Part 9

"It will be in five minutes, for then the biscuit'll be done," and away Sam ran toward the shanty, petting Joey as if he was really the baby he looked to be. "You'll get on here famously," he said when they were come to the building, "for it'll only be a case of settin' still an' seein' yourself grow fat. Then when our schooner is afloat what great times you'll have fishin'!"

"Do you s'pose your Uncle Ben will let me stay here very long?" the little lad asked wistfully.

"Of course he will, else you wouldn't have been brought here. He's buildin' up a family out of jest sich lonesome boys as you an' me, an' you've come here to be part of it. Camp down in my bunk while I look after the supper, for I'm the cook, an' keep on thankin' your lucky stars that Uncle Ben happened to see you at the right time. How long have you been at the poor farm?"

"Ever since I can remember."

"Did you like it out there?"

"It wasn't very nice," Joey replied timidly, and Sam added emphatically:

"I'll bet it wasn't, though there was one spell when I thought it would be a good deal better than livin' aboard the 'Sally D.' with Cap'en Doak ugly a good deal more'n half the time. Did you ever see that cousin down in St. Johns?"

"I never knew there was one till Deacon Stubbs said it was a shame a big boy like me should be eatin' the bread of idleness, when I had blood relations that were next door to rollin' in luxury."

"Well, was you idle?"

"I did everything they told me--lugged in the wood, split the kindlings, drove the cows to pasture, an' brought in the water----"

"An' that's what they call eatin' the bread of idleness!" Uncle Ben cried as he entered with his arms full of packages, which he laid in one of the bunks, and, taking Joey in his arms, seated himself by the window. "Look out there at our schooner, sonny boy! Some day she'll be layin' at anchor, as trim a craft as ever floated, an' then you shall walk the quarter-deck like any cap'en, while we do the drudgery. You're one of the family now, Joey, an' I'm countin' that all hands will come to love you as much as I've found time to do already. You're a wee mite of a thing, an' it's a baby we've been needin' to make things ship-shape, so that's the berth you've dropped inter. Now then, Sammy, get them biscuit out, for I reckon our Joey is mighty sharkish, seein's he hasn't had any dinner, an' come to think of it, neither have I, for that matter."

Mr. Rowe came into the shanty on tiptoe, as if thinking he must be very quiet while Uncle Ben was holding the "baby," and Tommy, who followed him, said laughingly: "You'd think Joey was a reg'lar kid, by the way Mr. Rowe moves 'round. But say, don't it make things look better to see sich a little shaver here!"

Joey would have been very hard to please if the greeting he received in his new home had not soothed his heart, and by the time Uncle Ben made a "high chair" by putting a buoy on one of the stools and covering it with an old fish-net, he appeared to be in the best of spirits.

"A month of this kind of livin', with plenty of fresh air an' nobody to talk 'bout the bread of idleness, will make a new man of you, Joey," Uncle Ben said when the tiny lad, unable to swallow another mouthful, slipped down from the fish-net cushion. "I'm allowin' to set here in stormy weather, when there's nothin' to be done outside, an' jest watch you grow fat."

*CHAPTER XVI*

*"THE BABY"*

If, when Uncle Ben started for the Port on the trip when he found Joey Sampson, Sam and Tom had been told that anything could happen on Apple Island which might turn the least little portion of their attention from the schooner they would have said indignantly that it was not possible, and yet not only the two lads, but even Mr. Rowe, soon came to think that the new, tiny member of the family was more interesting than the work of wrecking.

On the morning after Joey's arrival Uncle Ben insisted on being allowed to wash the dishes and set the house to rights, claiming that it might be better for Sam and Tom to spend all the time possible, before the hour came for hauling the traps, helping Mr. Rowe, and Sam said almost jealously, when he followed the others out of the shanty very shortly after daybreak:

"I really believe Uncle Ben is willin' to do the housework this mornin', so's he can watch Joey! But say, I don't blame him a little bit, for that baby is mighty cute!"

