-traps; Jim inspected their catch.
+
+"About forty pounds," was his estimate. "Rather slim; but then the traps
+were down only about twelve hours. We'll do better after we get fairly
+started. I'm not going trawling to-morrow; so the whole crowd can make a
+lobstering trip in the _Barracouta_. Now let's have dinner. This
+afternoon we'll all turn to and dress fish."
+
+Percy filed a mental negative to the last statement. He had decided
+that, so far at least as Tarpaulin Island was concerned, his fishing
+days were over. Nevertheless, he ate a good dinner.
+
+At one o'clock the four academy boys rowed out to the _Barracouta_. All
+but Percy had on their oilskin aprons, or "petticoats."
+
+"Where's your regimentals, Whittington?" asked Lane.
+
+"I'm only going to look on this afternoon," replied Percy.
+
+The other three exchanged surprised glances, but made no comments. On
+board the sloop Jim was soon busily engaged in demonstrating the process
+of dressing fish. Budge and Throppy learned quickly. Percy's refusal to
+take part in the work did not prevent him from watching it with interest
+from the cabin roof.
+
+The fish were split and cleaned. Their heads were cut off and thrown
+into a barrel, to serve later as lobster bait, and the livers tossed
+into pails. Their "sounds," the membrane running along the backbone,
+were removed and placed in a box. After the bodies had been rinsed in a
+tub of water, and the backbones cut out, they were flung into the dory,
+taken ashore and plunged into another tub of water, and then salted down
+in hogsheads. Three pairs of hands made speedy work.
+
+"What do you do with those?"
+
+Percy pointed to the pails containing the livers.
+
+"Leave 'em in a barrel in the sun to be tried out," responded Jim. "The
+oil is worth more than sixty cents a gallon."
+
+"And those?"
+
+He indicated the box of "sounds."
+
+"Cut 'em open with a pair of shears, press out the blood, and spread 'em
+on wire netting to dry for three days; then sew 'em up in sacks, to be
+shipped to some glue-factory. Four pounds of 'em'll bring a dollar.
+These things and some others are the by-products of the fishing
+business. They're worth too much to throw away."
+
+Percy's eye dwelt on the knives and aprons of his three associates.
+
+"I'm glad I don't have to fish for a living," he said.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+SHORTS AND COUNTERS
+
+
+Percy slept soundly that night. To be sure, the alarm routed out the
+Spurlingites at the unseemly hour of four, but that was far better than
+twelve. After breakfast he enjoyed a cigarette on the beach while the
+others were helping Filippo clear away. It was a calm, beautiful
+morning, and as young Whittington gazed over the smooth, blue sea he
+felt that even a fisherman's life might have its redeeming features.
+
+At six they all started to make the round of the lobster-traps, on the
+_Barracouta_. The first string of white buoys, striped with green, was
+encountered off Brimstone Point.
+
+"Here's where we make a killing," said Jim.
+
+As he approached the first buoy he opened his switch, stopping the
+engine. Putting on his woolen mittens, he picked up the gaff. Close
+under the starboard quarter bobbed the brown bottle that served as a
+toggle. Reaching out with his gaff, he hooked this aboard, and began
+hauling in the warp. At last the heavily weighted trap started off
+bottom and began to ascend. In a half-minute its end, draped with marine
+growths, broke the surface.
+
+Holding the trap against the side, Jim tore off its incumbrances. The
+trailing mass was composed principally of irregular, brownish-black,
+leathery sheets at the end of long stems.
+
+"Kelp!" answered Jim to Percy's inquiry. "Devil's aprons! They grow on
+rocky bottom. I've seen a trap so loaded with 'em that you could hardly
+stir it."
+
+He dragged the lath coop up on the side. It contained a miscellaneous
+assortment, the most interesting objects in which were four or five
+black, scorpion-like shell-fish clinging to the netted heads and
+sprawling on the bottom. Unbuttoning the door at the top, Jim darted in
+his hand and seized one of these by its back. Round came the claws, wide
+open, and snapped shut close to his fingers; but he had grasped his
+prize at the one spot where the brandishing pincers could not reach him.
+
+"He's a 'counter,' fast enough! No need of measuring him! Must weigh at
+least two pounds."
+
+Jim dropped the snapping shell-fish into a tub in the standing-room.
+
+"I thought lobsters were red," remarked Percy.
+
+"They are--after you boil 'em."
+
+Spurling's hand went into the trap again. This time the result was not
+so satisfactory. Out came a little fellow, full of fight. Jim tested his
+length by pressing his back between the turned-up ends of a brass
+measure screwed against the side of the standing-room.
+
+"Thought so! He's a 'short'!"
+
+He tossed the lobster overboard.
+
+"What did you throw him away for?" asked Percy. "Isn't he good to eat?"
+
+"Nothing better! But it's the State law. Everything that comes short of
+four and three-fourths inches, solid bone measure, from the tip of the
+nose to the end of the back, has to be thrown over where it's caught."
+
+"Why's that?"
+
+"To keep 'em from being exterminated. It's based on the same principle
+as the law on trout or any other game-fish. Lobsters are growing scarcer
+every year, and something has to be done to preserve 'em."
+
+"Does everybody throw the little ones away?"
+
+"No! If they did there'd be more of legal size. The Massachusetts law
+allows the sale there of lobsters an inch and a half shorter than the
+length specified here; so their smacks come down, lie outside the
+three-mile limit, and buy 'shorts' of every fisherman who's willing to
+break the Maine law to sell 'em. Besides that, most of the summer
+cottagers along the coast buy and catch all the 'shorts' they can. So
+it's no wonder the lobster's running out."
+
+While Jim talked he was emptying the trap. Another "counter" went into
+the tub, and two more "shorts" splashed overboard. The financial side of
+the question interested Percy.
+
+"How many 'shorts' will you probably get a week?"
+
+"Five hundred or more."
+
+"And how much would a Massachusetts smack pay you for 'em?"
+
+"Ten or twelve cents apiece."
+
+"Then you expect to throw more than fifty dollars a week over the side,
+just to obey the law?"
+
+"That's what!"
+
+Percy lapsed into silence. The lobsters disposed of, Jim began to clear
+the trap of its other contents. A big brown sculpin was floundering on
+the laths. Taking him out gingerly, Jim tossed him into the bait-tub
+upon the hake heads.
+
+"He'll do for bait in a few days."
+
+He picked out and threw over three or four large starfish, or
+"five-fingers." The hake head stuck on the bait-spear in the center was
+almost gone; Jim replaced it with a fresh head from the bait-tub. Then
+he seized a mottled, purplish crab that had been aimlessly scuttling to
+and fro across the bottom of the pot, and impaled him, back down, on the
+barb of the spear. Shutting and buttoning the door, he slid the trap
+overboard, started his engine, and headed for the next buoy.
+
+Its trap was caught among the rocks on the bottom, and Jim, unable to
+start it by hand, was obliged to make the warp fast and have recourse to
+towing. Just as it looked as if the line were about to part, the trap
+let go. It yielded one "counter" and three "shorts." Also, it contained
+more than a dozen brown, unhealthy-looking, membranous things, shaped
+like long coin-purses, lined with rows of suckers, and with mouths at
+one end.
+
+"Sea-cucumbers! I've seen a trap full of 'em, almost to the door.
+They're after the bait, like everything else."
+
+Trap after trap was pulled, with varying success. Occasionally from a
+single one three or four good-sized lobsters would be taken;
+occasionally one would yield nothing at all. But the majority averaged
+one "counter." Percy could not accustom himself to the seeming waste of
+throwing over the "shorts."
+
+"I should think you might sell those little fellows to the Massachusetts
+boats, and nobody be the wiser for it."
+
+"I could; but I won't. I'll make clean money or I won't make any at
+all."
+
+There was a finality in Jim's tones that closed the subject for good.
+Half the traps had now been hauled and there were about seventy-five
+pounds of lobsters in the tub. Spiny, egg-like sea-urchins, green
+wrinkles, and an occasional flounder or lamper-eel gave variety to the
+catch. There was always the hope that the next trap might yield five or
+six big fellows.
+
+"Now and then," said Jim, "you get one so large he can't crawl into a
+pot. He'll be on the head, just as you start pulling, and he'll hang to
+the netting until he comes to the top. After they take hold of anything,
+they hate to let go."
+
+"What's the biggest one you ever saw?" asked Lane.
+
+"One day when I was in Rockland, a smack brought in a fifteen-pounder
+she'd bought at Seal Island. But of course they grow a good deal larger
+than that. The big ones don't taste nearly so good as the little ones.
+After they get to be a certain age, seven or eight years, the fishermen
+think, they don't 'shed.' Then you find 'em covered with barnacles,
+their claws cracked into squares, all wrinkled up. Those old grubbers
+belong to the offshore school; they stay outside, and never come in on
+the rocks."
+
+Percy was listening with all his ears.
+
+"What do you mean by saying they don't 'shed'?" he asked.
+
+"Harken to the lecture on lobsters by Professor James Spurling!"
+announced Lane in stentorian tones.
+
+The next group of traps was some distance off, so Jim had a chance to
+talk without interruption.
+
+"In the spring a lobster that is growing begins to find his shell too
+tight, so he has to get out of it. Some time after the first of July he
+crawls in under the rocks or kelp, where the fish can't trouble him. His
+shell splits down the back and he pulls himself out. He stays there for
+a week or ten days while a new and larger shell is forming. When he
+begins to crawl again, he's raving hungry. One queer thing I almost
+forgot. Fishermen say that, while he is lying under cover, all soft and
+unprotected, a hard-shell lobster, active and ugly, generally stands
+guard outside the hole, ready to fight off any enemy that may come
+along."
+
+By the time the last trap was pulled the lobster question had been
+pretty thoroughly canvassed.
+
+"Guess I've told you all I know, and more, too," said Jim.
+
+They were back in Sprowl's Cove at half past ten, and put their lobsters
+into the car with the others. Hardly had they finished when a
+motor-sloop came round the eastern point.
+
+"Here's a smack!" exclaimed Jim. "On time to the minute! Shouldn't
+wonder if it was Captain Higgins in the _Calista!_"
+
+The boat swept into the cove in a broad circle, and ranged alongside the
+car. At the helm stood a tall, grizzled man of perhaps sixty, with gray
+beard and twinkling blue eyes. A lanky, freckled boy stuck his head up
+out of the cabin.
+
+"Any lobsters to sell, boys?" inquired the man.
+
+"Isn't this Captain Higgins?" asked Jim.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"That's my name--Benjamin B. Higgins, of the smack _Calista_, buying
+lobsters from Cranberry Island to Portland, and this is my son Brad, my
+first mate and crew. I own this boat from garboard to main truck,
+bowsprit-tip to boom-end, and I don't wear any man's dog-collar. I'll
+give you a square deal on weight and pay you as much as any smackman,
+neither more nor less. Do we trade?"
+
+"We do," answered Jim. "Let's have your dip-net!"
+
+Stepping upon the car, he was soon bailing out the lobsters. Captain
+Higgins placed them in a tub on his deck scale.
+
+"Going to be here long, boys?"
+
+"We've taken the island for the season from my Uncle Tom Sprowl."
+
+"So you're Cap'n Tom's nephew? Must be Ezra Spurling's boy."
+
+Jim nodded.
+
+"Glad to meet you! Made a trip once to the Grand Banks with Ezra; must
+be all of thirty years ago. Well, time flies! If you'll save your
+lobsters for me, I'll look in here every Thursday. How does that hit
+you?"
+
+"Right between the eyes."
+
+After the lobsters were bailed out, Jim and Budge went on board the
+smack. Captain Higgins weighed the heaping tub of shell-fish.
+
+"One hundred and seventy pounds. Market price 's twenty-five."
+
+He glanced inquiringly at Jim.
+
+"All right!" agreed the latter.
+
+"Then we'll put 'em in the well."
+
+He lifted off a hatch aft of the scale, opening into a compartment
+containing something over three feet of water; it was twelve feet long
+and thirteen wide, and divided into two parts by a low partition running
+lengthwise of the sloop. Two water-tight bulkheads separated it from the
+rest of the boat, and several hundred inch-and-a-quarter holes, bored
+through its bottom to allow free access to the water outside, gave it
+the appearance of a pepper-box. It already contained hundreds of live
+lobsters.
+
+Picking the shell-fish carefully from the tub, Jim and the captain
+dropped them, one by one, into the well. Soon all were safely
+transferred to their new quarters, and the hatch was replaced. Captain
+Higgins invited Jim and Budge down into his little den of a cabin.
+Unlocking an iron box, he took from it a wallet and began counting out
+bills.
+
+"Forty-two dollars and a half!"
+
+He passed the amount over to Jim.
+
+"You carry quite a sum of ready money, Captain," said Lane.
+
+"Yes; I have to. This business is cash on the nail. My boat can take
+over twelve thousand pounds of lobsters, and sometimes she's almost
+filled. I've started out with three thousand dollars in that box, and I
+rarely go with less than two thousand. It'd surprise you to figure up
+the amount of cash these smacks spread along the coast. They say that
+one winter, when lobsters were specially high, a Portland dealer paid a
+smackman over fifty-five hundred dollars for a single trip."
+
+"Somebody must make a big profit. Think what a lobster costs in a
+market!"
+
+"Somebody does--sometimes. But it isn't the smackmen. Lobsters ought not
+to be kept in a well longer than a few days. A friend of mine started
+out from Halifax with ten thousand pounds of Cape Breton lobsters. He
+got caught in a gale of wind and lost forty-seven hundred pounds before
+he landed in Boston. Some years ago a Maine dealer put one hundred and
+five thousand lobsters in a pound during May and June; he fed them
+chiefly on herring, and the total cost was over ten thousand dollars.
+Things went wrong and he took out just two hundred and fifty-four live
+ones. Not much profit about that!"
+
+Arranging to call near noon the next Thursday, Captain Higgins had soon
+rounded Brimstone Point and was on his way to Head Harbor on Isle au
+Haut, his next stopping-place. In the middle of the afternoon, while the
+boys were baiting trawls on the _Barracouta_, another boat chugged into
+the cove. It was a smack from Boston.
+
+"Got any lobsters, boys?" asked the captain, a red-faced, smooth-shaven
+man of forty.
+
+"All sold!" was Jim's reply. "And we've arranged to let the _Calista_
+have what we get."
+
+"What do you do with your 'shorts'?"
+
+"Heave 'em overboard."
+
+"Save 'em for me and I'll give you ten cents apiece for 'em."
+
+"Nothing doing!"
+
+"You and your crowd could clean up fifty dollars more a week here just
+as well as not. What are you afraid of? The warden can't get out here
+once in a dog's age."
+
+"The State of Maine doesn't have to hire any warden to keep me honest."
+
+"You're a fool, young fellow!" said the man, heatedly.
+
+"That may be," retorted Jim, "but your saying so doesn't make me one.
+Besides, I'd rather be a fool than a crook."
+
+The smackman's red face grew redder.
+
+"Don't you get fresh with me!" he warned, threateningly. "Do you mean to
+say I'd do anything crooked?"
+
+"You're the best judge about that."
+
+Jim was tiring of the conversation. He turned his back on the stranger
+and resumed baiting his trawl. Finding that nothing was to be gained by
+a longer stop, the man, muttering angrily, started his engine and left
+the cove.
+
+"I'm not saying whether this lobster law's a good thing or not," said
+Jim to the other boys. "Some fishermen say it isn't. But so long as it's
+the law it ought to be kept, until we can get a better one. I don't
+believe in breaking it just for the sake of making a few dollars."
+
+"Then the law doesn't suit everybody," ventured Throppy.
+
+"Not by a long shot! Each session of the Legislature they fight it over,
+and make some changes, and then a new set of people are dissatisfied.
+What's meat to one man is poison to another. It's impossible to pass a
+law somebody wouldn't find fault with."
+
+"What keeps one man from pulling another man's traps?" asked Percy.
+
+"His conscience, if he has any; and, if he hasn't, his dread of being
+found out. It's a mean kind of thieving, but more or less of it's done
+alongshore. Sometimes it costs a man dear. I know of two cases, within
+twenty-five miles of this island, where men have been shot dead for that
+very thing. About as unhealthy as stealing horses out West, if you're
+caught. Like everything else, now and then it has its funny side. Once a
+lobsterman lost his watch, chain and all; for a day or two he was asking
+everybody he met if they'd seen it. A neighbor of his went out to pull
+his own traps. In one of them he found the first man's watch, hanging by
+its chain to the door, just where it had been caught and twitched out of
+its owner's pocket when he had slid the trap overboard, after stealing
+the lobsters in it. It was a long time before he heard the last of
+that."
+
+"Did he get his watch back?" asked Percy.
+
+"Don't know!" replied Jim. "But if he didn't it served him right."
+
+On the _Barracouta's_ next trip to Matinicus she brought back the
+balance of Throppy's wireless outfit. It did not take him long to get
+his plant in working order. Almost every evening thereafter he spent a
+short time picking up messages from passing steamers and the neighboring
+islands, and sending others in return. The wireless came to fill an
+important place in the life of the boys on Tarpaulin, furnishing a bond
+of connection between them and the outside world.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+SALT-WATER GIPSIES
+
+
+A few mornings after the first call of the _Calista_ Budge and Percy
+were out pulling traps. Percy had told Jim plainly that he did not care
+to do any more trawling. Jim had smiled and made no reply; but after
+that either Throppy or Budge went out with him after hake. What the
+others said in private about Percy he neither knew nor cared.
+
+On this particular forenoon the lobster-catchers had half circled the
+island. As they nosed along the northern shore Percy spied some
+strange-looking floats ahead.
+
+"There's a red buoy!" he exclaimed. "Somebody else must be fishing
+here!"
+
+Incredulously Budge glanced forward. What he saw left him sober.
+
+"You're right! This'll be unpleasant news for Jim."
+
+They ran up to the strange float. It was a battered wedge, painted a
+faded brick color. Percy gaffed it aboard.
+
+"What's the brand?" queried Budge.
+
+"Hasn't any."
+
+Lane examined it and found that Percy was correct. The wood bore no
+marks to reveal its owner.
+
+"Better haul the trap?" asked Percy.
+
+He began heaving in on the warp.
+
+"Stop that!" ordered Budge, sharply. "Throw it over. We don't want to
+get into any scrape. We'll have to put it up to Jim this noon. He'll
+know what to do."
+
+They counted nine more of the red buoys before they reached the
+northeast point of the island.
+
+"Look there!"
+
+Percy pointed toward the landlocked Sly Hole. A thin column of blue
+smoke was rising above it, as if from the stovepipe of an anchored boat.
+Budge debated for a moment, then turned the bow of the pea-pod toward
+the narrow entrance.
+
+"We'll go in and see who's there."
+
+A dozen quick strokes sent the boat through the winding channel into the
+little harbor. Budge rested on his oars and they looked eagerly about.
+
+In the center of the haven lay anchored a rusty black sloop about forty
+feet long, a dory swinging at her stern. From her cabin drifted the
+sound and smell of frying fish, mingled with men's voices.
+
+"Might as well take the bull by the horns," said Budge.
+
+He rowed directly up to the sloop. The sounds on board evidently drowned
+the dipping of his oars, for it was not until the stem of the pea-pod
+struck the rusty side that the voices stopped and two startled brown
+faces popped up out of the companionway. Both men had sharp black eyes,
+and black shocks of hair badly in need of the barber. One was slightly
+gray, and a prickly stubble of unshaven beard covered his chin. The
+younger man had a jet-black mustache with long, drooping ends. Both wore
+red shirts, open at the neck, with sleeves rolled above the elbows. The
+younger held a half-smoked cigar, while his companion grasped a large
+fork, which he evidently had been using on the fish. For a few seconds
+the two couples regarded each other in silence.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Then the man with the black mustache smiled ingratiatingly.
+
+"H'lo, boys!" he invited. "Won't you come 'board?"
+
+"No, thank you," declined Budge. "When did you get here?"
+
+"We come last night, from ... there," with a vague gesture toward the
+west. "We fish, we lobster. You live on dis island ... yes? We stay
+here, too. We be good friend. Wait!"
+
+Diving below, he brought up a long-necked black bottle.
+
+"You have drink?"
+
+"No!" refused Budge, decidedly.
+
+The man looked disappointed. He muttered a few words to his companion.
+The latter scowled. Then they drank from the bottle and replaced it
+below. The younger man began talking again.
+
+"Disa good harbor! We build camp there."
+
+He gestured toward the beach.
+
+"We plenty lath on board. We make one ... two hundred trap. We stop all
+summer. Good friend, eh?"
+
+"I guess so," returned Budge.
+
+The program announced had taken him somewhat aback. He hardly knew what
+to reply. Pushing the pea-pod off, he turned her toward the channel.
+
+"You livea 'cross dis island ... yes?" shouted the man after him. "We
+come see you to-night!"
+
+Budge made no response to this advance. Steady, rapid pulling soon
+brought the boys again into open water.
+
+"Well, what do you think now?" asked Percy.
+
+"Wait till we hear what Jim says," was Lane's reply.
+
+The remaining traps were hauled in double-quick time and they made a
+bee-line for Sprowl's Cove. Spurling and Throppy came in at noon on the
+_Barracouta_. Jim's brows knitted when he heard of their new neighbors.
+
+"What should you say they were?" he inquired.
+
+"Don't know," answered Lane. "Only I'm sure they're not Yankees."
+
+"And they had no brand on their buoys?"
+
+"Not a letter!"
+
+"That's against the law. Suspicious, too. So they intend to build a camp
+here and spend the summer?"
+
+"That's what they said."
+
+The anxious furrows in Jim's forehead deepened. He brought his fist down
+hard on the _Barracouta's_ cabin.
+
+"Boys," he said, firmly, "they can't stop here. There aren't lobsters
+enough on these ledges for them and for us. What they get we won't.
+They've got to pull up those traps and get out just as quick as we can
+make 'em."
+
+The others exchanged looks of surprise. Though they knew Jim's absolute
+fairness and sense of right, they could not help feeling that his
+decision was a harsh one. Jim read their faces.
+
+"I know what you're thinking, boys. It seems as if I had no right to
+drive 'em off. But suppose any one of you owned a piece of woods on the
+mainland, and a stranger should come and begin to chop the trees down
+without your permission. How long would you stand it? The same principle
+holds good here, even if it is twenty-five miles offshore. This is my
+uncle Tom's island. He's been paying taxes on it for years. His living
+comes from it and the waters round it. He's leased it to us on shares,
+and we've got to look out for his interest as well as our own.
+
+"But how can you stop them from setting traps?" queried Lane. "I thought
+the sea beyond low-water mark was public property."
+
+"It is. They can set as many traps as they can bring on their sloop, and
+I never could trouble 'em so long as they lived aboard. If they fished
+with only the few they've got now I'd never say a word. But when they
+talk of building a camp ashore, and going into the business wholesale
+with one or two hundred pots, we must draw the line, and draw it sharp.
+They can't use any of the shore legally without my permission, and that
+they'll never get; and if they try to use it illegally they'll find
+themselves in hot water mighty quick.
+
+"Another thing," he continued, "they're strangers to us, and drinking
+men. They might pull our traps or accuse us of pulling theirs. There's a
+chance for all sorts of mix-ups. No, they've got to go, and the sooner
+the better."
+
+"They're coming across to call to-night," said Lane.
+
+"Not if we can get over there first. We'll go round in the sloop as soon
+as these hake are dressed and salted."
+
+At four o'clock the last fish was slapped down on the rounded-up tub.
+
+"Now we'll go," announced Jim. "Come on, everybody! You, too, Filippo!
+Might as well show up our full force. It may help stave off trouble."
+
+"Aren't you going to take the gun?" Percy inquired.
+
+"Gun? No! What'd we want of that? We don't intend to shoot anybody."
+
+Twenty minutes after the _Barracouta_ left Sprowl's Cove she was
+thudding into the Sly Hole. The sloop still lay at anchor in its center,
+but the dory was grounded on the beach. From the woods above, ax-strokes
+echoed faintly.
+
+"Either cutting firewood or beginning on that camp," said Jim.
+
+Presently the chopping ceased. Before long the two men appeared on the
+top of the bank, dragging a spruce trunk about twenty feet long. On
+seeing the _Barracouta_ they halted in surprise, then dropped the tree
+and hurried down to their dory.
+
+"Seem to be afraid we've been mousing round aboard their boat," muttered
+Spurling.
+
+Without responding to his hail the two strangers rowed hastily to their
+sloop and went below. A minute or two of investigation evidently
+satisfied them that nothing had been disturbed. As they came up again
+Jim ran the _Barracouta_ alongside.
+
+"Where you from?" he asked.
+
+The younger man again acted as spokesman:
+
+"Way off ... there!"
+
+As when Budge had questioned him, he gestured vaguely toward the west.
+Then he launched into a repetition of what he had said that forenoon.
+
+"We stay on dis island all summer. Make trap. Build camp. Catch plenty
+fish, plenty lobster. All friend, eh?"
+
+He laid his left hand on his heart, and with his right made a sweeping
+gesture that included the whole group.
+
+"You wait!"
+
+Dropping suddenly out of sight, he reappeared with equal quickness,
+brandishing the black bottle.
+
+"We drink ... all together, eh?"
+
+Jim brushed his proffer aside.
+
+"I've hired this island. You'll have to pay me rent if you stop here."
+
+A shadow of wrath swept over the dark face. Instantly it was gone, and a
+smile replaced it.
+
+"Rent!" he protested. "No, no! Friend no pay! We sing, we smoke, we
+drink, we playa cards. All good friend together. No pay money!"
+
+The last very decided. The older man nodded vigorously in confirmation,
+and for the first time broke silence.
+
+"No pay money!" he repeated. "All friend!"
+
+The two laid their hands on their hearts and stood smiling and bowing.
+For a moment Jim was nonplussed. He backed the _Barracouta_ out of
+earshot.
+
+"Well, what d'you think of the outlook?" asked Lane.
+
+"Don't like it, and I don't like them. Too much palaver! I've got 'em
+sized up. They're regular salt-water gipsies; I've heard of 'em before.
+They drift round from one place to another, fish a little, lobster a
+little, smoke a good deal, and drink more. They'd be worse than a
+pestilence on this island. Yes, sir! They've got to go! They know just
+as well as I do that they've no right to stop here; but they're going to
+bluff it through. They'll try to stave me off by pretending not to
+understand what I mean, but you noticed they were bright enough when
+money was mentioned."
+
+"What are you going to do about it?"
+
+"Tell 'em they've got to go!"
+
+"And if they won't?"
+
+"Send for the sheriff!"
+
+While the boys had been holding their council of war the two men had
+disappeared into their cabin, where they held an angry, but
+unintelligible, discussion. As Jim brought the _Barracouta_ once more
+alongside their heads quickly appeared. They were scowling blackly.
+
+"Will you pay rent?" demanded Jim.
+
+"No pay rent," came the defiant reply from both together.
+
+"Pull up your traps, then, and go!"
+
+"No go!" exclaimed the younger. "You go! We stay!"
+
+"That settles it," said Jim. "I'll send for the sheriff to-night, and
+have him here in the morning."
+
+He leaned over to start his engine. At his first movement the two
+dropped out of sight, but before he could rock the wheel they were up
+again, each holding a shot-gun. They leveled these weapons at the
+_Barracouta_.
+
+"No send for sheriff! No start engine!"
+
+Jim straightened up and the startled boys glanced at one another. The
+demonstration of hostility had come like a bolt from a clear sky. Things
+looked ugly. Again the younger man spoke.
+
+"S'pose you go for sheriff. We stay! Cut buoy! Sink boat! Burn cabin!
+Then go before you get back! How you like that, eh?"
+
+For once Jim was at a loss. What answer could be made to such an
+argument? The other noted his hesitation, and smiled triumphantly.
+
+"You let us alone, we let you alone! You trouble us, we trouble you. Now
+you go!"
+
+It was half a permission, half a command, backed by the leveled guns.
+Jim was on the point of starting the engine when Filippo interrupted
+him.
+
+"Misser Jim, let me talk to 'em," he begged in a low tone.
+
+Spurling glanced at him in surprise.
+
+"What for, Filippo? Are they countrymen of yours?"
+
+"Don't know! I see!"
+
+"Go ahead, then! It can't do any hurt."
+
+"Hi!" called out Filippo. "Listen! _Ascoltatemi!_"
+
+The two men started as if they had been shot; they fixed their gaze on
+Filippo. He began talking rapidly to them in Italian, gesturing freely.
+They replied in the same language. For fully ten minutes the heated
+dialogue continued. Jim and his mates listened in silence, now and then
+catching a word they had learned from Filippo, but not comprehending the
+drift of the debate.
+
+At last it was clear that some conclusion had been reached. Shaking
+their heads in disgust, the two sullenly restored their guns to the
+cabin. Filippo turned to Jim.
+
+"All right! They go to-night, after they pull traps. Now we start--right
+away!"
+
+Jim looked at the Italian in amazement; but he started the engine and
+the sloop forged out of the cove. Once in the passage, he broke silence.
+
+"How did you ever manage it, Filippo?"
+
+"I tell them your uncle own island; you hire it of him for summer. You
+lots of friends. If they no go, you send for sheriff right away. We too
+many for them. Guard cabin with gun till you get back. Sheriff come in
+night, while they sleep. Take them, take boat, take trap. Put them in
+jail. They break rock, work on road rest of summer. They not like that.
+They go!"
+
+"Good enough, Filippo! Guess you didn't strain the truth much. You
+certainly have got us out of an unpleasant hole. I'm free to say I was
+at my wits' end. Good thing for us we ran across you on the wharf at
+Stonington!"
+
+"Better thing for me!" answered Filippo.
+
+That evening after supper the boys stole silently through the woods to
+the northeastern end of the island. The Sly Hole was empty! The sloop
+had gone!
+
+Stepping out of the evergreens, Jim looked westward along the shore.
+
+"There they are!"
+
+The dory towing astern was piled high with traps.
+
+"Shouldn't wonder if they had some of ours among 'em!" exclaimed Jim.
+"No matter! We're getting rid of 'em cheap, if they scoop a dozen! But
+look at that! They've got all they want, and now they're cutting away
+our buoys! Here's where I call a halt!"
+
+He sprang out upon the bank in plain sight.
+
+"Hi, there! Stop that!"
+
+One of the men had just gaffed a buoy. At Jim's hail he glanced up and
+waved his hand nonchalantly. Then he deliberately cut the warp. The
+other man dropped into the cabin and reappeared with the two guns. Jim
+threw himself flat on his face.
+
+"Down, boys!" he cried.
+
+A hail of birdshot peppered the bluff and the woods behind it as both
+the double-barrels roared out in unison. One leaden pellet drew blood
+from the back of Jim's hand, while Throppy, a little slow in dropping to
+cover, was stung on the cheek. The others were untouched. Percy shook
+with fright and excitement. Lane was boiling with anger.
+
+"Let's take the _Barracouta_ and follow 'em!" he proposed.
+
+"Cool off, Budge!" laughed Jim. "That's just a parting salute. Besides,
+they've got two guns to our one. Let 'em go! And good riddance to bad
+rubbish! See! They're on their way now!"
+
+The sloop's head swung to the north and she filled away.
+
+"They've done what damage they've dared and they're gone for good.
+They'll be up at Isle au Haut to-night, either in Head Harbor or
+Kimball's Island Thoroughfare. Forget 'em!"
+
+"Lucky my temper isn't hitched up with your strength," said Lane.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+FISTS AND FIREWORKS
+
+
+Late on the afternoon of July 3d, when the morning's catch of eighteen
+hundred pounds of hake had been split and salted, Spurling called a
+council of war. Percy attended with the others. He had gone out with
+Budge in the morning to haul the lobster-traps; the rest of the day he
+had loafed, lying on the soft turf below the beacon on Brimstone Point
+and reading _The Three Musketeers_.
+
+Of the work that pleased him he had determined to do only as much as he
+liked, and not a stroke more. Lobstering was really attractive; there
+was enough novelty and excitement about it to keep him interested. When
+a pot came up it might contain no shell-fish or a half-dozen; the
+element of uncertainty appealed to his sporting instincts. But fishing
+he had stricken utterly from his list. It was too hard and too dirty.
+Slogging at the heavy trawls and afterward dressing the catch was too
+plebeian a business for the son of a millionaire.
+
+So he let the others tire their muscles and soil their hands and
+clothing while he attended strictly to the business of pleasing himself.
+He could not help being aware of a growing coolness on the part of his
+associates, but it gave him no concern. His month of probation was
+almost up, and he had decided that, come what might, he would leave at
+its end. Only a few days more, and this hard, monotonous island life
+would be behind him forever. He would send back a check to cover the
+expense of his board, and that would permanently close his relations
+with Spurling & Company.
+
+This resolve to pay for meals and lodging gave him a feeling of
+independence. Hence, though he knew the others did not care whether he
+attended or not, he felt himself entitled to a place at the council.
+
+The meeting took place on the beach in front of the cabin. Spurling and
+Stevens had just come from the _Barracouta_, their oilskin "petticoats"
+bearing gory evidence of their work for the last two hours.
+
+"Fellows," proposed Jim, "to-morrow let's celebrate! We can't set the
+trawls, for we haven't anything to bait up with. And even if we had, I
+don't believe in working on the Fourth. When I was at Matinicus the
+other day I saw a poster advertising a ball-game and big celebration at
+Vinalhaven. We'll have an early breakfast and run up there in the
+_Barracouta_. First, we'll go to Hardy's weir and take in a lot of
+herring for bait. Then we can slip round to Carver's Harbor and spend
+the rest of the day ashore. What d'you say?"
+
+There was no doubt regarding the vote.
+
+"The ayes have it!" shouted Spurling. "Now let's get everything in trim
+for day after to-morrow! We won't pull the traps again until then."
+
+Filled with enthusiasm at the prospect of a holiday, Budge, Throppy, and
+Jim dispersed to their various tasks. Yawningly, Percy returned to
+Brimstone Point and _The Three Musketeers_. After all, doing nothing on
+an island twenty-five miles out at sea was pretty dull work.
+
+The boys had an early supper and were soon asleep. Turning out at
+daybreak, they despatched a hearty meal of corn-bread and bacon.
