Chapter 5

IN THE CABIN OF THE GOLDWING.

"Here is the letter, Dory," said Mr. Hawlinshed when he had sealed and directed the envelope. "You will have to go about a mile beyond the place where we met last night. Mr. Pearl Hawlinshed," he added, reading the address upon the letter.

"Pearl!" repeated Dory, as he took the letter and read the name for himself.

"That is the name; and the person to whom it is addressed is my son," replied the writer of the missive.

"Your son!" exclaimed Dory, looking intently into the face of his new friend.

"Yes: is there any thing very strange about that? He is my only son, my only child; and his mother has been dead many years."

"Your son!" repeated Dory, as though he was unable to comprehend the relation.

"Pearl Hawlinshed; and he is my son. Is there any thing very strange about it?" asked the father, looking anxiously at Dory.

"But he is the man who fired the gun at you, and then pitched into you," added Dory.

Mr. Hawlinshed manifested a great deal of emotion. He dropped into his chair, from which he had risen when he finished his letter. He appeared to be greatly astonished that his companion had discovered the relationship between himself and the person to whom the letter was addressed.

"How do you know all that, Dory?" asked Mr. Hawlinshed, trying to calm himself.

"I heard you call him 'Pearl' before I took a hand in the affair," replied Dory candidly. "I don't know that I should ever have thought of the name again if you hadn't given me this letter."

"Then it is very unfortunate that I gave you the letter; but I wished to be sure that it reached him," said Mr. Hawlinshed, very much perplexed at the situation. "You know more than I supposed, and I am very sorry for it. The terrible truth is no longer a secret between my son and myself."

"I ought not to have let on that I knew his name," added Dory, who felt that he had made a mistake.

"Since you knew the fact, I am glad that you spoke. You know that it was my son that attacked me, and who attempted to take the money from me," continued the poor father bitterly.

"But it shall be all the same as though I did not know any thing about it," protested Dory. "After one year or ten you will find that I can keep a secret."

"I am willing to trust you, Dory; and I should be willing, even if I could help myself, and were not entirely in your power," added the unhappy father. "Now you will want to know something about the reason why he attacked me, and tried to get my money from me."

"No, sir: I will not ask any thing about the difficulty. I suppose you and your son could not agree, and I know another case just like it. It is your family affair, and it is none of my business."

"It would take me hours to tell the whole story, and it is too painful to dwell upon. You will keep the secret, Dory?"

"I will never hint that I ever heard your name. I will leave you now, so that no one shall know that I ever saw you, or at least that I ever had any thing to do with you."

"But, Dory, when you tell your mother about the money you have, you will have to explain where you got it. I don't want you to tell any lies about it."

"I shall not give her all the money, and perhaps not any of it," said Dory.

"Not give it to her? I have taken you for a boy who wanted to help his mother; and this view of your character has led me to trust you more than I would if you had not told me your story."

"But I shall use the money for her benefit. I am not going to fool it away. I shall make a business with it which will enable me to help her," replied Dory with enthusiasm.

"What is the business, Dory?"

Dory hesitated. There was a contingency about it, and he was afraid that Mr. Hawlinshed would not approve his plan. He was not altogether clear in regard to it himself, and he did not care to commit himself.

"I should like to keep that as my secret. I am going to help my mother; but I am not sure that I can make the plan work, and I don't want to say any thing about it yet."

"But you will have to explain where you got your money," suggested Mr. Hawlinshed.

"I will promise never to say one word about what happened in the woods. I will give this letter to your son to-morrow morning, and then I will bury the whole thing forever. No one shall ever know where the money came from."

Mr. Hawlinshed had a great many doubts, as well he might have had. But he was in a very trying situation himself. His relations with his son were unpleasant. He had no malice or ill feeling towards Pearl, and all he wanted was to conceal the sad act of the young man.

Dory was very tired; and he could not help gaping, he was so sleepy. He shook hands with his new friend, who said they might never meet again. If he returned to the vicinity of Burlington, he should certainly look him up; and he hoped he should find him an honest, industrious, and prosperous young man. Dory left the room.