"It's goin' to be a big thing for us to have him 'round here," Tom replied reflectively. "Jest as soon as Uncle Ben gets through foolin' with him we'll take the little shaver out in the dory to let him see us haul in the lobsters----"

"You won't do any sich risky thing!" Mr. Rowe said, emphatically. "Don't get the wild idee inter your heads that you can take the baby out in a dory 'less Uncle Ben or I go with you. 'Cordin' to the looks of the schooner, we haven't got to keep so terribly sharp at the work of floatin' her, now we've put the timbers in place, an' it may be that I can go out with you a spell this forenoon, so's to let Joey see what lobsterin' is like."

If one could judge by the expression which came over the faces of the lads when Mr. Rowe thus made it plain that he intended to have a full share of the "baby's" company, they were not particularly well pleased with this announcement, nor did they continue the subject further.

There was plenty of work before them, now that Uncle Ben had brought from Southport the needed materials, and the three set about it with a will during a full hour, when it seemed much as if they had lost interest, for then Uncle Ben came down to the shore leading Joey by the hand, and straightway each of the laborers appeared to believe he was called upon to entertain the new member of the family.

Uncle Ben stretched himself lazily on the sand as if it pleased him wondrously well to watch the "baby," while Mr. Rowe introduced him to the "Sally D.," even carrying him on board upon his shoulders, and, seeing Sam and Tommy wistfully watching the movements of the two, the old man said encouragingly:

"If you boys want to play with Joey, why don't you do it? I reckon, now that Reuben has got these famous timbers of his in place, there ain't any good reason why you shouldn't take things easy, an' the baby hasn't had any too comfortable a time in this world but that he'll take to a bit of sport with you."

Mr. Rowe was clambering down over the bow of the schooner as Uncle Ben thus spoke, and one might almost have fancied that he was displeased with the proposition which would prevent him from sharing in the romp. He said quickly to the lad who was yet seated on his shoulder:

"How would it strike you if we went over to look at the lobster car?"

"You can't see anythin' there, Joey," Tommy cried enticingly. "Come with Sam an' me; we'll roll up our trousers an' go in wadin'."

The little lad from the poorhouse scrambled down from Mr. Rowe's shoulder, eager to accept the invitation, and the former "crew" of the "Sally D." could do no less than seat himself by Uncle Ben's side, saying in an apologetic tone as he did so:

"I s'pose, when you come right down to facts, that I'm a leetle too old to be playin' with a lot of youngsters; but it seems so mighty good to have a baby like him cavortin' 'round, that I can't help wantin' to have a hand in the fun myself."

"I don't blame you, Reuben, I don't blame you a little bit, for I've been feelin' a good deal that way myself this mornin'. To have a little shaver like Joey tumblin' 'round, makes it seem as if we'd really started a family, an' if things go along as smooth as they oughter, what with the schooner, an' all these 'ere youngsters, the rest of my days will be spent in havin' a good time watchin' the rest of you runnin' the island. Look at that baby, will yer! Ain't it doin' him a world of good to be paddlin' in the water? I'm allowin' that when we got hold of him it was a good deal better trade than buyin' the schooner."

As a matter of fact, Joey Sampson so occupied the attention of all the "family" that when the hour of noon came around, and no more than sixty minutes had been spent in work on the "Sally," Mr. Rowe said half to himself, but yet speaking so loud that Uncle Ben could hear the words:

"He's a mighty smart baby, an' I'm glad he's goin' to live here on the island; but there's got to be some rules an' regerlations 'bout playin' with him, or watchin' others do it, else it'll be winter before we're ready to launch the schooner."

"I reckon you're right, Reuben," Uncle Ben said with a long-drawn sigh, "an' I'm goin' to draw a line on myself right away; but at the same time I don't know when I've enjoyed myself more'n I have this forenoon. As for the baby! Look at him rollin' over in the sand! At a moderate guess I'd say he'd fatted up a full half-pound since mornin'."

It was quite a long time, however, before Uncle Ben was able to "draw a line" upon himself to the extent of treating the "baby" like an ordinary member of the family. It was not until the old lobster catcher had taken him out in the dory that he might see the boys haul the traps, and that Mr. Rowe had given him an afternoon of pleasure on board the stranded schooner, and Sam and Tom had carried him to the grove in the centre of the island, that the regular routine of work was taken up once more.

