"I may not go out in her to-day," repliedDory, glancing at the white-caps down the bay.
"You were a fool to buy her," added Pearl.
"Am I a greater fool than you would have been if you had bought her?" asked Dory.
"I know just what she wants to make her all right."
"So do I."
Just then a small steamer was seen coming up the bay. She was laboring heavily in the rough waves, and both of them gave their attention to her. She was evidently in the hands of a skipper who did not know how to manage her. The wind had breezed up within an hour, and she had been caught out in the lake. She was within half a mile of the wharf; but Pearl Hawlinshed declared that she would go to the bottom before she reached the pier.
He was quite excited about the steamer, and left the Goldwing to walk down to the end of the wharf, where he could get a better view of the struggling craft. Dory was glad to see him move off. He was as glad to get rid of him as Sindbad was of the Old Man of the Sea. He did not like Pearl: in fact, from what he knew of him, he hated him.
Dory had already hoisted his reefed mainsail. It was shaking and pounding with tremendous energy, as he sat in the standing-room, waiting to decide whether or not he should put out into the lake. But he wanted to get rid of Pearl, and he hoped he should never see him again. While his disagreeable companion was walking down the wharf, he cast off the bow line which held the Goldwing to the pier, and hoisted the jib.
The sails caught the breeze, and the Goldwing darted off from the wharf as though she had been shot from a gun; but she did not exhibit any tendency to go over under her present sail. He ran her outside of the breakwater; and, when he had the boat in a sheltered place, he let go the anchor.
He had got rid of Pearl Hawlinshed, and he was entirely satisfied with himself on this account. He had the Goldwing by himself now, and he immediately proceeded to make another examination of the boat and her furnishings. He got at the ballast, and arranged it to his mind. The fault in the rig he could not correct, but he thought he could overcome the difficulty in this direction in carrying sail.
"Hallo, Dory Dornwood!"
It was the voice of Corny Minkfield; and it came from the little steamer, which had now passed out of danger under the breakwater.
Pearl Hawlinshed found that his prediction in regard to the little steamer was not verified. She did not go to the bottom in spite of her bad management. It was no fault of her skipper that she did not, for he had certainly done his best to sink her. Dory recognized her as a boat that had been kept for all sorts of uses at Burlington.
If Pearl was not satisfied with what had passed between him and the new skipper of the Goldwing, it was too late to do any thing about it now. The boat was off, and he was confident that her skipper had left the wharf to avoid him; for why should he prefer to lie at anchor at the breakwater when her former moorings were so much more convenient?
Pearl Hawlinshed had been a wayward boy. He had worked on his father's farm; he hadtended bar at a saloon; he had worked on the steamers on the lake; and now he evidently desired to try his hand at boating. If the Goldwing was worth any thing, she was certainly worth forty dollars; and it is difficult to see why he limited himself to this sum. Perhaps he had no money to buy her, since he had failed to relieve his father of the amount in his possession.
The Goldwing was gone, and there was nothing to keep him on the wharf. He walked up to the Witherill House, where his father had stopped the night before. He was well acquainted there, and he immediately found himself in demand as soon as he entered the office. There appeared to be a considerable excitement about the house.
"You are just the man I want to see, Pearl Hawlinshed," said the landlord, as he entered the office.
"Well, what is wanted of me?" asked Pearl.
"Where has your father gone, Pearl?" asked the landlord, as though he felt a great interest in the question.
"That is more than I know," replied Pearl.
"But he took the boat going south this morning. Don't you know where he has gone?"
"He is going into a lumber speculation in Lawrence County: that's all I know about it. He is going to lose all his money if he can; and I reckon he can," replied Pearl roughly.
"Do you know who the boy was that was with him last night, Pearl? He was a young fellow about fourteen years old. He came into the house with your father, and went up-stairs with him."
"I don't know who he is. What's the matter?" asked the graceless son, wishing to know more before he committed himself.
"A man was robbed of a hundred and fifty dollars in the house last night. He had the room next to your father; and the boy was seen in the hall about ten o'clock in the evening. We thought he might know something about the money," replied the landlord.
"I have no doubt he knows all about it," added Pearl, delighted to connect the purchaser of the Goldwing with a crooked transaction; for he had no doubt that the boy who was with his father had obtained the money with which he bought the boat by stealing it. "This explains the whole matter. It is all as clear as any thing can be now."
"What is clear, Pearl?" asked the landlord.
