Part 12

The lads gave no further attention to Captain Doak, after making certain that he was pulling toward the Port at his best pace, and five minutes later their dory had rounded the point, opening to view the shore of the cove.

Then it was that both the boys ceased rowing very suddenly, as they gave vent to a cry of mingled anger and sorrow, for the shanty appeared to be in a blaze, with the flames already bursting out through the roof.

"That's what the old heathen has been doin'!" Tom cried in a rage, as he dipped his oars deep in the water. "Pull around, Sam, so's we can overhaul him, an' no matter how big he is, I'll give him a dose that won't be forgotten very soon!"

"Even if we could get the best of him, there's no use chasin' his boat; he's got a good mile the start, an' we'd never be able to make that up 'twixt here an' the Port. Pull, Tom, pull the best you know how, an' perhaps we can save some few of the things!"

"It's too late now, for the whole place is in a light blaze," Tom replied sorrowfully, but he obeyed the command to the best of his ability, and the dory was sent over the water at a rate of speed which, it is safe to say, she had never equaled.

The boys did not slow down on nearing the shore, but ran her at full speed high up on the sand, leaping over the rail even as she struck, but before they had taken a single step in the direction of the shanty it was possible to see that any efforts of theirs would be useless.

Uncle Ben's home, slightly built of inflammable material, was burning fiercely, the flames leaping up from every point, and it could be understood that Captain Doak had waited until making certain his villainous work was thoroughly performed before he left the island.

The boys ran at full speed, however, hardly knowing what they did, and came to a halt only when the heat of the fire prevented any nearer approach. Here they stood watching the devouring flames in silence a full minute, when Tom, turning in the direction of the Port, shook his fist threateningly as he cried angrily:

"It makes no difference what Uncle Ben says, if ever I come within strikin' distance of that miserable pirate! The idea of burnin' a shanty when he couldn't do himself any good, but only to turn an old man outer house an' home! Come on, Sam, even if we can't catch him we'll tell the folks at the Port what he has done, an' I'll be way out of my reckonin' if they don't make it hot for him before he's many hours older!"

"We can't spend the time to go there till after the traps have been hauled, 'cause even if the shanty is burned we've got to take care of the lobsters," Sam replied with a sigh. "If we could only rig up some kind of a place for Uncle Ben to sleep in when he get back!"

"He'll have the 'Sally,' won't he? We can live aboard of her till another house is built; but it'll take all the money that comes in from the mackerel to pay for new lumber."

"I forgot that we'd have the schooner for a home, so things ain't quite so bad as they might have been. See here, Tom, we mustn't think of runnin' after Cap'en Doak, for there's no knowin' but that we'll have to carry a load of lobsters to the Port, an' if that's so, we oughter get off early, 'cause we must be back before dark."

"Why? There's no place here for us to sleep, 'less we camp under the trees an' if we have to go to the Port I'm thinkin' we'd best stay there till mornin', 'cause there's no show Uncle Ben can get back even as early as to-morrow."

"You're right; but even at that we can't hang 'round here very long, seein's how there's nothin' to be done. Let's pull the traps, an' then make up our minds what we'd best do."

"Say, we've got to go to the town, 'cause there ain't anythin' here to eat, an' I'm mighty hungry already."

"Come on, then; we'll tackle the traps, for it's a case of goin' hungry till that work has been done an' we've pulled a heavy dory six or seven miles!"

*CHAPTER XXI*

*AT THE PORT*

Tom's hunger increased as he realized that it would be impossible to get anything to eat until after considerable heavy work had been done, and he was already tired with the labors of the day; but since Sam did not complain, he would have been ashamed to speak of his own desires or needs, and followed his comrade back to where they had so hastily left the dory.

"It's goin' to come pretty tough on us, I reckon; but we oughter be willin' to tire ourselves a big bit, seein's this is about the best chance we'll ever have to show Uncle Ben what we're willin' to do toward squarin' up for his bein' so good to us," Sam said, as if believing his companion needed heartening, and Tom replied stoutly, forcing a smile to his lips:

"Don't get it inter your head that I'm goin' to cry baby jest 'cause I can't fill myself up with things to eat. I've been hungry many a time when I didn't see any show ahead for gettin' the next day's breakfast, an' reckon I can hold out as long as you. It won't do any harm if we lay in a cargo of water. My mouth is pretty dry, an' that old pirate couldn't play any funny business with the spring."