Then all hands labored with a will to make up for the time spent in amusement, although each night, for at least half an hour after supper, Uncle Ben insisted on holding the "baby" on his knee while Sam and Tom washed the dishes and set the house to rights generally.

And as to Joey? Verily his lines had fallen in pleasant places. Never before had he received so much attention, and for the first time in his life did he understand what it meant to be loved and petted. It was the belief of all the members of the family that he was growing fat very rapidly, and Uncle Ben daily gave words to his regret that he had not been sufficiently thoughtful to have weighed the little fellow before leaving Southport, so they might know to a certainty how much Apple Island agreed with him.

It must not be supposed, however, that while the "family" was thus being amused by Joey as if he had been a veritable plaything, all the work was neglected. As Mr. Rowe said, "they spent about half the time coddlin' him, but managed to putter 'round the 'Sally D.' enough to show that they were really bent on launchin' her."

Then came the time when it was agreed among all hands that the "baby" must take care of himself, to a certain extent, and the work of wrecking was pushed forward with a will, each member of the family doing his best to make up the lost time.

The schooner's hull had been caulked and painted while yet she lay half in the sand and half on the rude ways, and Mr. Rowe felt confident every leak was stopped. Sam and Tom had taken it upon themselves to clean and paint the interior of the cabin until it was as sweet as soap and water could make it, and thus every token of Captain Doak had been cleared away.

Uncle Ben had made two trips to Southport, but Joey had refused each invitation to go with him, giving as his reason that Apple Island was far too pleasant a place to leave even for a single hour, and this refusal pleased the old man even more than to have had the lad all to himself during an entire day.

Then, about five weeks from the day when Uncle Ben became the owner of the "Sally D.," everything was made ready for the launching, and Mr. Rowe announced that at high tide on the following morning he would be able to prove to the family that his method of wrecking was without a flaw.

"We'll make a reg'lar Fourth of July out of the day," Uncle Ben declared, as he sat by the window with Joey on his knee, "an' even if we did squander considerable time on the baby when he first came, I'm allowin' that we've earned a little pleasurin', so Sammy an' Tommy shall get up the finest dinner they know how to cook, an' we'll eat it in the 'Sally's' cabin after she's swingin' to her anchor in the cove."

As a matter of course, this was welcome news to the cooks, and they at once set about deciding upon what particularly dainty dishes should be served, until Mr. Rowe said half to himself:

"When I think that in all this time Eliakim Doak hasn't showed hisself, I can't help fearin' he has been hatchin' some kind of mischief for unless he's left Southport, which don't seem likely, it ain't reasonable to think he'd be willin' to let us go on so smooth."

"Now, now, Reuben, don't go to crossin' bridges before you come to 'em," Uncle Ben said placidly, as he stroked Joey's hair affectionately. "I'm allowin' that Eliakim has come to see the evil of his ways, an' hasn't been givin' a thought to work us harm. Beside what call has he to do anythin' agin us? We paid cash for the schooner, an' more than anybody else would give, at a time when he wanted to sell her, so, as I've figgered it, we did him a good turn."

"There's no goin' back of that, Uncle Ben," Mr. Rowe agreed, "but doin' Eliakim Doak a good turn is much the same as if you'd kicked another man black an' blue. He ain't built the right way to appreciate it. The only time he can be made to understand is when somebody stands ready to knock him down whenever he goes wrong, an' that'll keep him where he belongs."

"Wa'al, Reuben, we won't bother our heads 'bout Eliakim jest now when the 'Sally' is so near afloat. Let's have our launchin' in the mornin' an' celebrate it the best we know how, without thinkin' of anythin' that ain't pleasant," and once more Uncle Ben gave himself up to the enjoyment of treating Joey as a veritable baby.

It is safe to say that at least once every five minutes during the remaining time of daylight each member of the "family" looked out of the window at the "Sally D." as she stood on the ways, looking every inch fit for the launching, and more jaunty, so Uncle Ben declared, than on the first day she made the acquaintance of the water.

There was no indication that the sun was near at hand when Mr. Rowe awakened the inmates of the shanty next morning, but he insisted they should be up and at work in order that, as he expressed it, "they might have plenty of time to look at the 'Sally' before she went slidin' down the well-greased ways."