"The boy who was with my father last night has just purchased the Goldwing, poor Lapham's boat; and very likely she will drown the boy before noon, as she did Lapham."
"What has all this to do with the robbery? I would rather have given a hundred and fifty dollars than have the thing happen in my house. What has the boat to do with the money lost, Pearl?"
"Why, the boy paid cash for the boat; planked it right down on the nail the moment the boat was knocked off to him," answered Pearl, chuckling his satisfaction at finding Dory in such a scrape.
"Paid cash for the boat, did he? But who is the boy? Does he belong in Plattsburgh?" asked the landlord, beginning to see the relation of the boat to the money.
"The boy says his name is Theodore Dornwood, and that he lives in Burlington."
"Dornwood!" exclaimed the landlord. "That was the name of the pilot that wrecked the Au Sable last night."
"Wrecked the Au Sable?" repeated Pearl curiously.
"Haven't you heard the news?"
"I haven't heard any such news as that. Is she really wrecked? I used to work on that boat," added Pearl, opening his eyes very wide.
"Where have you been all the morning? It has got to be an old story by this time. The Au Sable was run on shore, and sunk. No one was lost; but several were injured,—how many, I don't know."
"But how came she ashore? It wasn't even foggy last night," said Pearl.
"That's the mystery. The boat ran on to a point of rocks. The report thinks the pilot in charge was trying to run the boat over the land. His name was Dornwood; and he must have been either drunk or asleep, or both. But all this is neither here nor there. What about this boy? He may be the son of this pilot for aught we know."
"I don't know any Dornwood. He was not a pilot in her when I was on the Au Sable."
"How do you know that the boy who was with your father bought the Goldwing, Pearl?" inquired the landlord, who had told his news and lost his interest in it till another uninformed personcame along. "I don't want to accuse any person of robbing my house without the means of proving the charge."
"Oh, it's all straight, you may depend upon it!" replied Pearl. "I thought the boy looked like a young rascal, and now I know that he stole the money. Of course it is no sale, so far as the boat is concerned. How is that?" asked Pearl, who seemed to realize for the first time, that, if the money paid for the Goldwing was stolen, it would have to be returned to the rightful owner.
"I should say it would be no trade under the circumstances. But you don't tell me how you know it was this boy that was with your father last night in my house," said the landlord impatiently.
"I don't know that he was in your house with my father. He was with my father last night, for he told me so. He brought me a letter from my father this morning. When we were bidding on the Goldwing, I found it was the same boy. That's how I know it; and there is no mistake about it," added Pearl.
"It looks as though there might be something in it. At any rate we will have the thing lookedinto. Where is the boy now? What has become of him?"
"The last I saw of him he was in the Goldwing, at anchor off the breakwater, on the outside. I have no doubt he is going to Burlington in the boat as soon as the weather is fit for him to sail."
"Perhaps he has gone by this time," suggested the landlord.
"I don't believe he has. It is blowing heavy out on the lake; and the boy knows what sort of a boat the Goldwing is, for I warned him that she would drown him."
"There seems to be no doubt that the boy is the same one that went to your father's room last night, though that don't prove that he robbed the room of one of my guests. I should like to see the boy, and have him explain what he has been about," added the landlord.
"We will have him arrested if he can't tell a straight story," said Pearl. "If you authorize me to do it, I will bring the boy up here; but I may have to get a steamer to chase him, and there will be some expense about it."
"I will pay any reasonable expense," repliedthe landlord. "You are not an officer, and of course you can't arrest him."
"But I will bring him up here, whether I am an officer or not," continued Pearl. "I am as much interested in getting him back as you are."
"How is that?"
"I wanted to buy the Goldwing; and I expected to get her for about twenty dollars, though her sails cost more than that. The young rascal tricked me out of her. If he stole the money, it is no trade, and the boat will have to be put up again."
The landlord was satisfied that Pearl would bring the boy to the hotel if it were possible. Pearl was very sure that he would do it. Without knowing any thing particular about the Burlington boy, he had taken an intense dislike to him; but he had no suspicion that he was the person who had interfered with his operations in the woods the night before. He hastened down to the wharf, where he found the little steamer that he had seen struggling with the big waves in the lower bay.
"You have had a rough time of it," said Pearl to a man he found on the deck of the boat.
"Rather rough; but we came through all right," replied the man.
"What boat is this?" inquired the thief-taker, as he already regarded himself.