+Everybody but Percy took hold with the dishes and helped tidy up the
+camp. Shortly after sunrise they were sailing out of the cove in the
+_Barracouta_.
+
+The trip in past Saddleback Light to Vinalhaven was uneventful. By eight
+o'clock they were lying alongside Hardy's weir, and its owner was
+dipping bushel after bushel of shining herring into the pen aboard the
+sloop. Before ten they were anchored off the steamboat wharf at Carver's
+Harbor.
+
+The town was in gala dress. Bunting streamed everywhere. Torpedoes,
+firecrackers, bombs, and revolvers rent the air with deafening
+explosions. The brass guns on two yachts in the harbor contributed an
+occasional salvo. As the boys rowed in to the shore the strains of "The
+Star-Spangled Banner" came floating over the water, and round the outer
+point appeared one of the small bay steamers, loaded with excursionists,
+including a brass band. On board also was the Camden baseball team,
+scheduled to play the opening game in the county league series with the
+home team that afternoon.
+
+Bedlam broke loose as the steamer made fast to the wharf and the crowd
+aboard streamed ashore. To Spurling and his friends, after three weeks
+of Tarpaulin Island, the narrow, winding street with its holiday crowd
+afforded the bustle and varied interest of a city. Even Percy deigned to
+allow himself to be tempted out of the sulky dignity which he had
+assumed since the council of the previous afternoon.
+
+The group scattered. Lane and Stevens wandered about town, taking in the
+sights and dodging the torpedoes and firecrackers of enthusiastic
+patriots of a more or less tender age. Spurling found an old 'longshore
+acquaintance from a visiting boat and went off aboard to inspect his new
+type of engine. Filippo struck up an eternal friendship with a
+fellow-countryman from the granite quarries on Hurricane. Percy, left to
+his own resources, invested in a new brand of cigarettes and promenaded
+back and forth along the main street, smoking and eying the passers-by
+superciliously.
+
+Noon found the restaurants packed with hungry excursionists; but the
+crowds were good-natured and everybody was able to get plenty to eat. At
+two o'clock there was a grand rush to the baseball-grounds.
+
+Spurling, Lane, and Stevens sat together in the front of the stand;
+Percy perched at the extreme right of the topmost row; while Filippo lay
+on the grass back of third base with his new-found, swarthy compatriot.
+
+Evidently there was some hitch about beginning the game. The Vinalhavens
+had taken the field for practice. The Camden team, bunched close
+together, were talking earnestly, meanwhile casting anxious glances
+toward the street that led to the water.
+
+The Vinalhaven scorer passed before the stand with his book.
+
+"What's the trouble?" asked Stevens.
+
+"Camden catcher and third-baseman haven't shown up. They started out
+with a party in a power-boat before the steamer. Engine must have broken
+down. Here it is time to call the game, and the visiting team two men
+short! And the biggest crowd of the season here! Can you beat that for
+luck?"
+
+The Camden pitcher separated himself from his companions and strolled
+toward the stand.
+
+"Anybody here want to put on a mitt and stop a few fast ones?" he
+inquired.
+
+"That means you, Jim!" said Lane. "Come on! Don't be too modest!"
+
+Spurling climbed out over the front of the stand.
+
+"I'll try to hold you for a little while," he volunteered.
+
+Soon he was smoothly receiving the pitcher's curves and lobbing them
+back. The combination went like clockwork. In the mean time the rest of
+the Camden team had taken the field and were warming up. The missing
+members had not yet appeared.
+
+"That'll do for a while," said the pitcher.
+
+The two drew to one side.
+
+"What team have you been catching on?" asked the Camden man, suddenly.
+
+"Graffam Academy."
+
+"I knew you must have traveled with a pretty speedy bunch. My name's
+Beverage."
+
+"Mine's Spurling."
+
+"Say, old man, I want you to do us a big favor. Catch this game for
+Camden, will you?"
+
+"I've been out of practice for over a month," objected Jim.
+
+"Never mind about that! I don't mean to flatter you, but we've got
+nothing in this league that can touch you. Come, now! As a personal
+favor to me!"
+
+"All right. I'll do my best."
+
+"Good for you! Now we've got to pick up a third-baseman!"
+
+Jim hesitated.
+
+"Our Academy shortstop is here," he said, slowly. "He can play a mighty
+good third at a pinch."
+
+"If he's willing, we'll take him on your say-so, and snap at the
+chance."
+
+Jim walked to the front of the stand.
+
+"You're signed for third for this game, Budge! I'm going to catch."
+
+"We've got a couple of spare suits," said Beverage. "Come on over to the
+hotel and change."
+
+In fifteen minutes Lane and Spurling were back on the field in Camden
+uniforms and the game had begun.
+
+The contest was a hot one. The teams were evenly matched, and the result
+hung in doubt up to the last inning. The crowd boiled with enthusiasm
+and the supporters of each team cheered themselves hoarse.
+
+In the middle of the fifth inning, when the excitement was running
+highest, a slim, bareheaded figure with a tow pompadour sprouting above
+a fog-burnt face leaped suddenly up at the right end of the top row in
+the stand.
+
+It was Percy. Exhilarated by the closeness of the game, he had forgotten
+his grudge against Spurling & Company. He flourished a roll of bills.
+
+"Two to one on Camden!" he shouted in a high-keyed voice.
+
+All heads turned his way. For a moment nobody spoke. Percy mistook the
+silence. He struck a theatric attitude.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Three to one! Are you afraid to support your home team?"
+
+A girl giggled. Two or three boys hooted. Then a short, dark, thick-set
+man in the second row whirled about and answered the challenger.
+
+"No," he said, deliberately. "We're not afraid to support our nine. If
+we were, it wouldn't be playing here to-day. We expect it to do its
+best. If it wins, it wins. If it loses, it loses. And that's all there
+is to it. Whatever dollars we have to put into baseball will go to meet
+the regular expenses of the team. We haven't any money to fool away in
+betting; and we don't care for any more second-hand talk from a
+half-baked youngster like you! You get me?"
+
+The crowd applauded uproariously. Pursued by the jeers and catcalls of
+the small fry, Percy sat down, his face, if possible, redder than
+before.
+
+Spurling caught an errorless game. It was Lane's bat in the last half of
+the ninth that finally drove in the winning run for Camden. Five to
+four.
+
+The crowd streamed noisily off the grounds. A knot of the younger
+element tried to heckle Percy, but he strode loftily by them, puffing
+his inevitable cigarette. Jim and Budge went to the hotel with the
+Camden team to change their suits.
+
+Beverage was jubilant over the victory.
+
+"It's a mean thing to say," he remarked; "but I'm glad that power-boat
+didn't get here. We owe the game to you two fellows. How much shall we
+pay you?"
+
+"Nothing," answered Jim. "We're paid already. We've enjoyed winning as
+much as you have."
+
+"Well, if you ever come to Camden, remember that you own the town."
+
+The boys decided to stop over for the early-evening celebration. The
+Vinalhavens were good losers, and the excursion steamer was not to start
+back until nine o'clock, so the town promised to be lively enough for
+the next few hours.
+
+Before it had grown very dark the streets began to blaze with fireworks.
+Percy's remarks of the afternoon still rankled in the minds of the
+junior portion of the residents, and, as he sauntered to and fro, he
+became the butt of many pointed jests. He ignored them all. Such
+trivialities were beneath the notice of a scion of the house of
+Whittington.
+
+It was his air of haughty superiority that got him into trouble. Tempted
+beyond endurance by his cool, insolent swagger, a small boy on the other
+side of the street discharged a Roman candle at him point-blank. One of
+the fiery balls struck his right side and dropped into the open pocket
+of his coat, starting a lively blaze. The garment got a smart
+scorching, and Percy's fingers were burnt and his feelings badly ruffled
+before he succeeded in extinguishing the conflagration.
+
+Singling out the offender among a group of boys dancing delightedly up
+and down, Percy made a sudden rush and pounced upon him like a hawk on a
+chicken. Holding him by the collar, he cuffed his ears soundly. The
+criminal wriggled and twisted, loudly and tearfully protesting his
+innocence.
+
+A stocky, freckled lad of about eighteen, with a close-cut head of brown
+hair, came out of a neighboring house on the run. His snub nose and
+projecting jaw suggested a human bulldog. He thrust his face close up to
+Percy's.
+
+"What're you maulin' my brother for?" he demanded, truculently.
+
+Percy dropped his victim, having finished chastising him. The latter
+rubbed his eyes and howled louder than ever.
+
+"I asked you why you were maulin' my brother," reiterated the newcomer
+in a still more belligerent tone.
+
+"Because he burned this hole in my coat," replied Percy, exhibiting the
+damaged garment.
+
+"I didn't do it!" howled the boy.
+
+"You hear that?" exclaimed the freckled lad, angrily. "He says he didn't
+and I say he didn't."
+
+"Well, I say he did!"
+
+"Do you mean to tell me I lie?"
+
+Percy became suddenly aware that a ring was forming round him. He cast a
+hasty glance about the lowering faces and recognized some of his
+would-be hecklers of the afternoon. No Tarpaulin Islanders were there.
+He was a stranger in a strange land. But the Whittington in him was up,
+and he did not blench. He faced his questioner.
+
+"If you say he didn't burn that hole--yes!"
+
+An indignant chorus rose from the group.
+
+"Did you hear that, Jabe? He called you a liar. I wouldn't stand that.
+Make him eat those words! It's the fresh guy who made the cheap talk at
+the ball-game. Soak him! Do him up!"
+
+Spurred on by these exhortations, Jabe dropped his head between his
+shoulders and came at his enemy with the rush of a mad bull.
+
+Percy was a good boxer. He had taken lessons from several first-class
+sparring-masters, and would have been no mean antagonist for anybody of
+his age and weight. But Jabe was a year older and fully twenty-five
+pounds heavier. Evidently, too, he had the abounding health and strength
+that come from life in the open. The odds against the city boy were
+heavy, but he stood up gamely.
+
+Jabe rushed in upon him and struck with all his might. Percy
+side-stepped, and the blow went harmlessly by, while his assailant's
+rush carried him to the other side of the ring. Whirling about with a
+cry of rage, he came back, swinging his arms like a windmill.
+
+"Now, Jabe! Now, Jabe!" rose the cry.
+
+Again Percy leaped aside, and his right arm shot out. The blow caught
+his foe fairly under the left ear, and he went sprawling; but he was
+down only for a moment. Springing to his feet, he hurled himself into
+the fray with redoubled fury. Again he was knocked down, and again he
+renewed the battle, with more strength than before.
+
+The fight could not last long. It was muscle against science, and in the
+end muscle won. Percy began to tire and to grow short of breath. He had
+smoked too many cigarettes to be able to keep up such a whirlwind pace
+for many minutes. Though he landed five blows to his enemy's one, the
+latter's one did more damage than his five.
+
+For the first time in the contest Jabe used his head. Hitherto he had
+struck straight for the mark each time. Now he feinted with his right
+for his foe's body. Percy dropped his guard somewhat wearily. Before he
+realized what was happening, Jabe's left, sent in with tremendous force,
+hit him a smashing blow squarely on the nose, knocking him over
+backward.
+
+It was the beginning of the end. Percy tottered up, blood spurting from
+his nose, his head spinning. He saw Jabe preparing for another rush and
+knew it would be the last one. He stiffened himself to receive the
+knock-out.
+
+A tall, broad-shouldered figure broke through the circle.
+
+"What's the trouble here?"
+
+It was Spurling's voice. His glance took in the situation.
+
+"That'll be about all," he said. "Come away, Whittington!"
+
+A bullet-headed, shirt-sleeved man bristled up defiantly. It was Jabe's
+father.
+
+"Guess we'll let 'em fight it out," he observed.
+
+His boy was winning.
+
+"No," said Jim. "It's gone far enough."
+
+"Not looking for trouble, are you?"
+
+"No," remarked Jim, easily. "I don't want any trouble with you, and you
+don't want any with me."
+
+The shirt-sleeved man glanced appraisingly at his square shoulders and
+strongly knit figure.
+
+"Right you are, George!" he laughed. "I don't want any trouble with you.
+You must be a mind-reader. You call off your dog and I'll call off
+mine."
+
+He grasped Jabe by the collar and jerked him backward. Jim dropped a
+compelling hand on Percy's shoulder.
+
+"Come on, Whittington! You ought to have brains enough to know you've
+been licked. It's time we started for Tarpaulin Island."
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+REBELLION IN CAMP
+
+
+Conversation lagged on the _Barracouta_ as she jogged smoothly over the
+starlit sea toward Tarpaulin Island. By the dim light of two lanterns,
+Jim, Throppy, Budge, and Filippo were busy baiting the trawls with
+herring and coiling them into the tubs in the standing-room. Percy had
+withdrawn from his companions and lay across the heel of the bowsprit on
+the decked-over bow.
+
+He had stanched the flow of blood from his nose, but it still pained
+him, and he was otherwise bruised and badly shaken by the buffets from
+Jabe's knobby fists. Judged by Percy's feelings, Jabe must have been all
+knuckles. Percy had to acknowledge that only Spurling's opportune
+appearance had saved him from being pounded unmercifully. But his pride
+had been injured far more than his physical body. It seemed improbable
+that he would ever see Jabe again, but he determined that some time,
+somewhere, and somehow the freckled lad should pay dearly for the slight
+he had put upon the house of Whittington.
+
+It was a few minutes past eleven when the sloop's engine stopped and she
+glided up to her mooring in Sprowl's Cove. Five sleepy boys tumbled into
+the dory and paddled ashore. The Fourth was over and the routine of
+workaday life would begin again for them early the next morning.
+
+Nemo dashed back and forth on the beach, barking a furious welcome and
+springing upon his masters indiscriminately. Unwittingly he leaped at
+Percy and in playful mood closed his teeth over the lad's right thumb,
+sprained and aching from the fight.
+
+"Get out, you cur!" exclaimed Whittington.
+
+He launched an aimless, vindictive kick in the general direction of the
+gamboling beast. As often happens with random blows, it went too true.
+Nemo ki-yied up the beach on three legs.
+
+"What are you about, Whittington?" burst out Lane, angrily. Among the
+entire five he was the fondest of the dog.
+
+Percy was ashamed and sorry that he had hurt the animal, but Lane's
+eruption of temper smothered his repentant feelings.
+
+"He bit my thumb," he muttered, sullenly.
+
+"You know well enough he was just in sport. Don't you kick him again!
+You hear me!"
+
+Percy mumbled an indistinct reply. As soon as the cabin was unlocked he
+turned into his bunk, without a word to anybody. For him the Fourth had
+been anything but a holiday.
+
+Before going to sleep, Spurling outlined their work for the morrow.
+
+"Throppy, you and I'll try our luck on Martingale Bank. It's only a
+half-mile northwest of the island, and sometimes you can get a big catch
+there. I've been saving it for a time like this. Budge, you and Percy
+ought to get at least a couple of hundred pounds out of those
+lobster-traps. They'll have been down two days and should yield some
+good-sized ones. Set the clock at four, Filippo! We'll be lazy for
+once."
+
+Percy's sleep was broken. He dreamed of being chased along the main
+street of Vinalhaven by a crowd of small boys shooting at him with Roman
+candles. He dodged into an open doorway, only to be driven out by a
+giant with Jabe's face and a half-dozen pairs of arms the fists of which
+were studded with a double allowance of knuckles. He was fast being
+pounded to a pulp when the alarm-clock went off. He woke in a cold
+sweat.
+
+Lying with closed eyes, he pretended to be asleep while Jim and Throppy
+finished a hasty breakfast. Soon the exhaust of the _Barracouta_
+proclaimed that they were on their way to Martingale Bank. Percy dozed,
+but remained conscious of Filippo's culinary operations.
+
+At five Lane turned out, according to schedule. He shook Percy
+vigorously.
+
+"Wake up, Whittington! Breakfast!"
+
+"Don't care for mine yet."
+
+"Aren't you going out with me to haul those traps?"
+
+"No!" retorted Percy, sourly.
+
+"Suit yourself!" was Lane's brief response.
+
+Percy knew that Budge would rather go without him. He heard him give a
+whistle as he examined Nemo's leg; the animal cringed and whimpered.
+
+"Poor fellow! Too bad!" sympathized Lane.
+
+The remark was evidently intended for Percy's ears. At least the lad
+took it so. He felt sorry if Nemo was really hurt. Lane went out, and
+Percy turned over for another nap. When he next woke it was almost seven
+and the cabin was empty. He got up and dressed leisurely.
+
+Looking out of the window, he saw Filippo digging clams on the flats
+across the cove. That meant chowder for dinner, a dish he particularly
+detested. He made a wry mouth and turned to the larder, but could
+discover nothing but some cold fish and fried potatoes. The fire had
+gone out, and he determined to await Filippo's return before
+breakfasting.
+
+Deliberately scratching a match, he lighted a cigarette, thereby
+breaking the rule against smoking in the cabin. Then he stretched
+himself out on his bunk and began reading _The Three Musketeers_.
+Filippo returned before he had finished his chapter. The Italian's eyes
+grew round at the tobacco smoke.
+
+"You know Misser Jim say no smoking!"
+
+"Mister Jim isn't here now. You mind your own business and I'll mind
+mine. Get me some breakfast, will you?"
+
+"Fire gone out while you sleep and everything grow cold. You bring some
+wood and I build another."
+
+To Percy's still overstrained nerves Filippo's way of putting the matter
+suggested a condition on which the meal depended rather than a request.
+
+"Bring it yourself!" he growled. "I'm no servant! I don't shag kindling
+for any Dago!"
+
+At this insult Filippo's olive cheeks became quite pale. Into his eyes
+flashed a look Whittington had never seen there before. For an instant
+he almost feared that the young foreigner was about to seize a knife
+and spring upon him. Then the look passed and Filippo's color came back.
+
+"All right!" he laughed. "No wood, no breakfast!"
+
+Stepping out to the fish-house, he began shelling the clams he had just
+dug. Percy vacillated between pride and hunger. Hunger won.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"I didn't mean that, Filippo," he repented. "I beg your pardon. I'll get
+the wood."
+
+He did, and Filippo heated up the fish and potatoes. Percy tried to
+engage him in conversation, but was able to extract only monosyllables
+in return. Evidently his hasty words still rankled in the Italian's
+breast.
+
+Breakfast over, Percy took his book and started for the beacon. It was a
+beautiful July morning. The sea rippled blue and sparkling to the
+horizon. Budge was hauling his traps on the ledges around the base of
+Brimstone. A half-mile farther out Jim and Throppy were busy at their
+trawls. Conditions for fishing could not have been more ideal.
+
+For a time Percy tried to read; but somehow Dumas's heroes failed to
+keep his interest. The sense of contrast between his own idleness and
+his mates' industry took all the pleasure out of his book. He tossed it
+aside and stood up. A motor-boat was rounding the eastern point. Percy
+recognized her as the _Calista_. Ordinarily he would have been glad to
+exchange chaff with Captain Higgins and Brad while they dipped the
+lobsters out of the car. This morning, however, he felt too much
+disgruntled to joke with anybody.
+
+A hawk with a flapping fish clutched in its talons scaled in from the
+south and disappeared among the evergreens. Percy suspected that there
+was a nest somewhere in the scrub growth. The search for it promised
+just enough of novelty to keep him interested. Making a detour around
+the north shore, so as to keep out of sight of Captain Higgins, he began
+hunting for the nest in the tops of the low trees.
+
+Two hours went by fruitlessly. It was hot and breathless in the close
+woods. Despite his dislike for clam chowder, Percy found himself
+growing hungry. At last he gave up the search in disgust, and started
+back for camp by the shortest route.
+
+As he emerged into the cool breeze on the summit of the high southern
+shore he saw that the _Calista_ still lay at anchor in the cove. Lane
+was alongside her in the pea-pod, while Jim and Throppy were rounding
+Brimstone Point in the _Barracouta_, with the dory in tow. The keenness
+of Percy's appetite made him careless of whether he was seen or not. He
+took the trail leading along the edge of the pasture. Directly below him
+the bank broke off in an abrupt dirt slope seventy-five feet high,
+overhung by a brow of sagging turf.
+
+Behind and above the cabin the slope was unusually steep. As Percy
+reached this point his eye was caught by a smoke-feather on the southern
+horizon. Steamers always interested him. Stopping, and shading his eyes
+with his hand, he gazed intently at the distant vessel. The _Barracouta_
+was now just entering the cove; the thudding of her exhaust echoed
+loudly against the barrier of earth beneath his feet.
+
+The rapid detonations, beating upon Percy's ear-drums, drowned until too
+late the quick pad-pad of hoofs from the opposite direction. Engrossed
+in watching the steamer, he had forgotten everything else. A nasal,
+threatening bleat, rising suddenly behind, roused him to a sense of
+danger. He whirled about.
+
+Charging straight at him, head down, only a few feet distant, old Aries,
+the ram, spurned the turf with drumming hoofs.
+
+Behind lay the treeless pasture; in front the bank fell away steeply.
+Instant flight along the trail was Percy's only resort. He turned to
+run.
+
+As he jammed his heel down hard to gain momentum for his start, the
+overhanging sod broke suddenly. His foot slumped, and before he could
+recover himself his foe was upon him.
+
+Biff!
+
+Struck from behind with the force of a battering-ram, Percy shot over
+the brink. As he fell he described a partial somersault, landing on
+hands and knees half-way down the slope. His momentum carried him heels
+over head, and he rolled and tumbled the rest of the way, bringing up in
+a heap at the bottom.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+He scrambled to his feet, wild with rage. Peals of mirth from the cove
+reached his ears. His mates and Captain Higgins, as soon as they saw
+that he was not seriously hurt, had doubled up with laughter. Their
+outburst of merriment increased Percy's fury.
+
+A triumphant bleat resounded above. Outlined clearly against a
+background of blue sky, legs well apart and hoofs braced stoutly, Aries
+stood on the brink, gazing proudly down upon his overthrown enemy.
+White with wrath, Percy groped for a stone and launched it viciously. It
+just grazed the ram's head. The laughter from the cove redoubled.
+
+A new idea struck Percy. Darting into the cabin, he ran out with Uncle
+Tom's shot-gun.
+
+"None of that, Whittington!" bellowed Spurling.
+
+Heedless of the shouted command, Percy clapped the gun to his shoulder
+and pulled first one trigger and then the other. Click! Click! Both
+barrels were empty. He might have remembered that so careful a fellow as
+Jim would never leave a loaded gun standing about. But there were a
+half-dozen shells in a box on the shelf. Laying the gun down, he rushed
+back into the cabin.
+
+Spurling realized what Percy was after. Springing into the dory, he
+sculled rapidly to the beach. He had almost reached the shore when
+Whittington dashed out of the door with the shells in his hands. He
+crammed two into the breech, while the ram gazed haughtily down upon
+him.
+
+"Put that gun down!" shouted Jim as the dory grounded and he leaped out
+on the beach.
+
+Up went the weapon to Percy's shoulder. His finger sought the trigger,
+but no report followed. The ram had vanished and the sky-line was
+unbroken.
+
+Before the exasperated lad could decide on his next step Jim was at his
+side, clutching at stock and barrel with strong hands.
+
+"Give it to me!"
+
+There was a short scuffle, and the gun was wrenched from Percy's grasp.
+
+"Let me alone, Spurling! I'll kill that brute before he's ten minutes
+older!"
+
+"Oh no, you won't!" replied Jim, coolly.
+
+Breaking open the weapon, he extracted the shells and dropped them into
+his pocket.
+
+"How many of these did you bring out?"
+
+"Never you mind!"
+
+"Oh, well, I know how many I had. I can count 'em. They're too dangerous
+to be lying around loose where a hothead like you can get hold of 'em."
+
+He took the gun into the cabin. In half a minute he was out again.
+
+"Two missing! Hand 'em over, Whittington!"
+
+"I won't!"
+
+Three steps, marvelously quick for so deliberate a fellow, brought
+Spurling to the other's side. An iron grip compressed Percy's shoulder.
+
+"Will you give 'em to me or shall I have to take 'em? Say quick!"
+
+The strong, unwavering grasp brought Whittington to his senses.
+Thrusting his hand into his pocket, he brought out the shells. "Here
+they are!"
+
+Jim bestowed them carefully inside his coat. His manner changed
+instantly.
+
+"Now, Percy," said he, "pull yourself together! I don't wonder you were
+sore at the ram. What you got was enough to rile anybody; it would have
+set me hunting rocks myself. But you'll have to draw the line a long way
+this side of a gun. You can't blame the brute; it's his nature. And you
+can't blame us for laughing--we couldn't help it; you'd do the same in
+our place. The thing's over now. Forget it! Let's eat a good dinner,
+and all take hold on the fish this afternoon. We've made a whopping big
+catch, not much under three thousand pounds, I should say--enough, at
+any rate, to keep us all busy till dark. Let's bury the hatchet, handle
+and all, so deep that it'll never be dug up again! Shake on it!"
+
+Whittington ignored Jim's outstretched hand. Trembling with humiliation
+and anger, he had all he could do to keep the tears from his eyes.
+Turning away without replying, he walked eastward along the beach to the
+ledges. He clambered over these until he gained a spot out of sight of
+the cove, then threw himself down to think. His hunger had disappeared;
+food would have choked him.
+
+There he lay till the middle of the afternoon, smoking moodily. When he
+returned to camp at three he had decided on his course of action.
+
+All the others were aboard the _Barracouta_, at work on the fish.
+
+Spurling hailed Percy. "Want to lend a hand, Whittington?"
+
+"No!" refused Percy, shortly.
+
+Entering the cabin, he made a dry lunch on cold biscuit and
+soda-crackers, then threw himself on his bunk and began reading. The
+afternoon dragged on. At five Filippo came in and began to peel potatoes
+and slice ham for supper; soon they were frying in the spider. The smell
+was pleasant in Percy's nostrils.
+
+Half an hour later in came the others, tired and hungry. The fish had
+been finished. All sat down at the table, Percy, uninvited, drawing up
+his soap-box with the rest. Nobody said anything to him, but he ate
+with a relish.
+
+The meal over, Spurling turned to him with a serious face. It was plain
+he had something of importance on his mind.
+
+"Whittington," said he, "I've been talking matters over with Budge and
+Throppy, and we're all agreed it's time we came to an understanding.
+Things can't go on in this way any longer. To put the matter in a
+nutshell, we can't afford to have you living off us and not working.
+You've got to do your share or quit. That's all there is to it."
+
+Percy reddened with wrath. Nobody but John P. Whittington had ever dared
+to speak like that to him before.
+
+"What do you mean by making such talk to me?" he demanded. "You needn't
+be afraid but you'll be well paid for every meal I've eaten in this old
+shack!"
+
+"That isn't the point at all," said Spurling. "I gave your father fair
+warning what it would be when you came out here. We're not running any
+Waldorf!"
+
+Percy gave a derisive laugh.
+
+"And that's no dream!" he interjected, sarcastically.
+
+Spurling paid no attention to the interruption.
+
+"We're out here for work," he continued. "That means you as well as
+everybody else. I didn't count on you for much, but you haven't done
+even that."
+
+"I've known for the last week you were trying to freeze me out,"
+observed Percy. "It's been cold enough about this camp to make ice."
+
+"Well, whose fault has it been?"
+
+"You treat that little Dago better than you do me!"
+
+"What of it? He's earning his salt, and a good deal more; and that's
+something your best friend couldn't accuse you of doing."
+
+Percy's temper was fast getting the better of him.
+
+"I'm not going to stop here to be kicked round by a bunch of Rubes like
+you," he snarled. "I won't stand for it any longer. I'll give you ten
+dollars to set me over on Matinicus to-night."
+
+There was a dangerous flicker in Spurling's eyes, but his voice was
+steady.
+
+"You can go, and welcome, on our next trip, day after to-morrow; but we
+can't break into our regular work to set you across."
+
+"No? Say twenty, then! And that's nowhere near what it'd be worth to me
+to be shut of you and your whole gang!"
+
+"I'm beginning to think I did wrong in stopping that fight at Vinalhaven
+yesterday. Guess you needed all you got and more, too!"
+
+In Percy's wrathful condition the reference to the pummeling he had
+received from Jabe came like a dash of acid in a raw wound. A flood of
+fury swept away his judgment.
+
+"You beggar!" he shouted. "You dollar-squeezer! I'll teach you to talk
+to me, you--!"
+
+He flung himself on Spurling with clenched fists.
+
+So sudden and unexpected was the onslaught that there was but one thing
+for Jim to do, and he did it, expeditiously and accurately. Percy went
+over backward and fell like a log. For a moment he lay motionless, then
+staggered up, feeling of his face.
+
+"What hit me?" he inquired, dazedly.
+
+"I did--right on the point of the jaw. Sorry I had to. Feel better?"
+
+Percy made no reply. Walking unsteadily to his bunk, he lay down. There
+was no violin-playing in the cabin that night.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+TURN OF TIDE
+
+
+At half past eight that night Camp Spurling was dark and quiet.
+Everybody was asleep but Percy Whittington. He lay in his bunk, wide
+awake and thinking hard, and his thoughts were far from pleasant.
+
+His face was still sore as a result of his battle with Jabe. His jaw
+ached dully from its encounter with Jim Spurling's fist. But worse than
+any physical pain was the smart of his wounded pride.
+
+Life in that cramped, tarry, fishy cabin was hard enough for a fellow
+who had lived at the best hotels and had the cream of everything. This
+painful wrenching of dollars out of the sea told sorely on his tender
+skin and undeveloped muscles. Yet beneath the surface he had enough of
+his father's stubbornness to make him stick doggedly to his lot,
+disagreeable though it was, if only he could have felt that he was
+receiving the consideration due to the son of John P. Whittington.
+
+Spurling's blow was the straw that had broken the camel's back. Percy
+had endured it just as long as he could. He had reached his limit.
+
+"I hate the whole bunch," he thought, bitterly. "Everybody's down on me,
+even to the dog. I won't stand it any longer. I'm going to get out
+to-night."
+
+His mind once made up, he promptly began planning. He decided to take
+one of the boats and row up to Isle au Haut. It was a good ten miles to
+Head Harbor, but he felt confident he could reach it long before
+daybreak. Leaving the boat there, he would tramp six miles up the island
+and catch the early steamer for Stonington. Beyond that his plans did
+not go.
+
+A flicker of light from the dying fire in the stove fell on the face of
+the alarm-clock ticking tinnily on the shelf. It was quarter to nine.
+
+Percy woke to the need of acting at once. At midnight Filippo would get
+up to make coffee and warm the baked beans and corn-bread for Spurling
+and Stevens, who were to start for the hake-grounds not far from one. By
+that time he must be miles away--too far, at any rate, to be overtaken.
+Overtaken? He smiled sardonically. Not one of them, he knew, would lift
+a finger to prevent him from going. He could just as well set out in the
+daytime. But his pride shrank from the relieved faces and grudging
+farewells that would signalize his departure. No; it would be far better
+to slip away by night, without saying anything to anybody. But his going
+must be unobserved. It would be humiliating to be detected.
+
+Cautiously he crept out of his bunk and pulled on his clothes, stopping
+apprehensively to listen for the regular breathing of his sleeping
+mates. But no one woke. The dying embers snapped in the stove. Nemo,
+slumbering on his canvas, stirred uneasily. Yet, so stealthy were
+Percy's movements, not even the dog's keen ears telegraphed them to his
+alert brain.
+
+A few minutes sufficed for the deserter to dress and crowd his more
+valuable belongings into a suit-case. Noiselessly he lifted the latch
+and stepped outside.
+
+It was a lovely summer night. A southwest breeze barely rippled the
+sheet of sapphire under the radiant stars. Tiny wavelets broke crisply
+on the pebbled beach. From the boulders that fringed the point came the
+drowsy murmur of the surf. A sheep bleated plaintively high above in the
+pasture; while far over the ocean to the south floated the faint, weird
+cry of a gull.
+
+The tide was more than half down, and dory and pea-pod lay high and dry
+on the shingle. The sloop rode at her mooring in the cove. Percy
+hesitated. Her engine would take him to Head Harbor in less than two
+hours, and save him a long, hard row. But no. Her absence would
+interfere seriously with pulling the trawls and lose Spurling & Company
+a good many dollars. Bitter though his feelings were, he did not wish to
+cause financial loss. He decided on the pea-pod.
+
+Ten feet of gravel lay between her stern and the water. Grasping her
+gunwale, Percy dragged her inch by inch gratingly down over the shingle,
+every sound magnified to his ears by his dread of discovery. He worked
+with the caution of an escaping convict. Now and then he glanced
+nervously toward the cabin, but from its gloomy interior came no sign
+that he was seen or heard. Apparently Spurling and his mates were
+sleeping the sleep of the dead. At the end of five minutes the pea-pod
+was afloat.
+
+Percy tossed in his suit-case and clambered hastily aboard. There was no
+time to waste. He wished to put as much salt water as possible between
+himself and Tarpaulin Island before midnight.
+
+Shipping his oars, he began to row, using infinite care lest creaking
+rowlock or splashing blade betray him. Gradually he drew out of the
+cove, and there was less need of caution. As he rounded Brimstone Point
+he cast one last, long look at the cabin, square and black and silent.
+
+The remembrance of his discomforts and indignities of the last three
+weeks surged over him. He shook his fist at his vanishing prison.
+
+"Good riddance!" he muttered. "Hope I'll never set eyes again on you or
+the bunch inside you!"
+
+He bent to his oars with redoubled vigor, and presently a high boulder
+shut out the camp. In five minutes more he had rounded the point and was
+pulling north on the heaving Atlantic swell.
+
+The tide was running out strongly. It came swirling round Brimstone in
+rips and eddies. Percy had never before realized that its force was so
+great. He made a hasty calculation, and was very unpleasantly surprised
+to discover that he would have to pull against it for fully ninety
+minutes ere it turned to run the other way. He began to feel less sure
+of reaching Head Harbor before daybreak.
+
+"Guess I've bitten off an all-night job," thought he, disconsolately.
+
+But there was no help for it--unless he desired to slink back to the
+camp he had just abandoned with such thief-like stealth. Percy set his
+teeth.