Then the boys refreshed themselves with cold water, after which they launched the dory to set about the work of hauling traps, each doing his best to make it appear that plenty of exercise was the one thing needed at that time.

The catch was not as large as on the previous night, but yet they brought in so many lobsters that Sam knew from experience it would not be wise to leave such a large number in the car any length of time, and said with an air of wisdom as they neared the cove on their return:

"We'd have to go to the Port even though the shanty hadn't been burned, an' if we count on gettin' there before dark it's a case of hustlin' right lively from now on. We'll take as big a cargo as can be carried in good shape, an' be off. Do you want another drink of water?"

"I could stow away considerable, but I reckon we'd better not stop to go to the spring. The sooner we strike the Port the sooner we'll get somethin' to eat, an' I'm growin' mighty hollow inside."

It was neither a long nor a difficult task to take from the car, by aid of a gaff, as many lobsters as were needed to make up a fairly good cargo for the dory, and when this had been done the lads buckled down to the oars once more, both feeling so tired that under any other circumstances they would have believed it absolutely impossible to make the journey.

With so heavy a load the boat moved sluggishly through the water, despite all their efforts, and, to add to their labor, the wind was dead ahead.

"It's goin' to be a long pull; but Uncle Ben says that any job can be done by stickin' at it. So don't let's look around to see how near we are, but keep on workin' the oars till we get there," Sam said with a brave effort at cheerfulness as he set the example.

The lads were not inclined for conversation during the journey; both were nearly exhausted, and it required all their courage to continue at the laborious task. It really seemed as if the dory lay like a log on the water, and no matter how they tugged at the oars, which had apparently grown wonderfully heavy since morning, it seemed impossible to crawl away from the island.

Tom shut his teeth tightly as he worked, while Sam, trusting that his comrade would steer the craft, kept his eyes fixed upon the bottom of the boat, striving manfully to forget that he was weary, thirsty, and hungry. The rippling of the water against the side of the dory was the only sound to be heard; the sun, although very near to setting, sent his most fervent rays across the lazy swell of the ocean as if trying to discourage the toiling lads, while the warm wind, instead of refreshing, only added to their discomfort.

But, following Uncle Ben's advice, they "stuck at it" without any interval of rest, and, as a matter of course, decreased the distance between themselves and the Port by a certain number of inches with every stroke of the oars.

Finally, just when the sun had sunk out of sight behind the western hills, the dory poked her nose around that point of land which formed the eastern arm, or side, of Southport harbor, and Sam said with a long-drawn sigh of relief as he pulled a trifle more vigorously at the oars:

"It surely seems as if we'd been rowin' two or three days. I did think, when Uncle Ben told me I might live with him on Apple Island, that the time never could come when I'd be played out by pullin' a boat, 'cause of bein' so glad that I had a decent home once more; but if we'd been much longer rowin' over here I ain't certain as I could have stuck at it."

"Don't talk about it," Tom replied with a groan. "I'm so near dead that if I stop to think I'll tumble over. It did seem a spell ago as if I was starvin'; but now I'd rather lay down an' sleep than have the best dinner that ever was cooked!"

Ten minutes later the dory was made fast to the pier, and, by the rarest good fortune, the first person in Southport who learned of their arrival was Mr. Mansfield. He had just sauntered down on the wharf when Sam crawled ashore with the painter, and, as a matter of course, was curious to learn why they had come without Uncle Ben.

But little time was spent in telling the story, for no sooner had Mr. Mansfield gotten an inkling of the mischief done, than he turned abruptly, almost running up the street.

"Now what?" Tom, who had thrown himself full length on the pier, asked with mild curiosity, being so nearly exhausted that he could not display a very lively interest in anything.

"I reckon he's gone to tell the folks what's been done. We'll have to wait here."

"That's jest what I want to do, an' he needn't hurry back on my account, for I could stay right where I am till mornin' an' not fret myself very much."