"This is the Missisquoi. A man in Plattsburgh bought her, and I came to fetch her over; but he won't be here till to-morrow night," replied the temporary skipper. "I fetched over a lot of boys from Burlington, and they made things lively on the way."
"Do you know a boy in Burlington by the name of Theodore Dornwood?" asked Pearl.
"Well, I guess I do. Everybody that has any thing to do with boats in Burlington knows all about him. He is a little wild, but he is as smart as a steel trap," replied Captain Vesey, as he was called by courtesy.
"Is he an honest boy?" asked Pearl, as though that were a matter of the utmost consequence to him.
"I guess he is. He is worth two of his father, who was the pilot on duty on board of the Au Sable last night, and tried to take the boat across a p'int of land. He didn't make out, and I guess it will be a bad job for him."
"Where are the boys you brought over?" inquired Pearl, looking about the boat for them.
"You see, they came over here on a lark, and will have to get back the best way they can. We found Dory in a sailboat, anchored off the breakwater. The boys wanted me to put them aboard of her, and I did. Dory says he is going to sail the boat to Burlington, and the rest of the boys are going with him. They are the wildest set of boys on the lake."
"I suppose you don't object to earning five dollars with this boat before you deliver her to her owner?" suggested Pearl in an indifferent sort of way.
"I guess not," said Captain Vesey, with a broad grin on his face. "I never object to making five dollars, or one dollar, for that matter."
"I want to see Dory Dornwood on some particular business; and, if you will put me on board of his boat, I will give you five dollars," said Pearl in an insinuating tone.
Captain Vesey was ready to do it.
Pearl Hawlinshed had not looked to see if the Goldwing was where he had last seen her, outside of the breakwater. The water was unusually low on the lake; and, though he saw the topmasts of several boats beyond the breakwater, he was unable to determine whether or not any of them belonged to the Goldwing. Captain Vesey had seen no boat go out, and Pearl concluded that she was still at anchor.
Pearl made his trade with the acting skipper of the little steamer, which was hardly more than a steam-launch. Mr. Button the engineer, who was to remain in the employ of the new owner, was wiping the water off the machinery. He was called, and informed of the arrangement with Pearl. To the astonishment of both, he refused to move the Missisquoi from the wharf.
"I reckon the boat is in my care until she is delivered to the new owner," argued Captain Vesey.
"It don't make any difference to me whose care she is in. I won't go out with a man who don't know any more about handling a boat than you do, Captain Vesey," replied Mr. Button warmly. "It was only by a miracle that we got over here at all. I expected to go to the bottom every minute of the time until we got inside of the breakwater."
"I reckon I know how to handle a steamboat as well as the next man," returned Captain Vesey indignantly.
"That depends upon how much the next man knows about a tug-boat. If the next man don't know any more about it than you do, I don't want to run the engine for him."
Pearl could not help being on the engineer's side of the controversy. He and Dory had agreed that the captain of the Missisquoi did not understand his business. But Pearl Hawlinshed believed that he knew all about a steamer, and all about the lake. He considered himself competent to command one of the large steamers.
"I am going with you, Mr. Button, and it will be five dollars in your pocket, as well as the captain's," interposed Pearl, who was disposed to be liberal with the landlord's money.
"My life is worth something to me; or at any rate it is to my family," replied Mr. Button doubtfully. "Do you know about handling such a boat as this?"
"I know all about it: I used to sail in the Au Sable," replied Pearl confidently.
Mr. Button was doubtless a good engineer, but he was not a very shrewd man. If he had been, he would have asked in what capacity the applicant for the use of the Missisquoi served on board of the Au Sable. Possibly Pearl would have evaded the question, or lied about the matter, for he had simply been a waiter in the cabin for a few weeks. But Pearl thought he knew all about a steamer, and all about the navigation of the lake.
"If you are a steamboat man I have no objection to taking the boat out," added the engineer. "It is a very rough day on the lake, and one has to know something about handling a boat in such big waves."
"But I am the captain of this boat, and Ireckon I don't want any boss over me," interposed Captain Vesey at this point.
"We shall have no trouble," added Pearl, as he walked aft with the captain. "I shall not meddle with your management of the boat. I only said what I did to quiet the engineer."
But the boat had to take in a supply of fuel, for which Pearl promised to pay out of the landlord's pocket. She could not leave for a couple of hours. Pearl wanted to go back to the hotel, and attend to some matters in connection with his mission which he had forgotten.