+
+"Not while I've got arms to pull with!"
+
+Before buckling to his task he glanced about. On his left rose the
+familiar shores of Tarpaulin. Miles to his right and almost due west the
+twin lights on Matinicus Rock twinkled faintly across the sea; while
+behind him, a little to the west of north, shone the single star of
+Saddleback, a good four leagues away. The dark-blue summer sky, unmarred
+by the slightest cloud-fleck, was brilliant with constellations.
+
+It was a night of nights for an astronomer or a poet, but Percy was
+neither. He had no eyes for the splendor that overhung him. Ten long,
+watery miles must be traversed before he could beach his pea-pod in the
+little haven behind Eastern Head. Would his arms stand the strain?
+
+His muscles were harder and stronger than they had been in the middle of
+June. Likewise, his grit had strengthened with his physique.
+
+"I'll make Head Harbor before light, if it kills me!"
+
+Turning, he scanned the starry sky, and by means of his scanty knowledge
+of astronomy identified the Great Dipper. Its pointers located the North
+Star. Under it he knew lay Isle au Haut, now a low, black ridge on the
+horizon, east of Saddleback Light.
+
+Percy settled himself on the thwart, steeled his muscles, and gripped
+the oars harder. Short as his inaction had been, he could see that the
+tide had swept him back a trifle. It was going to be no picnic, that
+pull in to Eastern Head!
+
+He threw all his strength into his arms, and again the boat made headway
+against the tide. By degrees Tarpaulin Island fell back. Before long it
+lay behind him--as he planned, forever. His anger still burned hot
+against Spurling and his associates.
+
+"Treated me like a dog, the beggars! Well, who cares for 'em? Let 'em
+sweat out their dollars catching fish and lobsters! I'll get my cash
+some easier way."
+
+The thought of money brought back the memory of his father, and with it
+a faint uneasiness. Up to this time, engrossed in making his escape,
+Percy had not troubled to look beyond the immediate future. Isle au Haut
+had bounded his mental as well as his optical horizon. But after that
+what?
+
+Stonington ... Rockland ... Boston ... New York ... two months of living
+on his acquaintances ... and then--John P. Whittington!
+
+Percy could picture the expression on the millionaire's features when he
+learned that his son had broken his promise and sneaked away from
+Tarpaulin Island, like a thief in the night. That grim face with its
+bulldog jaw was one any erring son well might dread, and particularly
+such a son as he had thus far been. John Whittington had told Percy
+plainly that the island was his last chance, and, whatever faults the
+millionaire might have, he was not the man to break his word.
+
+For the young deserter it was liable to be out of the frying-pan and
+into the fire with a vengeance.
+
+Percy had been in the frying-pan three weeks; life there, though not
+pleasant, had been endurable.
+
+At any rate, he had seen the worst of it; but for his wounded pride, he
+could have schooled himself to withstand its hardships, for they would
+have been only temporary.
+
+What the fire might have in store for him he did not know; but one thing
+he did know, and that was John P. Whittington!
+
+Not unimaginably, there might be far worse places than Tarpaulin Island.
+
+The lad's elation at his easily earned freedom vanished. The snap and
+vim went out of his strokes, and his speed slackened perceptibly. Though
+he still dragged doggedly at the oars, there was no longer any heart in
+his pulling.
+
+Westward, almost in line with the beacon on Matinicus Rock, grew a fairy
+pyramid of twinkling lights--the Portland boat, bound for St. John.
+Larger, higher, brighter, nearer, until they burned, a sparkling
+triangle of white and red and green. Soon the steamer crossed his bow
+not far to the north. He could hear the rush of foam and the throbbing
+of her screw. Gradually she passed eastward and blended again with the
+horizon.
+
+Slower and weaker fell Percy's blades, until the pea-pod was barely
+moving. The ebb, still running against the boat with undiminished
+strength, almost sufficed to hold her stationary. But, though the lad's
+muscles were relaxed and listless, a fierce battle was being fought out
+in his troubled brain.
+
+Should he keep on or should he go back?
+
+Go back? Return to two months more of the uncongenial drudgery from
+which he had been so glad to escape? Besides, he could hardly hope to
+drag the pea-pod up on the beach and regain his bunk without attracting
+the notice of somebody in the cabin. He could imagine the talk of the
+others when he was out of hearing.
+
+"Started to run away, but got cold feet and sneaked back again. Hadn't
+the sand to carry it through! We'd better sack him when the four weeks
+are up."
+
+His futile midnight sally would only result in added humiliation.
+
+But what if he kept on? Already more than an hour had passed. It would
+not be many minutes now before the tide would turn. The ebb would cease
+running out, and the flood would set just as strongly the other way,
+bearing him in toward Isle au Haut. To row with it would be an easy
+matter.
+
+Head Harbor before daybreak. Boston or New York the morning after. Two
+months or more of easy living in the same old way. After that the
+deluge, _alias_ John P. Whittington.
+
+Isle au Haut or Tarpaulin Island, which should it be? Beads of sweat
+started on Percy's face as he wrestled out his problem.
+
+Far more was involved than the mere question of going north or south. He
+had come to the parting of the ways. His whole life hung in the balance.
+Floating in that frail skiff on the uneasy swell, he realized that
+everything depended on the direction in which he swung the prow. His
+future lay in his oar-blades.
+
+Under the horizon north and west stretched the coast. He closed his eyes
+and saw a vision of the feverish city life he knew and loved so
+well--lighted streets thronged with gay crowds, human banks between
+which flowed rivers of velvet-shod automobiles and clanging cars; hotel
+lobbies and theaters and restaurants alive with men and women who had
+never stooped to toil; all the luxury and glare and glitter that wait
+upon modern wealth. This was what he was fitting himself for. What did
+it all amount to?
+
+He opened his eyes and came back to the little boat, rocking gently on
+the undulating swells; to the lonely glory of the peaceful ocean, arched
+by the starry sky. A light breeze was beginning to blow from the
+southwest, dispersing the thin silver mist that overhung the water.
+
+Percy glanced at his watch; it was quarter past ten, almost time for the
+ebb to cease and the flood to begin.
+
+Should he keep on or go back? He must decide quickly. Already his arms
+were tired, and he was more than two miles north of the island. The
+longer he delayed his decision the harder would be his pull against the
+flood if he turned.
+
+Minutes passed as he pondered, barely dipping his oars. It was slack
+tide now and the pea-pod just held her own. Down on the breeze floated a
+distant, melancholy note, the voice of the whistling buoy south of
+Roaring Bull Ledge, two miles from Isle au Haut. Was it an invitation or
+a warning?
+
+Slowly at first, then faster, the stern of the boat swung round. The
+tide had turned. The flood would carry him north with but little effort
+on his part. Should he let himself go with it?
+
+Percy's indecision vanished. The tide of his own life had turned, like
+that of the ocean; slow and doubtful though the change had been, the
+current was at last setting the other way. Grasping the oar-handles
+tightly, he whirled the head of the pea-pod southward and started again
+for Tarpaulin Island.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+PULLING TOGETHER
+
+
+The next hour and a half was anything but fun for young Whittington. His
+mind was set on reaching Camp Spurling before the hands of the
+alarm-clock came together at midnight. At any cost he must be in his
+bunk before the others woke.
+
+It was a long, hard row, a battle every second with the tide running
+against him with untiring strength. It demanded every ounce of energy
+Percy possessed. His back complained dully. His arms felt as if they
+would drop off. Time and again he decided that the next stroke must be
+his last, that he must lie down in the bottom of the boat and rest; but
+each time he tapped some hitherto unknown reservoir of power within
+himself, and kept on pulling.
+
+With the stern demand on his physical forces a change was being wrought
+in his brain. His foolish pride, his false sense of shame at changing
+his hasty plan to desert, his bitter feeling toward the others,
+gradually disappeared. Every oar-stroke brought him not only nearer the
+island, but also nearer a sane, wholesome view of life itself.
+
+His thoughts turned naturally to the group at the camp, this clean,
+independent, self-respecting crowd, who cared no more for his money than
+for the pebbles on the beach; who estimated a fellow, not by what he
+had, but by what he was. After all, that was the real test; Percy could
+not help acknowledging it.
+
+Saddleback glimmered astern. The whistle south of Roaring Bull was
+growing fainter. Percy felt encouraged. He turned his head. Yes,
+Tarpaulin was certainly nearer. Disheartening though the pull was, he
+had gained perceptibly. But the southwest breeze had stiffened, adding
+its opposition to that of the tide.
+
+It was now past eleven. He had decided that he must reach the cabin not
+later than quarter to twelve. Barely half an hour longer! His hands were
+blistered, his breath came in sobs, but he dragged fiercely at the oars.
+At last he was stemming the strong tide-rip off Brimstone Point.
+
+The next ten minutes were worse than all that had gone before. As he
+surged unevenly backward and forward, the current swung the pea-pod's
+bow first one way, then the other. Deaf and blind to everything but the
+work in hand, Percy swayed to and fro. Foot by foot the boat crept round
+the fringing surf at the base of the bluffs.
+
+Hands seemed to be plucking at her keel, holding her back. It was no
+use. They were too strong for him. All at once their grasp weakened. He
+glanced up with swimming eyes. He had passed the eddy, and the entrance
+of the cove was near. A few strokes more and the pea-pod grounded on the
+beach. It was twenty minutes to twelve!
+
+Percy staggered up to the cabin. All was dark and quiet. Gently lifting
+the latch, he slipped inside, pulled the door to again, and stood
+listening. The regular breathing of his sleeping mates reassured him.
+Compelling himself to walk noiselessly to his bunk, he crept under his
+blanket without even taking off his shoes.
+
+He had been gone three hours; and they had been the most momentous hours
+of his life.
+
+_Kling-ng-ng-ng-ng ..._
+
+Off went the clock. It was midnight. Muttering drowsily, Filippo slid
+out of his bunk, checked the alarm, and lighted a lamp. Then he busied
+himself with his cooking-utensils.
+
+The last thing Percy heard was a spoon clinking against a pan. Dead
+tired, he turned his face to the wall and fell asleep.
+
+It was eight in the morning before he woke. What had made his arms and
+back so lame and raised those big blisters on his hands? Percy
+remembered. He lay for a few minutes, his eyes shut. An unpleasant duty
+was before him, and he must be sure to do it right.
+
+Aching in every joint, he rolled out at last and stood up stiffly.
+Filippo, who was washing the breakfast dishes, turned at the sound. His
+face was neither hostile nor friendly.
+
+"Your breakfast in oven," said he. "Sit down and I get it."
+
+He set before Percy a plate of smothered cod and a half-dozen hot
+biscuits. It was more thoughtfulness than Percy had expected.
+
+"Much obliged, Filippo," he said, gratefully.
+
+Filippo made no reply to this acknowledgment; but, as Percy ate, he
+could feel the young Italian watching him curiously. It was the first
+time Whittington had ever thanked him, and he did not understand it.
+
+After he had finished eating, Percy took his plate, knife, and fork to
+the sink.
+
+"Let me wash these, Filippo," he said.
+
+"No," returned the Italian, "I do it."
+
+But a look of surprise crossed his face. What had come over the
+millionaire's son?
+
+Percy spent the rest of the forenoon on the ledges. At noon he came back
+to the cabin. He had steeled himself for the task before him, and he was
+not the fellow to do things half-way. The John P. Whittington in him was
+coming out.
+
+Everybody else was in camp when he stepped inside. Lane did not look at
+him at all. Spurling and Stevens nodded coolly. Percy drew a long breath
+and launched at once into the brief speech he had spent the last three
+hours dreading.
+
+"Fellows," he stammered, "I've been pretty rotten to all of you. There's
+no need of wasting any more words about that. Last night I took one of
+the boats and started to row up to Isle au Haut. But I got to thinking
+matters over out there on the water, and it changed my mind about a lot
+of things. So I came back. Jim, I want to apologize to you for what I
+said last night. I deserved what you gave me, and it's done me good. I
+want to stay here with you for the rest of the summer--if you're
+willing. I'll try to do my full share of the work. You can send me off
+the first time I shirk."
+
+He ceased and awaited the verdict, looking eagerly from one to the
+other. There was a moment of silence. Surprise was written large on the
+faces of the three Academy men. Then Spurling stepped forward and held
+out his hand.
+
+"Percy," said he, with a break in his voice, "I've always thought you
+had the right stuff in you, if you'd only give yourself half a chance.
+For one, I'll be more than pleased to have you stop. What do you say,
+boys?"
+
+He glanced toward Lane and Stevens.
+
+"Sure!" exclaimed Lane, heartily; and Stevens seconded him.
+
+The boys shook hands all round; and they sat down to the table with good
+appetites. Everybody enjoyed the meal.
+
+"Boys," said Jim as they got up at its close, "this is the best dinner
+we've had since we came out here."
+
+Percy's heart warmed toward the speaker. He knew that it was not the
+food alone that made Jim say what he did.
+
+It had been Percy's habit to smoke three or four cigarettes during the
+half-hour of rest all were accustomed to take after the noon meal. He
+went, as usual, to his suit-case, and this time took out, not merely one
+package, but all he had, including his sack of loose tobacco and two
+books of wrappers.
+
+"Got a good fire, Filippo?" he inquired, approaching the stove.
+
+A burst of flame answered him as he lifted the cover. In went the whole
+handful. He watched it burn for a moment before dropping the lid.
+
+"I'm done with you for good," he said.
+
+As Lane and Spurling started for the _Barracouta_ to dress the fifteen
+hundred pounds of hake they had taken off the trawls that morning Percy
+joined them, clad in oilskins.
+
+"Jim," he petitioned, "I want you to teach me how to split fish."
+
+"Do you mean it, Percy?" asked Spurling.
+
+"You heard what I said this noon about shirking. I'm through with
+dodging any kind of work just because it's unpleasant. I want to take my
+part with the rest of you."
+
+"I'll teach you," said Jim.
+
+He did, and found that he had an apt pupil. Percy worked until the last
+pound of the fifteen hundred was salted down in the hogshead. He
+discovered that it was not half so bad as it had looked, and felt
+ashamed that he had not tried his hand at the trick before.
+
+"You've earned your supper to-night," observed Jim.
+
+"Yes; but I'm glad it's something besides fish."
+
+"You'll get so you won't mind it after a while."
+
+That night Throppy played his violin and the boys sang. They passed a
+pleasant hour before going to bed.
+
+"I'd like to go out with you to the trawls, Jim, to-morrow morning,"
+said Percy.
+
+"Glad to have you," responded Spurling, heartily.
+
+Two hours before light they were gliding out of the cove in the
+_Barracouta_, bound for Medrick Shoal, four miles to the eastward.
+
+"Percy," said Jim as the sloop rolled rhythmically on the long Atlantic
+swells, "I want to tell you something. I was awake the other night when
+you left camp. I watched you row north and come back; and I saw the
+hard fight you had round Brimstone. I'm glad you made a clean breast of
+the whole thing, even when you thought nobody knew anything about it. It
+showed me you intended to turn over a new leaf and play fair. You'll
+find that we'll meet you half-way, and more."
+
+Percy was silent for a moment.
+
+"Glad I didn't know you heard me go out," he remarked. "If I had I might
+not have had the courage to come back. Well, I've learned my lesson.
+From now on I'll try not to give you fellows any reason to find fault
+with me."
+
+Medrick Shoal yielded a good harvest. About eighteen hundred pounds of
+hake lay in the pens on the _Barracouta_ when they started for home at
+ten o'clock. As they took the last of their gear aboard, a schooner with
+auxiliary power, apparently a fisherman, approached from the eastward.
+
+"The _Cassie J._," read Spurling, deciphering the letters on the bow.
+"Somehow she looks natural, but I don't remember ever hearing that name
+before. Probably from Gloucester. Wonder what she wants of us."
+
+The vessel slowed down and changed her course until she was running
+straight toward the _Barracouta_. One of her crew stood in the bow, near
+the starboard anchor; another held the wheel; but nobody else was
+visible.
+
+"Where are you from, boys?" hailed the lookout, when the stranger was
+only a few yards off.
+
+"Tarpaulin Island," answered Spurling.
+
+The man put his hand behind his ear.
+
+"Say that again louder, will you?" he shouted. "I'm a little deaf."
+
+Jim raised his voice.
+
+"I said we were from Tarpaulin Island."
+
+The lookout passed the word back to the helms-man. The latter repeated
+it, evidently for the benefit of somebody in the cabin. Then the man at
+the wheel took up the conversation, prompted by the low voice of an
+unseen speaker below.
+
+"How many fish have you got there?"
+
+"Eighteen hundred of hake."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+Was everybody aboard hard of hearing? Jim raised his voice.
+
+"Eighteen hundred of hake!"
+
+"What'll you take for 'em just as they are? We'll give you fifty cents a
+hundred."
+
+"Can't trade with you for any such figure as that."
+
+"Good-by, then!"
+
+The tip of the _Cassie J.'s_ bowsprit was less than two yards from the
+port bow of the _Barracouta_, altogether too near for comfort.
+
+"Keep off!" roared Spurling. "You'll run us down!"
+
+The steersman whirled his wheel swiftly in the apparent endeavor to
+avert a collision. Unluckily, he whirled it the wrong way. Round swung
+the schooner's bow, directly toward the sloop. A few seconds more and
+she would be forced down beneath the larger vessel's cutwater, ridden
+under.
+
+Only Jim's coolness prevented the catastrophe. The instant he saw the
+_Cassie J._ turn toward his boat he flung his helm to port. The sloop,
+under good headway, responded more quickly than the schooner. For a
+moment the bowsprit of the latter seesawed threateningly along the
+jibstay of the smaller craft. Then the two drew apart.
+
+Jim was white with anger. It was only by the greatest good fortune that
+the _Barracouta_ had escaped.
+
+"What do you mean, you lubber?" he cried. "Can't you steer?"
+
+"Jingo! but that was a close shave!" responded the man at the wheel. "I
+must have lost my head for a minute."
+
+The mock concern in his face and voice would have been evident to
+Spurling without the lurking grin that accompanied his reply. An angry
+answer was on the tip of Jim's tongue. He choked it down. Soon the two
+craft were some distance apart.
+
+On the _Cassie J._ a man's head rose stealthily above the slide of the
+companionway. He fastened a steady gaze on the sloop. The distance was
+now too great for the boys to distinguish his features, but a sudden
+idea struck Jim. He slapped his thigh.
+
+"Percy!" he exclaimed. "Do you remember the two fellows we caught
+stealing sheep the first night we were on Tarpaulin? I feel sure as ever
+I was of anything in my life that they're both on board that schooner.
+That's Captain Bart Brittler, sticking his head out of the companionway;
+and Dolph's somewhere below."
+
+"But what are they doing on the _Cassie J._? Their vessel was named the
+_Silicon._"
+
+"They're one and the same craft! I'm certain of it. I recognize her rig
+now, even if it was night when I saw her the first time. As for the
+name, it's only paint-deep, anyway; you can see that those letters look
+fresh. Of course it's an offense against the law to make a change, but
+such a little thing as breaking a law wouldn't trouble a man like
+Brittler."
+
+"Do you think they tried to run us down?"
+
+"Not a doubt of it! Brittler and Dolph stayed below, afraid we might
+recognize 'em. They didn't see our faces that night, so they don't know
+how we look; but they tried to make me talk enough so that they might
+recognize my voice. Guess that lookout's not so deaf as he pretended to
+be! Once Brittler felt sure who it was, he gave orders to the wheelman
+to run over us. He'd have done it, too, if I hadn't seen the schooner's
+bow start swinging the wrong way."
+
+The _Cassie J._ slowly outdistanced the sloop. By the time the stranger
+was a quarter-mile off six or seven men had appeared on her deck.
+
+"Feel it's safe for 'em to come up now," commented Spurling. "Wonder
+what they're cruising along the coast for, anyway! Something easier and
+more crooked than fishing, I guess! Here's hoping they steer clear of
+Tarpaulin!"
+
+At dinner that noon the boys related their narrow escape to the others,
+and all agreed it would be well to keep a sharp lookout for Brittler and
+his gang.
+
+"They've got a grudge against us, fast enough," said Lane. "They intend
+to even matters up if they can find the chance."
+
+That afternoon Percy again wielded the splitting-knife.
+
+"You'll soon get the knack of it," approved Jim. "Don't pitch in too
+hard at first. Later on, after you grow used to it, you can work twice
+as fast, and it won't tire you half so much."
+
+In dressing a fifteen-pound hake Percy came upon a mass of feathers in
+the stomach. He was about to throw them aside, when a silvery glint
+caught his eye.
+
+"What's that?" he exclaimed.
+
+Rinsing the mass in a pail of water, he picked from it the foot of a
+bird; round its slender ankle was a little band of German silver or
+aluminum, bearing the inscription, "U43719." He held it up for the
+others to inspect.
+
+"That's the foot of a carrier-pigeon!" said Throppy. "I know a fellow at
+home who makes a specialty of raising 'em. The bird that owned this foot
+was taking a message to somebody. Perhaps he was shot; or he may have
+become tired, lost his way, and fallen into the water, and the hake got
+him."
+
+They looked at the little foot with the white-metal band.
+
+"My uncle Tom was fishing once in eighty fathoms off Monhegan," Spurling
+remarked, "and pulled up an odd-patterned, blue cup of old English ware.
+The hook caught in a 'blister,' a brown, soft, toadstool thing, that had
+grown over the cup. He's got it on his parlor mantel now."
+
+"I'll keep this foot as a souvenir," said Percy.
+
+They finished the hake shortly after four. Percy shed his oil-clothes,
+went into the camp, and reappeared with his sweater. Going down to the
+ledges, he pulled off a big armful of rockweed. This he stuffed into
+the sweater, and tied it together, making a close bundle. The others
+watched him curiously.
+
+"What are you going to do with that?" inquired Lane.
+
+Percy smiled, but there was a glitter of determination in his eyes.
+
+"I'll tell you some time," was all the reply he vouchsafed.
+
+Taking the bundle, now somewhat larger than a football, he climbed the
+steep path at the end of the bank, and started for the woods.
+
+"I'll be home before supper," he flung back as he disappeared beyond the
+crest of the bluff.
+
+In less than an hour he was back, bringing the sweater minus the
+rockweed. His face was flushed, and streaked with lines where the
+perspiration had run down it, and he was breathing hard. Evidently he
+had been through some sort of strenuous physical exercise.
+
+"It's all right, boys," he said, in response to their chaffing. "Just a
+little secret between me and myself. No, I'm not trying to reduce the
+size of my head. Later on you'll know all about it."
+
+And with that they had to be content.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+FOG-BOUND
+
+
+Dog-Days began about the 20th of July. Before that the dwellers in Camp
+Spurling had experienced occasional spells of fog, but nothing very
+dense or long-continued. Now they got a taste of the real thing. They
+were dressing fish on the _Barracouta_ one afternoon when a cold wind
+struck from the southeast.
+
+Spurling held up his hand.
+
+"We're in for it!" said he. "Feel that? Right off the Banks! In less
+than an hour we'll need a compass to get ashore in the dory."
+
+He was so nearly right that there was no fun in it. The wind hauled more
+to the east, and in its wake came driving a gray, impenetrable wall. The
+ocean vanished. The points on each side of the cove were swallowed up.
+Quickly disappeared the cove itself, the beach, the camp and fish-house,
+and the bank beyond them. The sloop was blanketed close in heavy mist.
+
+Jim made a pretense of scooping a handful out of the air and shaping it
+like a snowball.
+
+"Here you go, Budge!" he exclaimed. "Straight to third! Put it on him!
+Fresh from the factory in the Bay of Fundy! If this holds on until
+midnight, we won't be able to see outside our eyelids when we start
+trawling; there's no moon."
+
+"Will you go, if it's thick as it is now?" inquired Lane.
+
+"Sure! Here's where the compass comes in. If we stayed ashore for every
+little fog-mull, we wouldn't catch many hake the next six weeks. This
+isn't a circumstance to what it is sometimes. I've known it to hang on
+for two weeks at a stretch. Ever hear the story of the Penobscot Bay
+captain who started out on a voyage round the world? Just as he got
+outside of Matinicus Rock he shaved the edge of a fog-bank, straight up
+and down as a wall. He pulled out his jack-knife and pushed it into the
+fog, clean to the handle. When he came back, two and a half years later,
+there was his knife, sticking in the same spot. He tried to pull it out,
+but the blade was so badly rusted that it broke, and he had to leave
+half of it stuck in the hole."
+
+"Must have had some fog in those days!" was Lane's comment. "Did you say
+this all comes from the Bay of Fundy?"
+
+"Not all of it. Fog both blows and makes up on the spot. Sometimes it
+rises out of the water like steam. I've heard my uncle say that Georges
+Bank makes it as a mill makes meal. It's worst in August. Then the smoke
+from shore fires mingles with it; and the wind from the land blowing
+off, and that from the sea blowing in, keep it hazy along the coast all
+summer."
+
+Jim's predictions proved correct, as they generally did. While there
+were occasional stretches of fine weather during the next few weeks, the
+fog either hovered on the horizon or lurked not far below it, ready to
+bury the island at the slightest provocation in the way of an east or
+southeast wind. Despite its presence, the routine of trawling and
+lobstering went on as usual. Every Friday came the regular trip to
+Matinicus to dispose of the salted fish and procure groceries, gasolene,
+and salt, as well as newspapers and mail.
+
+On each of these visits Percy always weighed himself on the scales at
+the general store. Beginning at one hundred and thirty-five, he climbed
+steadily, pound by pound, toward one hundred and fifty. An active,
+out-of-door life, combined with regular hours and a simple, wholesome
+diet, together with the exclusion of cigarettes, resulted inevitably in
+increasing weight and strength. At the close of each afternoon he
+climbed the bluff with his sweater stuffed with rockweed. The others
+joked him considerably about these mysterious trips, but failed to
+extract any information from him regarding them. When he chose, Percy
+could be as close-mouthed as his father.
+
+At about this time a letter from the millionaire reached his son through
+the Matinicus office. It bore the postmark of San Francisco, and ran as
+follows:
+
+    DEAR PERCY,--Stick to it.
+
+    Affectionately,
+
+    JOHN P. WHITTINGTON.
+
+It actually surprised Percy to find out how glad he was to receive this
+laconic epistle from his only living relative. He cast about for a
+suitable reply.
+
+"I want to send something that'll please him," he thought. "He hasn't
+had much satisfaction, so far, out of me."
+
+Finally, after mature deliberation, he indited the following:
+
+    DEAR DAD,--I'm sticking.
+
+    Your affectionate son,
+
+    PERCY.
+
+_The Three Musketeers_ gathered dust on the wooden shelf. Percy had
+faced squarely the fact of his college conditions, and had determined
+that they must be made up at the opening of the fall term; so his spare
+time went into Virgil and Caesar and algebra and geometry, instead of
+being spent on Dumas. He rarely asked for assistance from the others;
+they had little leisure, and it was his own fight. He buckled down
+manfully.
+
+Another task that he set before himself was the establishment of cordial
+relations with the other members of the party. He realized that his own
+fault had made this necessary. It had been an easy matter to get on good
+terms with Jim, Budge, and Throppy. With Filippo it was a little harder;
+but soon he, too, thawed out when he found that Percy treated him
+courteously and was willing to do his share of the camp work. Even Nemo
+wagged his tail when Percy appeared, and the crow grew tame enough to
+eat fish out of his hand.
+
+One afternoon, when the fog had lifted sufficiently to make it possible
+to see a few hundred feet from the island, a motor-boat unexpectedly
+appeared from the north and swung round Brimstone Point into the cove.
+She ran up alongside the _Barracouta_, where the boys were baiting their
+trawl.
+
+"I'm the warden," said one of the two newcomers, a gray-mustached,
+keen-eyed man. "I've come to look over your car."
+
+Jim took his dip-net and stepped into the motor-boat, and they ran up to
+the lobster-car. A few minutes' investigation of its contents satisfied
+the official that it contained no "shorts."
+
+"Glad to be able to give you a clean bill of health," said he as he set
+Jim back on board the sloop. "I wish some other people I know of did
+business as clean and aboveboard as you young fellows."
+
+A quarter-hour later the sound of his exhaust had died away in the fog
+to the northward.
+
+"What would he have done if he'd found any 'shorts'?" asked Percy.
+
+"Fined us a dollar for every one," answered Jim. "Taken the cream off
+the summer, wouldn't it? Sometimes it pays, even in dollars and cents,
+to be honest."
+
+The next morning was hot and muggy. The sea about the island was clear
+of fog for one or two miles. Jim and Budge had started long before light
+to set the trawl, and Throppy wished to make some changes on his
+wireless; so Filippo was glad enough of the chance to go out with Percy
+to haul the lobster-traps.
+
+The little Italian had lost much of his melancholy. He enjoyed his work
+and the good-fellowship of the camp. The weeks of association with his
+new friends had made of him an entirely different fellow from the
+lonely, homesick lad they had picked up on the steamboat wharf at
+Stonington.
+
+The two boys started in the pea-pod at six o'clock. A glassy calm
+overspread the sea. Even the perpetual ocean swell seemed to have lost
+much of its force.
+
+"I'll row!" volunteered Percy.
+
+He stripped off his oil-coat and sweater and rolled up his
+shirt-sleeves.
+
+"It'll be hot up in the granite quarries to-day, hey, Filippo? S'pose
+you're sorry not to be there?"
+
+"_Io sono contento_" ("I am satisfied"), replied the Italian.
+
+Hauling and rebaiting the hundred-odd traps was a good five hours' job
+and more for the couple, neither of whom had ever handled a small boat
+or seen a live lobster before the previous month. As the forenoon
+advanced the air seemed to grow thicker and more breathless. Over the
+water brooded a languid haze, through which the sun rays burned with a
+moist, intense heat.
+
+Percy's bare arms began to grow red and painful.
+
+"Feel as if they were being scalded," he complained. "I've heard Jim say
+a fog-burn was worse than any other kind. Now I know he's right."
+
+Eleven o'clock, and still twenty-five traps to be pulled. Most of these
+were on the Dog and Pups, a group of ledges more than a mile northeast
+of the island. It was the best spot for lobsters anywhere about
+Tarpaulin. Percy hesitated.
+
+"Fog seems to be closing in a little," he observed, "and we haven't any
+compass. Should hate to get out there and have it shut down thick.
+Might be hard work to find the island again."
+
+He glanced at the tub of lobsters.
+
+"If the Dog and Pups keep up anywhere near their average, we'll beat the
+record. What d'you say, Filippo? Shall we take a chance and surprise the
+rest of 'em?"
+
+Filippo flashed his white teeth.
+
+"I go with you," he smiled.
+
+"Then go it is!" decided Percy.
+
+He headed the pea-pod for the Dog and Pups.
+
+"We'll keep a sharp lookout, and if it starts to grow anyways thick
+we'll strike back for old Tarpaulin."
+
+A pull of about twenty minutes brought them to the ledges, around which
+the traps were set in a circle. They began hauling at the point in the
+circumference nearest to the island, following the buoys west and north.
+The catch exceeded their hopes.
+
+"We'll need another tub, if this keeps up," chuckled Percy.
+
+Filippo laughed jubilantly. The fog was forgotten. Their entire
+attention was centered on the contents of each trap as it was pulled.
+
+Round on the edge of the circle farthest from the island a pot refused
+to leave bottom. Percy tugged till he was red in the face, but he could
+not start it.
+
+"Catch hold with me, Filippo!" he puffed.
+
+The Italian joined his strength to Percy's, but to no avail. The slacker
+still clung to the bottom. The boys straightened up, panting.
+
+"We'll have to leave it," acknowledged Percy, disappointedly. "Probably
+there's half a dozen two-pound lobsters in it."
+
+He looked about and gave a startled cry.
+
+"Where's the island?"
+
+The wooded bluffs of Tarpaulin had disappeared. While they had been
+wrestling with the stubborn trap the fog had stolen a march on them. On
+all sides loomed a horizon of gray mist, not a half-mile distant and
+steadily drawing nearer. They must locate the island and get back to it
+at once.
+
+Percy tossed over the buoy and the warp at which they had been pulling.
+Tarpaulin lay southwest; but which way was southwest? Busied with the
+trap, he had utterly lost all sense of direction. The sun? He glanced
+hopefully up. No; that would not help any. The fog was too dense. Ha!
+The surf?
+
+"Listen hard, Filippo!" he exhorted.
+
+They strained their ears. No sound. The swell was so gentle that it did
+not break on the ledges of the island loudly enough to be heard a mile
+and a quarter off. The heaving circle of which they were the center was
+contracting fast. Its misty walls were now less than five hundred feet
+away.
+
+"Guess we'd better take a buoy aboard, and hang to it till Jim comes out
+to hunt us up. It'd make me feel cheap to do it, but it's the only safe
+way. But wait! What's that?"
+
+Both listened again. A sound reached their ears, plain and unmistakable,
+the rote of dashing water.
+
+"There's the surf!" rejoiced Percy. "Don't you hear it?"
+
+"_Si_, I hear it," answered Filippo.
+
+Dropping the buoy he had just gaffed, Percy took the oars and began
+rowing hard toward the sound, which gradually grew louder. The fog came
+on with a rush, sliding over them like an avalanche. It was hardly
+possible to see beyond the tips of the oar-blades.
+
+"Lucky we can hear that surf!" said Percy, comfortably. "But strange it
+sounds so loud and so near."
+
+Now it was close ahead. He stopped rowing, puzzled. A blast of cold air
+smote them. Suddenly there was a rushing all around. It was not the surf
+at all, but waves, breaking before the coming wind. They were lost in
+the fog!
+
+Percy faced Filippo blankly. For a moment his head went round. With
+bitter regret he now realized that in dropping the buoy he had given up
+a certainty for an uncertainty that might cost them dearly. But nothing
+was to be gained by yielding to discouragement. He reviewed his scanty
+stock of sea lore.
+
+"That wind is probably blowing from some point between northeast and
+southeast. If we turn around, and run straight before it, we'll be
+likely to hit the island."
+
+He swung the pea-pod stern to the breeze.
+
+"Here goes! Watch out sharp for lobster-buoys, Filippo!"