There was little need for the boys to speculate as to the reason for Mr. Mansfield's sudden departure. He returned within five minutes and at once began to ask many questions, to all of which Sam replied as well as he was able; but before having given any great amount of information his eyes closed in sleep, despite all his efforts to keep them open, and the shopkeeper exclaimed in a tone of self-reproach:

"I come mighty nigh bein' a brute to keep you here talkin', when, 'cordin' to what's been said, you must have been workin' like beavers since before daybreak. Toddle up to my house an' go to bed. There ain't any chance Uncle Ben can get back within the next four an' twenty hours."

Not only did Mr. Mansfield provide them with a bed, but his wife insisted on their eating a hearty meal before lying down, and when, finally, the two lads had an opportunity to crawl between the lavender-scented sheets, Tom said with a sigh of content:

"It pays to get awfully tired, jest for the sake of findin' out how nice it is to go to bed."

Then it was as if he had dropped into dreamland on the instant, for the words were hardly more than out of his mouth before he was breathing heavily. And Sam did not have time to realize the condition of his comrade, for he himself was lost in the blissful unconsciousness of slumber.

Not until the sun had been looking in at the chamber window of Mr. Mansfield's house a full hour did the boys realize where they were, and then Sam jumped out of bed as he cried:

"Just think of it, Tom, after all our work to get the lobsters here, we left them in the dory all night, an' it'll be the biggest kind of luck if any of 'em are alive now!"

Very hurriedly did the boys dress, and they would have hastened out of the house on the instant if Mrs. Mansfield had not insisted on their partaking of the breakfast which had been kept so long waiting.

"William took care of the lobsters last night, so there's no reason why you should be in such a hurry," she said when Sam attempted to explain why they should be on the pier as soon as possible. "Captain Doak won't be brought before 'Squire Kelly till nine o'clock, an' there's nothing you can do till then."

"Cap'en Doak!" Sam repeated in amazement. "Why is he to come up before the 'Squire?"

"Because he burned Uncle Ben's house, of course," the good woman replied sharply. "Do you suppose the people of the Port are going to allow him to carry on at such a rate? He will have a trial and be punished for what he has done, so William says."

This was most pleasing news to Tom, who did not hesitate to say he "hoped the old heathen" would be sent to prison for a long time; but Sam, although believing the culprit should be punished, felt sad because the man was to answer for his misdeeds.

"Oh," he said, as if trying to find some excuse for the man who had abused him so long, "he ain't anywhere near so bad when he's sober."

"Then it's time he was put where he can't be anything else," Mrs. Mansfield replied sharply. "I've been longing to have him brought up to answer for his tricks ever since your mother died. She, poor woman, the same as had the life worried out of her by that miserable creature!"

Mrs. Mansfield was not the only person in town who believed the time had come when Captain Doak should be put where he could not give way to his appetite and his temper, as the boys learned when they went out on the street after having eaten what Tom declared was "the breakfast of their lives."

The townspeople were determined that Uncle Ben's family should not longer be exposed to the vicious whims of Eliakim Doak, and the testimony of Sam and Tom, who saw him pulling away from the island shortly after the shanty had been set on fire, was sufficient to convict.

The result of the fire was that the former owner of the "Sally D." received a sentence of ninety days in the county jail, in addition to paying a fine of two hundred dollars; but it was understood that if he left town at once the sentence would not be carried into effect until he showed himself again in the state.

It so happened that a lumber-laden vessel was on the point of leaving the harbor bound for Cuba and on her Captain Doak took passage, thus passing out of the lives of those whom he had wronged, and from that day until now neither Uncle Ben's family, nor any citizen of Southport, has ever seen or heard of him.