"I am to pay you five dollars, and the engineer five dollars, when you put me on board of the Goldwing," said Pearl, as he was about to leave the boat. "Is that the trade?"
"That's it," replied the engineer; and so answered the captain.
Pearl walked up the pier, and then went down the railroad till he could see outside of the breakwater. He found the Goldwing lay at anchor in the place she had chosen at first. Ten dollars would be a good sum to pay if the Missisquoi was obliged to take him only out to the breakwater. But, the sooner he brought Dory on shore, thesooner the Goldwing would be put up at auction again.
He walked to the Witherill House, and informed the landlord of what he had done, and declared that the boy who had stolen the money should be handed over to him in a couple of hours. The hotel-keeper did not object to the expense; but he wished his representative to be careful how he managed the business, for it was by no means certain that the boy had taken the money.
"I am as certain of it as I am of my own existence," replied Pearl warmly. "I have found out something about the boy since I was here. He has the reputation of being wild, and no one sent him over here to buy a boat. And a fellow like him don't have forty or fifty dollars to invest in boats."
"All that may be; but you can be careful just as well as not," added the landlord.
"He is nothing but a young cub, and has no friends, so that nothing will come of it if he shouldn't happen to be the thief."
"If he has no one to defend him, so much the more reason why he should be fairly dealt with,"replied the hotel-keeper,—a sentiment with which Pearl Hawlinshed had no sympathy. "I have seen Moody since you went out, and he says a man was looking into the keyhole of the room next to his about ten o'clock last evening. That was your father's room. Have you any idea who that man was, Hawlinshed?"
"I haven't the least idea in the world," answered Pearl; and possibly the landlord did not notice his confusion when he replied, "Very likely it was this same boy."
"It wasn't a boy, but a man: I asked Moody particularly about this matter."
"I don't know any thing about the matter at all," protested Pearl. "If the man that lost the money saw any thing of this kind, why didn't he tell of it before?"
"I asked him this question, and he says he did not think of it before. The fact of it is, that Moody had been drinking, though he sticks to it that he wasn't drunk. He went into his room at about ten o'clock, and put the money into his trunk, for he was afraid he might lose it. He saw the man looking in at the keyhole of your father's room when he went into his own to putthe money in a safe place. He heard voices in the next room when he opened his trunk. The boy was with your father at that time very likely."
"If the man had been drinking, it is not probable that he knows much about the boy or the man," added Pearl.
"He had not got very tipsy, or he would not have thought to look out for his money. But bring the boy up, if you can get him without violence or outrage. If he explains where he got the money to buy the boat, that is the end of the matter so far as he is concerned. In my opinion the man who was looking in at the keyhole of your father's room is more likely to be the thief than the boy."
"Where did the boy get forty-two dollars to pay for the boat, then?" demanded Pearl.
"I give it up," laughed the landlord. "But we are likely to know something more about the case before dinner-time. I called in Peppers, who used to be a detective in New York City; and he is at work on the case now."
"What did you do that for?" demanded Pearl, who did not seem to relish the information."You set me at work on the case; and now you have called in another person to attend to it, after I have engaged a steamer."
"All I asked you to do was to bring the boy in to be questioned. Peppers won't interfere with any thing that you may do," replied the landlord, not a little surprised at the objection of Pearl.
"What is Peppers doing?" asked Pearl uneasily.
"I don't know what he is doing: at least, I don't know much about it, and he told me not to tell what I did know."
"But you can tell me, for I am at work on the case," said Pearl in a coaxing tone.
"No: I won't tell you any thing. You won't interfere with each other, and it is best for each of you to work on his own hook," replied the hotel-keeper, as he turned to attend to a guest who wished to speak to him.
Pearl saw that it was useless to press the matter any farther; and he was evidently very much disturbed about the turn the investigation had taken during his absence. He was particularly anxious to know what the detective was about, but hewas unable to obtain any information from any person. He returned to the steamboat wharf. When he came in sight of the breakwater, he was not a little startled to see the Goldwing dart out from behind the structure, with only a small jib and a reefed mainsail.
He was startled; because not more than an hour had elapsed since he left the Missisquoi, and he expected it would be another hour before she would be ready to go in pursuit of the Goldwing. The latter could sail like the wind if she would only keep right side up, and she would get a long start of the steamer. Besides, Pearl did not like the looks of the big waves on the lake any better than Mr. Button had; and he was not altogether sure that he could manage her any better than Captain Vesey had done.