+
+But no buoys appeared. They might pass within ten feet of one and never
+see it. Five, ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed; and still no sign of
+Tarpaulin. The wind was becoming stronger, the waves higher; their
+rushing was now loud enough to drown the sound of any surf that might be
+breaking on the ledges of the island. Percy rowed for a quarter-hour
+longer, dread plucking at his heart-strings. At last he rested on his
+oars.
+
+"We've missed it," he acknowledged, despondently.
+
+They were lost now in good earnest. It was one o'clock. The fog hung
+over them like a heavy gray pall, so damp and thick that it was almost
+stifling. Percy turned the pea-pod bow to the wind and began rowing
+again.
+
+"We must try to hold our own till it clears up," he observed, with
+attempted cheerfulness.
+
+But his tones lacked conviction. It might not clear for two or three
+days. By degrees his strokes lost their force, until the oars were
+barely dipping. The boat was going astern fast.
+
+Two o'clock. Long ere this Jim and Budge must have returned from
+trawling and realized that the pea-pod and its occupants were lost. They
+were probably searching for them now, perhaps miles away on the other
+side of the island, wherever it might be.
+
+A gruff bark startled them. A round, black, whiskered head suddenly
+thrust up out of the water close to the port gunwale. Filippo cried out
+in alarm, but Percy reassured him.
+
+"Only a seal!"
+
+Abruptly the sea grew rough. All around them tossed and streamed and
+writhed long, black aprons of kelp. They were passing over a sunken
+ledge. Soon it lay behind them; the kelp vanished and the waves grew
+lower.
+
+Three o'clock went by; then four. The afternoon was waning. The thick,
+woolly gray that surrounded them assumed a more somber shade. Night was
+coming, pitchy and starless, doubly so for the two lost boys, adrift on
+the open ocean.
+
+Hark! What was that? They both heard it, far distant, off the port bow!
+Percy leaped up in excitement.
+
+"The shot-gun!" he cried. "They're signaling!"
+
+Heading the boat toward the sound, he rowed his hardest, while Filippo
+strained forward, listening. Ten minutes dragged by, and once
+again--_pouf!_--slightly louder, and slightly to starboard. Percy
+corrected his course and again threw his whole heart into his rowing.
+
+So it went for an hour, the signals sounding at ten-minute intervals,
+each louder and nearer than the one before. At last Percy thought it
+possible that their voices might be heard against the wind. He stopped
+rowing.
+
+"Now shout, Filippo!"
+
+Their cries pealed out together. They were heard. An answering hail came
+back. Soon the puff-puff-puff of the _Barracouta's_ exhaust was driving
+rivets through the fog. A little later they were on board the sloop,
+answering the inquiries of Jim and Budge, while the empty pea-pod towed
+astern.
+
+"Your seamanship wasn't bad, Perce," was Jim's judgment. "After you
+dropped the buoy, and then found you'd been rowing into the teeth of the
+wind, it might have been better to have tried only to hold your own
+until we came out to look you up. That breeze at first was nearer north
+than northeast, and when you ran before it you went south past the
+island. After that you were all at sea. But I might have done just the
+same thing. I can't tell you, though, how glad we are to see you back,
+even if it did cost next to our last shell of birdshot. The Gulf of
+Maine's a pretty homesick place to be kicking round in on a foggy
+night."
+
+"You aren't any gladder than we are," replied Percy.
+
+He glanced at the pea-pod towing astern.
+
+"But say, Jim! Just cast your eye over that tub. When it comes to
+catching lobsters, haven't Filippo and I got the rest of the bunch beat
+to a frazzle?"
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+SWORDFISHING
+
+
+All through July the Tarpaulin Islanders had been troubled with dogfish.
+Beginning with a few scattering old "ground dogs," which apparently live
+on the banks the year round, they had become more and more numerous as
+the month advanced. Bait was stripped from the hooks; fish on the trawl
+were devoured until only heads and backbones were left; and the robbers
+themselves were caught in increasing numbers. At last their depredations
+became unbearable.
+
+Jim and Percy had made a set one foggy morning on Medrick Shoal. When
+the trawl came up it was a sight to make angels weep. For yards at a
+stretch the hooks were bare or bitten off. Then came "dogs" of all sizes
+from "garter-dogs," or "shoe-strings," a foot long, to full-grown
+ten-pounders of about a yard. Mingled with them was an occasional
+lonesome skeleton of a haddock, cusk, or hake.
+
+"Look at the pirate!" said Jim.
+
+Grasping a ganging well above the hook, he held the fish up for Percy's
+inspection. It was two feet long, of a dirty gray color, slim,
+shark-shaped, with mouth underneath. Before each of the two fins on its
+back projected a sharp horn.
+
+"Think of buying perfectly good herring at Vinalhaven, and freighting
+'em way down here to feed a thing like that!" mourned Jim. "He's the
+meanest thief that ever grew fins. Swims too slow to catch a fish that's
+free; but good-by to anything that's hooked, if he's round. He'll gouge
+out a piece as big as a baseball at every bite. I'd hate to fall
+overboard in a school of 'em."
+
+"Don't touch him!" he warned, hastily, as Percy reached out an
+investigating hand. "He'll stick those horns into you, and they're rank
+poison."
+
+"Aren't dogfish good for anything?" asked Percy.
+
+"Not a thing! No, I'll take that back. They can be ground up for
+fertilizer; their livers are full of oil; and their skin makes the
+finest kind of sandpaper for cleaning or polishing metal without
+scratching it. They've been canned, too, under the name of grayfish; but
+no fisherman'd ever eat 'em; he knows 'em too well."
+
+Rod after rod of trawl yielded the same results.
+
+"I'm almost tempted to save my buoys and anchors, and cut all the rest
+away," announced Jim in disgust. "I've known it to be done. They wear
+the line out, sawing across it. But I guess the best way is to save what
+we can and stop fishing for a while. Sometimes they come square-edged,
+like a stone wall, just as they have this morning; and in a few days
+they'll have gone somewhere else. Hope it'll be that way this time!"
+
+It was almost noon before the whole trawl was aboard. It had yielded
+barely two hundred pounds of hake.
+
+"Tell you what!" exclaimed Jim as he looked at his compass and headed
+the _Barracouta_ westward through the fog for home, "we'll put the trawl
+in the house for a few days, and fit up for swordfishing. There's a good
+ground fifteen miles south of the island. I've been down there with
+Uncle Tom. If we could get some fair-sized fish, it'd be worth our while
+to take 'em into Rockland."
+
+That afternoon they mustered their swordfish gear. In the house were
+three or four of the wrecked coaster's mast-hoops. One of these Jim
+lashed to the sloop's jibstay, about waist-high above the end of the
+bowsprit.
+
+"That'll do for the pulpit!"
+
+Near the jaws of the gaff he nailed a little board seat, rigged like a
+bracket on a roof for shingling. On this the lookout could sit, his arm
+round the mast, watching for fins.
+
+"Now for a harpoon!"
+
+Across the rafters inside the house lay a hard-pine pole eighteen feet
+long, ending in a tapering two-foot iron. Strung on a fish-line hanging
+from a spike were a half-dozen swordfish darts. These were sharp, stubby
+metal arrows, all head and tail and no body, with a socket cast on one
+side to admit the top of the pole-iron. Back of the arrow-head was a
+hole, through which was fastened the buoy-line.
+
+"Righto!" exclaimed Jim. "Now when the fog clears we'll be ready to do
+business."
+
+That very night the mists scaled away before a brisk north wind. Morning
+showed the sea clear for miles, though a fleecy haze still blurred the
+southern and eastern horizon.
+
+"We'll take this chance," decided Jim. "May not get a better. Remember
+it's dog-days!"
+
+At five o'clock they started south. Before eight they were on the
+swordfish-grounds. The wind, blowing against the long ocean swell,
+raised a fairly heavy sea. Though the day was clear, they could still
+feel the fog in the air.
+
+Jim allotted the company their several stations.
+
+"Budge, you swarm up to that seat on the gaff and watch out for fins!
+Throppy, you steer as Budge tells you! Stand by to take the dory, Perce,
+and go after any fish I'm lucky enough to iron. Filippo, be ready to
+throw that buoy and coil of warp off the starboard bow the minute I make
+a strike. I'll get out in the pulpit with the harpoon. Keep alive,
+everybody! We're liable to run across something any minute."
+
+Perched aloft, Budge scanned the tossing, glittering sea. His keen eye
+detected a triangular, black membrane steering leisurely through the
+waves a hundred yards ahead.
+
+"Fin on the starboard bow! Keep her off, Throppy!"
+
+In a short time the _Barracouta_ was close behind the unconscious fish.
+
+From the bowsprit end burst a shout of disgust:
+
+"No good! I can see him plain! Tail's too limber! Only a shark! Swing
+her off, Throppy!"
+
+"How can I tell a shark from a swordfish?" Budge called down to Jim.
+
+"Shark's back fin is shorter and broader, and he keeps his tail-fluke
+whacking from side to side. Swordfish has two steady fins, stiff as
+shingles; front one is long and slender and curves back on a crook; the
+after one is the upper tail-fluke. Try again!"
+
+Five minutes passed. Then an excited yell:
+
+"Fin to port!"
+
+Following Budge's shouted directions, the sloop gave chase. Soon they
+were near their quarry.
+
+"Swordfish!" breathlessly announced Jim. "And a big one! Put me on top
+of him, Budge!"
+
+Leaning against the mast-hoop that encircled his waist, he lifted the
+long lance and poised it for the blow. The tail of the fish was almost
+under his feet when he launched the harpoon with all his strength.
+
+Unluckily, at just that moment the sloop dipped and met a big sea
+squarely. Her bowsprit dove under, burying Jim almost breast-deep,
+spoiling his aim. The dart struck the fish a glancing blow on the side
+of the shoulder. Off darted their frightened game.
+
+Jim gave a cry of disappointment.
+
+"Too bad! Ten feet, if he was an inch! Well, better luck next time!"
+
+A quarter-hour passed. Budge strained his eyes, but no fin! The breeze
+was shifting to the northeast. Jim cast a practised eye about the
+horizon.
+
+"If the wind swings round much farther it'll bring the fog again. See
+anything, Budge?"
+
+"No--yes! Up to starboard! Right, Throppy! Keep her as she is!"
+
+The fish was swimming at a moderate rate, and the sloop had no trouble
+in catching up with him. The two stiff fins betrayed him.
+
+[Illustration: LEANING AGAINST THE MAST-HOOP THAT ENCIRCLED HIS WAIST,
+HE LIFTED THE LONG LANCE AND POISED IT FOR THE BLOW]
+
+"Swordfish all right!" muttered Jim. "Not quite so big as the other one,
+but too good to lose! Steady, Throppy!"
+
+Foot by foot the _Barracouta's_ bowsprit forged up on their prospective
+prey. Nobody spoke. Jim's grip on the pine staff tightened; his eye
+measured the distance to the dull-blue shoulder.
+
+Six inches further ... five ... four ... three ... two ... one ...
+_now!_
+
+With all his might he drove the harpoon downward, straight for its mark.
+There was a tremendous flurry, and down went the fish, leaving a trail
+of blood.
+
+"Got him that time! Right through the shoulder! Over with that warp and
+barrel, Filippo!"
+
+The Italian obeyed, his eyes wide as saucers. Soon the coils of the
+fifty-fathom lobster-warp had straightened out in the wake of the
+terrified fugitive, and the red buoy danced off over the wave-crests.
+
+"He's up to you, Perce!" shouted Jim. "Go after him! Only be sure to
+remember what I told you coming out. Keep your eye on the barrel! Haul
+it aboard as soon as you can, and coil in the warp. Don't get snarled up
+in it if he starts running again."
+
+Percy drew the dory alongside and jumped in. Meanwhile the harpoon staff
+was dragged aboard by the line attached to it, the pole-iron having
+pulled out of the socket in the dart when the fish was struck. Jim stuck
+on a fresh dart, attached to another warp and buoy, and was ready for a
+second strike.
+
+"Pass Percy that lance, Filippo!" he ordered.
+
+"He may need it to keep off the sharks."
+
+The Italian handed to Whittington a short, stout pole, on its end a
+two-foot iron rod, flattened to a point shaped like a tablespoon, and
+filed to razor sharpness. Percy set out in pursuit of the red barrel,
+now almost two hundred yards to starboard.
+
+"Another fin to port!" hailed Budge; and the _Barracouta_ sheered off in
+quest of a second prize.
+
+For the first few minutes, though Percy rowed his prettiest, he could
+not hold his own with the moving barrel. Each glance over his shoulder
+showed that it was farther away. He bent stoutly to his oars. The sloop
+was heading in the opposite direction, and the distance between them
+widened rapidly. The wind had veered still further to the east and the
+fog hung more thickly on the horizon.
+
+The barrel was nearer. At last he had begun to gain on it. He rowed with
+renewed vigor. Either the fish was tiring out or had stopped swimming
+altogether. Presently the dory bumped against the keg.
+
+Pulling in his oars and dropping them over the thwarts, he sprang
+forward and gaffed the buoy. A moment later he had lifted it aboard and
+was pulling in the warp.
+
+The first ten feet came over the gunwale without any resistance; then he
+had to surge against the sag of a dead weight. The fish had either given
+up the ghost or was too exhausted to struggle.
+
+Fifty fathoms is a long distance to drag two hundred pounds. Percy's
+arms began to ache before he had coiled in half the warp. Then he was
+treated to a surprise.
+
+Several feet of line jerked through his hands. The fish had come to life
+again!
+
+Percy closed his grip on the strands, but soon let them slip to avoid
+being pulled overboard. He started to make the line fast, but remembered
+Spurling's caution against the danger of tearing the dart out of his
+prey. So he tossed the barrel over again and began rowing after it.
+
+After traveling a few rods, it stopped. Once more he took it aboard and
+began coiling in the warp. This time the fish must surely be spent. But
+no! Thirty fathoms had crossed the gunwale when the rope was whisked
+from his hands with even more violence than before.
+
+Taken completely by surprise, Percy was wrenched forward. He hung for a
+moment over the side, twisted himself back in a strong effort to regain
+his balance, and incautiously planted his foot inside the unlaying coil.
+A turn whipped round his ankle, and he was snatched overboard, feet
+first.
+
+Before he could make a motion to free himself he was plowing rapidly
+along under water. His first panic passed. Unless he wished to drown, he
+must somehow clear his foot of that vise-like grip. And whatever he did
+must be done at once.
+
+He tried to reach his ankle, but the rate at which he was traveling
+straightened out his body, and he could not bend it against the water
+rushing by him. The warp leading back to the dory trailed across his
+face. He felt his way down it, hand over hand, to his ankle.
+
+There was a terrible pressure on his chest, a roaring in his ears; he
+was strangling. He could not hold his breath ten seconds longer.
+
+Bent almost double, he grasped the taut line beyond his foot, first
+with one hand, then with both, and flung his whole weight suddenly on it
+in a desperate pull.
+
+The strain round his ankle eased, the rope loosened. Kicking vigorously,
+he freed himself from the loop. Then he let go of the warp and quickly
+rose to the surface.
+
+Percy was a good swimmer. He cleared the water from his mouth and nose,
+paddled easily while he drew two or three long breaths, then raised
+himself and looked around.
+
+Twenty yards away the dory bobbed aimlessly, the rope still running at a
+rapid rate over its gunwale. As Percy rose on a wave he caught a glimpse
+of the _Barracouta_ more than a mile off; engrossed in the chase of the
+second fish, her crew had probably not observed his mishap. He turned
+his eyes back to the dory at the very moment that the warp ran out to
+its full length and the barrel was whirled overboard.
+
+Its red bilge flung the spray aloft as it towed rapidly toward him. Ten
+yards away it came to a sudden stop. The swordfish was either dead or
+taking another rest.
+
+It was a matter of no great difficulty for Percy to reach the little
+cask. He rested on it for a moment, then resumed his swim toward the
+boat. Presently he was grasping the gunwale.
+
+A month earlier it would have been absolutely impossible for him to
+scramble into the high-sided, rocking craft. As it was he had a hard
+fight, and he was all but spent when he tumbled inside and lay panting.
+
+When he raised himself, the first thing he noticed was that the fog was
+driving nearer. The wind was now due east. It promised to bring the
+day's fishing to an early end. He must retrieve the barrel and get the
+fish aboard as soon as possible or he might lose it altogether.
+
+Shipping his oars, he rowed up to the cask and took it in. A pull on the
+warp showed that the swordfish was motionless. Percy began hauling
+again, but this time he was very careful to keep his feet clear of the
+coil.
+
+A damp breath smote his cheek. He glanced toward the east, and saw the
+fog blowing over the water in ragged, fleecy masses. The _Barracouta_
+was momentarily hidden. When she reappeared, fully a mile distant, her
+crew were hoisting a black body aboard. While he was fighting for life
+they had succeeded in capturing the second fish. The sight reminded him
+of his duty. He resumed pulling.
+
+As the fathoms came in there was no sign of life on the other end. The
+fish sagged like lead. At last the long drag was over and its body
+floated beside the dory.
+
+"Deader 'n a door-nail!" muttered Percy.
+
+His prize was fully seven feet long. The iron had gone down under the
+shoulder and out into the gills, causing it to bleed freely. Its sword,
+which was an extension of the upper jaw, suggesting a duck's bill, was
+notched and battered, where it had struck against rocks on the bottom.
+
+Following Jim's directions, Percy fastened a bight of the warp securely
+round the tail of his prize, triced it up over the dory's stem, and made
+the line fast round a thwart. The fish was so heavy that he could not
+lift it very high, and most of its body dragged in the water. He began
+to row slowly toward the sloop.
+
+Thicker and thicker blew the fog. Finally it blotted out the
+_Barracouta_; but Percy's last view of her told that she was heading his
+way. What if she could not find him! The thought gave him an unpleasant
+chill. He rowed harder.
+
+A splash astern attracted his attention. A violent shock set the dory
+quivering. He started up just in time to see a large fish dart away,
+leaving the blood streaming from a gory wound in the head of the
+swordfish.
+
+A shark! Percy knew he was in for a fight. He seized the lance and
+sprang into the stern.
+
+A black fin shot alongside. The marauder rolled up for his turn at the
+banquet. Just as his jaws opened Percy drove the keen steel into his
+throat.
+
+Mad with fright and pain, the robber flashed off, thrashing the bloody
+water. Another fin appeared on Percy's left. Again he lunged, and found
+his mark. The tail of the wounded shark struck the dory a heavy blow.
+Down it rolled, almost pitching the boy overboard head foremost among
+the blood-crazed sea-tigers. For a moment he sickened at what might have
+happened; but he regained his balance and hung to the lance. His
+fighting blood was roused. He had risked too much already to have the
+swordfish torn to pieces under his very eyes.
+
+Knees braced tightly against the sides of the stern, hands locked round
+the stout butt of the lance, he foiled rush after rush of the
+black-finned, white-bellied pirates. Again and again he lunged and
+stabbed, until the water round the rocking boat was dyed crimson.
+
+[Illustration: KNEES BRACED TIGHTLY AGAINST THE SIDES OF THE STERN,
+HANDS LOCKED ROUND THE STOUT BUTT OF THE LANCE, HE FOILED RUSH AFTER
+RUSH OF THE BLACK-FINNED, WHITE-BELLIED PIRATES]
+
+There seemed to be no end to the sharks. Fins crisscrossed the water all
+about and cut in toward the swordfish in quick, savage rushes. Percy was
+becoming exhausted; his arms ached; his breath came short. He could not
+keep up the fight much longer. Where was the _Barracouta_?
+
+He shouted at the top of his lungs. Unexpectedly, out of the fog to
+starboard Jim's voice answered him.
+
+"Sharks!" yelled Percy. "This way! Quick!"
+
+"Fight 'em off! We're coming!"
+
+In less than two minutes the sloop was alongside, and oars and harpoon
+helped beat off the assailants while the prize was being hoisted aboard.
+Though badly gouged and bitten about the head, the swordfish was but
+little impaired in value, for its body had hardly been touched. Another
+of about the same size lay in the standing-room. It had been a good
+morning's work.
+
+Percy told his story as the _Barracouta_ nosed home through the fog.
+When he had finished, Jim dropped his hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Perce," said he, "you certainly put up a great fight and saved your
+fish. Nobody could have done any better."
+
+Those few words, Percy felt, amply repaid him for what he had gone
+through that morning. He had won his spurs and was at last a
+full-fledged member of Spurling & Company.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+MIDSUMMER DAYS
+
+
+Half past twelve found the _Barracouta_ again at her mooring in Sprowl's
+Cove. Throppy and Filippo were landed, with instructions to haul the
+lobster-traps the next morning if the fog would allow them to do it
+safely. Without waiting for dinner, Jim, Budge, and Percy started in the
+sloop for Rockland to dispose of their catch. They had no ice, so it was
+necessary to get the two swordfish to market as soon as possible.
+
+"Thicker 'n a dungeon, isn't it?" said Jim as they rounded Brimstone
+Point and headed northwest into the fog. "Lucky we've got a good
+compass! Without it we wouldn't stand the ghost of a show of getting to
+Rockland. We'd pile up on some ledge before we'd gone half-way."
+
+Shaping their course carefully by the chart, and keeping on the alert to
+avoid passing vessels and steamers, they drove the _Barracouta_ at top
+speed. Ten miles from Tarpaulin the increased height of the ocean swells
+told that they were crossing the shoal rocky ground of Snippershan. Five
+miles farther on they left behind the clanging bell on Bay Ledge and
+soon passed the red whistler south of Hurricane. A straight course from
+this brought them at five o'clock to the bell east of Monroe's Island,
+and before six they were alongside the steamboat wharf at Rockland.
+
+"Look out for her, boys!" directed Jim. "I want to get up-town before
+the markets close."
+
+He landed, and started on the run for Main Street. In twenty-five
+minutes he was back.
+
+"Sold 'em!" he announced. "Sixty dollars!"
+
+A little later an express-wagon with two men drove down on the wharf.
+The swordfish were hoisted from the _Barracouta_, the agreed price paid,
+and the team hurried away.
+
+"Not a bad day's work," said Budge.
+
+"Fair! Now let's go somewhere and get a good supper!"
+
+They found a restaurant on Main Street, unpretentious but clean, and sat
+down at one of its small tables. Two months ago Percy would have turned
+up his nose at the idea of eating in such a place; now he looked forward
+to a meal there with eager anticipation. Jim winked at him, then scanned
+the bill of fare, and turned to Budge.
+
+"What'll you have, Roger?" he asked. "I see they've some nice fish
+here."
+
+"Fish!" almost screamed Lane. "Not on your life! I've eaten so much fish
+the last two months that I'm ashamed to look a hake or haddock in the
+face. None for mine! Beefsteak and onions are good enough for me."
+
+Jim glanced at Percy. Percy nodded.
+
+"Three of the same," said Jim to the waiter.
+
+They starved until the viands came on, then turned to. Fifteen minutes
+later the three orders were duplicated and despatched without undue
+delay.
+
+"Try it again, Budge?"
+
+"I'd like to," returned Lane, truthfully, "but I can't."
+
+Jim broke a five-dollar bill at the cashier's desk, and they filed out.
+
+"Sorry Throppy and Filippo aren't with us," said Percy.
+
+"So am I; but we'll even it up with 'em somehow, later."
+
+After an evening with Sherlock Holmes at the movies the three went down
+to the _Barracouta_ and turned in. The next morning the fog was not so
+thick. They started at sunrise, and reached the island before eleven
+o'clock. At noon Stevens and the Italian came in with a good catch of
+lobsters.
+
+And now came some of the most enjoyable weeks of the summer. The five
+boys were thoroughly acquainted and on the best of terms. Their work had
+been reduced to a frictionless routine that left them more leisure than
+at first. Lane was treasurer and bookkeeper for the concern, and his
+reports, made every Saturday night, showed that returns, both from the
+fish and from the lobsters, were running ahead of their estimates at the
+beginning of the season.
+
+Percy, in particular, was learning to enjoy the free, out-of-door life,
+so different from anything to which he had been accustomed. At the close
+of pleasant afternoons, when a land breeze had driven the fog to sea and
+the work of the day was finished, he liked to take his Caesar or Virgil
+up to the beacon on Brimstone, and lie at ease on the cushion of wiry
+grass, while he followed the great general through his Gallic campaigns
+or traced the wanderings of pious AEneas over a sea that could have been
+no bluer or more sparkling than that which surrounded the island.
+Sometimes it pleased him to explore the sheep-paths through the scrubby
+evergreens with gray wool-tags clinging to the branch ends, and to
+emerge at last from the tangle of dwarfed, twisted trunks on the
+northeast point. There he would throw himself at full length on the
+summit of the bluff, with the surf in his ears and the cool, salt breeze
+on his face, and watch the sun flashing from the brown glass toggles
+near the white lobster-buoys; or, lifting his gaze to the horizon beyond
+the purple deep, he would trace the low, rolling humps of the mainland
+hills, the cleft range of Isle au Haut, or the heights of Mount Desert.
+But no studies or scenery caused him to forget his daily trip with
+sweater and rockweed.
+
+The glades on the southern edge of the woods were overgrown with
+raspberry-bushes. When Filippo's daily stint about the camp was
+finished, he visited these spots with his pail; and while the season
+lasted, heaping bowls of red, dead-ripe fruit or saucers of sweet
+preserve varied their customary fare. There were blueberries, too, in
+abundance, and these also made a welcome addition to their table.
+
+"Boys," said Lane, one morning, "I'm meat hungry. I can still taste that
+beefsteak we got the other night at Rockland. Think of the ton or so of
+mutton chops running loose on top of this island, while we poor Crusoes
+are starving to death on the beach!"
+
+"No need of waiting until you're in the last stages, Budge," observed
+Jim. "Uncle Tom told me we could have a lamb whenever we wanted one. All
+we've got to do is to kill it."
+
+A silence settled over the camp. The boys looked at one another. Nobody
+hankered for the job.
+
+"Budge spoke first," suggested Throppy.
+
+"I'm no butcher," returned Lane. "Come to think of it, I don't care much
+for lamb, after all."
+
+"Now see here!" said Jim. "What's the use of beating round the bush?
+We're all crazy for fresh meat. The only thing to do is to draw lots to
+see who'll sacrifice his feelings and do the shooting. We'll settle that
+now."
+
+He cut four toothpicks into uneven lengths.
+
+"Filippo's not in this."
+
+He had noticed that the Italian's olive face had grown pale.
+
+"Now come up and draw like men!"
+
+The lot fell to Lane.
+
+"You're it, Budge! Don't be a quitter! There's the gun and here's our
+last shell. Don't miss!"
+
+Lane's lips tightened. But he took the gun, put in the shell, and
+started up over the bank.
+
+"Don't follow me," he flung back. "I'll do this alone."
+
+Five minutes of silence followed. Then--_bang!_
+
+"He's done it!" exclaimed Throppy.
+
+The boys felt unhappy. In a few minutes Lane came crunching down the
+gravel slope. His face was sober.
+
+"Where's the lamb?" asked Jim.
+
+"Up there! I didn't agree to bring it down."
+
+"Come on, boys!"
+
+Jim, Percy, and Stevens went up to the pasture; Lane remained in the
+cabin. A careful search failed to reveal the victim. Jim walked to the
+edge of the bank.
+
+"Oh, Budge!" he called.
+
+Lane came out of the camp.
+
+"Where's that lamb?"
+
+"Don't know! Running around up there, I s'pose!"
+
+"Didn't you shoot him?"
+
+"No! I couldn't. And I know none of the rest of you could, either. So I
+fired in the air."
+
+Jim's laugh spoke his relief.
+
+"Well, I guess that's the easiest way out of it for everybody. Next trip
+to Matinicus I'll order a hind quarter from Rockland. It'll mean a
+little more wear and tear on the company's pocketbook, but a good deal
+less on our feelings."
+
+One of the accompaniments of the heat and fog of those August days was a
+kind of salt-water mirage. Ships and steamers miles away below the
+horizon were lifted into plain view. Low, distant islands rose to
+perpendicular bluffs, distorted by the wavering air-currents; other
+islands appeared directly above the first, and came down to join them.
+Percy watched these novel moving pictures with great interest.
+
+Every few mornings either the trawl or the lobster-traps would yield
+something unusual. Now it might be a dozen bream, called by the
+fishermen "brim," "redfish," or "all-eyes"; again up would come a
+catfish, savage and sharp-toothed, able to dent an ash oar; and rarely a
+small halibut would appear, drowned on the trawl. Sometimes the
+lobstermen would capture a monkfish, whose undiscriminating appetite had
+led him to try to swallow a glass float; or a trap would come to the
+surface freighted with huge five-fingers or containing a short,
+ribbon-shaped eel, blood-red from nose to tail-tip.
+
+Spurling & Company were dressing a big catch of hake on the _Barracouta_
+early one afternoon when a rockety report resounded close to the island.
+Percy, who was wielding his splitting-knife with good effect, as his
+oilskins showed, glanced up quickly.
+
+"That's a yacht's gun!"
+
+Sixty seconds revealed that he was right. Into the mouth of the cove
+shot a keen-pro wed steam-yacht, resplendent with brass fittings and
+fresh, white paint. Five or six flanneled figures lounged aft, while a
+few members of her crew, natty in white duck, dropped anchor under the
+direction of an officer. Side-steps were lowered and an immaculate toy
+boat swung out; a sailor occupied the rowing-thwart, while one of the
+yachtsmen stepped into the stern and took the rudder-lines. The boat
+sped straight toward the _Barracouta_, which grew dingy and mean by
+contrast.
+
+Presently the strangers were near. The yachtsman touched his cap. He was
+a good-looking fellow of perhaps nineteen, with a light, fuzzy mustache
+and eyes that were a trifle shifty.
+
+"Would you be so kind as to tell me--"
+
+He broke off abruptly as he recognized Percy.
+
+"By the Great Horn Spoon!" he almost shouted, "if it isn't P.
+Whittington! Percy, old man, what do you mean by hiding yourself away
+offshore in a lonesome spot like this? Come aboard! Come aboard! The old
+crowd's there--Ben Brimmer and Martin Sayles and Mordaunt and Mack and
+Barden. I've chartered the _Arethusa_, and invited 'em to spend a month
+with me along the New England coast. We're not having a time of it--oh
+no! or my name isn't Chauncey Pike!"
+
+His eyes dwelt curiously on the details of Percy's costume and
+occupation.
+
+"What you masquerading for? Hiding from the sheriff?"
+
+Percy met his gaze evenly. His estimate of men and the things that make
+life worth living had undergone a material change during the last two
+months. Pike's jesting flowed off him like water off a duck. He
+introduced the other members of Spurling & Company, and Pike greeted
+them cordially.
+
+"I want you all to take dinner on board with us to-night. We've got a
+first-class chef, and I'll have him do his prettiest. 'Tisn't every day
+you run across an old friend."
+
+Jim was inclined to demur, but Pike would not take no for an answer, and
+he finally gave in when Percy added his entreaties to those of the
+yachtsman.
+
+"Signal the yacht when you're through, Perce," said the latter as he
+rowed away, "and I'll send ashore for you. I know your friends here will
+excuse you for a while if you come aboard and talk over old times with
+us."
+
+"Better let me set you ashore now," said Jim, "so you can wash up and
+change your clothes."
+
+"Not much!" refused Percy. "I'll see every fish salted first."
+
+He was as good as his word. Not until the last hake lay on the top of
+its brethren in the hogshead did he take off his oilskins and prepare
+for his visit to the yacht. At his signal the boat rowed in and took him
+aboard. He received an uproarious greeting from his former friends. The
+first welcome over, he came in for more or less chaffing.
+
+"Boys," jeered Pike, "what do you suppose I found this modest,
+salt-water violet--or barnacle, I should say--doing? Actually dressed in
+oil-clothes and cleaning fish! Think of it! P. Whittington, the one and
+only! Wouldn't his friends along Fifth Avenue like to see him in that
+rig! Honest, Perce, if I wanted to bury myself, I'd pick a cemetery
+where the occupants didn't have to perform so much bone labor. I'd
+rather face the firing-squad than do what you were doing this
+afternoon."
+
+"Guess you're telling the truth, Chauncey," retorted Percy.
+
+"Come down below and let's have a drink all round!"
+
+"Not unless it's Poland water," said Percy, firmly. "The one drawback
+about this island is that the only spring's brackish. If you've any good
+bottled water I'll be glad to drink with you, but nothing stronger."
+
+"Just listen to that, fellows! Well, have your own way, Perce! We've a
+dozen carboys of spring water aboard, and you can drink 'em all if you
+want to. Try these cigarettes!"
+
+"Swore off over a month ago."
+
+"No! Shouldn't think you'd find life worth living. What do you have for
+amusement?"
+
+"We're too busy to need any," replied Percy, truthfully.
+
+Pike looked serious. Removing Percy's cap, he tapped his head with the
+tips of his fingers.
+
+"There's some trouble inside," he said at last, "but I can't quite make
+out what it is. I think we'll have to take him up to the city to consult
+some prominent alienist, as the newspapers would say. But first he's
+going east in the _Arethusa_ with Doctor Pike. Come on, Perce! Put off
+the sackcloth and ashes, or rather the oilskins and fish-scales, and
+travel with us for a while. We're all artists aboard, but we paint in
+only one color, and that's a deep, rich red! We're going to spread it
+over Castine and Bar Harbor and Campobello, and we want your esteemed
+assistance. Do we have it?"
+
+Percy shook his head.
+
+"You do not," he declined. "I'm booked for college in the fall, and I'm
+studying to make up my conditions."
+
+Pike looked sadly round at the others.
+
+"And so young!" he lamented. "I presume your friends ashore share your
+sentiments, and we'll have to take 'em into consideration in planning
+for that dinner to-night. Wouldn't have any scruples, would you, about
+beginning with a clear soup, then tackling a juicy beef roast with all
+the fixings, and winding up with lemon pie and ice-cream?"
+
+"Lead me to it," grinned Percy. "Well, fellows, I'm mighty glad to see
+you, even if we don't agree on all points. Now I've an engagement ashore
+for a half-hour or so, and if you'll set me on the beach I'll come
+aboard with the others."
