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The Launch Boys' Adventures in Northern Waters, a novel by Edward Sylvester Ellis |
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Chapter 10. At Beartown |
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_ CHAPTER X. AT BEARTOWN Alvin Landon had been toiling so long, often in a stooping posture, that he was tired. He sat down on one of the seats and his chum placed himself opposite. "I'm mighty glad," said the Captain, "for a fellow can't do much of this in the dark, and I was bothered a good deal as it was." "It strikes me that you will be running into danger by going down the river to-night." "How?" "There is no moon until late. Suppose the launch should break down when we were well out in Sheepscot Bay, wouldn't we be in a fix?" "Yes, but I hope she is through breaking down for some time to come." "So do I, but why take the risk, when there's no necessity for it?" "We aren't fixed to sleep on board, though we could do it in a pinch, for the weather is mild." "Let's go up to this village or town near by. I am sure we shall get accommodations for the night. Truth to tell, Alvin, I'm as hungry as I was at dinner to-day in Wiscasset." "The plan is a good one, though I don't like to leave the boat by itself till morning. You know what happened the other night." "That won't occur again in a thousand years. Put the flags and other stuff in the cockpit, lock the engine cover, take the switch plug with you, and the boat will be as safe as if she had a regiment of men on guard." "Mike ought to have been back before this," said the Captain, with a touch of impatience. "Unless he has a good excuse I shall demote him, by making you first mate." "It is a dazzling promise you hold before me, but it won't be fair to condemn Mike unheard. Give him a chance." After some hesitation, Alvin acted upon the advice of his comrade. The launch was made as secure as possible, and they sprang ashore, where the gloom among the trees reminded them of that other tramp after taking supper with Uncle Ben Trotwood. There was no reason for going astray and they followed a direct course until they reached the roadway between the wharf and the village of Beartown, alongside the main road running the length of the island of Westport. The moon had not yet risen; in fact it would not be up for several hours, but the sky was clear and studded with stars which shone with dazzling brilliancy. They could plainly see the broad trail into which they turned and walked toward the village. Less than a score of paces were passed when the two caught sight of a figure approaching through the obscurity. The person kept in the middle of the road, and an instant later both recognized him as their comrade. "Hands up!" called the Captain, in his most startling voice. Mike stopped short, but made no motion to obey. "Didn't you hear me?" demanded Alvin fiercely, as he strode forward with the grinning Chester at his elbow. "If ye'll be kind enough to spell out the words I'll think 'em over and let ye know me decision to-morrer," replied the Irish youth, who knew the voice, though the speaker screened himself as much as he could in the shadow at the side of the highway. The parties met and shook hands. "What kept you so long?" asked Chester. "I spint the time in making acquaintances, and before I knowed it, night had descinded. I 'spose there's about two thousand folks in Beartown as they call it, and I know 'em all excipt two or three, the same being out of town." "It is so late," said the Captain, "that we have decided to stay here overnight--that is, if we can get lodgings." "Arrah, now, that's a sinsible remark which I ixpicted ye to make, as Arty Devitt said whin he admitted he was the biggest fool in Cork. But there ain't a hotel in Beartown." "Then we shall have to go back to the boat and either start down the river or bunk in as best we can." "Nothing of the kind; supper is waiting and ye're expicted. The house has only one bed, which av coorse is fur me, while ye two will have to make shift in the adj'ining woodshed. Come on and I'll show ye." "Be sensible for once in your life," said Alvin, "and explain matters." "Isn't that what I'm doing?" asked Mike, as he turned about and the three walked toward the sleepy little town. "I've made frinds wid the postmaster, which is a fine old lady with a swaat darter. She has spread supper for us three, and whin I told her we'd honor her by staying overnight, she was that pleased she danced the Highland Fling and kicked over a barrel of apples. And what do ye think, byes, after we'd talked awhile, we found we was relatives. What have ye to say to that?" "It is impossible. What's her name?" "Mrs. Friestone and her daughter is Nora. It was that name that set me wits to work. Ye see the leddy thinks--that is, after I suggisted the same--that one of her ancistors about the time St. Patrick was driving the snakes out of Ireland was living there, and immigrated to this country and he come over wid the ither sarpints." "St. Patrick died fifteen hundred years ago," said Chester. "Thin I 'spose he must be