Therefore it was that the sun had not yet risen when the family ate breakfast, and Sam and Tom finished the morning's work at least three hours before the tide would be at its height. They were intending to cook a regular feast to be carried aboard the "Sally" after she was in the water, but it would not be time to set about that for a long while and the lads, having nothing else with which to occupy themselves, strolled down to the beach when the shanty had been set to rights, where were Uncle Ben, Mr. Rowe and Joey Sampson gazing at the schooner as eagerly as if they had never seen her before.

"There's no use talkin', she'll make a snug little craft for this 'ere family," Mr. Rowe was saying as the lads joined the party, "an' if she don't bring in a good many more dollars than ever the lobster business did it's 'cause I've forgotten how to handle a line!"'

"I'm hopin' she'll pay well," Uncle Ben replied thoughtfully, "but it ain't on account of my hankerin' after the dollars for myself. I reckon there's enough left in the bank to pay my funeral expenses, an' I'm hopin' the Lord won't let me live after I can't take care of myself; but it's the family that's makin' me want to have more money comin' in. If I can see scraped together what's needed to buy the island an' have it fixed by the lawyers so's it'll always be a home for decent boys who are willin' to help themselves if they're given half a chance, then I'll feel as if I'd done somethin' in this 'ere world that's worth countin'."

Mr. Rowe looked oddly out of the corner of his eye at the old lobster catcher for a moment, and then said, half to himself:

"'Cordin' to the way I look at things, what you've already done is well worth countin', Uncle Ben, an' if there are sich matters as harps in the next world, yours oughter be the biggest an' have the most strings!"

"If that old heathen ain't comin' over here jest when we don't want him, I'm a duffer!" Tom screamed at the full strength of his lungs as he pointed across the water in the direction of Southport, and, turning quickly to learn the cause of the alarm, the other members of the family saw two dories heading for the island, one leading the other by a considerable distance.

In an instant Uncle Ben and Mr. Rowe were on their feet, the old lobster catcher showing by his face that he was seriously disturbed in mind, as he asked of Mr. Rowe in a gentle whisper:

"Do you allow, Reuben, that Eliakim can really be comin' here after havin' stayed away so long?"

"I'm ready to allow that there's nothin' too mean for him to do, 'specially when he's got one of his ugly spells. It strikes me that we've got to handle him my way, instead of yours, for you're too soft to deal with the likes of Eliakim Doak."

"We won't have any trouble, Reuben, unless he tries to do mischief, an' then allow we're warranted in protectin' our own. Ain't there two men in that first dory?"

"Yes, an' most like he's got some vagabond crony or another, with more trailin' on behind, allowin' that they'll do jest about as they please. Now see here, Uncle Ben," and Mr. Rowe spoke in an imploring tone. "You ain't built the right way to tackle sich as them, so s'pose you toddle up to the shanty with Joey, an' let the boys an' me 'tend to this 'ere job? I'm willin' to agree that soft words are all right as a general thing, but when it comes to throwin' 'em away on the likes of Eliakim, it's a waste of time an' breath. This 'ere is the same as your own island, an' if you'll crawl off somewhere, I'll see to it that Doak don't do any funny business."

*CHAPTER XVII*

*THE LAUNCHING*

Uncle Ben lifted Joey in his arms, as if about to do exactly as Mr. Rowe desired, and then remembering, most likely, that Reuben's methods of dealing with men like Captain Doak were not such as he approved of, he stood irresolute, gazing anxiously at the approaching boats as he said:

"It's too bad that our day of pleasurin' should be spoiled by Eliakim, when he hasn't got the least little reason for makin' a row."

"Do as Mr. Rowe wants you to, Uncle Ben, an' there won't be much of anythin' spoiled," Tommy said pleadingly, as he tried to drag the old man toward the shanty. "The three of us can take care of the schooner without tryin' very hard."

"But I'm afraid there'll be a fight, Tommy, an' that's a poor way of celebratin' the launchin' of the 'Sally,'" the old man said mournfully.

"Don't you worry 'bout that, for we'll knock his head off before he gets very far along in his funny business," Tom cried confidently, and this assurance seemed to have the opposite effect from that intended.