+
+Curious eyes followed him as he climbed the bluff with his sweater and
+plunged into the woods. At six he rowed out with the rest of the
+Spurlingites, Filippo included. The dinner to which they sat down was
+one they remembered for the rest of the season. Pike had not overpraised
+his French chef. Everybody had a good time, and at the close of the meal
+a toast was drunk--in spring water--to the continued success of Spurling
+& Company. The boys went ashore early.
+
+No trawling was done the next morning, as it was the regular day for the
+trip to Matinicus. The _Barracouta_ started at nine o'clock. At about
+the same time the yacht catted her anchor, fired a farewell gun, and
+proceeded eastward, her passengers first lining up and giving three
+cheers for their guests of the night before, and receiving a similar
+salute in return.
+
+"Perce," said Jim as the sloop rose and sank on the swells on her way
+over to Seal Island, "if you won't think me impertinent, I'd like to ask
+you a question."
+
+"Fire ahead!"
+
+"You can tell me or not, just as you please, but I've been wondering
+since last night whether, right down at the bottom of your heart, you'd
+rather be with your friends on the yacht or with us on the island."
+
+"That's an easy one, Jim," replied Percy. "And the best answer I can
+make is the fact I'm on the boat with you this minute. I had an
+invitation to go with them, and I declined it. Things look different to
+me from what they did two months ago."
+
+At Matinicus Percy found a letter from his father, answering his epistle
+of a few weeks before.
+
+    DEAR PERCY [it ran],--Glad to hear you're on the job. Keep it up.
+
+Percy countered that night as follows:
+
+    DEAR DAD,--I'm still sticking.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+A LOST ALUMNUS
+
+
+Throppy stepped out of the fish-house at the close of a breezy afternoon
+and started for the camp to wash up. The morning's catch had been split
+and salted; it just filled a hogshead. He glanced seaward at the
+white-capped squalls chasing one another over the broad blue surface.
+Three steps from the building he halted in surprise.
+
+"Hulloo! Who's that?"
+
+Round the eastern point came a small sloop. Evidently she had met with
+disaster, for the end of her boom was broken and dragging and her
+mainsail hung loosely. It was easily apparent that she had made a safe
+harbor none too early.
+
+Attracted by Throppy's exclamation, the other boys joined him, and
+together they watched the strange craft limp into the cove. As she came
+nearer they could see that she was old and dilapidated. Her brown canvas
+was frayed and rotten; tag-ends of rope hung here and there; and her
+battered sides were badly in need of a coat of fresh paint.
+
+"Built in the year one!" was Jim's verdict. "Almost too old to be
+knocking round so far offshore!"
+
+Gliding slowly into the cove, she lost headway not far from the
+_Barracouta_. A small black dog began to run to and fro on board and
+bark excitedly. The man at the helm, evidently her only crew, hurried
+stiffly forward, let the jib and mainsail run down, and dropped the
+anchor. Then the boys were treated to a fresh surprise.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A shaggy white cat leaped from the standing-room upon the roof of the
+cabin. A Maltese followed her. Then another, jet black, sprang into
+view. The three rubbed about the legs of the man as he made his cable
+fast. Nemo, roused from his nap under the stove, ran down to the water's
+edge and began an interchange of ferocious greetings with the strange
+canine; while the cats, lining up in a row on the side, arched their
+backs and spit fiercely.
+
+The boys viewed this menagerie with amazement.
+
+"Barnum & Bailey's come to town!" muttered Budge.
+
+His craft safely moored, the man drew in a small punt which was towing
+astern and stepped into it. The dog followed.
+
+"Back, Oliver!" ordered his master.
+
+Grasping the animal by the scruff of the neck, he tossed him into the
+standing-room. Then he slowly sculled the punt to the beach. Jim walked
+down to meet him.
+
+The stranger was of medium height, and apparently over sixty years old.
+His beard and mustache were gray. He wore a black slouch-hat and a
+Prince Albert coat, threadbare and shiny, but neatly brushed. He stepped
+briskly ashore, with shoulders well set back. His dark eyes carried a
+suggestion of melancholy, and his face was deeply lined.
+
+"I've dropped in to make repairs," said he. "Broke my main boom in a
+squall about a mile north of the island, and thought I might get some
+one here to help me fix it."
+
+"You did right to come," returned Jim. "We'll be glad to do anything we
+can, Mr.--"
+
+"Thorpe," supplied the other. "That isn't my name, but it'll do as well
+as any."
+
+"Mine's Spurling," said Jim.
+
+They shook hands and walked up to the camp. There Jim introduced the
+newcomer to the other boys. Supper was about to be put on the table and
+the stranger was invited to share it. He accepted, and ate heartily,
+almost ravenously.
+
+"Seems good to taste somebody's cooking besides your own," he
+apologized. "When you've summered and wintered yourself, year in and
+year out, the thing gets pretty monotonous and you almost hate the sight
+of food."
+
+"Then you're alone most of the time?" ventured Lane.
+
+"Not most of the time, but all the time."
+
+The boys would have liked to inquire further, but courtesy forbade, and
+their guest did not volunteer anything more regarding himself. He
+shifted the conversation to Nemo.
+
+"Bright-looking dog you've got there!" he commented.
+
+"Yes," said Jim. "And he's fully as bright as he looks. I see you've a
+dog and some cats aboard."
+
+"Yes; and they're good company--better, in some ways, than human beings,
+for they can't talk back. The dog's Oliver Cromwell; and the cats I've
+named Joan of Arc, Marie Antoinette, and Queen Victoria. I must go
+aboard and give 'em their suppers."
+
+He rose from the table.
+
+"Come back again in an hour," invited Jim, "and we'll have some music.
+We've a violin here."
+
+"I'll be more than glad to come," returned their guest. "Music's
+something I don't have a chance to hear very often."
+
+Walking down the beach, he sculled out to his sloop. His animals greeted
+him, Oliver Cromwell vociferously, the cats with a more reserved
+welcome.
+
+"What d'you make of him?" asked Percy. "Odd stick, isn't he?"
+
+"Yes," said Jim, meditatively, "but he seems like a gentleman. What I
+can't understand is why he's cruising along the coast alone in that old
+Noah's ark. It doesn't seem natural. Besides, it's dangerous business
+for a man of his age. Well, it's no concern of ours. Let's give him a
+pleasant evening."
+
+Promptly at the end of the allotted hour the stranger came ashore again.
+
+"Got the children all in bed for the night," said he. "Now I can make
+you a little visit with a clear conscience."
+
+He spoke faster and more cheerfully than he had done before. The
+melancholy in his bearing had vanished. Jim thought he detected a slight
+odor of liquor about him, but he could not be sure. They all sat down
+together, and Throppy brought out his violin.
+
+"What shall it be, boys?" he asked, after a preliminary tuning up.
+
+"Give us 'The Wearing of the Green,'" suggested Lane.
+
+Soon the wailing strains of the familiar Irish melody were breathing
+through the cabin. "Kathleen Mavourneen" followed, and the stranger sat
+as if fascinated. At "'Way Down Upon the Suwanee River" he dropped his
+head in his hands and his shoulders shook.
+
+"Something livelier, Throppy," said Jim.
+
+Stevens started in on "Dixie." As the first spirited notes came dancing
+off the violin their guest raised his head quickly, and before the
+selection was finished his cheerfulness had returned.
+
+"Can you play 'The Campbells Are Coming'?" he inquired.
+
+As Stevens responded with the stirring Scotch air Thorpe rose to his
+feet and began whistling a clear, melodious accompaniment. The notes
+trilled out, pure and bird-like. The boys broke into hearty applause
+when he finished. Their approval emboldened him to ask a favor.
+
+"I used to play a little myself," he said; "but it's been years since
+I've had a bow in my hand. Would you be willing for me to see if I can
+recall anything? I'll be careful of your instrument."
+
+"Sure!" cordially returned Stevens.
+
+He handed violin and bow to Thorpe. The latter took them almost
+reverently. Tucking the violin under his chin, he drew the bow back and
+forth, at first with a lingering, uncertain touch, but soon with an
+increasing firmness and accuracy that bespoke an old-time skill.
+Gradually he gathered confidence, and a bubbling flood of liquid music
+gushed from the vibrating strings.
+
+At first he played a medley of fragments, short snatches from old tunes,
+each shading imperceptibly into the one that followed, blending into a
+whole that chorded with the night and sea and wind and the driftwood
+fire crackling in the little stove in the lonely island cabin. The boys
+sat motionless, listening, brooding over the visions the music opened to
+each. They had never heard such music before. Even Percy had to
+acknowledge that, as he leaned breathlessly forward, eyes glued to the
+dancing bow.
+
+One final, long, slow sweep, and the last notes died away, mellow and
+silvery as a distant bell. The musician raised his bowed head and looked
+about.
+
+"More!" begged the boys.
+
+With a nod of assent, he began "Annie Laurie." His audience sat
+spellbound. "Flow Gently, Sweet Afton" followed; and he closed with
+"Auld Lang Syne." Then he laid the violin carefully on the table and
+burst into tears.
+
+For two or three minutes nobody spoke. Filippo was weeping silently;
+Percy cleared his throat; and even the other three were conscious of a
+slight huskiness. The evening was turning out differently from what they
+had anticipated.
+
+Brushing away his tears, the stranger controlled himself with a strong
+effort.
+
+"I don't know what you'll think of me, boys," said he, shamefacedly.
+"I'm sorry to have made such an exhibition of myself. But music always
+did affect me; besides, it's wakened some old memories. Guess I'd better
+be going now."
+
+He half rose.
+
+"Stay awhile longer," urged Jim; and the others seconded the invitation.
+
+Thorpe sank back on his box.
+
+"You won't have to persuade me very hard. Evenings alone on the _Helen_
+are pretty long."
+
+His eye fell on Percy's AEneid on the shelf beside the window.
+
+"Aha! Who's reading Virgil?"
+
+"I am," confessed Percy. "Making up college conditions."
+
+The stranger looked at him keenly.
+
+"Conditions, eh? Guess you don't need to have any, unless you want 'em."
+
+"Found you at home there, Perce!" laughed Lane.
+
+"I don't propose to have any more after this summer," averred Percy,
+stoutly.
+
+"Stick to that!" encouraged Thorpe. "There's enough have 'em that can't
+help it."
+
+Taking down the volume, he opened it at the beginning of the first book,
+and began reading aloud, dividing the lines into feet:
+
+     _"Arma virumque cano, Trojae qui primus ab oris Italiam, fato
+     profugus, Laviniaque venit._
+
+"Wouldn't want to say how long it's been since I last set eyes on that.
+Probably you boys notice that I use the English pronunciation of Latin
+instead of the continental; it's what I had when I was in college."
+
+"What was your college?" inquired Percy.
+
+Melancholy darkened Thorpe's face again.
+
+"Never mind about that," he replied, a little brusquely.
+
+Glancing round the cabin, he caught sight of Throppy's wireless outfit;
+soon the two were engaged in an interested discussion on wave-lengths
+and the effect of atmospheric disturbances. Later he was talking over
+the lobster law with Jim, and life-insurance with Lane. He seemed to be
+equally at home on all subjects.
+
+Eight o'clock came before they realized it. The stranger's face suddenly
+grew somber.
+
+"Boys," said he, "I must be going now. You've given me a mighty
+pleasant evening and I sha'n't forget it right away. You'll think it a
+strange thing for me to say, but the best return I can make for your
+kindness is to tell you something about myself."
+
+He glanced at Percy.
+
+"You asked me what my college was. I'm not going to answer that
+question, but I'll say this: At the end of its catalogue of graduates
+you'll find a page headed 'Lost Alumni,' and my name--my real name--is
+there. It's a list of those whose addresses are unknown to the college
+authorities, men who have dropped out, gone back, disappeared. Nobody
+knows what's become of 'em, and by and by nobody cares. That's just what
+I am--a lost alumnus! And it's better for me to stay lost!"
+
+With trembling hands he picked up a worm-eaten stick beside the stove.
+
+"I'm like this stick now--only driftwood! Once I was young and sound and
+strong as any one of you--just as this wood was once. Now--"
+
+Lifting the stove cover, he flung the stick into the fire; a burst of
+sparks shot up.
+
+"That's all it's fit for; and it's all I'm fit for, too! Name ...
+character ... friends ... home ... all gone--all gone!"
+
+He took a step toward the door, then halted.
+
+"I've told you this because it may do some one of you some good while
+there's time. Don't throw your lives away, as I've thrown away mine!"
+
+The sober, startled faces of his hearers apparently recalled him to
+himself.
+
+"Sorry I spoke so freely," he apologized. "Forget it, boys, and forget
+me! Everybody else has. Good night!"
+
+He opened the door.
+
+"Won't you stop ashore with us?" invited Spurling. "We can fix you up a
+bunk."
+
+"No; I must go aboard. My dog and cats would be lonesome; wouldn't sleep
+a wink without me. They're mighty knowing animals."
+
+He went out and closed the door. The boys looked at one another. Lane
+was the first to speak.
+
+"What d'you suppose was the matter with him? Must have been something
+pretty bad to make him feel that way. But, say! Didn't he make that
+violin talk? Never heard anything like it before!"
+
+That night the boys went to bed feeling unusually serious. Percy, in
+particular, did not get to sleep until late. The stranger's remarks had
+given him much food for thought.
+
+The next morning, before sunrise, the barking of Oliver Cromwell and a
+thin, blue smoke curling from the stovepipe of the _Helen_ told that the
+lost alumnus was preparing breakfast. Jim and Percy had started off with
+their trawls some time before. Stevens volunteered to help their visitor
+repair his boom, so Filippo went out with Lane to haul the
+lobster-traps.
+
+All the boys were back at noon, when Thorpe, repairs made, waved
+farewell and sailed slowly out of the cove, dog and cats manning the
+side of the _Helen_, as if for a last salute. Throppy told of his
+morning's work.
+
+"Tried to pay me for what I did; but of course I wouldn't take
+anything. You might not think it, but, inside, that old boat is as neat
+as wax. Got a good library on board, too; books there that were beyond
+me. All the current magazines. Easy to see how he keeps up to date about
+everything."
+
+At two o'clock that afternoon in popped the _Calista_ in quest of
+lobsters. The boys told her captain about their strange caller. Higgins
+laughed shortly.
+
+"What--old Thorpe! Oh yes, I've known of him these twenty years!
+Mystery? Not so much as you might think. It's the same mystery that's
+ruined a lot of other men--John Barleycorn! Thorpe showed up from nobody
+knows where about a quarter of a century ago; and ever since then he's
+been banging up and down the coast in that old boat. They say he's a
+college graduate gone to the bad from drink."
+
+"What supports him?" asked Lane. "Does he fish?"
+
+"Not more than enough to supply himself and his live stock. I've heard
+he's got wealthy relatives who furnish him with all the money he needs.
+He likes to live in this style, and they like to have him. He's out of
+their way, and they're out of his. In the winter he ties the sloop up in
+some harbor and stops aboard."
+
+"He seemed to be sober enough last night," said Jim.
+
+"Yes; when he's all right you couldn't ask for a man to be more
+peaceable or gentlemanly; but when he's in liquor, look out! I passed
+him a month ago one squally day off Monhegan, running before the wind,
+sheet fast, shot to the eyes, and yelling like a wild man. It's a
+dangerous trick to make that sheet fast on a squally day, or on any day
+at all, for that matter. Some time he'll do it once too often. Well, as
+the saying goes, 'When rum's in, wit's out!' How's lobsters?"
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+BLOWN OFF
+
+
+At two o'clock on a Friday morning toward the end of August Spurling and
+Whittington started with six tubs of trawl, baited with salted herring,
+for Clay Bank. Long before sunrise the last fathom of ground-line had
+gone overboard and the tubs were empty.
+
+Swinging the _Barracouta_ about, they retraced their course to the first
+buoy.
+
+A long, oily ocean swell, heaving in from the south, undulated the
+breezeless sea. The air was mild, almost suspiciously so. Dawn was
+breaking redly as they reached their starting-point and prepared to pull
+in the trawl.
+
+"I'll haul the first half, Perce," volunteered Spurling.
+
+Drawing the dory alongside, he cast off her painter and sprang aboard.
+Before taking in the buoy he stood for a half-minute, scanning sky and
+sea.
+
+"Almost too fine!" he remarked. "I don't like that crimson east. You
+remember how the rhyme goes:
+
+    "A red sky in the morning,
+    Sailors take warning.
+
+Looks to me like a weather-breeder. Those swells remind me of a lazy,
+good-natured, purring tiger. You wouldn't think they'd swamp a toy
+boat; but let the wind blow over 'em a few hours and it's an entirely
+different matter. Still, I don't think we'll see any really bad weather
+before midnight at the earliest. Guess we'd better plan not to set
+to-morrow."
+
+He was soon unhooking hake and coiling the trawl into its tub. Percy
+kept the _Barracouta_ close by. At the middle buoy he relieved Spurling
+in the dory. The set yielded over two thousand pounds of fish,
+principally good-sized hake.
+
+"Very fair morning's work," said Spurling. "We'll leave that last load
+in the dory. Now for home!"
+
+Soon the sloop was heading for Tarpaulin, the weighted dory towing
+behind. They were almost up to Brimstone Point when, with a final
+explosion, the engine stopped. Spurling gave an exclamation of mingled
+disgust and relief.
+
+"Something's broken! Well, we're lucky it didn't give way five miles
+back. It'd have been a tough job to warp her in so far, with a white-ash
+breeze. Cast off that dory, Perce!"
+
+As Percy pulled the smaller craft alongside the distant quick-fire of an
+approaching engine fell upon his ears. He glanced quickly toward the
+northeast.
+
+"No blisters for us this morning!" he shouted. "Here comes Captain Ben
+in the _Calista!_ He'll tow us in."
+
+Presently the lobster-smack was alongside, and soon the _Calista_, with
+sloop and dory in tow, was heading for Sprowl's Cove. Jim and Percy had
+left their boat and come on board the smack. They noticed that Higgins
+seemed unusually serious.
+
+"What's the matter, Cap?" inquired Spurling. "Any trouble with
+lobsters?"
+
+"No," replied the captain, soberly, "there's no trouble with lobsters,
+so far as I know. Haven't met with any losses to speak of, and I'm
+paying twenty-five cents a pound. But something's happened to a friend
+of yours. Remember that stranger who made you a call a couple of weeks
+ago?"
+
+"Sure! What about him?"
+
+"Well, coming across from Swan's Island yesterday afternoon, I nearly
+ran over a boat, bottom up, close to Griffin Ledge. I managed to spell
+out the name on her stem; it was the old _Helen_. Thorpe had made his
+sheet fast once too often, as I've always said he would. So he's gone,
+dog, cats, and the whole shooting-match. I cruised about for a while to
+see if I could find anything, but it wasn't any use; the tide runs over
+those ledges like a river. The old fellow had a good streak in him, and
+I'm all-fired sorry he had to go that way. It only shows what rum can do
+for a man, if you give it a fair chance."
+
+The tragic news had a sobering effect upon the boys. Percy, in
+particular, remembering the habits of certain of his friends, took the
+story to heart. Nobody said anything more until they were inside the
+cove and running toward the lobster-car. Budge and Throppy saw them
+coming and rowed out in the pea-pod.
+
+While the lobsters were being dipped aboard the smack and weighed,
+Spurling tinkered the _Barracouta's_ engine. At last he discovered the
+cause of the breakdown.
+
+"Broken piston-rod!" he exclaimed. "That means a trip to Matinicus. And
+we've got to go right away, so we can get back before night ahead of the
+storm that's coming. We must fix that engine, or we may lose two or
+three days' good fishing, after the sea smooths down. Perce, you and
+I'll go in the dory. You other fellows'll have to dress those hake alone
+this time."
+
+"I'll tow you across, Jimmy," offered Higgins. "But it looks a bit
+smurry to me. I think there may be a norther coming; and you wouldn't
+want to get caught out in that. Remember what happened to Bill Carlin!"
+
+"I know," answered Spurling. "But that engine's no good without a
+piston-rod. I was born in a dory. Besides, if it should blow too hard,
+we can stop on Wooden Ball or Seal Island."
+
+A few minutes later the _Calista_, with Jim and Percy aboard and the
+dory in tow, was moving away from Tarpaulin. An easy run of two hours
+brought them to Matinicus. Higgins dropped his anchor in the outer
+harbor near Wheaton's Island, and the boys rowed ashore in their dory,
+landing in the head of the little cove near the fish-wharf.
+
+Percy made a few necessary purchases at the store while Jim attended to
+the piston-rod. A half-hour later they were pushing off the dory, ready
+for their long row back. The sky was hazy and the sea calm. In the outer
+harbor Captain Ben hailed them from the _Calista_.
+
+"Be good to yourselves, boys, and don't risk too much. You won't have
+any trouble getting to Seal Island; if it looks bad, you'd better hang
+up there with Pliny Ferguson. He'll be glad of company at his shack for
+the next two days; for, unless I'm 'way off, there won't be many trawls
+set or traps pulled until next Monday. I'm going to stick to Matinicus
+till the blow is over."
+
+It was still calm when they passed the Black Ledges and headed for the
+northeast point of Wooden Ball. Jim was rowing, and the dory drove
+easily onward under his powerful strokes.
+
+Percy looked north. The mountains on the mainland had vanished, and even
+the heights on Vinalhaven were being blotted out; but as yet not a
+breath of air disturbed the glassy, undulating sea.
+
+They were now only a few hundred feet north of the ledges on the
+extremity of the Ball. The swell was breaking white against its
+barnacled granite boulders in a long, crashing rumble.
+
+"Let me spell you at the oars, Jim," said Percy.
+
+"Don't care if you do! And pass that bag of hard bread forward! I feel
+hungry enough to eat the whole of it. Wonder what Filippo'll have for
+supper to-night!"
+
+The boys had been in such a hurry to get away from Matinicus that they
+had not taken time for any dinner; so both had keen appetites. Jim made
+a hearty lunch on the crisp crackers. Percy's mouth watered as he swung
+to and fro at the oars, facing his companion. Ten weeks ago he would
+have disdained such plain fare; but now he could eat it with a relish.
+His gristle was hardening into bone.
+
+Four or five of the brittle disks satisfied Jim's hunger.
+
+"Your turn now, Perce! Let me take her again!"
+
+"Hadn't I better row a little longer?"
+
+"No! I feel good for five miles. Those crackers put the strength into a
+man."
+
+Percy attacked the bag with an appetite equal to Jim's. Malcolm's Ledges
+were near, breaking white half-way from the Ball to Seal Island. To
+Percy's ears the roar of the surf sounded louder.
+
+"Sea's making up a bit, isn't it, Jim?"
+
+"Yes; but I don't think it'll amount to anything for a long time yet."
+
+Down swept a squall from the north, roughening and darkening the water.
+The dory careened a trifle as it smote her side.
+
+"Well, Perce, we're more than a third of the way home. There's Brimstone
+Point, eight miles ahead. We may see a little rough water before we get
+there. Lucky you're not seasick nowadays!"
+
+The squall passed, but left a steady breeze blowing in its wake. The sky
+was gray, the sea leaden. The horizon all around seemed to be
+contracting, and the familiar islands were losing their height.
+
+They ran to leeward of the breaker on Gully Ledge, and passed into
+smooth water under the protecting barrier of Seal Island. Pliny
+Ferguson's shack was in plain view, and its owner came out and swung his
+hand to them. Spurling remembered Captain Higgins's advice, and
+hesitated.
+
+"What do you say, Perce? I'll put it up to you. Shall we keep on or stop
+here with Pliny? Seems to me there isn't the least doubt about our
+reaching the island before dark; but I don't want to make you run any
+needless risk. So I'll do as you say. Pliny'll be glad to make us
+comfortable, and we can slip across after the gale is over."
+
+Percy scanned the steep, desolate cliffs a half-mile to the north.
+
+"What would you do if you were alone, Jim?"
+
+"Make for Tarpaulin as fast as oars would take me."
+
+"Then I say keep on!"
+
+"Keep on it is, then," assented Spurling.
+
+Shielded from the wind by the high shore, the dory sped on east by
+south. The island was over a mile long. When they emerged from the
+protection of the ledges on its eastern end they could see that the
+breeze had increased in force. Up to windward in the direction of Isle
+au Haut Bay occasional white-caps were breaking.
+
+Spurling stopped rowing and took a long look around. Then he pulled off
+his sweater, settled himself firmly on the thwart, and braced his heels
+against the timber nailed across the bottom of the dory. His oar-blades
+caught the water with a long, steady stroke.
+
+"We'll head north of the island," he said to Percy, after a few minutes
+of vigorous rowing. "The flood'll be running for the next three hours,
+and that'd naturally set us toward the north; but before we get to
+Tarpaulin the wind'll be blowing us the other way. We've got to allow
+for both."
+
+Fifteen minutes went by, thirty, a full hour. Little by little Seal
+Island sank behind them and the familiar outlines of Tarpaulin loomed
+clearer and higher. The increasing breeze, blowing against the ocean
+current, kicked up a lively chop, on which the dory danced skittishly.
+It took all Spurling's strength and skill to drive her onward.
+
+At four o'clock they still had between four and five miles to go. The
+sea was alive with white horses. As the boat fell into the trough Percy
+momentarily lost sight of the island. He now recognized Spurling's
+wisdom in heading so far north of their goal. But for that they would
+inevitably have been blown off their course.
+
+Jim was buckling to his task like a Trojan. Bare-headed, shirt open at
+the neck, sleeves rolled up above his elbows, he swayed to and fro, a
+tireless, human machine. His blades entered the rough sea cleanly and
+came out on the feather. Admiringly, almost enviously, Percy watched the
+play of the banded muscles on his brawny forearms. He would have given
+anything to be as strong as his dory-mate.
+
+Past five o'clock, and still over two miles to the island. It was
+growing rougher every minute. The gale had fairly begun. It sheared the
+crests off the racing billows and flung them over the boat in showers of
+spray. Now and then a bucketful came aboard. It kept Percy busy bailing.
+
+Occasionally Jim brought the dory head to the wind and lay on his oars
+to rest. After all, human muscles, powerful as they may be, are not
+steel and india-rubber.
+
+"Pretty rough, isn't it?" said he, at one of these intervals. "Seasick,
+old man? You look a little white around the gills."
+
+Percy shook his head. The situation was too serious for seasickness. In
+spite of the jocularity of his words, Jim's voice sounded hollow. Both
+of them knew that it meant a hard fight to reach Tarpaulin.
+
+Silence, gray and leaden as the misty sky, settled over the dory.
+Spurling was throwing all the strength he possessed into every stroke;
+Percy bailed continuously. It took considerably more than an hour to
+make the next mile and a half. A rainy haze, driving down from the
+north, had shrouded the island, and Brimstone Point was barely visible.
+
+Jim's strokes were slower; they lacked their earlier force. His face
+showed the strain of the last hour. Uneasily Percy noted these signs of
+weariness.
+
+"Tired, Jim?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The brief monosyllable struck Percy with dismay. If Spurling's strength
+should give out, what would happen to the dory?
+
+"Don't you want me to row awhile?"
+
+"You can take her for a few minutes."
+
+Scrambling forward, Percy grasped the oars and took Jim's place on the
+thwart. The latter lay down flat on his back in the bottom of the dory.
+Apparently he was not far from complete exhaustion.
+
+"Keep her up into the wind as well as you can," he directed.
+
+Percy did his best; but he found it a hard job. The gale, now far
+stronger than the tide that flowed against it under the surface, was
+forcing them steadily southward. Brimstone Point could just be seen, a
+half-mile to the northeast.
+
+Though he pulled his heart out, Percy could tell that he was losing
+ground, or rather water, every second. The wind mocked his efforts. He
+could not keep the boat on her course. Big rollers swashed against the
+port bow and broke aboard. Jim raised a drenched face, haggard with
+weariness, and took in the situation.
+
+"Harder, Perce!" he urged. "Hold her up till I can get my breath. It's
+the ocean for us to-night, if we don't hit Brimstone."
+
+Spurred by this exhortation, Percy jerked at the oars savagely and
+unskilfully. As he swayed back there was a sharp snap, and the starboard
+oar broke squarely, just above the blade.
+
+Round swung the dory, head to the south. Up started Spurling with a cry
+of alarm, his fatigue forgotten.
+
+"You've done it now!"
+
+Wrenching the port oar from his horrified mate, he sprang aft, dropped
+it in the notch on the stern, headed the boat once more for the island,
+and began sculling with all his might.
+
+It was a hopeless attempt. However strong he might be, no man with only
+one oar could make headway into the teeth of such a gale. For a time his
+desperate efforts held the dory in her place. Then little by little she
+began to go astern.
+
+With sinking heart Percy watched Spurling's shoulders rack and twist as
+he threw his last ounce into his sculling. By degrees his motions became
+slower and more painful. Suddenly he pulled in the oar and dropped it
+clattering aboard.
+
+"No use!" he groaned as he toppled backward and collapsed in the bottom
+of the dory.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+BUOY OR BREAKER
+
+
+Consternation seized Percy. Never before had he known Jim to acknowledge
+himself beaten. Their plight must be serious indeed.
+
+The dory swung side to the sea and sank into the trough. A half-barrel
+of water slopped aboard. Percy bestirred himself. Setting the oar in the
+scull-hole, he brought the boat's head once more into the wind. He was
+not strong enough to drive her against it; but he could at least keep
+her pointed into the teeth of the gale and prevent her from swamping. He
+dropped to his knees, for it was too rough for him to keep his balance
+if he stood upright.
+
+How far off was Tarpaulin? As he looked back a red glare sprang up
+northeast. Budge and Throppy had fired the driftwood beacon on Brimstone
+Point. Small good it would do Jim and himself to-night.
+
+They could not reach the island with one oar, and it was now too dark
+for their friends on Tarpaulin to make out the drifting dory.
+
+Percy began sculling frantically.
+
+"Hi! Hi! Hulloo-oo!" he yelled. "Oh, Budge! Oh, Throppy! We're going to
+sea! Come out and get us!"
+
+It was like shouting against a solid wall. His cries were whirled away
+by the gale. Presently he became silent, realizing that he was wasting
+his breath.
+
+Rapidly the dory drifted seaward. The fire dimmed to a misty red glow. A
+smart shower burst, and great drops spattered over the dory.
+
+Jim sat up. He turned his face toward the island, and Percy knew his
+eyes had caught the dying beacon. He said nothing; there was nothing to
+say. In a little while all was black, north, east, south, and west.
+
+Then Jim spoke, and his voice was as calm and deliberate as if he were
+in the cabin on the island, instead of a mile to leeward, driving to sea
+before a norther.
+
+"Well, Perce, we're in for it! I'm sorry I spoke so sharp when you broke
+that oar. It's an accident liable to happen to anybody. Let's take
+account of stock! We're in for a night and more on the water, and we
+want to do our best to keep on top of it, and not under it, until the
+gale blows itself out. The prospect isn't exactly rosy; still, it might
+be a blamed sight worse. We're in a good dory, and that's the best sea
+boat that floats."
+
+"Aren't we likely to be picked up before morning?"
+
+"Pretty slim chance. Everything small has scooted to harbor long before
+this. We haven't any light, and a vessel or steamer large enough to pay
+no attention to the storm would be as liable to run us down as to pick
+us up. So about the best we can hope for is to have everything give us a
+wide berth until daylight."
+
+"Will the gale last as long as that?"
+
+"Longer, I'm afraid. 'Most always we have one good, big norther in
+August that blows two or three days. I'm really the one to blame for
+getting us into this mess. I know the sea, and you don't. I ought to
+have had brains enough to stop on Seal Island. Well, it's no use crying
+over spilled milk. The only thing now is to try not to spill any more."
+
+The rain was descending in torrents. Storm and night drew a narrow
+circle of gloom about the reeling boat.
+
+Spurling tried to rise to his feet. The dory jumped like a bucking
+horse, and he caught the gunwale just in time to escape being pitched
+overboard.
+
+"Jerusalem!" he gasped. "Guess I won't try that again! Hands and knees
+are good enough for me. Hold her, Perce! I'll throw out some of this
+water."
+
+Kneeling in the flood that swashed from bow to stern, he bailed
+vigorously until the boat was fairly clear.
+
+"No use wearing ourselves out trying to keep her head to it with the
+oar!" said he. "I'm going to rig a drug!"
+
+Directly under Percy's arms, as he sculled, was a trawl-tub containing
+their purchases at Matinicus. These Jim tossed into the stern. Taking
+the tub, he crept forward. A lanyard of six-thread manila, put across
+double between holes in the top of its sides, formed a rope bridle or
+bail. To the middle of this bail Jim tied the thirty-foot painter with a
+clove hitch. Then he dropped the tub over the bow.
+
+"Pull in your oar, Perce!" he called out.
+
+Percy obeyed gladly. A heavy sea struck the dory. She reared, shot back,
+and started to swing sidewise. Then the "drug" caught her, and she
+seesawed again up into the wind and rode springily.
+
+The tub, filled with water, and drifting on its side thirty feet before
+the bow at the end of the straightened-out painter, formed a floating
+anchor, which held the dory head to the wind and sea. Practically
+submerged, and offering the gale no surface to get hold of, it moved
+much more slowly than the high-sided boat, and so retarded its course.
+
+Jim came crawling aft again.
+
+"Guess that'll hold her!" he exclaimed. "I've strengthened the lanyard
+with some ground-line, and it ought to last us through the night. We'll
+be as snug as if we were in Sprowl's Cove, hey, Perce?"
+
+Percy could hardly agree with him. The roaring, rain-shot blackness,
+roofed with murky clouds and floored with rushing surges, was not
+calculated to inspire confidence in a landsman. With every sea the dory
+leaped back several feet, until the straightened painter brought her up.
+Showers of spray flew over the boys. It was well both were clad in
+oilskins.
+
+They were not entirely without light. The water was firing. Every
+breaking wave dissolved in phosphorescence. The tub before the bow was
+outlined in radiance; the whipping painter was transmuted to a rope of
+silver; and as the dory split the crashing rollers they streamed away in
+sparkles of ghostly flame. Even in their peril the boys could not help
+appreciating the weird beauty of the display.