When the trial had been brought to an end and the angry citizens saw Eliakim leave the harbor on the Cuban-bound craft, Sam and Tom were called upon to tell over and over again the story of the previous day's good and bad happenings, and when the two lads insisted that they must set out for Apple Island in order to arrive before dark Mr. Mansfield said as he went with them to the pier:

"You are to tell Uncle Ben that we of the Port will buy lumber enough to build him a regular house, an' he's to come over here after it when he gets back from Portland. Say to him that we count it our duty to make up for the mischief Eliakim has done, an' when he's ready to put up the buildin' we'll all lend a hand. I reckon we'll make it a reg'lar vacation time. You'll find that mother has sent down food enough to keep you from bein' hungry till the schooner comes back, an' it won't be any great hardship if you do have to sleep out-of-doors this night."

"You've been awful good to us, Mr. Mansfield, an' we won't forget it," Sam said, as he took his seat in the dory, and Tom added:

"It kinder seems as if everybody was good since Uncle Ben took us in hand, an' I'm hopin' the day'll come when I can show him how I feel on account of what he did when he started a family."

"Uncle Ben Johnson is the salt of the earth, if there's sich a thing, an' the funny part of it is that it has taken us folks here at the Port so long to find it out. We've got the idee now, though, an' will keep it in mind mighty fresh."

Then the journey to Apple Island was begun, the lads pulling steadily and strong after their long rest, and once outside the harbor Tom said reflectively:

"I ain't so certain but that your old heathen did Uncle Ben a good turn when he set the shanty afire, 'cause now the old man will have a decent house, which is more'n would ever have come his way if he'd had to spend good money buildin' it."

"That's 'cause he wants to keep all the dollars he can get to help out on raisin' a family, an' it strikes me that he's doin' it mighty fast, though I ain't certain as we can have such high times when there are a good many fellows around."

Then the lads fell to discussing what would be the result after Uncle Ben's plan had been fully carried into execution, and they were not at an end of it when the dory was run up on the sand near the ruins of the shanty.

Again was it time to attend to the traps, and, stopping only to catch cunners enough to serve as bait, the lads went about their task, believing that when the work was come to an end they must perforce find for themselves beds among the bushes, for it did not seem possible the "Sally" could return from Portland until another day had passed.

The catch was not large on this afternoon, although the labor of hauling the pots was as great as if they had loaded the dory gunwale deep with lobsters, and the last one had been thrown into the car just as the sun sank out of sight.

"I reckon we'd better hustle if we count on findin' a good place for sleepin', 'cause it'll be dark in the woods. I'm---- Hello! There's the 'Sally'! Why do you s'pose she didn't go to Portland?"

*CHAPTER XXII*

*FREIGHTING LUMBER*

Even Uncle Ben found it difficult to remain sedate, as the head of a family should, when Sam and Tom pulled alongside. Little Joey was running fore and aft on the deck, clapping his hands as he screamed for very joy, while Mr. Rowe leaned over the rail to shout something which the lads could not understand, and the old lobster catcher tried hard to appear unconcerned, but he could hold out no longer when the boys clambered on board.

Reaching out a hand to each of them he cried in a tone of triumph, as if it was no longer possible for him to keep the secret:

"We got two hundred an' ten dollars for the catch, lads! Only think of that! Near to half what the 'Sally' has cost us!"

"An' it ain't the last two-hundred-dollar fare we'll take 'twixt now an' winter!" Mr. Rowe cried from amid the mainsail which he was trying to snug down and at the same time listen to what was being said.

"But how did you get back so quickly?" Sam asked. "We didn't allow to see you before to-morrow night!"

Mr. Rowe could no longer attend to his work, but, emerging from the billowy folds of canvas, he cried exultantly:

"We got back so soon because the 'Sally' is a reg'lar flyer! When I sailed with Eliakim I allowed she could go some, but since we've shifted her rig she don't touch the water at all--jest skims over the top like one of them 'ere flyin' fish. Why, lads, she's made as good as eleven knots ever since we parted company with you, an' if that ain't goin' some I'd like to know what you call it?"

"She surely is a swift craft!" Uncle Ben added emphatically, and one had only to look at his face in order to understand that a sailor's love for a beautiful vessel was taking root in his heart. "Did you lads carry a load of lobsters to the Port?"

"Ay, that we did, an' have only been home long enough to pull the pots," Sam replied, at a loss to know how he should break the sad news to the old man. "We had a full cargo, though I'm thinkin' we wouldn't have gone if it hadn't been for Cap'en Doak----"

"Has he been here again?" Uncle Ben asked in alarm.