The Goldwing was running from the end of the breakwater over towards the main shore, and it was possible that Dory intended to make a landing at Plattsburgh. But it was not more than a quarter of a mile from the breakwater to the shore, and he could soon tell what she intended to do. He hastened down the railroad to settle this point. In the furious breeze that was blowing,the Goldwing seemed to leap over the water. If she intended to go up to the wharf from which she had started, she would have to tack in a moment.
Pearl ran with all his might; for it occurred to him that if he could induce Dory to come on shore and go up to the hotel with him, he might save the ten dollars he had agreed to give the captain and engineer, and contrive some way to have it stick in his own pocket. The Goldwing ran within a hundred feet of the shore, and Pearl got behind a car on a side track to ascertain what she intended to do.
Gradually her main sheet was let off, and the Goldwing was headed to the southward. This settled the matter. The boat was not going back to the wharf. Her skipper had evidently run her over in that direction in order to get her under the lee of the shore, where she would not get the full force of the wind.
"Hallo! on board of the Goldwing!" shouted Pearl, as he ran to the water's edge, yelling as loud as he could.
"On shore!" replied Dory, "what do you want?"
"You are wanted at the hotel," replied Pearl.
Dory discovered by this time who it was that hailed him; and he took no further notice of Pearl, who hastened to the wharf.
"What in the world are you doing over here, fellows?" asked Dory Dornwood, as the four passengers of the Missisquoi tumbled in over the stern of the Goldwing.
"And what under the breezes of Lake Champlain are you doing in this boat?" shouted Thad Glovering, who was the first to get a footing in the standing-room of the Goldwing.
"What boat is it?" asked Nat Long in a blustering manner.
"What are you going to do with her, Dory?" demanded Dick Short.
"Can't you take us over to Burlington in her?" queried Corny Minkfield.
"How many questions do you think I can answer at once, fellows?" replied Dory. "I am going over to Burlington as soon as the weather is fit; and you can go with me if you like."
"All right, Dory! Hurrah for Dory Dornwood! You are all right, and so are we: only we are half starved, for we haven't had any breakfast this morning," said Thad Glovering.
It must be confessed that the party that arrived in the Missisquoi were not very promising-looking boys. They had a wild, harum-scarum appearance and manner, which fully justified the description Captain Vesey had given of them. In a word, they were evidently wild boys; and in this respect they did not differ much from Dory himself.
They are the boat-builders whose exploits and achievements are to be recorded, and they may as well be introduced at this as at any other time. Thad Glovering was an orphan, who lived with his uncle. As this relative had several children of his own, the added one was a burden to him, for he had but small wages. Thad declared that he was willing to work; but up to this time nothing had been found for him to do. The worst that could be said of him was that he was wild.
"THE FOUR PASSENGERS TUMBLED IN OVER THE STERN OF THE GOLDWING.""THE FOUR PASSENGERS TUMBLED IN OVER THE STERN OF THE GOLDWING." PAGE87.
Nat Long's father was a deck-hand on a steamer; and, as he was away most of the time, Nat was permitted to have his own way. His mother was dead; and his older sister, who had the care of the family, found herself unable to control him. He was not a confirmed bad boy, and had worked for a year in one place, and done very well. A change in the business had thrown him out of work, and he had been unable to find another situation. Idleness led him into mischief; and, without some kind of control, it was only a question of time when he got into the hands of the law for some crime.
Dick Short and Corny Minkfield were the sons of widows, both of whom had some property. Their mothers were able to support them without work; but work was the one thing they needed, whether it was with the head or the hands.
These five boys lived near together, and they had been cronies from their earliest school-days. Two of them were usually well dressed; and the others were somewhat ragged, and considerably patched, showing the efforts of their protectors to keep them decent. They had all been to school up to the present time, and now it was vacation; and the next thing to be decided by theirfriends was what should be done with them. Dick and Corny were to go to the high school; but the others must go to work, and earn their own living,—do something for the support of their parents.
Dory had gone to work before the school closed for the summer, and all the boys talked as though they intended to do something. But they did not feel like going to work in vacation time. They had always had great larks on the lake when school did not keep, and they were not disposed to dispense with the good time the present year.