+
+"Wonderful, isn't it?" said Percy. "Say, Jim, how far south's the
+nearest land?"
+
+"Somewhere around two thousand miles, I guess. Too far to interest us
+any. I think it's one of the West Indies."
+
+The wind was growing stronger, the sea rougher. Now and then a young
+flood set both boys bailing, Jim with the bucket, Percy with the scoop.
+
+"Won't do to let it gain too much on us," remarked Jim. "She can't sink;
+but if she should fill it'd be pretty uncomfortable."
+
+The rain had ceased; the clouds did not hang so low. Suddenly Percy gave
+a whoop of joy.
+
+"Look in the west!"
+
+Not far above the horizon appeared a rift of clear blue sky, sown with
+stars. Longer and wider it grew. Other rifts added themselves to it, and
+in an unbelievably short time the entire heaven was swept clean. But
+somehow the wind seemed to blow harder than before.
+
+"How soon will it calm down?" asked Percy.
+
+Jim shook his head.
+
+"Can't say! May be a dry blow for two days longer."
+
+He looked eastward.
+
+"What's that coming? Steamer?"
+
+Sure enough it was. Below the white light on the masthead appeared and
+disappeared the red and green, obscured intermittently by the tossing
+waves. Soon they could be seen all the time. Percy began to grow
+excited.
+
+"Suppose they'll pick us up?"
+
+"Not a chance in a thousand. It's too rough for the lookout to spy our
+boat, and, even if the steamer should come close, we could never make
+her hear. She's either a tramp or an ocean liner from Halifax for
+Portland."
+
+On she plowed unswervingly and majestically, straight toward them.
+
+"I'm afraid she's coming too near for comfort," said Jim, anxiously.
+"She might run us down and never know it. Lots of fishermen have gone
+that way. Ship that oar in the scull-hole. I'm going to haul in the
+drug."
+
+He lifted the trawl-tub aboard and sprang quickly aft.
+
+"We'll know pretty quick whether she's likely to pass ahead or astern.
+We can't count on being seen. We've got to look out for ourselves."
+
+Freed from its floating anchor, the dory bobbed wildly. Wielding his oar
+skilfully, Spurling held her bow to the north, ready to scull for the
+last inch, or to let her drop back, as the approach of the steamer might
+make it advisable.
+
+Closer and closer came the big boat; her lights oscillated with
+pendulum-like regularity as she rolled on the heavy seas.
+
+"She'll pass astern," was Jim's verdict. "Won't do to drift in front of
+her."
+
+He sculled strongly, keeping an anxious eye on the threatening monster.
+Percy's hair bristled.
+
+"Harder, Jim!" he shouted. "She's going to run us down! Steamer ahoy!
+Keep off! Keep off!"
+
+The rushing foam smothered his cries. Meanwhile Spurling worked like a
+steam-engine. Two lives hung on his oar-blade.
+
+As the knife-like stem sheared past, close astern, the green eye
+disappeared; the red glared menacingly down from the huge bulk looming
+overhead. Then the lofty black side swept by, flashing an occasional ray
+from a lighted port-hole. The screw gave them a sickening moment, but
+they soon tossed safely astern, breathing hard, eyes on the dwindling
+leviathan, wallowing westward.
+
+Jim spoke first: "Close as they make 'em! I'm glad that's over!"
+
+Percy agreed with all his heart. Jim had discovered that the tub was
+becoming a bit shaky, so he reinforced the lanyard, and strengthened the
+bottom by binding it with ground-line. Before long it was towing again
+in front of the bow, as good as new.
+
+Hours passed, but the intensity of the gale did not slacken. The sea was
+frightfully rough. It kept the boys bailing continually.
+
+Dawn broke at last. On the eastern horizon grew a pale light, against
+which the ragged, savagely leaping crests were silhouetted weirdly. It
+brightened to a crimson glow, and soon the sun was shooting its fiery
+arrows across the heaving, glittering waste.
+
+The forenoon wore slowly on as they drifted steadily south. The water
+around the dory was alive with whirlpools. Gigantic green seas rushed
+down as if to overwhelm her, but she flirted her bow aloft and rode them
+stanchly.
+
+Percy, glancing to starboard, saw a black fin cutting the slope of a
+watery ridge.
+
+"Shark, Jim?"
+
+"Yes. And there's another to port. They're looking for trouble. They'll
+stick by till we're out of this scrape or in a worse one."
+
+He was right. The sun reached its zenith and began to descend, but still
+the black fins wove their ceaseless circles round the boat.
+
+Jim had been scanning the sea, hand over his eyes.
+
+"There's a schooner," he remarked, without enthusiasm.
+
+Percy was all excitement.
+
+"Where? Where?"
+
+"Up there, two miles to windward. Double reefed and clawing west. She'd
+never see us in a thousand years, and if she did she couldn't do us any
+good. Forget her!"
+
+The schooner inched her way imperceptibly under the horizon. The boys
+had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours; excitement had prevented them
+from feeling hungry. Now they came to a realization that they had
+stomachs, and they finished half the hard bread remaining in the bag.
+
+"We'll save the rest," decided Jim. "May need it worse later than we do
+now."
+
+Percy could easily have eaten twice his share, but he recognized the
+wisdom of Jim's decision. Both were very thirsty, but without a drop of
+fresh water aboard there was nothing to do but wait.
+
+At four o'clock came disaster. The drug suddenly let go!
+
+Round whirled the dory, side to the seas. Jim grabbed the oar and jammed
+it into the scull-hole, but before he could wet the blade a crumbling
+roller almost swamped the boat. Out went everything that would float.
+
+"Save that bucket, Perce!" shouted Spurring.
+
+Percy clutched the handle just as the pail was going over the side. He
+bailed, while Spurling brought the flooded craft stern to the seas.
+
+"Take her now, Perce! Give me the bucket!"
+
+Furiously he began scooping out the water. After a long, discouraging
+fight the boat was bailed clear.
+
+"We've got to run before it while I rig another drug," said Spurling.
+"Keep her as she is."
+
+In the stern stood a five-gallon can of gasolene, one of the few things
+that had not been washed overboard when the dory filled. Making use of
+the sadly diminished coil of ground-line, Jim fastened this can to the
+end of the painter. Picking a smooth chance, he swung the bow up into
+the wind again; and soon they were floating snugly behind their new
+drug.
+
+For another hour they drifted uneventfully. Out of a cloudless sky the
+red sun dropped below the flying spindrift. A second night was coming,
+and still the norther raged with undiminished violence.
+
+It was growing dark and the stars were already out when a new sound fell
+on Percy's ears.
+
+"What's that?" he exclaimed.
+
+Up from the south came a faint, long-drawn, mournful voice,
+_Oo-oo-oo-ooh!_ They listened breathlessly. It sounded again,
+_Oo-oo-oo-ooh!_
+
+"Whistling buoy!" ejaculated Jim. He thought a moment. "Cashe's Ledge!"
+he shouted. "Sixty miles south of Tarpaulin! That's drifting some since
+yesterday afternoon. Must be less than a mile to leeward or we couldn't
+hear it against this gale."
+
+Nearer and nearer, louder and louder, sounded the melancholy note, just
+west of south. Both boys strained their eyes.
+
+"I see it!" cried Percy, triumphantly. "There--rising on that swell!
+Almost astern! It's striped red and black!"
+
+But Jim gave him no heed. Lips parted and face pale, he was gazing
+intently at something farther off. Suddenly he lifted his hand.
+
+"Listen! Do you hear that?"
+
+Above the noise of the surrounding sea rose a low, savage roar. Percy
+caught Jim's alarm.
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"The breaker on the shoal! Sometimes it combs up high as a house. It's
+less than a quarter-mile southwest of the buoy, and we're drifting
+straight down upon it! If we go over it, we'll be swamped, sure as fate,
+drug or no drug! We'll simply be buried under tons and tons of water!"
+
+Percy fought off his panic.
+
+"What shall we do?" he stammered.
+
+"Make the whistler--if we can. It's buoy or breaker, and mighty quick,
+too!"
+
+The dory's drift, if unchanged, would take her several yards west of the
+steel can crowned with its red whistle-cage. Its warning blast set the
+air vibrating, _Oo-oo-oo-ooh!_
+
+Jim snatched out his knife and sprang forward.
+
+"Oar in the scull-hole, Perce! Lively!"
+
+Driving the point of his blade into the side of the bow, he dragged the
+painter in until he reached the gasolene-can. Severing the rope with one
+quick, strong slash, he scrambled aft and seized the oar.
+
+"Stand by with that painter to jump for the buoy, when I put the bow
+against it! Better take off your shoes first!"
+
+Percy obeyed. In his stocking feet he would be less liable to slip on
+the wet iron. Making a loose coil of the painter, he crouched in the
+bow. Meanwhile Jim had turned the dory round and headed her north of the
+whistler. A strong current was setting toward the shoal. It took all his
+strength to scull against it.
+
+Rapidly they neared the can. About eight feet in diameter at the
+water-line, it tapered to two feet across its flat top, seven feet
+above. From the circumference rose two iron bails, crossing each other
+at right angles, several inches above the whistle, which stood two and
+one-half feet high. A little to one side stuck up the small tube of the
+intake valve. Round the buoy above the water-line were bolted four lugs,
+or iron handles, by which the can could be hoisted on board the
+lighthouse steamer.
+
+As the steel cone sank the whistle bellowed resonantly. Down, down, till
+the waves swept over its top. Then, slowly it began to rise. The
+bellowing cut off, and the air rushed into the intake tube.
+
+Percy watched it, fascinated. Jim's voice roused him to their peril.
+
+"Look sharp! Be ready!"
+
+Less than ten feet of wild black water lay between the madly leaping bow
+and the buoy. Beyond it the shoal broke with an angry roar in a long
+line of crumbling foam. Percy gathered his strength for the leap.
+
+The distance lessened, foot by foot. Foot by foot the red-and-black cone
+emerged, as if thrust up by a giant hand. Percy fastened his eyes on a
+lug.
+
+A grayback heaved the dory forward.
+
+"Now!" screamed Jim.
+
+Young Whittington sprang upon the bow thwart, painter end in his right
+hand, and leaped for the lug. A second later the boat crashed against
+the buoy.
+
+His left hand caught the bent iron bar; his right missed it. His body
+thudded against the riveted side, slid down, and he hung by one arm,
+waist-deep in the water.
+
+OO-OO-OO-OOH!!!
+
+From the inverted mouth of the whistle, a few feet above, a hoarse,
+deafening blast roared down into his face.
+
+As he flung up his right hand and passed the end of the painter through
+the lug a body shot over his head. Spurling had leaped on the top of the
+dropping buoy. Percy was dragged down under the surface, the whistle
+still ringing in his ears. He clung desperately to lug and painter.
+
+The vibrations ceased. The can had reached its lowest point. It was
+rising again. Out came his head.
+
+"Can you hold on a minute, Perce?" roared Spurling's voice.
+
+"Yes," strangled Percy.
+
+"Then let go that painter! I've got it."
+
+Hanging head down, his legs twined round a bail, Spurling worked rapidly
+with both hands. Soon he had fastened the rope securely to the lug,
+mooring the dory to the buoy.
+
+OO-OO-OO-OOH!
+
+The can was sinking again. Putting both hands under Percy's arms, Jim
+lifted him. Then he lowered his grip to the boy's waist. That terrific
+blast rendered speech inaudible, but Percy understood. As the water
+raised part of his weight, he scrambled up over his friend's body.
+
+Thirty seconds later, drenched and gasping, they stood clinging to the
+bails on the top of the buoy.
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+ON THE WHISTLER
+
+
+Jim was the first to recover his breath.
+
+"Well!" he ejaculated. "Here we are! And mighty fortunate! We'll neither
+of us ever have a closer shave."
+
+He looked southwest, where the ledge was breaking white through the
+gloom, and shook his head. Percy, shivering with excitement, said
+nothing; but he felt as thankful as his mate. They stood close together
+on the circular top, holding on to the crossed bails, waist-high.
+Between them rose the whistle, thirty inches tall. Every time they sank
+in the trough it emitted its dismal bellow.
+
+To leeward the dory wallowed at the end of her painter, almost full of
+water.
+
+"Split her bow when we struck," said Spurling. "Just as well not to be
+in her. At any rate, we're not drifting."
+
+Their position, however, was none too secure. The buoy had a rise and
+fall of seven feet. Unsteadied by keel or rudder, it bobbed unexpectedly
+this way and that. The boys were obliged to cling fast to keep their
+footing on the narrow, slippery top.
+
+A sudden jump of the rolling can wrenched Percy's right hand from its
+hold. But for his left, he would have been flung into the sea.
+
+"That won't do," said Spurling.
+
+Producing a coil of line, he took three or four turns round Percy's
+waist, and lashed him fast to the bails. He did the same for himself.
+
+"Guess we'll stick on now," he remarked.
+
+"Where did you get that rope?" asked Percy.
+
+"It's all that's left of the ground-line. Thought it might come in
+handy, so I jammed it inside my oil-coat before I jumped. Never can tell
+when you'll need a few feet for something or other."
+
+The screech of the buoy, recurring regularly, set their ears ringing.
+
+"We've got to choke that off!" exclaimed Spurling, finally. "We'll go
+crazy, sure, if we have to listen to it all night."
+
+"How'll you do it? Jam something into the mouth of the whistle?"
+
+"Might smother it that way, but I know an easier one."
+
+He pushed his handkerchief into the curved end of the intake tube just
+as the bellowing buoy reached its lowest point. The next time it sank
+there was no sound.
+
+"Can't sing out unless it fills up with air," remarked Spurling. "It's
+human, so far!"
+
+"Is it all right to shut the signal off altogether? Mightn't some vessel
+strike the shoal if she doesn't hear it?"
+
+"Not much chance of that to-night! Everything'll give Cashe's a wide
+berth in a norther. But I'll let it scream a few times every ten
+minutes. That'll be often enough to warn off any craft within
+hearing."
+
+[Illustration: THEY STOOD CLOSE TOGETHER ON THE CIRCULAR TOP, HOLDING ON
+TO THE CROSSED BAILS, WAIST-HIGH]
+
+The last red embers of the sunset died out, and from horizon to horizon
+the sky was ablaze with stars. Even the boys, wet, hungry, and
+exhausted, could not be blind to such magnificence.
+
+"Good evening to study astronomy, Perce!"
+
+"Never saw a finer! But I'd want a steadier foundation than this for my
+telescope."
+
+As on the previous night, the sea was aglow with phosphorescence. Every
+wave was crested with silver. Buoy and tugging dory kept the water alive
+with light as they rose and fell. Leeward the long shoal broke in
+glittering foam.
+
+Spurling gazed silently down into the eddying tide.
+
+"Runs fast, doesn't it?" said Percy.
+
+"Yes; it's the ebb out of Fundy. Comes piling down over Cashe's at a
+two-knot rate. When the flood begins it'll run just as hard the other
+way. That's what makes the shoal so dangerous. There's only from four to
+seven fathoms over the ledge at low water, and that's little enough in a
+storm."
+
+"Were you ever down here before?"
+
+"No; but I've heard Uncle Tom Sprowl tell about the place dozens of
+times. Once, in particular, he was here in a schooner, hand-lining. It
+was almost calm, just a light east wind blowing, when they anchored an
+eighth of a mile to weather of the shoal. Pretty soon the decks were
+alive with fish. It kept breezing on all the time, and the ledge broke
+higher and higher; but they were having such good luck they hated to
+leave. So they hung to it till it got too rough for a small boat, and
+the breaker was twenty or thirty feet high. There was a big cod or
+haddock on every line, when all of a sudden the cable parted and they
+began to blow down on the ledge. It took some lively work to save the
+schooner and themselves. They got sail on her just in time to skin by
+the end of the breaker. Uncle Tom's been out in some pretty bad storms,
+but he's always said the time he parted his cable on Cashe's was the
+closest shave he ever had. See that shark!"
+
+Ten yards off, just under the surface, appeared the glittering outlines
+of a great fish. It moved leisurely, its projecting fin making a silver
+ripple.
+
+"Twelve feet, if he's an inch! I'd hate to fall overboard while he's
+around."
+
+"Think he's a man-eater?"
+
+"Don't know! But I'd rather let somebody else find out. There's another!
+I've heard fishermen say the sea round here's alive with 'em. I haven't
+a doubt but those two fellows that chased us to-day are somewhere about.
+Once they get after a boat, they'll follow it till the cows come home.
+Guess I'll let Ole Bull give us a few notes!"
+
+He pulled his handkerchief out of the intake tube. Presently the voice
+of the whistle was echoing across the sea. After a half-dozen screeches
+Spurling stopped up the tube again.
+
+"That'll do for now! We'll give him another chance in ten minutes."
+
+Up and down went the buoy, pitching and reeling dizzily. An occasional
+wave-crest buried the boys to the waist.
+
+"No place for a man with a weak stomach, hey, Perce," said Spurling.
+"You couldn't have stood this two months ago."
+
+Percy was gazing intently southward.
+
+"What's that white spot?" he asked, suddenly, pointing to a glittering
+patch fifty or sixty yards square.
+
+"School of herring! Now look out for some fun! Something's liable to be
+after 'em any minute."
+
+Hardly had the words left Jim's mouth when a great white streak moved
+rapidly toward the schooling fish.
+
+"Whale!" shouted Spurling, excitedly. "Watch out!"
+
+With a tremendous rush the huge, gleaming body shot suddenly clear of
+the water. For an instant it hung suspended, ten feet above the surface.
+Then, with a mighty splash, it dropped back, right amid the herring. The
+glittering school dispersed in a thousand directions, and the monster
+moved slowly off to the south.
+
+"Biggest whale I ever saw," observed Jim. "Fully seventy feet long!
+Well, he's had one good meal. Wish we could say the same! Hungry, old
+man?"
+
+"Yes; but more thirsty."
+
+"Stick to it! Somebody's likely to show up at any time to-morrow and
+take us off."
+
+"But if they don't--"
+
+"We'll have to hang on till they do."
+
+Percy could hardly stand upright. His joints ached. His eyelids sagged
+heavily for want of sleep. He would have given anything if he could have
+lain down. But that was impossible. Something of his father's
+doggedness enabled him to set his teeth and stand clinging to the bails.
+
+Their plight was bad enough, but it might have been much worse. Percy
+shivered a bit as he looked at the wallowing dory and the breaker beyond
+it.
+
+The buoy could not drift. It could not founder. It afforded them a safe
+refuge from wind and sea; but it could not give them food or drink.
+
+Particularly drink. Every atom in Percy's body, every corpuscle in his
+blood, seemed to be crying out for water. It did not seem as if he could
+endure it. He was almost desperate enough to quench his thirst from the
+sea. But, no! Men who did that went crazy. He moistened his dry lips
+with his tongue. If only he could have had a full dipper from the spring
+behind the camp! And he had turned up his nose because it was brackish!
+
+"Wish I had some of Filippo's hot biscuits!" said Jim. "I can taste 'em
+now."
+
+"Don't, Jim! It makes me feel worse. How long can a man stand it without
+eating and drinking?"
+
+"There was a fisherman out of Bass Harbor, last October, who went in a
+power-boat to Clay Bank after hake. His engine played out and he got
+blown off by a northwester. For over five days he didn't have a thing to
+eat or drink. Then he got back to Mount Desert Rock. That's the longest
+I ever heard of."
+
+Five days! And they had not yet gone two. Percy became silent again.
+
+The night dragged painfully. With mortal slowness the Great Bear circled
+the Pole Star. Jim was acquainted with the principal constellations, and
+he ran them over for Percy's benefit. Gradually, however, their
+conversation lagged. You cannot feel much interest in astronomy when
+your eyes feel as if they were being pressed down by leaden weights and
+your stomach is absolutely empty.
+
+Percy's body drooped over the bails. Though the position was horribly
+uncomfortable, he had all he could do to prevent himself from going to
+sleep, even despite the occasional screeches of the whistle. With an
+immense effort he stiffened himself upright. Jim was gazing down into
+the water.
+
+"It's going to moderate before long," he remarked, casually.
+
+Percy came wide awake in an instant.
+
+"How can you tell? It's blowing as hard as ever."
+
+"I know that. But the tide doesn't run so strong against the buoy. Just
+as it always makes up before the wind comes, so it begins to go down
+before the wind lessens. I believe the gale'll blow itself out by the
+middle of the forenoon."
+
+The news seemed too good to be true; but it dispelled Percy's
+drowsiness. He pried his eyes open and stared around.
+
+The waves were still running high and breaking in fiery sparkles. The
+silver sharks unwearyingly kept their silent vigil about the rocking
+buoy. Up the eastern horizon was stealing a faint pallor, harbinger of
+the approaching dawn.
+
+Lighter and lighter it grew. The gulls, which had been floating on the
+water all night, began to take wing and fill the air with their grating
+cries. The phosphorescence died out of the sea. Another day had begun.
+
+Raising his right hand, Spurling turned its open palm toward the north.
+
+"What did I tell you?" he exclaimed. "The wind is going down."
+
+Even Percy could see that it was not blowing so hard. The water, too,
+had grown much smoother, and the roar of the breaker was not so loud.
+
+"It'll be calm as a mill-pond in a few hours," remarked Jim. "By noon
+there ought to be some fishermen out here. They always start from
+Portland on the end of a norther, and run for this buoy to make their
+grounds from. All we've got to do now is to hold on and wait."
+
+He pulled in the dory and looked her carefully over.
+
+"Bow split open, as I thought," said he. "But apart from that she isn't
+damaged any. A little work'll make her as good as new. And in the stern
+is that box with the piston-rod in it. I'd have hated to lose that,
+after all this fuss. Things might have turned out a good deal worse, eh,
+Perce? But the next time I'll know enough to hang up at Seal Island."
+
+Jim's cheerfulness was contagious. Percy felt better. Though he was
+still tormented by hunger and thirst, the thought that relief might soon
+come gave him courage to endure them. Jim let the dory slip back to the
+end of her painter.
+
+"Might as well take an Indian breakfast."
+
+He buckled his belt a hole tighter.
+
+"Not a sail in sight yet! We could lie down in the dory and go to sleep,
+if she wasn't full of water. But, as things are, we'll have to make
+ourselves as comfortable as we can right here. Let's hope it won't be
+for long!"
+
+The gale weakened to a brisk breeze. The sea fell rapidly to a long,
+lazy swell, on which the buoy rocked drowsily. The warm sun inclined the
+boys to sleep; but they fought it off and scanned the horizon with eager
+eyes. Seven o'clock. Eight. Nine. Ten. And still no sign of a sail.
+
+At half past ten a smoke-feather rose in the east.
+
+"Yarmouth boat on her way to Boston," said Jim. "She'll pass too far
+north to see us."
+
+He was right. The steamer's course kept her on the horizon, several
+miles off. Before long she vanished to the west. Half past eleven went
+by, and no fishermen appeared. Percy began to fear that Jim was
+mistaken, after all.
+
+"Here comes our packet," remarked Spurling, quietly.
+
+A tiny saw-tooth of canvas was rising out of the sea, miles northwest.
+As it grew larger it developed into a schooner under full sail, heading
+straight for the buoy.
+
+"She sees us," said Jim.
+
+Percy felt like dancing for joy. Nearer and nearer came the schooner.
+The boys could see her crew staring curiously at them from along her
+rail. Fifty yards off she shot up into the wind and prepared to launch a
+boat. They could read the name on her starboard bow.
+
+"The _Grade King_," spelled Spurling. "I know her. She's a Harpswell
+vessel. Come out to seine herring. Bet she left Portland early this
+morning. Her captain's Silas Greenlaw; he used to sail with Uncle Tom.
+He'll use us O. K."
+
+A dory with two men in it came rowing toward the buoy.
+
+"How long've you fellows been hanging on here?" shouted a red-sweatered,
+gray-haired man in the stern.
+
+"Since six last night. We blew down from Tarpaulin Island in the
+norther. Don't you know me, Captain Greenlaw?"
+
+"Why, it's Jim Spurling, Tom Sprowl's nephew!" exclaimed the astonished
+captain. "So the gale blew you down from Tarpaulin, eh? Well, all I've
+got to say is that you were confounded lucky to hit the buoy and not the
+breaker. How long since you've had anything to eat or drink?"
+
+"Forty-six hours since we've had a swallow of water, and about twenty
+since we finished our last hard bread."
+
+"Well, well! You must be hungry and thirsty! Come right aboard and we'll
+see what we can do for you."
+
+Gladly the boys cut the lashings that bound them to the bails. The
+whistle gave a screech of farewell as they tumbled stiffly into the
+boat. The solid deck of the _Gracie_ felt good beneath their feet.
+
+"You can have all the water you want, boys; but you'd better go light on
+food at first," cautioned the captain.
+
+It seemed to Percy as if he could never get enough to drink. Gradually,
+however, his thirst was quenched. He began to realize that he had not
+slept for two days and a half.
+
+"I'd like to carry you right back to the island," said Captain Greenlaw,
+"for your friends must be worrying. But there are lots of herring here,
+and I've got to get a load first. That may take two or three days. I'll
+land you at Tarpaulin on my way home. Better turn in and sleep."
+
+The boys were shortly wrapped in a heavy, dreamless slumber. It seemed
+to them as if they had just closed their eyes when they were shaken
+awake again.
+
+"Here's the cutter!" exclaimed the captain. "They got a wireless to hunt
+you up. Going to run in to Rockland, and can land you at Tarpaulin this
+evening. What do you say?"
+
+Tired though they were, Jim and Percy were only too glad of a chance to
+get home speedily. So they were transferred to the _Pollux_, and their
+leaking dory hoisted aboard. Swung in hammocks in the seamen's quarters,
+they were soon slumbering dreamlessly again.
+
+At eight that night the _Pollux_ stopped off the island. The dory, made
+sound and tight by the ship's carpenter, was dropped overboard, and the
+boys rowed into Sprowl's Cove.
+
+Their appearance transformed the gloom that overhung Camp Spurling into
+the wildest joy. Budge, Throppy, and Filippo burst out of the cabin and
+raced headlong down the beach, waking the echoes with their shouts of
+welcome. Even before the dory grounded they tumbled aboard and flung
+their arms about the castaways. No brothers, reunited after deadly
+peril, could have given one another a warmer greeting.
+
+Jim freed his hands at last, stooped, and picked up a package which he
+tossed out on the gravel. There was a suspicious moisture in his eyes.
+
+"There's the piston-rod!" said he in a rather choky voice. "I guess
+we'll get our set all right day after to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+SQUARING AN ACCOUNT
+
+
+It was almost noon the next day before Jim and Percy rolled out of their
+bunks in Camp Spurling. One of Filippo's best dinners satisfied the last
+cravings of their appetites; but for a week they felt the strain of
+their forty-seven hours in the dory and on the buoy.
+
+"When did you reach the _Pollux_, Throppy?" asked Jim.
+
+"I didn't reach her at all. When you didn't show up that night I
+wirelessed Criehaven, and the operator there hit the cutter thirty miles
+to the westward the next forenoon. She began hunting for you right away,
+but it wasn't until twenty-four hours later that she found you on the
+_Gracie King_. We picked up a message from her some time after she took
+you off the schooner. Perhaps it didn't relieve our minds!"
+
+Jim drew a long breath as he glanced round the cabin.
+
+"Seems good to be here! Not a bad old camp, is it, Perce?"
+
+"Never saw a hotel I'd swap it for," replied Percy, promptly.
+
+Two mornings later Budge and Percy started in the sloop for Vinalhaven
+after a load of herring. Jim did not accompany them, as he had decided
+to spend a forenoon hauling and inspecting the lobster-traps. The
+_Barracouta_ ran in alongside Hardy's weir at nine o'clock and took
+aboard thirty bushels of small fish. She then went around to Carver's
+Harbor to purchase supplies and fill her tank with gasolene.
+
+It was Percy's first visit to the town since July 4th, the occasion of
+his disastrous encounter with Jabe. In actual time, his defeat lay only
+a few weeks back; but, measured by the change that had taken place in
+himself, the period might well have been years in length.
+
+Percy was treading hostile ground, and he knew it. Prudence might have
+counseled him to remain on board the _Barracouta_ while Budge was making
+his purchases. Instead, he chose to stroll carelessly along the main
+street. At a corner he passed a group of small boys, who recognized him
+at once.
+
+"It's the fresh guy Jabe licked on the Fourth," he heard one mutter in a
+low tone. "Let's have some fun with him!"
+
+"Sh!" exclaimed another. "Jabe's over in Talcott's grocery. We'll get
+'em together again!"
+
+Never interrupting his leisurely saunter, Percy passed out of hearing.
+But his heart was beating a little quicker and he was conscious of a
+tightening of nerves and muscles. Weeks of secret, painstaking
+preparation were drawing to a climax.
+
+Half-turning his head, he saw a barefooted urchin dash across the street
+and into a store on the other side. Percy began to whistle cheerfully as
+he strode along, alive to all that was taking place behind him.
+Crossing the street, he was able to glance back without appearing to do
+so; and he was just in time to see a stout, freckle-faced, bullet-headed
+youth shoot out of the store and come hurrying after him, with an eager
+crowd of small fry trailing behind.
+
+Still feigning unconsciousness of the approaching peril, Percy
+proceeded, whistling blithely. Through a gap between two buildings he
+had caught sight of a barn standing alone, some distance ahead and well
+to one side of the main street; its door was open, revealing a broad
+stretch of empty floor. He quickened his pace, and presently turned down
+the short street leading to the structure. Jabe and his retinue were
+less than fifty yards behind, and gaining rapidly. As Percy turned the
+corner they broke into a run.
+
+At that same instant young Whittington also began to sprint at top
+speed; and he kept up this pace as long as he felt sure the building on
+the corner concealed him from his pursuers. The second the sound of
+their approaching feet became audible he dropped into his former gait.
+He was now almost opposite the open door of the barn.
+
+His ears told him that Jabe and his crew had also swung into the
+cross-street.
+
+"Hey, there!" shouted a voice, roughly.
+
+Percy halted at once and wheeled about with affected surprise. A side
+glance into the barn told that its mows were well filled and that its
+floor was strewn with hayseed. Standing at ease, he awaited the approach
+of his foes.
+
+Jabe dashed up on the run. Five feet from Percy he came to a sudden stop
+and pushed his bulldog jaw out belligerently.
+
+"Well," he growled, scowling darkly, "I've got you at last just where I
+want you. You can't cry baby now and run to that big, black-haired
+fellow. I'm going to lick you good!"
+
+Percy stared at his enemy in mild wonder.
+
+"What for?" he queried, innocently.
+
+But the outward calm of his tones and manner did not betray, even
+remotely, what was going on beneath. His heart was pumping like an
+engine, the blood coursed hotly through his arteries, and all over his
+body his wiry muscles had tensed and knotted. Nine weeks of vigorous
+life in the open, combined with systematic exercise, taken with the
+possibility in view of some time squaring his account with Jabe, had
+made of him an antagonist that even an older, heavier boy might well
+hesitate to tackle.
+
+Of all this Jabe was ignorant. He saw before him the same fellow he had
+mastered on the evening of the Fourth, a little browner and
+clearer-eyed, possibly a little straighter and stouter, but still the
+same foe his fist had sent to the ground. Jabe knew of no reason why he
+could not easily repeat his victory, and he burned to do so in the
+presence of his admirers. Percy's harmless query roused him to
+unreasoning anger.
+
+"What for?" he mimicked. "What for? Why, because I always intend to
+finish what I begin; and I had you only half-licked when they pulled me
+off. Now I'm going to polish you up to the queen's taste. Hustle into
+that barn!"
+
+Percy allowed himself to be herded through the open door; it might have
+been noticed, however, that he was careful not to turn his back to Jabe,
+and that he stepped springily, with his feet well apart. Once inside,
+he slid his sole over the hayseed that covered the floor; it was no
+slipperier than the carpet of needles in that glade of the evergreens
+where he had practised daily with his improvised punching-bag since the
+second week in July. A quick glance about photographed on his brain the
+details of the arena in which he was so soon to play the gladiator.
+
+Jabe misunderstood the glance, and it increased his eagerness to begin
+the fray.
+
+"Afraid, are you?" he sneered. "Looking for some way out? Well, there
+isn't any besides this door. Line up across it, boys, and trip him if he
+tries to bolt before I get through with him. The rat's cornered at last,
+and now he's _got_ to fight. Peel off that coat, Mister! Move quick. I
+don't want to stop here all day!"
+
+Percy deliberately drew off the garment, folded it into a neat bundle,
+and laid it, with his cap, on a barrel in a corner of the floor. He had
+on a closely fitting black jersey, trousers held up by a belt, and
+rubber-soled tennis sneakers. This costume was not accidental. It had
+been donned that morning with an eye to possibilities and in accordance
+with previous solitary rehearsals. Thus far, events could not have
+suited him better if he had planned them.
+
+His deliberate motions increased Jabe's anger.
+
+"You'll move faster than that when I get after you," he sneered, "or
+it'll be over so quick that there won't be any fun in it. Now put up
+your fists, for I'm going to lick you within an inch of your life! Guard
+that door, boys!"
+
+His grinning satellites lined up across the opening, two deep, eyes and
+mouths wide open. In the front rank Percy recognized the imp who had
+burnt his coat, Jabe's brother, whose chastisement had started the
+trouble. The lad was dancing up and down with pleasurable anticipation.
+
+"Lick him, Jabe!" he shrilled. "Lick him, Jabe!"
+
+Swinging his clenched fists windmill fashion, Jabe made a savage rush
+across the echoing floor. Percy waited until his foe was almost upon
+him, then agilely leaped to one side. Carried on by the momentum of his
+charge, Jabe swept by and smashed against the wooden partition with a
+violence that set the hayseed sifting down from the loaded mow. Whirling
+about, he came back with increased rage.
+
+The boys yelled encouragement to their champion, their voices blending
+in a chorus, topped by his brother's high-keyed falsetto:
+
+"Lick him, Jabe! Lick him, Jabe!"