"We won't stir up more of a row than can be helped, an' I'm certain you'd rather we showed a little fight than let him do harm to the schooner just when we've got her in sailin' trim," Sam pleaded, and Mr. Rowe added, speaking as if to a child:

"Now do look at it in the right light, Uncle Ben! We're bound to take care of the 'Sally,' else what'll come of your plan for makin' a home here for them what ain't got any?"

In no other way could Mr. Rowe have presented the case to more speedily insure Uncle Ben's obedience. The possibility that Captain Doak might work such mischief as would prevent him from carrying out the scheme he had so long in mind, and which was so well begun, caused the old man to lose sight of everything else, and, as if escaping from some terrible and immediate danger, he ran swiftly toward the shanty with Joey in his arms.

"Now we're got rid of Uncle Ben, I reckon it won't take us long to settle that old heathen's hash, no matter how many heelers he's got with him," Tommy said, in a tone of satisfaction, and looking very much as if the prospect of trouble with the former owner of the "Sally D." pleased him greatly.

Mr. Rowe, however, was not inclined to look upon the situation as affording many possibilities for enjoyment. The fact that Captain Doak had such a large party with him seemed fairly good evidence that he had come to do something more than make threats, and, regardless of the fact that he had spoken so confidently of what he would be able to do in the way of protecting the "family's" property, Reuben understood that he and the two lads could not successfully oppose any determined attack.

Within five minutes after Uncle Ben and Joey had taken refuge in the shanty, it was possible to make out that the second dory had as crew three men, and these with the men in the first boat would make up a force which would be able to carry out any plan agreed upon, however bravely the defenders of the island might battle for their rights.

"That's Eliakim in the leadin' dory," Mr. Rowe said after a keen survey of the approaching craft, "an' unless I'm way out of my reckonin', it's Jim Coulson with him. 'Cordin' to my idee these two are about the most worthless couple that can be found in the Port. It stands to reason they've come to make trouble, an' I'm beginnin' to be afraid we'll have our hands full."

"They'll have to work mighty lively if they get the best of us," Tom said confidently as he searched about for something in the shape of a club that would serve his purpose, and Sam, who was seriously disturbed by the expression of anxiety on Mr. Rowe's face, added doubtfully:

"We can't hold out very long against five men, less Uncle Ben takes it inter his head to lend a hand, an' I'm afraid he'd see 'em wreck the 'Sally' before thinkin' he oughter make a reg'lar fight."

"No, we can't count on him," and Mr. Rowe shook his head sorrowfully, but seeming to recover his courage an instant later, as he added: "Howsomever, we'll make it hot for a spell, no matter how many Eliakim has got with him, an' then if we're downed it won't be our fault."

Tom had found such a weapon as would apparently serve his purpose, and set about procuring something of the same kind for Sam; but Mr. Rowe made no preparations whatever. He stood with his gaze fixed upon the leading boat, as if by such close scrutiny he could determine what the enemy's first move would be, and then walked slowly up the beach on seeing that the dory would take the sand a short distance to the eastward of where the "Sally" rested on the ways as if impatient to be in the water once more.

It was evident that Captain Doak had come for some other purpose than to indulge in empty threats, for he spoke not a word as the little craft drifted shoreward, and when she was within fifty feet of the beach Mr. Rowe cried warningly:

"Don't make the mistake of landin' on this island, Eliakim Doak, or there'll be more trouble come of it than you're lookin' for! You've been cautioned against trespassin', an' tellin' you that Uncle Ben counts on doin' jest as he threatened."

"If I did my duty I'd have you in jail for mutiny!" Captain Doak cried threateningly. "If you mix inter this matter, I'll have a warrant out before you're a day older, Reuben Rowe!"

"Why don't you go ahead an' get your warrants, instead of makin' so much talk about it?" the sailor cried angrily. "I count on mixin' in here long enough to give you the strongest dose you ever got, an' don't you forget it! If you come ashore here I'll see to it that you don't go back in as good shape as you are now." Then in a whisper to Tom, who stood close by his side, "You two lads are to jump on Jim Coulson the minute he puts foot on the sand, without payin' any heed to me. If I can't take care of Eliakim Doak single handed, it'll serve me right to be used up."