purty dead by this time, but that isn't aginst the fact of the father of Mrs. Friestone, two or three thousand ginerations back, paddling across the Atlantic and sittling in this part of Maine. I have raison to belave that one of me own ancisters was a second cousin to the owld gintleman and came wid him on the v'yage. The owld lady doesn't dispoot me, but is inclined to belave the same." "But where do we come in?" asked Alvin. "That was me chaif trouble in gitting ye folks straightened out. Av coorse, I made it clear to them that I owned a launch, which the same is called the _Deerfut_, and I had took ye out fur a sail--that I had left ye to thry to run the boat, in order to taich ye the same, and ye had broke down. I said ye were half dacent chaps, and if she would bear in mind that ye hadn't been under me training long, she would be able to git along wid ye. Nora said I must bring ye to the house, and ye should have slaaping accommodations and as much as folks of yer kind oughter ate. I reminded them that I had provided ye with plinty of pocket money and insthructed ye niver to accept favors widout paying for 'em. Thus the way has been opened for ye." "So it would seem, if a tenth part of what you say is true," was the comment of Alvin. The village, which I have thought best to call Beartown, straggles along both sides of the highway which runs the length of Westport island. It has a neat wooden church, a faded school house, which had been closed several weeks, it being vacation time, two stores, a blacksmith and a carpenter shop, but lacks a hotel, no one being enterprising enough to build such a structure with the meagre prospects he would have to face. If now and then some visitor wished to stay overnight in the place it depended upon his success in finding lodgings with one of the citizens. This could not always be done, but it is safe to say that Mike Murphy won the favor of so many with whom he came in contact that a half dozen homes would have been glad to take him in indefinitely. Strolling along the highway, his attention was caught by sight of a modest frame building, standing near the middle of the village with the sign in small letters "Post Office" over the front porch, which was crowded with samples of what were for sale at the store. Entering the open door, he asked in his most suave manner if there was a letter for "Michael Murphy, lately from Tipperary." The thin old lady in spectacles behind the counter, at the front, pulled the half dozen missives from the pigeon hole over which the letter "M" showed and slowly inspected each. She gently shook her head: "It doesn't seem to have arrived; probably it will come in the next mail." Mike's genial face became the picture of disappointment. "That's mighty qu'ar. The Duke promised he would write me two waaks ago from his castle and return the five pounds I loaned him. Ye can't thrust the nobility." "I am sorry," said the sympathetic postmistress, "but I don't see how I can help you. Have patience and all will come right." "Don't think it's yersilf I'm blaming, though onraisoning folks are inclined that way. The matter of a little money doesn't consarn me, but it's the aboose of me confidence." Just then a man came in to inquire for a letter, and the sweet looking old lady was obliged to withdraw her attention from the freckled face before her. During this brief interview a girl not yet out of short dresses stood behind the counter, measuring out some calico for a woman in a scoop shovel-bonnet. The girl's face was as mirthful as Mike's, and her black eyes twinkled with mischief. She heard all that was said, and read the youth like a book. He looked more at her than at her mother, and could not help being pleased with the lively young lady. Never at loss for an excuse in such circumstances, he waited at the front of the store, sighing as if greatly depressed, until the woman customer paid her bill, accepted the roll and walked out. Then Mike, blushing so far as it was possible to do so, moved respectfully toward the smiling attraction. "I lost me wheelbarrer in coming up from me launch; have ye anything of the kind ye would be willing to sell to a poor orphan?" "Will one be all you want?" asked the miss. "We can furnish you with a dozen as well as a single barrow. How much would you like to pay?" Mike was caught. He had taken a comprehensive survey of the display outside the store before entering, and was sure that only the simplest agricultural implements were on sale. Furthermore, he had less than a silver dollar in his pockets. "I'll have to wait to consoolt me partners," he replied, while nature did her best to deepen the blush on his broad countenance. "Ye see it's them that has to do the work fur me, and it's only fair on me side to let them have something to say about the ch'ice of tools. What do ye think yersilf?" "I think you haven't any wish to buy a wheelbarrow, that you haven't the money to pay for it, and I know we haven't one in the store--so I think further that there won't be any sale so far as wheelbarrows are concerned." _ |
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