+
+Baffled in his first attempt, Jabe needed no applause to incite him to
+his best efforts. His fists rose and fell like flails as he spurned the
+flooring in a second onslaught upon his nimble foe. Again Percy,
+standing motionless until his assailant was almost within arm's-length,
+avoided his attack; and again Jabe brought up against the other wall
+with a force that made the boards rattle.
+
+Percy stood untouched a few feet away, smiling slightly, as his opponent
+gathered himself for another rush. The sight of his enemy, cool and
+unruffled, made Jabe furious.
+
+"Why don't you fight, you coward?" he cried. "If only I can reach you
+just once, it'll be all over!"
+
+He hurled himself forward like a missile from a catapult. His right
+fist grazed Percy's cheek. Roused from his policy of inaction, Percy
+shot in a stinging blow that found its mark under Jabe's right ear and
+sent him staggering. The fight was now fairly on.
+
+To and fro across the slippery hayseed the antagonists battled, raising
+a cloud of dust. The floor echoed hollowly under their quick tread.
+
+From the outset Percy knew that he had not a single sympathizer. But
+instead of discouraging him, that fact nerved him to do his utmost. He
+kept himself well in hand and did not waste an effort. If he could
+continue to side-step Jabe's quick rushes, and let the latter tire
+himself out, the fight was as good as won.
+
+It was a very different battle from that on July 4th. Jabe was as good
+as before, but no better; while Percy had improved at least a hundred
+per cent.; he had more skill and his nerves and muscles were far
+stronger. His rubber soles, too, gave him an advantage that he was not
+slow to improve. They assured him firm footing on the slippery floor and
+enabled him to turn quickly, as without trying to strike he contented
+himself with eluding Jabe's mad charges and sledge-hammer blows.
+
+The audience that blocked the door had grown silent. Things were not
+going according to schedule. After the first few rushes they had
+realized that their hero was getting the worst of the encounter.
+
+Ten minutes had gone by. Jabe was breathing hard, while Percy was fresh
+as ever. His cool smile maddened his antagonist and made him less
+skilful. In one of his onsets he had slammed his doubled fist against
+the wooden partition and split his knuckles; the pain and the running
+blood made him wild with rage.
+
+Confident at first of easy victory, he had finally realized that Percy
+was playing with him, that he had met his master in the boxing-game. His
+face had shown in turn anger, surprise, alarm, and at last positive
+fear. But one thought possessed his mind, to win at any cost, by fair
+means or foul. His rushes, which had slackened, grew more violent. He
+came at Percy head down; he tried to crowd him into a corner, to throw
+his arms around him, to overpower him by sheer, brute strength.
+
+Percy realized that in a rough-and-tumble he would be no match for Jabe.
+In legitimate boxing he had shown himself his foe's superior; and he was
+not particularly anxious to emphasize that fact by blacking Jabe's eyes
+or "bloodying" his nose. He would have been willing to let the matter
+stand where it was or allow Jabe to wear himself fruitlessly down to
+exhaustion. But such a course was neither feasible nor safe. Jabe would
+never voluntarily acknowledge that he was beaten. Besides, there was
+always the chance of something happening to put Percy at his mercy; and
+Percy knew only too well what that mercy would be.
+
+His only safety was to force a clear-cut decision.
+
+"It's a case of knock-out," he decided. "No use to bruise him up. Might
+as well have it over quick!"
+
+Savagely, though somewhat wearily, yet with undaunted determination,
+Jabe rushed him and struck out with his left. For the first time in the
+battle Percy launched in with all his strength. He cross-countered with
+his right on the point of Jabe's jaw.
+
+It was the wind-up. Jabe hit the hayseed in a heap. For a few seconds he
+lay motionless, then struggled to a sitting position.
+
+"Got enough?" asked Percy.
+
+Jabe took the count.
+
+"I'm licked," he acknowledged; and there were tears in his voice.
+
+"Can I do anything for you?"
+
+"No; I'll be all right in a little while."
+
+Percy put on his coat and cap and started toward the door. As he passed
+Jabe the latter stretched out his hand.
+
+"You can fight," he conceded, grudging admiration in his tones.
+
+Percy grasped the bunch of stubby fingers.
+
+"So can you," he returned. "If you'd been to the masters I've had, I
+wouldn't care to mix it with you."
+
+The boys opened a way for him respectfully as he passed through the
+door. He was breathing a little quicker than usual, but he had not
+received a scratch. Going back to the wharf where they had landed, he
+found that Budge had been waiting for him almost fifteen minutes.
+
+"What makes you so late, Perce?" he hailed. "We want to ship these
+groceries and start for Tarpaulin before noon."
+
+Percy began passing the boxes and bags down aboard the dory.
+
+"Sorry to have kept you waiting," he apologized. "But I've just been
+settling an account with an old friend."
+
+Then he told Lane of his encounter with Jabe.
+
+"Now," continued he, "I'll tell you why I've been up into the woods
+every afternoon with that sweater of rockweed. I made it into a tight
+bundle and hung it on a springy limb to use for a punching-bag. It
+wasn't very ornamental, but it served the purpose. I've been training
+for this fight ever since the Fourth; had a feeling I'd get another
+chance at him. It's over now, and I hope everybody's satisfied. I am, at
+any rate."
+
+"So that's the reason of your daily pilgrimages," laughed Lane. "You
+certainly have been faithful enough to deserve to win. But what if you'd
+never run across Jabe again? Wouldn't you have felt that you'd thrown
+away your time?"
+
+"Not a bit of it! That bout every afternoon has kept me in first-class
+shape. But now the great event has come off, I'm going to break training
+and give the rockweed a rest."
+
+The _Barracouta_ was back at Tarpaulin before three o'clock. A remark
+dropped by Budge roused the curiosity of the others, and Percy was
+obliged once more to recount the story of his fight with Jabe.
+
+"Well," said Jim, when he had finished, "they say a patient waiter is no
+loser; but I guess it depends a good deal on how you spend your time
+while you're waiting--eh, Perce?"
+
+That night, after dark, when the boys were preparing to turn in, Filippo
+stepped out to the fish-house for some kindling. He came back on the
+run.
+
+"_Fuoco!_" he panted.
+
+The others trooped out hastily. On the southern horizon flamed a ruddy
+light. Spurling gave a cry of alarm.
+
+"Boys, it's a vessel on fire!"
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+OLD FRIENDS
+
+
+Touched by the live wire of human sympathy, Camp Spurling came wide
+awake in an instant. Out there, four miles to the south, men were
+perhaps battling for their lives. Jim issued his orders like bullets.
+
+"Come on, boys! We'll take the _Barracouta_. Fetch a five-gallon can of
+gas from the fish-house, Perce! Budge and Throppy, launch that dory!"
+
+Dashing into the cabin, he quickly reappeared.
+
+"Thought I'd better get one of those first-aid packets! Somebody may be
+burnt bad. Now, fellows! Lively!"
+
+The dory was barely afloat when Percy came staggering down the beach
+with the heavy can. Spurling swung it aboard, and all but Filippo jumped
+in.
+
+"Start your fire again!" shouted back Jim to the Italian. "Make some
+coffee! And be sure to have plenty of hot water! We may need it."
+
+Soon the sloop was under way and heading out of the cove.
+
+"Lucky you thought of that fresh can of gas, Jim," said Budge. "The
+tank's pretty near empty. We'd have been in a nice fix if the engine had
+stopped about a mile south of the island."
+
+"Take the tiller, Perce!" ordered Spurling.
+
+Vaulting up out of the standing-room, he grasped the port shroud and
+fastened his eyes on the fiercely blazing vessel. The flames had run up
+her masts and rigging, and she stood out a lurid silhouette against the
+black horizon. It was evident that she was doomed.
+
+"She's gone!" was Jim's comment as he dropped back into the
+standing-room. "Hope her crew got off all right. There isn't much we can
+do to help; but at any rate we ought to go out and tow in her boats."
+
+"What is she? Fisherman?" asked Throppy.
+
+"Most likely! And not a very big one. Shouldn't wonder if she'd had a
+gas explosion in her cabin; I've heard of a good many such cases. Hope
+nobody's been burnt bad!"
+
+There were a few minutes of silence as they gazed on the spectacle of
+destruction. The _Barracouta_, driven to her utmost, steadily lessened
+the distance. Brighter and larger grew the fire; every detail on the
+fated craft stood sharply out against the pitchy background.
+
+"Here come two boats!" exclaimed Lane.
+
+Sure enough, they were clearly visible, more than two miles off, rising
+and falling on the swell, their oars flashing in the light from the
+conflagration. The crew had abandoned the hopeless fight and were saving
+themselves.
+
+"Keep her straight for 'em, Perce!" directed Jim.
+
+Whittington obeyed. Soon the _Barracouta_ was within hailing distance of
+the dories. In the now diminishing light from the distant fire the boys
+could see that both were crowded with dark figures.
+
+"Must be at least twenty-five aboard the two," commented Stevens.
+
+"Yes," returned Spurling. "These fishermen carry big crews. Ahoy there!
+What's the name of your vessel?"
+
+"The _Clementine Briggs_, of Gloucester," replied a man in the bow of
+the foremost dory. "Running in to Boothbay from Cashe's with a load of
+herring. The gas exploded and set her on fire. We tried to put it out,
+but it was no use. Just got clear with our lives and what we stood in."
+
+"Anybody hurt?"
+
+"Couple of men got their faces burnt, but not very bad. Lucky it was no
+worse. But the old schooner's gone. Pretty tough on Captain Sykes, here,
+for he owned most of her and didn't have much insurance. Fisherman's
+luck!"
+
+"Want a tow in to the island?"
+
+"Sure!"
+
+"Well, toss us your painter, and tell the other boat to make fast to
+your stern."
+
+In a very short time the _Barracouta_ was headed back for Tarpaulin,
+with the two heavily loaded dories trailing behind her. Delayed by her
+tow, she moved considerably slower than when coming out. A strange
+silence hung over the two dories. For fishermen, their crews were
+unusually quiet, sobered, evidently, by the catastrophe that had
+overtaken their schooner.
+
+"Wouldn't those men who were burnt like to come aboard the sloop?"
+inquired Spurling. "Perhaps I can give 'em first aid."
+
+"No," returned the spokesman. "One of 'em's Captain Sykes, here in this
+dory with the handkerchief over his face. He isn't suffering much, but
+his cheeks got scorched, so I'm talking for him. The other man is in the
+next boat. The only thing for 'em to do is to grin and bear it; but just
+now they're not grinning much, 'specially the captain."
+
+Silence again. The sullen, red blaze on the distant vessel was dying
+down against the horizon. The flames had stripped her to a skeleton. Her
+hempen running rigging had been consumed; sails, gaffs, and booms lay
+smoldering on her decks; above the hull only her masts and bowsprit were
+outlined in fire against the blackness behind.
+
+Lacking anything better to do, Jim began counting the men in the dories.
+He made thirteen in each. Most of them sat like graven images, neither
+speaking nor stirring. They had not even turned their heads to look at
+the perishing schooner. He could not understand such indifference to the
+fate of the craft that had been their home.
+
+Sprowl's Cove was right ahead. Filippo opened the cabin door and stood
+framed within it, the light behind him casting a cheery glow down the
+beach. Louder and louder the bank behind the lagoon flung back the
+staccato of the exhaust. Presently the sloop nosed into the haven, the
+engine stopped, and Throppy went forward to gaff the mooring.
+
+The dories were cast off and rowed to the beach. By the time the boys
+got ashore all the men had landed. Jim, who had been watching them
+quietly, noted that most of them disembarked clumsily, more like
+landlubbers than sailors. They separated into two groups of very unequal
+size. One, numbering six, including the men with handkerchiefs over
+their burnt faces, withdrew from the others and began to talk in low
+tones, with earnest, excited gestures. The remaining twenty clotted
+loosely together, awkward and ill at ease, still preserving their
+mysterious silence.
+
+Before Jim had time to offer his unexpected guests anything to eat or
+drink, Filippo bustled hospitably down the beach to the larger group.
+
+"Will you have _caffe_? It is hot and _eccellente_."
+
+They stared at him without replying. By the light from the open door Jim
+could see that they were dressed like landsmen and that their clothes
+did not fit well. Their faces were darkish, they had flat noses, and
+their close-cropped hair was straight and black.
+
+Before Filippo could repeat his question a man from the smaller group
+hurried up and pushed himself abruptly between the silent score and
+their questioner.
+
+"No!" said he, brusquely. "We don't want anything. We had supper just
+before the fire."
+
+His tone and attitude forbade further questioning. Filippo, abashed by
+the rebuff, returned rather shamefacedly to the cabin. The speaker
+remained with the group, as if to protect them from further approaches.
+To Jim his attitude seemed to be almost that of a guard. It deepened the
+mystery that already hung about the party.
+
+It was now past eight o'clock, and naturally some provision would soon
+have to be made for passing the night. Jim pondered. Twenty-six guests
+would prove a severe tax on their already cramped accommodations.
+Still, the thing could be arranged; it must be. The smaller group of six
+could be taken into the camp. Six of the silent twenty could be stowed
+away aboard the sloop; while the remaining fourteen must make what shift
+they could in the fish-house. Jim proposed this plan to the sentinel.
+
+The man disapproved flatly.
+
+"No!" was his decided reply. "We've got to get away to-night."
+
+"To-night?" echoed Jim in amazement. "Why, man alive, you can't do that!
+It's fifteen miles to Matinicus, and you're loaded so deep it'd take you
+almost until morning to row there. And even if you made it all right,
+you wouldn't gain anything, for the boat for Rockland doesn't leave
+until the first of the afternoon. Besides, this wind's liable to blow up
+a storm. Of course you could row ten miles north to Head Harbor on Isle
+au Haut, walk up the island, and catch the morning boat for Stonington;
+but you'd have to pull most of the way against the ebb, and when this
+wind gets a little stronger it's going to be pretty choppy. _I_ wouldn't
+want to risk it. Better stop with us to-night and let us make you as
+comfortable as we can; and to-morrow you can start for any place you
+please."
+
+The man shook his head stubbornly.
+
+"How far is it to the mainland?" he asked.
+
+Jim could hardly believe his ears.
+
+"The mainland!" he exclaimed. "A good twenty-five miles."
+
+"Well, we've got to be there before morning."
+
+"You're crazy, man! Twenty-five miles across these waters in the night,
+with thirteen men in each dory! You'd never make it in the world. You
+can't do it."
+
+"Well, maybe we can't," retorted the other, impatiently, "but we're
+going to. There's more ways to kill a cat than by choking her to death
+with cream."
+
+He walked back to the smaller group, and soon they were in heated, but
+indistinct, argument. Jim noted that the men with handkerchiefs over
+their faces seemed now to have no difficulty in bearing their share of
+the conversation. Captain Sykes, in especial, was almost violent in his
+gestures.
+
+Presently they seemed to have reached an agreement. The spokesman walked
+back to Jim and came directly to the point.
+
+"What'll you take to set the crowd of us over on the mainland near Owl's
+Head before daylight?"
+
+Jim was equally direct.
+
+"No number of dollars you can name. I don't care to risk my boat and
+twenty-five or thirty lives knocking round the Penobscot Bay ledges on a
+night like this. But I'll be glad to take you all over to Matinicus
+to-morrow for nothing."
+
+"That won't do. We've got to reach the mainland to-night. I'll give you
+fifty dollars. Come, now!"
+
+Jim shook his head.
+
+"Seventy-five! No? A hundred, then! What d'you say?"
+
+"No use!" replied Jim. "I told you so at first."
+
+The stranger eyed him a moment, then stepped aside to parley again with
+the others. The colloquy was even more spirited than before. Captain
+Sykes swung his arms like a crazy man. He pointed to the sky, then to
+the sea, then to the voiceless score, huddled together, sheep-like, on
+the beach. Back came the speaker again, a nervous decision in his
+manner.
+
+"If you won't set us over yourself, what'll you sell that sloop for?
+Give you two hundred dollars!"
+
+Reading refusal in the lad's face, he raised the bid before Jim had time
+to open his lips.
+
+"Three hundred! We've some passengers who must get to a certain place at
+a particular time, and they can't do it unless we can land 'em before
+daylight to-morrow. Say four hundred!"
+
+"That sloop isn't for sale."
+
+"Wouldn't you take five hundred for her?"
+
+"No; nor a thousand!"
+
+Jim's jaws came together. Back in his brain was forming a suspicion of
+these fishermen who raised their bid so glibly. Why were they so eager
+to reach the mainland that night, and why did the twenty have no voice
+in the discussion? He scrutinized them searchingly.
+
+"What are you staring at?" demanded the man, angrily.
+
+Jim did not reply. Percy passed by on his way to the cabin. He had been
+using his eyes to good advantage. He nudged Jim.
+
+"Those fellows are Chinamen," he whispered. "I've seen too many of 'em
+to be mistaken."
+
+His words crystallized Jim's suspicions into certainty. The whole thing
+was plain now. The crew of the _Clementine Briggs_ (if, indeed, that was
+her name) were no fishermen, but smugglers of Chinese!
+
+He remembered a recent magazine article on the breaking of the
+immigration laws. Chinamen would cross the Pacific to Vancouver, paying
+the Dominion head-tax, and thus gaining admission into Canada. A
+society, organized for the purpose, would take them in charge, teach
+them a few ordinary English phrases, transport them to New Brunswick,
+and slip them aboard some fast schooner. The captain of this vessel
+would receive three hundred dollars a head for landing his passengers
+safely here and there at lonely points on the New England coast, whence
+they could make their way undetected to their friends in the large
+cities. Thus were the exclusion laws of the United States set at naught.
+
+The destruction of the schooner had made it necessary for her passengers
+to be landed somewhere as secretly and as quickly as possible. Twenty
+men at three hundred dollars a head meant six thousand dollars. That
+explained the anxiety of the six white men to reach the mainland that
+night. They were criminals, breaking their country's laws for money.
+
+Jim decided that they should never make use of the _Barracouta_.
+
+The spokesman dropped his conciliatory mask and turned away defiantly.
+
+"All right, young fellow! You've had your say; now we'll have ours."
+
+"Throppy," said Jim in a low tone to Stevens, who was standing with Lane
+beside him, "these men are smugglers. Call the cutter!"
+
+He had time for nothing more. As Stevens slipped quietly back into the
+cabin there was an angry outburst among the group on the beach.
+
+"I've done my best, Cap," protested a voice. "He won't listen to reason.
+Now take that rag off your face and handle this thing yourself. It's up
+to you."
+
+There was a sudden rush of enraged men toward Lane and Spurling. As they
+came, two wrenched the handkerchiefs from their faces, revealing to the
+astounded boys the features of the would-be sheep-thieves of the first
+of the summer, Dolph and Captain Bart Brittler!
+
+The latter was white with rage. His voice rose almost to a screech.
+
+"No more fooling! We need that sloop and we're going to have her! Will
+you sell her?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then we'll take her!"
+
+Brittler's hand shot into his pocket as if for a revolver.
+
+"Stop there, Cap!" warned Dolph's voice. "No gun-play! 'Tisn't
+necessary. We can handle 'em."
+
+He flung himself suddenly on Spurling; another man leaped upon Lane.
+Though taken completely by surprise and almost hurled backward, Jim
+quickly recovered his balance. A sledge-hammer blow from Dolph's fist
+grazed his jaw as he sprang aside. He returned it with interest, his
+right going true to its mark; down went Dolph, as if hit by a
+pile-driver. He lay for a moment, stunned.
+
+Strong and active though Jim was, he could not bear the brunt of the
+entire battle. Lane's assailant had proved too much for him; they were
+struggling together on the gravel, the older man on top. Percy and
+Filippo came running; but their aid counted for little. A stocky
+smuggler turned toward them. A single blow from his fist sent the
+Italian reeling. Percy lasted longer; but his skill was no match for the
+brute strength of his foe. His lighter blows only stung his
+antagonist to fiercer efforts. Little by little the boy's strength
+failed and his breath came harder. He slipped on a smooth stone; with a
+sudden rush his foe pinioned his arms and held him struggling.
+
+[Illustration: "WE NEED THAT SLOOP AND WE'RE GOING TO HAVE HER!"]
+
+Dolph recovered, staggered to his feet, and entered the fray again. It
+was four to one against Jim; he fought manfully, but it was no use.
+Presently he lay flat on his back on the gravel, bruised and panting,
+one man kneeling on each arm, and a third on his chest.
+
+"Take him up to the camp, boys!" puffed Brittler.
+
+The doughty captain had not escaped unscathed. A swollen black eye and a
+bleeding nose bore eloquent testimony to the force and accuracy of Jim's
+blows. A guard on each side and another behind were soon propelling
+Spurling toward the open door. From within came the ceaseless click of a
+telegraph instrument. Throppy was still calling the cutter. Jim heard
+the quick patter of the continental code; Brittler heard it, too, and
+understood. He sprang forward with a shout of alarm.
+
+"They've got a wireless! Smash it!"
+
+A buffet on the side of the head knocked Stevens off his soap-box and
+sent him rolling on the floor. Five seconds later a crashing blow from a
+stick of firewood put the instrument out of commission. Brittler poised
+his club threateningly over the prostrate Stevens.
+
+"Wish I knew if you've been able to get a message through to anybody! If
+I thought you had--"
+
+He did not finish, but half-raised the stick, then dropped it again and
+turned away. One by one the remaining members of Spurling & Company
+were bundled unceremoniously into the cabin. Then the door was slammed
+shut and two men with automatics were stationed on guard outside.
+
+"Don't shoot unless you have to," instructed Brittler's voice, purposely
+raised. "And remember a bullet in the leg'll stop a man just as quick as
+one through the body."
+
+And then in a tone lower, but perfectly audible to those inside:
+
+"But don't stand any fooling! Stop 'em anyway! You know as well as I do
+how much we've got at stake."
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+PERCY SCORES
+
+
+Defeated and imprisoned in their own camp, the boys faced one another
+dazedly. Though none of the five had suffered serious injury in the
+scuffle, all were more or less bruised. Lane had a slight cut where the
+back of his head had come in contact with a sharp stone on the beach;
+and a swelling on Jim's right cheek told where the hard fist of one of
+his assailants had landed.
+
+Outside, the two guards conversed in low tones; but for a few minutes no
+one spoke or moved in the cabin. The boys sat on the boxes or had thrown
+themselves into their bunks. Elbow on table, chin resting in palm, Jim
+was buried in thought. In a short time, he knew, Brittler and his gang
+would sail away in the _Barracouta_. They would land their human cargo
+and probably scuttle the sloop. Somehow they must be thwarted; but how?
+
+The boys had no weapons to match those of their armed guard. Without
+ammunition, the shot-gun was but a bar of iron. How could they cope with
+the bullets in the automatics? Undoubtedly every smuggler carried a
+revolver, and would use it in a pinch; possibly some might not wait
+until the pinch came. It was a knotty problem. The drops oozed out on
+Jim's forehead as he wrestled for its solution.
+
+A low whistle fell on his ear. He glanced toward Percy's bunk and saw
+the latter's hand raised in warning; he was taking off his shoes,
+quickly and noiselessly. Why? Jim and the others watched.
+
+Soon Percy stood in his stocking feet. He pulled out his knife and
+opened the large blade. Stooping low, he stole toward the farther end of
+the cabin. The window there was open and covered with mosquito netting.
+
+Steps grated on the pebbles outside. One of the guards was making a
+circuit of the camp. Percy flattened himself on the floor directly
+beneath the window. The others, hardly daring to breathe, looked away.
+The man paused for a moment; Jim knew that he was peering in. Apparently
+satisfied that all was well, he resumed his patrol.
+
+Without delay Percy rose. He drew his knife along the netting near the
+sill, then cut it from top to bottom on each side, close to the frame.
+So skilfully did the keen blade do its work that the screen hung
+apparently undisturbed.
+
+The guards began talking again. Placing one of the boxes silently under
+the window, and stepping upon it, Percy slipped through the opening. His
+light build enabled him to drop to the ground without making any noise.
+The netting fell back and hung as before.
+
+Outside, it was thick fog; a slight drizzle was beginning. It was
+impossible to see further than a few feet. But the last two months had
+familiarized Percy with every square yard of the beach, and he could
+have found his way along it blindfold. Cat-footed, he stole down toward
+the water.
+
+Steps approached, voices; he halted, ready for a hasty retreat. But the
+feet receded toward the cabin, and he had no difficulty in recognizing
+the tones of Dolph and Brittler. The latter was in a bad humor.
+
+"Now," he growled, "we've got a long way to go, and none too much time.
+Every minute we waste here means just so much off the other end. Granted
+we reach the mainland all right, we'll have to hustle to slip those
+Chinks under cover before daylight. You'd better round 'em up in that
+fish-house, so none of 'em'll stray away and keep us from starting the
+second the sloop's ready. We've got to make sure there's plenty of gas
+aboard, as well as a compass and chart. I'll see if I can scare up a
+couple of lanterns."
+
+The two separated, Dolph evidently going to look after the Chinese,
+while Brittler kept on toward the cabin. Percy stood stock-still, his
+heart thumping. Would the captain discover his absence?
+
+"How's everything here, boys?" hailed Brittler.
+
+"All quiet," replied one of the sentries.
+
+"Come inside with me, Herb, so these fellows won't try any funny
+business."
+
+The door opened. Percy felt a thrill of fear. How could they fail to
+notice there were only four prisoners in the camp?
+
+But their captors evidently had not the least suspicion that he had
+escaped. Probably they thought he was lying in one of the bunks. He
+could hear the voices of Brittler and Jim, the one questioning, angry,
+and menacing, the other tantalizingly deliberate as he grudgingly gave
+the information demanded. Percy delayed no longer. He had his own work
+to do, and it demanded all his energy.
+
+Down he stole to the water's edge, then followed it west until he
+reached a sloping rock. The _Barracouta_, he knew, was moored not fifty
+feet out in the black fog.
+
+Without hesitating a second Percy waded in, and soon was swimming
+quietly toward the sloop. He had not dared to take one of the boats, for
+fear the grating of her keel on the beach or the sound of her oars might
+betray him. He cleft the water noiselessly, and it was not long before
+he grasped the _Barracouta's_ bobstay and hoisted himself aboard.
+
+Dropping down the companionway, he groped forward through the cabin to
+the little door leading into the bow, and crept in on hands and knees.
+His fingers found what he wanted, an opening between two planks, where a
+leak had been freshly calked with oakum. He dug this out with his
+knife-point, and the water began spurting in.
+
+Backing out and closing the door, he found a wrench in the tool-box and
+began fumbling about the engine. Soon the spark-plugs were unscrewed and
+in his pocket.
+
+"And there's a good job done!" he thought, triumphantly. "Guess that
+gang of blacklegs won't get very far in the _Barracouta_ to-night!"
+
+Voices on the shore. Dolph and Brittler were coming with a lantern; a
+blur of light brightened through the fog.
+
+"The compass and chart are aboard," came the captain's voice, "and this
+can of gas'll be enough to make us sure of striking the mainland.
+Launch that dory!"
+
+The dip of oars and an increasing brightness told that the boat was
+approaching. It would not do for Percy to be detected. Lowering himself
+from the port bow into the water, he clung to the bobstay.
+
+"They won't see me here!"
+
+Bump! The dory struck the sloop and grated along her side. Dolph and
+Brittler clambered aboard and descended into the cabin.
+
+"Here's the chart!" exclaimed the captain. "And the compass, too! He
+told the truth about them, at any rate."
+
+"Lucky for him!" rejoined Dolph. "I don't like that big fellow worth a
+cent."
+
+"Good reason!" was the captain's rather sarcastic comment.
+
+"You haven't any license to joke me about that knockdown, Bart Brittler!
+I noticed you weren't in any hurry to mix it with him."
+
+There was a moment of silence.
+
+"What's that?" cried the captain, suddenly. "Sounds like water running
+in! Hope the old scow isn't leaking. Let's have that lantern!"
+
+Through the thin planking Percy could hear him open the little door and
+crawl up into the bow. Then his faint, muffled voice reached the eagerly
+listening boy.
+
+"There's a bad leak here! Come in a minute!"
+
+Into Percy's brain flashed a sudden idea that left him trembling with
+excitement. Could he do it? If he tried, he must not fail. An instant
+resolution set him dragging himself toward the stern.
+
+Clutching the rim of the wash-board, he flung up one leg, caught his
+toe, and raised himself, dripping. A moment later he was in the
+standing-room.
+
+He looked down into the cabin. The light of the lantern, shining round a
+body that almost filled the little door to the bow, showed a pair of
+legs backing out.
+
+The die was cast. It was too late now for Percy to withdraw. His only
+safety lay in action.
+
+Like lightning he slammed and hooked the double doors of the
+companionway, pulled the slide over, and snapped the padlock. Dolph and
+Brittler were prisoners on board the _Barracouta!_
+
+There was a moment of surprised silence. Then bedlam broke out below, a
+confused, smothered shouting, a violent thumping on the closed doors and
+slide. But Percy gave it no heed. Thus far his plan had succeeded, even
+beyond his expectations. But his work was only begun. Before it should
+be finished, four men on shore must be overcome.
+
+Aquiver with excitement, he sprang into the dory and quickly rowed to
+the beach, some distance from the camp. Then he leaped out with the oars
+and carried them well up on the shingle.
+
+The other dory of the smugglers was, he remembered, almost exactly in
+front of the cabin. Skirting the water, he soon came plump upon the
+boat. He felt inside, found the oars, and gave one after the other a
+shove out into the cove. Barely had he done this when hurrying steps
+approached. One of the guards from the camp was coming to investigate
+the tumult on the _Barracouta_.
+
+He passed so close to the dory beside which Percy was crouching that
+the boy could almost have touched him. Luckily he had no lantern. Percy
+hardly dared to breathe until the man was twenty feet past.
+
+"What's the trouble out there?" he shouted.
+
+If the two on the sloop heard him at all, they made no intelligible
+reply. The tumult and thumping kept on. Not waiting to see whether or
+not the sentinel would succeed in establishing communication with his
+marooned companions, Percy ran silently up the beach. Making a broad
+circuit, he approached the cabin from behind.
+
+Through the open window he could see his mates, listening with parted
+lips to the hubbub outside. He attracted Jim's attention by tossing in a
+pebble. Spurling sauntered leisurely toward the rear of the cabin. His
+precautions were needless; the remaining sentry had concentrated his
+whole attention on the uproar in the cove.
+
+"Jim," whispered Percy, hurriedly, "I'm going to jump that guard. You
+and Budge stand close to the door. The second you hear any fracas rush
+out and take hold with me. Stop him from shouting, if you can."
+
+Jim nodded and stepped back from the window. Percy crept stealthily
+round the camp toward the fish-house. He rightly inferred that the
+smuggler would be gazing down the beach toward the invisible sloop.
+
+A well-oiled clock could not have worked more smoothly. The sentry's
+thoughts were focused on what was taking place out there in the fog, and
+he was all unconscious of the peril that menaced him in the rear.
+
+Suddenly out of the blackness behind him a lithe figure shot like a
+wildcat. One arm encircled the neck of the astounded guard, the hand
+pressing tightly over his mouth. The other hand caught his right wrist
+and twisted it backward, causing him to drop his revolver. The force of
+the attack flung him flat on his face.
+
+Before he could even struggle the door was wrenched open and two figures
+darted out and joined in the melee. It was soon over. Three to one are
+heavy odds. The sentry, gagged and securely bound, was hustled inside
+the cabin. His hat, overcoat, and automatic were appropriated for Jim
+Spurling, who took his place. So skilfully had the coup been conducted
+under cover of the disturbance in the cove that none of the other
+smugglers had taken the slightest alarm.
+
+Spurling assumed his post none too soon. Hardly had the door been
+closed, with Lane, Stevens, and Percy on the alert just inside, when the
+other guard came hurrying anxiously back. He had been unable to fathom
+the meaning of the tumult on the _Barracouta_.
+
+"I don't like this at all, Herb," growled he as he drew near Jim. "Dolph
+and the skipper have gotten into some kind of a scrape, but what the
+trouble is I can't figure. I'd have gone out to them in the other dory,
+but I couldn't find any oars. We'd better call Shane and Parsons away
+from guarding those Chinks and decide what it's best to do. We don't
+know the lay of the land here, and any mistake's liable to be
+expensive."
+
+By the time he had finished his remarks he was close to Spurling. The
+latter's silence apparently roused his suspicions. He stopped short.
+
+"What--"
+
+He got no further. Jim's left hand was over his mouth and Jim's right
+grasped his right wrist. Out burst reinforcements from the camp. It was
+a repetition of the case of the first sentinel, only more so. Presently
+Number Two lay on the cabin floor beside his comrade, unable to speak or
+move. Jim was a good hand at tying knots.
+
+The five boys gathered in a corner and took account of stock. Two of the
+six white men prisoners; two others marooned on the sloop and _hors du
+combat_, at least temporarily; two still at large and in a condition to
+do mischief, but at present entirely ignorant of the plight of their
+comrades. Two automatics captured, and the dories of the foe useless
+from lack of oars. Best of all, the boys themselves free and practically
+masters of the situation. Matters showed a decided improvement over what
+they had been a half-hour before.
+
+But the victory was as yet incomplete and Jim was too good a general to
+lose the battle from over-confidence. At any minute Dolph and Brittler
+might burst their way out through the double doors of the _Barracouta_
+and establish communication with the two men guarding the Chinese. So
+once more the trap was set and baited. Roger put on the hat and coat of
+the second sentry and joined Jim on guard.
+
+Crash! Crash! Crash! A succession of heavy, splintering blows, echoing
+over the cove, announced that the pair imprisoned on the sloop had at
+last discovered some means of battering their way to freedom.
+
+_Crash-sh!_
+
+Speech, low but intense, came floating over the water. The smugglers
+were out and evidently looking for their dory. Baffled in their search,
+they began shouting.
+
+"Hilloo-oo! On shore! Shane! Parsons! Herb! Terry! Are you all dead?
+Come out and take us off! Somebody's scuttled the sloop and locked us
+down in the cabin! Just wait till we get ashore! We'll fix those boys!
+Ahoy there! Our boat's gone! Come and get us!"
+
+Jim pressed Roger's arm.