He kept one hand in his pocket on the wallet which contained the treasure that was to open up the brilliant scheme by which he hoped to support his mother and sister. He went out of the hotel without any definite idea of where he intended to go. It was ten o'clock by this time. He was not penniless now, as he had been before. He was rich enough to spend the night, or even a week or a month, at the Witherill House; but the idea of going there, or to any other public house, did not occur to him.

Though he had five dollars for "expenses," he could not think of paying out a dollar, or even half a dollar, for a night's lodging. That would do very well for Mr. Vanderbilt, but not for him. It would be throwing money away. He walked down to the lake. He was not so sleepy as he had been. Stirring himself had waked him up. As he came to the wharf, his brilliant scheme leaped into his head again.

During his stop at Plattsburgh the day before, he had seen a sailboat, which was to be sold at auction with other effects of its deceased owner. He had looked the craft over, and asked a great many questions about her. Though she was twenty-five feet long, and was handsomely fitted up, the knowing ones said she would not bring a hundred dollars at auction.

She could not have cost less than five or six hundred, but she had a bad name. Her late owner had been drowned in consequence of her upsetting. People said it was the fault of the boat. She carried a lee helm, and upset when there was no excuse for her doing so. She had been known to tip over three times, and she was sure to drown whoever bought her.

Dory looked her over very carefully. He had been about all sorts of boats ever since he was a small boy. In fact, he was a natural water-bird, almost as much so as a duck. He was a born mechanic, and his taste not less than his associations had led him to apply his mechanical genius to boats and boating.

The name of the boat was the Goldwing. Dory had examined her the day before, and he "took no stock" in her bad name. He was very sure that any boat would behave badly if rigged and ballasted as the Goldwing was. He wished he owned her, or that he could obtain the use of her for the season. He was confident that he could redeem her reputation.

In connection with this boat had bubbled up his brilliant scheme. If he had her at Burlington, or at several other points on the lake, he could make five dollars a day, if not six or eight, by taking out parties. Such a business was more to his taste, and afforded a better field for his talents, than tending table in the cabin of a steamer.

But it was no use to think of the Goldwing. If five dollars would have bought her, he had not the money to invest in the enterprise. He had no friend upon whom he could call for aid in such a speculation. He might as well think of buying and running one of the large steamers on the lake.

But since dark that evening the whole aspect of his fortunes had changed. He had over a hundred dollars in his pocket, and the Goldwing was to be sold the next day. He did not wish to put all his little fortune into a boat; but he was determined to have the boat, if she was knocked down for a sum within his means.

The Goldwing lay at the wharf. Dory surveyed her as well as he could in the darkness, and then he stepped on board of her. She had been built on purpose for her late owner, on a model somewhat different from her class of boats on the lake; and this created a prejudice against her in the boating fraternity. Dory had seen her frequently under sail, and he was delighted with her.

She was decked over forward, and had a little cabin in this part of the craft. The doors which opened into this apartment were not locked, and Dory went into it. He lighted a match, and discovered a lantern hanging from a deck-beam. He lighted it, and found that the cabin was furnished with two berths, in each of which was a berth-sack. As he looked over this part of the fitting-up of the boat, he gaped again.

He might as well sleep there as in any other place. He had no fear that the ghost of the late owner would disturb him. He arranged the doors so that they could not be opened without waking him, and then lay down in one of the berths. He was going to think over his brilliant scheme; but, before he had done much thinking, he fell asleep.

He did not wake till the swash of the night boat from the south caused the Goldwing to bump against the wharf. It was five o'clock in the morning. He felt in his pocket, and found that his money was safe. He slept another hour after this, and then went on shore. He got his breakfast at a restaurant, and then started to deliver the letter.

He reached his destination in about an hour. He inquired for Pearl Hawlinshed, and found him without any difficulty. He was about twenty-two years old. He did not look like the ferocious being he expected to find in a man who was wicked enough to fire a gun at his father. He was pale, thoughtful in his look, and was rather inclined to melancholy. Dory thought he had enough to think about, and that it was his duty to be melancholy.

Pearl asked him where he got the letter, and Dory said it had been given him by a man in Plattsburgh to bring out to him. He did not wait to answer any questions; and he felt in honor bound not to inquire into any thing relating to Mr. Hawlinshed, father or son.

He returned in season to attend the auction. It was like a funeral party. Dory made the second bid for the boat.