Now it was Tommy's turn to share in the story-telling, and, taking the old man by the arm, he led him aft, where a view could have been had of the shanty if it had still been standing, saying as he did so:

"I reckon you can see what's been done?"

"What do you mean, lad? What has been done?" Uncle Ben asked impatiently, failing to note the blackened ruins.

"Can you see the shanty?"

A cry of sorrow burst from the old man's lips, and his face suddenly paled as he understood that his home had been reduced to ashes.

"How did it happen, boys? How could it have burned? Wasn't you here, or did it---- No, that couldn't be, for we didn't leave any fire in the stove!"

"That pirate of a Doak did it, Uncle Ben!" Tommy cried passionately. "We got back just in time to see him pullin' outer the cove, an' then the shanty was in a blaze. But I'm thinkin' he won't set any more houses afire, leastways, till that vessel gets to Cuba!"

As a matter of course Uncle Ben could not understand the meaning of the words and no small amount of time was spent in telling the whole story. When all the details had been given, and not until then, did Reuben Rowe speak, when, raising his hand as if taking an oath, he cried angrily:

"I hope that miserable specimen of a man will know what it is to go hungry before he dies, an' if I'm anywhere around I'll chuck good grub away before givin' him the littlest bit!"

"Now, now, Reuben, that's bein' downright wicked," Uncle Ben cried, seizing Mr. Rowe by the arm. "We'll hope Eliakim will come in time to realize what he's about, an' turn from the evil of his ways."

"Wa'al, I s'pose I'm wishin' somethin' of the same thing; but at the same time I'd like to have a hand in the turnin' of him, an' then I'll go bail he'd know it had been done!" and Mr. Rowe went back to snugging down the mainsail as if fearing he could not contain his wrath before the head of the family.

"Wasn't anythin' saved from the fire?" Uncle Ben asked after a long pause.

"Everythin' was burning when we got ashore, an' now we'll have to live aboard the schooner, I reckon," Tom replied.

"If the folks at the Port are goin' to furnish lumber for a new house, why not run over there to-night?" Reuben asked, ceasing work suddenly again. "The boys have 'tended to the pots an' there bein' nothin' here for us to do we may as well be savin' time."

"Do as you like, Reuben, do as you like," the old man said in a sorrowful tone as he turned abruptly and went into the cabin, Mr. Rowe saying in a whisper as Uncle Ben descended the companionway:

"He's takin' it mightily to heart, an' I can't say as he's to be blamed. The shanty wasn't much as houses go, but he'd built it himself, an' lived in it all his life, so to speak. It won't make any difference how good a buildin' goes up in its place, he'll allers be mournin' for the old one. Wa'al, it can't be helped now, though I do wish Eliakim hadn't been let off quite so easy. In with the anchor, lads, an' we'll make harbor off the Port before midnight. Bear a hand lively, an' perhaps it'll chirk Uncle Ben up a bit if he hears us bustlin' 'round."

Not until the "Sally" was under way once more, eating up the miles on her way to Southport, did Uncle Ben come out of the cabin, and then, in the hope of cheering him ever so little, Sam went to his side, taking him by the hand.

"I'd try not to feel so awfully bad, Uncle Ben, for if the family grows any bigger you'd had to have another house or else left some of us out in the rain."

"I know it, Sammy, I know it, but somehow I can't help feelin' mighty lonesome 'cause the shanty's gone, an' what makes it seem worse is that it wouldn't have been burned if I hadn't been so childish 'bout wantin' to go on the 'Sally's' first cruise. If I had stayed at home Eliakim never'd done sich a wicked thing."

"Now that ain't certain, Uncle Ben, 'cause perhaps you'd been out pullin' pots, an' he'd had the same chance. You'll like the new house just as well after we get it built," and Sam patted the old man's hand as he would have done to soothe a distressed baby.

"It'll never be quite the same, Sammy boy, but I ain't got any right to brood over what can't be helped, an' I'll try mighty hard to keep it from my mind. S'pose you an' I cook supper! That'll kinder take up our attention."