+
+"Ready! Here comes one of 'em!"
+
+Somebody was running toward them from the fish-house. A black figure
+suddenly loomed up, close at hand.
+
+"What's the trouble out there, Herb? Dolph and the cap are yelling like
+stuck pigs! Hear 'em! Guess I'd better go out to 'em in the other dory,
+don't you think? Shane can handle the Chinos--"
+
+His voice shut off in a terrified gurgle. A strong hand forcibly sealed
+his lips and two pairs of muscular arms held him powerless, while Percy,
+darting from the cabin with a coil of rope, relieved him of his
+automatic and tied him firmly under Jim's whispered directions. Soon he,
+too, lay beside his comrades.
+
+"Shut the door a minute, Filippo!" ordered Jim. "Now," he continued,
+briskly, "I guess we've got 'em coppered. We'll do up that man in the
+fish-house in short order. By the way, Throppy, did you raise the
+cutter before the captain smashed your instrument?"
+
+"Don't know," answered Stevens. "I was so busy calling for help that I
+didn't wait for any reply."
+
+"We'll know before midnight," said Jim. "Take Parsons's automatic,
+Perce, and come along with Budge and myself. Throppy, you stay here with
+Filippo and help guard these fellows."
+
+He glanced at the sullen three lying bound on the floor.
+
+"Don't look as if they could make much trouble. Still, it's better for
+somebody to keep an eye on 'em."
+
+Jim, Budge, and Percy stepped out and closed the door. The shouting from
+the _Barracouta_ kept on with undiminished vigor. Appeals and threats
+jostled one another in the verbal torrent.
+
+"Let 'em yell themselves hoarse," whispered Jim. "It won't do 'em any
+good."
+
+The fish-house was near. A lighted lantern hung just inside the open
+door. Near it stood the fourth smuggler, peering anxiously out; behind
+him huddled the Chinamen. He gave an exclamation of relief as he saw
+Jim's figure approaching through the fog.
+
+"I'm glad--"
+
+He stopped short, frozen with surprise, at the sight of the three boys.
+Swiftly his hand darted toward his left coat pocket.
+
+"None of that, Shane!" commanded Jim, sharply. "Put 'em up!"
+
+The three automatics in the boys' hands showed the guard that
+resistance was useless. He obeyed sulkily.
+
+"Feel in his pocket, Perce, and take his revolver! No, the other side!
+He's left-handed."
+
+Percy secured the weapon. Escorting Shane to the camp, they soon had him
+safely trussed. Brittler was bellowing like a mad bull.
+
+"Now for Dolph and the skipper! Guess the three of us are good for 'em!"
+
+Leaving the four smugglers in the custody of Throppy and Filippo, the
+other boys proceeded down to the water. The shouting suddenly ceased. A
+rope splashed.
+
+"They've cast off the mooring!" exclaimed Jim.
+
+Another unmistakable sound.
+
+"Now they're rocking the wheel to start her!"
+
+Percy felt for the spark-plugs in his pocket.
+
+"They'll rock it some time!"
+
+They did. At last they stopped. There was a muttered consultation,
+inaudible to the listening ears on shore.
+
+"Might as well wind the thing up now!" observed Jim in an undertone.
+
+"On board the sloop!" he hailed. "It's all off, Captain! We've got your
+four men tied up, and we've got their revolvers. You and Dolph might as
+well give it up. Throw your guns in on the beach, and we'll come out and
+get you, one at a time!"
+
+A tremendous surprise was voiced by the absolute silence that followed.
+It was broken by Brittler's sneering voice:
+
+"So we might as well give up, had we, eh? Guess you don't know Bart
+Brittler, sonny! Let 'em have it, Dolph!"
+
+_Spang--spang--spang--spang!_
+
+A fusillade of revolver-shots woke the echoes. The bullets spattered in
+the water and thudded on the beach. Fortunately no one was hit.
+
+"Scatter, fellows!" shouted Jim. And in a lower voice he added, "Don't
+fire back!"
+
+Silence again. The two on the sloop were evidently reloading. Then came
+a regular splashing. The men on the _Barracouta_ were paddling her
+ashore. Armed and desperate, now fully aware that the only things
+between themselves and a term in a Federal prison were the bullets in
+their automatics, they would go to almost any length to escape, even to
+the taking of life itself. Plainly there was trouble ahead.
+
+The boys came together again at the foot of the sea-wall. Should they
+fight or run? It was one or the other. Whatever else they might be,
+Dolph and Brittler clearly were not cowards. If there was a fight, it
+was certain somebody would be shot, very likely killed. Was the risk
+worth taking? Would it not be better to hurry back to the cabin, warn
+Filippo and Throppy, and escape up the bank into the woods? The
+smugglers, with but two automatics against four, would hardly dare to
+follow them.
+
+"Way enough, Dolph!" growled Brittler's voice.
+
+The sloop had grounded. Splash! Splash! Her two passengers had leaped
+out into the water and were making their way to the beach.
+
+Jim came to an instant decision. He opened his lips, but the words he
+had planned to speak were never uttered. The strong, rhythmical dip of
+oars suddenly beat through the fog.
+
+"What's the trouble here?" demanded a stern voice.
+
+A great surge of thankfulness almost took away Jim's power of speech.
+
+"It's the cutter!" he ejaculated, chokingly. "Throppy got her, after
+all!"
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+WHITTINGTON GRIT
+
+
+So far as the smugglers were concerned the game was up. It was one thing
+to attempt to overpower a group of boys and appropriate their sloop, but
+it was quite another to offer armed resistance to the officers of the
+United States revenue service.
+
+Dolph and Brittler realized that; they realized, too, that they had
+absolutely no chance of escaping from the island, so they stood sullenly
+by while Jim told his story to the lieutenant commanding the boat. At
+the close of his recital the officer turned to them.
+
+"You hear the statements of this young man. What have you to say for
+yourselves?"
+
+"Nothing now," replied Brittler.
+
+"You may hand over your guns."
+
+The two surrendered their automatics and were placed under arrest.
+Following Jim's guidance, the lieutenant inspected the captured
+smugglers in Camp Spurling and the Chinese in the fish-house. Leaving a
+guard on shore and taking Jim with him, he went off to make his report
+to the captain.
+
+"It's a case for the United States commissioner at Portland," decided
+the latter. "We'll have to take the whole party there. Guess you boys
+had better come along as witnesses. The _Pollux_ was bound east when we
+picked up your wireless; but this matter is so important that I'm going
+to postpone that trip for a couple of days. I can bring you and the rest
+of your party back here early day after to-morrow."
+
+It meant to the boys a loss of only two days at the outside. That was a
+little thing in comparison with what might have happened if the cutter
+had not come.
+
+"We'll start without waste of time," resumed the captain. "Lieutenant
+Stevenson, you may bring the prisoners aboard."
+
+Jim went ashore with the officer to notify his companions and prepare
+for this unforeseen journey. Eleven o'clock found the _Pollux_ steaming
+west with her thirty-one additional passengers. The passage was
+uneventful and they were alongside the wharf in Portland early the next
+forenoon.
+
+Promptly at two came the hearing before the commissioner. It did not
+take long. Brittler and his accomplices were held for trial at the next
+term of court, and the Chinese were taken in charge by the immigration
+inspector. Before six that night the boys were passing out by Portland
+Head in the _Pollux_, bound east. The next morning they landed once more
+in Sprowl's Cove, and a few hours later they had fallen back into their
+customary routine, as if smugglers were a thing unknown. The leak in the
+_Barracouta's_ bow was calked, making her as tight as before.
+
+The following day dawned fiery red and it was evident that a fall storm
+was brewing. Jim and Percy had to battle with a high sea when they set
+and pulled their trawl; and they were glad enough to get back to
+Tarpaulin with their catch. By noon a heavy surf was bombarding the
+southern shore.
+
+Five o'clock found the gale in full blast. A terrific wind whipped the
+rain in level sheets over cove and beach and against the low cabin squat
+on the sea-wall. Great, white-maned surges came rolling in from the
+ocean to boom thunderously on the ledges round Brimstone. The flying
+scud made it impossible to see far to windward. It was the worst storm
+the boys had experienced since they came to the island.
+
+At half past five, after everything had been made snug for the night,
+they assembled for supper. On the table smoked a heaping platter of
+fresh tongues and cheeks, rolled in meal and fried brown with slices of
+salt pork. Another spiderful of the same viands sputtered on the stove.
+Hot biscuits and canned peaches crowned the repast. Filippo had done
+himself proud.
+
+A long-drawn blast howled about the cabin.
+
+"Gee!" exclaimed Percy, "but wasn't that a screamer! This is one of the
+nights you read about. 'The midnight tempest was shrieking furiously
+round the battlements of the old baronial castle!'"
+
+"Cut it out, Perce, cut it out!" remonstrated Lane. "You make me feel
+ashamed of myself. It's really unkind in you to air your knowledge of
+the English classics before such dubs as the rest of us."
+
+"Well, at any rate, I'm glad we're under cover. Wonder if the men who
+used to go to sea in this cabin enjoyed it anywhere near as much as we
+have!"
+
+"Not half bad, is it?" said Jim. "Remember how delighted you were when
+you got your first sight of it, three months ago?"
+
+Percy grinned.
+
+"I've changed some since then," he admitted. "Forget that, Jim! It's
+ancient history now."
+
+As he drew up his soap-box his eye dwelt appreciatively on the
+delicacies in the platter.
+
+"Aren't you other fellows going to eat anything?" he inquired, with mock
+concern. "I don't see any more than enough for myself on that platter.
+Don't be so narrow about the food, Filippo!"
+
+The Italian pointed to a pan rounded up with uncooked titbits.
+
+"Plenty more!"
+
+"Good!" said Percy. "I was afraid somebody else might have to go
+hungry."
+
+All devoted themselves to the contents of their plates. They kept
+Filippo busy frying until their appetites were satisfied.
+
+Supper was over at last, and the dishes washed and put away. Outside,
+the storm raged worse than ever. Stevens sat down to his instrument,
+repaired after its damage by Brittler, and put the receivers over his
+ears.
+
+"Come on, Throppy!" exhorted Lane. "Don't go calling to-night! Get out
+of the ether and give some other wireless sharps a look-in! Pull off
+that harness and take down your violin. Let's make an evening of it! We
+sha'n't have many more."
+
+Stevens lifted his hands to remove the headpiece. Suddenly a change came
+over his face and his arms dropped slowly. He gave his mates a warning
+look. There fell a silence in the cabin. Anxiously the others watched
+the operator's tense features. Minutes passed.
+
+On a sudden he sprang up and tore off the receivers.
+
+"There's a steamer in trouble outside. Name sounded like _Barona_. Her
+engine's disabled and she's drifting. Can't be very far off!"
+
+The boys felt sober.
+
+"It's a hard night for a craft without steerage-way," said Jim. "What's
+that? Thunder?"
+
+A long, low rumble made itself heard above the storm. It came again, and
+yet again. The gloom was lighted for a second by a sudden blaze.
+
+"What's that!" exclaimed Jim once more.
+
+Between the thunder-peals his ears had caught a single whip-like crack.
+A stunning crash followed a lurid glare, lighting up sky and sea. Again
+came the sharp detonation, but little louder than a fire-cracker. This
+time all heard it.
+
+"A signal-gun!"
+
+Lane's voice was full of excitement. He sprang to the door and the
+others followed. The gale was blowing squarely against the end of the
+cabin. So great was its force that Roger had all he could do to push the
+door open. Presently the five stood outside, exposed to the full fury of
+the blast. For a few seconds all was black.
+
+"Look! A rocket!"
+
+Up from the pitchy sea southwest of Brimstone shot a line of fire,
+curving into an arc and bursting aloft in a shower of many-colored
+balls. At its base were dimly visible two slender masts and a white
+hull. Almost instantly they vanished; but the boys had seen enough.
+
+"A steam-yacht!" cried Jim. "Not more than a half-mile off Brimstone and
+drifting straight on the ledges. Looks as if she was a goner!"
+
+"Can't we help her somehow?" asked Percy.
+
+"I'm afraid not. We couldn't drive the sloop against this gale and sea;
+besides, those rollers would swamp a life-boat. All we can do is to get
+out on the point and try to save anybody who comes ashore. Put on your
+oil-clothes, fellows! Light both the lanterns, Percy! Budge, you and
+Throppy each take one of those spare coils of rope! I'll carry another
+and the Coston lights. Now I can see why Uncle Tom always insisted on
+having a couple of 'em in the cabin. Filippo, you'd better stay here,
+keep up a good fire, and make plenty of coffee. There goes another
+rocket! The gun, too! I don't blame 'em. Men couldn't be in a worse
+fix!"
+
+Leaning sidewise against the gale, the little lantern-guided procession
+trudged along the sea-wall and stumblingly ascended the slippery path to
+the beacon on Brimstone. Sheltering the oil-soaked kindlings with his
+body, Jim scratched a match; and in a twinkling long tongues of smoky
+flame were streaming wildly to leeward.
+
+"Ah! They see us!"
+
+Three rockets in quick succession rose from the yacht, now barely a
+quarter-mile away. The thunder and lightning were almost continuous.
+Every flash told that the imperiled craft was steadily drifting nearer
+the dangerous promontory.
+
+"She'll strike the Grumblers!" muttered Jim. "And that means she's done
+for! If only she was a thousand feet farther east she'd float by into
+the cove. Hard luck!"
+
+The Grumblers were a collection of jagged rocks, exposed at low tide.
+Under the incessant flashes their black heads appeared and disappeared
+in a welter of frothy white. It was an ominous spectacle for the men on
+the yacht.
+
+Taking one of the Coston lights, Jim clambered down on the ledges. Soon
+the warning red glare of the torch, held high above his head, was
+illumining the rocks and breakers. He held the light aloft until it went
+out, then rejoined the others.
+
+"They're getting a boat over!" cried Stevens.
+
+Half a dozen men, working with frantic haste, were swinging a tender out
+to leeward.
+
+"No use!" said Jim, despondently. "She won't live a minute in this sea."
+
+Ten seconds confirmed his prediction. The yacht rolled. As the boat
+struck the water a giant sea filled her. Then came darkness. The next
+flash showed the boat drifting bottom up beside the larger craft.
+Another tender was launched; it survived one sea, but the next
+overturned it. Still a third boat met with the same fate.
+
+Every surge was heaving the yacht nearer the breakers with dismaying
+speed. A group of figures gathered amidships. Silently, with pale faces,
+the boys watched the progress of the doomed craft. She was going to her
+death. How could any of those on board escape?
+
+Jim threw off his despondency.
+
+"Now, fellows," he cried, "the minute she strikes she'll begin to pound
+to pieces! Their only chance'll be to run a line ashore. We must get out
+as far as we can to catch it."
+
+Every billow buried the base of the point in snowy foam and sent the
+spray flying far up its rugged front. Using the utmost caution, the boys
+descended to the limit of safety. At the next flash they peered eagerly
+seaward.
+
+The yacht was almost on the Grumblers! Up she heaved on a high surge,
+dropped. They caught their breaths. No! Not that time. She rose again.
+
+Down ... down ...
+
+Suddenly she stopped. A grinding crash reached their ears.
+
+"She's struck!" screamed Lane.
+
+A blaze of sheet lightning showed her, careened landward, lying
+broadside toward them about one hundred feet distant. It was the
+beginning of the end. Jim, clinging to a boulder far out on the
+streaming ledges, now showered with spray, now buried waist-deep, was
+watching every movement of the crew.
+
+"They've made a line fast round the foremast!" he shouted back. "They're
+going to send its end ashore on a barrel! Watch out!"
+
+Presently the tossing cask was visible, drifting rapidly landward. For
+the first twenty-five yards its progress was unhindered; then a
+half-tide ledge barred its way. It hung on this in the trough of a sea;
+but the next billow swept it over. Before long it was bumping on the
+rocks almost within Jim's reach.
+
+Watching his chance, he lunged forward and caught it. A crashing surge
+flung him down heavily and rolled him over and over; but he stuck
+stoutly to his prize. When the water ran back he came crawling up on his
+hands and knees, sliding the cask before him.
+
+"Can't stand!" he explained, briefly. "Ankle hurt! Now muckle onto this
+line, everybody, and haul in! They've got a hawser bent on the other
+end."
+
+A glance toward the yacht told that he was right. It also told that the
+peril of her human freight was greater than ever. Each sea, raising her
+slightly, dropped her back with her decks at a sharper angle toward the
+land. The grinding of the rocks through her steel side could be
+distinctly heard.
+
+"All together! In she comes! Now ... heave! Now ... heave! Now ...
+_heave!_"
+
+Their strength doubled by the realization that life hung on their
+efforts, the boys swayed at the line until at last they grasped the end
+of the hawser. To it was attached another smaller rope for pulling in a
+boatswain's chair.
+
+Working rapidly, they made the hawser fast round an upright boulder. The
+lightning flashes were now less frequent, but lanterns on the ship and
+ashore enabled each group to note the other's progress. At last the
+slender cableway was rigged. Jim swung a lantern. Another lantern on the
+yacht answered.
+
+"The smaller line, boys! Pull in! Careful!"
+
+As the boys hauled, a figure dangled away from the vessel's side.
+Shoreward it swayed, now high above the wave-troughs, now dipping
+through a lofty crest. It dragged safely over the inside ledge, while
+the boys held their breaths; and presently they were unlashing a man
+from the boatswain's chair.
+
+"Yes," he said in response to Jim's question, "she's the steam-yacht
+_Barona_. Belongs to Churchill Sadler of New York. One of his
+millionaire friends chartered her for a short trip to the Maine coast.
+Fifteen men aboard. I'm the mate. Came ashore first to see if this rig
+would work all right."
+
+The chair was already half-way back to the vessel.
+
+"They'll send Mr. Whittington next," continued the mate.
+
+Percy started with surprise.
+
+"What's that? Whittington?"
+
+"Yes. John P., the millionaire! He's the man who hired the yacht."
+
+"He's my father!" gasped Percy.
+
+The mate gave an exclamation of astonishment.
+
+"Lucky we got this chair to working or soon you wouldn't have had any
+father!"
+
+The swinging seat had now reached the yacht. Two men lashed into it a
+stout, squarely built figure. The lantern signaled that all was ready
+and the shoreward journey began. Percy was shaking so violently that he
+could hardly pull. The mate reassured him.
+
+"Don't be frightened, young fellow! We'll land him all right!"
+
+He added his strength to that of the others, and John P. Whittington
+came in faster. He reached the ledge, only twenty-five feet from shore.
+Then came disaster!
+
+Something gave way on the yacht, and the hawser suddenly slackened,
+letting the boatswain's chair drag on the ledge. The end of a swinging
+rope caught in a crack. The millionaire stopped short!
+
+"Harder!" shouted the mate, setting the example.
+
+The boys surged on the rope, but to no avail; they could not budge the
+chair. Percy stood motionless with horror.
+
+Up curled a huge wave, high over the struggling figure. A thundering
+deluge hid him from view. It looked bad for John P. Whittington. Two or
+three seas more and it would matter little to him whether he was pulled
+in or not.
+
+Guttering and rumbling, the water flowed back. Down over the ledges
+after it leaped a slim, wiry figure. It was Percy Whittington!
+
+He had thrown off his oil-clothes to give his limbs greater freedom. His
+head was bare and his light hair stood straight up from his forehead.
+Grasping the hawser, he plunged into the sea and dragged himself toward
+the rock to which his father was fastened.
+
+The group on the point stood silent, watching him struggle yard by yard
+through the black water until he gained the ridge. On it lay the figure
+in the boatswain's chair, struggling feebly. Percy planted his feet on
+the slippery rock. But before he could reach his father another liquid
+avalanche buried them both.
+
+It seemed to the anxious watchers as if it would never run back. When it
+did, the older man sagged from the chair, motionless; the lad still
+clung to the hawser. The future of the house of Whittington hung
+trembling in the balance.
+
+The mate gave a groan.
+
+"He can't do it!"
+
+At that very instant Percy roused to activity. Even before the ledge was
+entirely clear he was leaning over his father, knife in hand. It was
+useless to attempt to extricate the rope-end from the crack in which it
+was caught; the only thing to do was to cut it. Percy stooped quickly.
+Already the next sea was curling over his head. He made a savage assault
+upon the rope.
+
+Slash! Slash! Twice his arm rose and fell. The billow was breaking down
+over him when he leaped erect and flung up his hand.
+
+"Pull!" yelled Jim.
+
+Just as the flood boiled over the ledge the chair and its senseless
+burden jerked away. Percy grasped the lashings and was towed along
+behind his father. Dread overcame him as he felt the limpness of the
+older man's body.
+
+Through the eddying tide ... up over the slippery rocks ... and
+presently Jim and the mate were unfastening the bonds that held the
+insensible millionaire in the boatswain's chair. They carried him up
+near the beacon and laid him down on Percy's oil-clothes.
+
+"He's breathing!" said the mate. "He'll come round all right. You'll
+know what to do for him. I'll go back and help get the other men off.
+Their lives mean just as much to their people as his does to you."
+
+Working with Budge and Throppy, he took in the slack of the hawser, and
+soon the chair was dancing back to the yacht. Meanwhile Jim and Percy
+were working over Mr. Whittington, and before long he recovered his
+senses. With a groan he half raised himself.
+
+"Where am I?"
+
+"You're all right, Dad!"
+
+"Percy!"
+
+Both father and son showed a depth of feeling Jim would hardly have
+credited them with possessing.
+
+"You don't need me here any longer," he said. "I'll go down and help
+pull the others ashore. Throw these oil-clothes of mine over your
+father, Percy, and make him comfortable, and as soon as the rest are
+safe we'll carry him to camp."
+
+"What's that?" growled the millionaire. "Carry me? I guess you don't
+know the Whittingtons, young man!"
+
+His jaw set and he rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet.
+
+"Come on, Percy! Where's that camp?"
+
+Walking slowly, the father leaning on his son's shoulder, the two
+disappeared in the darkness. Jim watched them for a few seconds, then
+started down over the ledges. The last half-hour had raised his
+estimation of the Whittington stock considerably above par.
+
+Then for a time, engrossed in life-saving, he forgot everything else. At
+last all the men were landed safely. It was none too soon, for the yacht
+was now almost down on her side; and it was plain she would pound to
+pieces before very long.
+
+Rescuers and rescued sought the cabin, where a good fire and hot coffee
+awaited them. Whittington, senior, clad in dry clothing, lay in Percy's
+bunk. Filippo was bustling to and fro to supply the wants of his
+numerous guests. His eyes fell upon a dark-haired, olive-skinned young
+man in the rear of the shipwrecked group, and the cup he was carrying
+clattered on the floor.
+
+"Frank!" he cried. "_Fratello mio!_"
+
+The brothers flung themselves into each other's arms. The Whittington
+family was not the only happy one in Camp Spurling that night.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+CROSSING THE TAPE
+
+
+There was little sleep on Tarpaulin, either for rescuers or rescued,
+until the small hours of the morning. The cabin was crowded to its
+utmost capacity, as the fish-house was too cold for the drenched,
+wearied men. Filippo kept a hot fire going until long after midnight,
+and served out coffee galore. During his intervals of leisure he and
+Frank conversed in liquid Sicilian.
+
+Outside, the storm roared and the surf boomed on the ledges about
+Brimstone; beyond in the blackness lay the wrecked _Barona_, hammering
+to pieces.
+
+Gradually conversation ceased and the camp grew quiet. The boys and
+their unexpected guests, sandwiched closely together on the floor and in
+the bunks, drifted off into fitful slumber. But John P. Whittington's
+eyes remained wide open.
+
+He was outstretched in Percy's bunk. His clothes hung drying before the
+stove, and he had on an old suit of Jim's, as nothing that Percy wore
+was large enough to fit his father's square, bulky figure. Beside him
+lay his son, sound asleep. John P. marveled at his regular breathing.
+Occasionally he touched the lad with his hand.
+
+All his thoughts centered about Percy. He could not but feel that this
+brown, wiry fellow who had saved his life was a stranger to him. He
+could see with half an eye that a great change had come over the boy
+during the summer; he had grown quieter, stronger, far more manly.
+
+Yes, Percy had stuck. John Whittington had only half believed that he
+could or would; and he had spent a good many valuable hours worrying
+over what he should do with his son if he didn't stick. The result
+showed that all those hours had been thrown away; but somehow the
+millionaire couldn't feel very bad about the waste.
+
+He began to wonder if Percy might not have done better in the past if
+his father had put in a little more time with him personally and spent
+less in mere money-making. He had tried to shift his responsibility off
+on somebody else, had hired others to do what he should have taken pains
+to do himself. That was a big mistake; John P. Whittington could see it
+plainly now. And it had come near being a pretty costly error for him,
+for Percy. Well, those days were over. Percy had turned squarely about
+and was doing better. Whittington, senior, determined to do better, too.
+
+Little by little the gale blew itself out. By daybreak the sky was clear
+and the wind had gone down, but the high rollers still wreaked their
+wrath on the shattered yacht and thundered on the point. A fiery sun
+shot its red rays over the slumberers in the crowded cabin. Filippo
+roused yawningly, built the fire, and busied himself about breakfast.
+
+Soon everybody was astir. The millionaire's clothes were now dry, and
+he dressed with the others. Save for a slight stiffness and a few
+bruises, he was all right.
+
+After breakfast he went up on Brimstone with Percy and the others to
+take a look at the _Barona_. The steel hull lay on its side on the
+foaming reef, a battered, crumpled shape, sadly different from the trim
+yacht that had left New York so short a time before. A miscellaneous lot
+of wreckage was swashing in the surf at the base of the point, and Jim
+and some of the crew were salvaging what they could; but it was not very
+much.
+
+Standing in safety on the promontory in the sunlight of the pleasant
+morning, John P. Whittington gazed long at the wreck.
+
+"Well," he remarked at last to the captain, who stood beside him, "I
+guess I see where I'm out fifty or seventy-five thousand dollars. Might
+as well take my medicine without a whimper. It was all my fault. You
+wanted to run into Portland when the storm was making up, but I thought
+we'd better try for some port nearer the island. I've gotten so into the
+habit of having men do as I want them to that I thought the wind and sea
+would do the same. But I've learned they won't. It's been an expensive
+mistake, and it came altogether too near being more expensive still.
+It's up to me to foot the bills. I'll make it all right with you and the
+crew and Sadler."
+
+The sea was going down rapidly. A council was held. The Rockland boat
+would leave Matinicus at half past one, and, as Jim felt that the
+_Barracouta_ could easily make the run to the island, it was decided to
+send the crew back to New York that very day. The captain and the mate
+arranged to remain on Tarpaulin until a wrecking-tug from Boston should
+arrive.
+
+Mr. Whittington, yielding to the persuasions of Percy and the invitation
+of the other boys, consented to take the first vacation of his life and
+stop with them a week or ten days, when their season on the island would
+close.
+
+While the crew were preparing to embark, Filippo approached Jim with his
+newly found brother.
+
+"I like to go with Frank," he said.
+
+"Sorry to have you leave, Filippo," returned Jim. "But I know just how
+you feel, and I don't blame you a bit."
+
+He called Stevens and Lane aside. Presently the latter went into the
+cabin and reappeared with a roll of bills. Jim handed them to the
+Italian.
+
+"Here's one hundred dollars, Filippo, your share for your summer's work.
+You've earned it fairly. If there's anything more coming to you, after
+we figure up, I'll send it on. What will your address be? We hope to see
+you again some time."
+
+Filippo was overcome. Tears of gratitude filled his eyes as he stammered
+his thanks. It was arranged that letters in the care of the Italian
+consul at Boston would always be forwarded to him.
+
+Jim and Throppy took the departing party over to Matinicus on the
+_Barracouta_, getting them there in ample time for the Rockland steamer.
+The sloop was back at Tarpaulin by four o'clock.
+
+Meanwhile John P. Whittington had started on his vacation. Though his
+time ran into thousands of dollars a week, he felt he could profitably
+spend a little of it in getting acquainted with his boy. One of the
+first things his keen eyes noted was the absence of the cigarettes.
+
+"Knocked off, eh, Percy? For how long?"
+
+"For good, Dad!"
+
+The millionaire suppressed a whistle; something had certainly struck
+Percy.
+
+The next morning, his sturdy figure garbed in oilskins, he started out
+with his son and Jim for Clay Bank. He had to acknowledge that rising at
+midnight was a little early, even for a man accustomed to work as hard
+as he had always done.
+
+Out on the shoal he was a silent but interested spectator while the
+trawl was being pulled and the fish taken aboard. An old swell was
+running, and he speedily discovered that seasickness was another thing
+his will could not master. That afternoon he watched Percy skilfully
+handle the splitting-knife and later do his part in baiting the trawl.
+
+On the morning following he went out lobstering, and found as much to
+interest him as on the day before. Everything was new to him. He
+discovered that even a man experienced in big business can learn some
+things from boys. Soon his sleep at night was as sound as his son's.
+
+He made a trip to Matinicus in the _Barracouta_, and talked prices with
+the superintendent of the fish-wharf and the proprietor of the general
+store.
+
+"Have a bottle of lemon, Dad?" invited Percy.
+
+Mr. Whittington was on the point of refusing; he did not care for soda.
+On second thought, however, he drank it soberly.
+
+Percy appreciated his father's acceptance of the proffered courtesy.
+
+"It's the first time my money ever bought anything for you."
+
+The experience was a novel one for them both.
+
+Just after light one morning the wrecking-tug from Boston appeared. A
+brief examination of the _Barona's_ hull by a diver showed that the
+havoc wrought by the sea and rocks had been so great that but little of
+value could be saved. So the tug started back that very afternoon, and
+the captain and the mate of the yacht went with her.
+
+The weather was now much cooler, and the boys were glad that their stay
+was to be short. Wild geese were honking overhead in V-shaped lines on
+their way south. Mr. Whittington accompanied the others on a gunning
+trip to Window Ledge, and came back with a dozen coots. He smacked his
+lips over the coot stew and dumplings prepared by Jim. Throppy
+dismantled his wireless and packed up his outfit to send away.
+
+On their last Thursday at Tarpaulin Uncle Tom Sprowl came in on the
+smack with Captain Higgins. He had boarded the _Calista_ at York Island.
+Everybody, including Nemo and Oso, was glad to see Uncle Tom. His
+rheumatism was fully cured and he was spry and chipper. He was more than
+satisfied with what the boys had accomplished during the summer, and he
+planned to continue lobstering after their departure.
+
+He noted the change in Percy.
+
+"Told Jim your son needed salting," he confided to Mr. Whittington.
+"He's all right now."
+
+The afternoon before they were to leave the island Roger reckoned up his
+accounts. They showed that after Uncle Tom's share had been deducted,
+Spurling & Company had a thousand dollars to divide. Of this, one
+hundred dollars had already been paid to Filippo.
+
+Lane handed Percy one hundred and fifty dollars.
+
+"I don't want him to take that," objected Mr. Whittington.
+
+"We shouldn't feel right if he didn't," said Jim.
+
+"Dad," spoke up Percy, "I want it. I've earned it. Look at those hands
+and arms. It's the first money I ever had that you didn't give to me.
+I'm going to have one of the bills framed behind glass."
+
+"He's earned it, fast enough," corroborated Jim. "Let him take it, Mr.
+Whittington. We'll all feel better about it if you will."
+
+So the millionaire gave his consent, with the mental reservation that in
+some way he would make it up to the others later.
+
+"What are you going to do with all that wealth, Percy?" he asked. "It
+won't keep you very long in gasolene."
+
+"Send half of it to Filippo for his brother Frank," replied Percy,
+promptly. "He lost about all he had when the _Barona_ was wrecked."
+
+Later that afternoon Mr. Whittington took Jim aside out of Percy's
+hearing.
+
+"Honestly, between us, how has the boy done this summer?"
+
+"I wouldn't ask to have anybody take hold any better than he has since
+the middle of July."
+
+The millionaire looked gratified.
+
+"I'm more than pleased at the way things have turned out, and I don't
+know how I can ever repay you. Can't I help you somehow in money
+matters?"
+
+Jim shook his head decidedly.
+
+"No, thank you, Mr. Whittington. As I told you at the beginning of the
+summer, we're making our own way. Percy is entitled to every cent we've
+paid him, and I can honestly say we're glad he's been with us."
+
+A half-hour afterward Mr. Whittington found his son alone.
+
+"How about those college conditions, Percy?" he asked.
+
+"Just finished my work on 'em before the wreck, Dad. I'm ready to take
+my exams the minute I strike college. It's been a hard pull, harder even
+than the fishing and lobstering, and it's kept me hustling; but I
+believe I've won out. Studying isn't so bad. All you've got to do is to
+make up your mind to get your lessons, and then get 'em."
+
+"That's so in other things besides studying, Percy. You'll find it out
+later on."
+
+"I guess I don't need to tell you," continued his son, "how much I owe
+to Jim Spurling and the others. They're the whitest bunch I ever ran
+with, and I wouldn't have missed my summer with them for anything."
+
+"Something different from what you felt three months ago, eh, Percy?
+Remember our talk at Graffam Academy, Commencement night?"
+
+"Rather guess I do! And, believe me, I sha'n't forget it in a hurry. By
+the way, there's one fellow I owe a good deal to that I haven't told
+you about yet."
+
+He related to his father the story of his two encounters with Jabe. The
+older man listened with grim but satisfied attention.
+
+"Licked him at last, did you? If you hadn't, I should want you to look
+him up and do it now. It's a Whittington habit to carry through what you
+begin. Well, Percy, you've certainly made good."
+
+A glimmer of pride, the first he had ever shown in his son, crossed his
+face.
+
+"I blamed you for junking your auto. Now I've gone and junked a yacht
+that'll cost me more than fifty times as much. Well, there's no fool
+like the old fool! But it's been worth it."
+
+He gave his son a look in which affection mingled with pride.
+
+"It was quicksilver, kill or cure; and I'm mighty glad it's been cure."
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM SPURLING, FISHERMAN***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 26560.txt or 26560.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/5/6/26560
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://www.gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/26560.zip b/26560.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..90b25a8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/26560.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6509e37
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #26560 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/26560)