It could not be said that one of these boys was really bad. But they kept all kinds of company; and, in the absence of any strong controlling force, they were in great danger of becoming "hard boys." Sometimes they assisted about the steamers and other vessels; and, by making themselves useful, they obtained the privilege of sailing on the lake. Their associations were not always of the best character. They were all "smart boys;" and wise and steady people who knew them wished they might be put to some useful labor, or be subjected to some salutarycontrol. Mrs. Short and Mrs. Minkfield had both been warned of the peril of their sons; and both had considered the means of redeeming them from the bad company into which their habits threw them. But they had not done any thing beyond reasoning with the boys, who always promised to mend their ways.
Assisted by his four cronies, Dory Dornwood had built a sort of bateau, a flat-bottomed craft, in which they used to row about the lake near the shore. It was a rude boat; for the young boat-builders had few tools, and very inferior lumber for the construction of the bateau. But it would carry them all, and Dory was the captain of the craft. She was called the Colchester; and the boys formed a club for aquatic sports, to which they gave the name of the boat.
Doubtless the Colchester Club gave a great deal of satisfaction to its members. Unfortunately the Colchester broke adrift in a September squall, and went to pieces on Colchester Reef, as reported by the light-keeper. No other boat could be obtained; but the members all said that as soon as they got to work they should give a portion of their earnings for the purchase of asuitable craft for the association. Up to this time they had not gone to work, and the successor of the Colchester did not appear.
Dory proceeded to answer the questions of his fellow-members of the Colchester Club. The boat in which they found him belonged to him; and this was the most astounding statement he made in the course of the interview. They opened their eyes, and stared at Captain Dory, as they called him, in silent wonder. Then they looked the boat over with renewed interest, and seemed to be unable to believe the statement of their companion.
"The Colchester Club shall have the use of her when I am on board," added Dory magnanimously.
"That's handsome; and we shall have the biggest kind of times," added Thad Glovering. "I'll tell you what we'll do, fellows. We will change the name of the club, and call it after this boat. What is her name, Dory?"
"You will find it on the stern, and also on the bowsprit," replied the skipper of the Goldwing. "It isn't a bad name either."
Two of the members of the club looked overthe stern, and two others rushed to the bow. The name was of the utmost consequence, and Dory thought it was better for them to read it for themselves than for him to tell it. Besides, there was a good deal of style in the way the name was put on in the three places.
"Goldwing!" shouted Corny Minkfield, who was the first to read the name on the stern. "And there is a gold wing under it."
"Goldwing!" repeated Dick Short, as he read the name on the heel of the bowsprit. "And there is a gold wing here too."
"Isn't that a splendid name for a boat! Goldwing!" exclaimed Nat Long. "I don't think you could find any thing better than that if you should study for a month."
"Or any thing better for a club," added Thad Glovering. "The Goldwing Club! How do you think that sounds, fellows?"
"I don't believe any thing could sound any better," added Dick Short. "But we haven't looked the boat over yet."
All hands proceeded to attend to this duty at once. The Colchester had been a rough, flat-bottomed craft, with neither shape nor comelinessabout her. Whatever first-class sailboats the members of the club had seen had been only at a distance; and consequently their ideal of beauty, symmetry, comfort, and convenience in a boat was not very high. The Goldwing was perfection itself to them, though it might not have been to more experienced observers. They were ecstatic in their praises of the Goldwing, and did not believe there was a finer sailboat on the lake than she was.
"You don't mean to say that you own this craft, Dory Dornwood!" said Thad when the party had exhausted their vocabulary of fine words applicable to a beautiful sailboat.
"I have said it once, and I will say it again if it will do any good," replied Dory. "The Goldwing is mine, and she don't belong to anybody else. You can go the last cent you've got on that."
"Get out, Dory!" exclaimed Dick Short, punching the skipper in the ribs. "You are selling us too cheap, Dory."
"I'm not selling you at all!" protested Dory. "I wouldn't take twenty-five cents apiece for you, though that would make a dollar."
"You can't expect us to believe that you own such a magnificent boat as this, Dory, unless you tell us where you got her," said Corny Minkfield very seriously.
"I can expect it, and I do expect it," added Dory, taking the auctioneer's receipt from his pocket. "I shall prove to you that she is mine, and without saying another word."
Dory handed the receipt to Corny, and said nothing more. The sceptic read the paper out loud, and of course that settled the question. There was no room for a doubt after the reading of the receipt.
"Forty-two dollars!" exclaimed Corny, as he handed the receipt back to the skipper. "Judging by the cost of the Letitia, she ought to be worth four or five hundred dollars."
"Forty-two dollars is nothing for a boat like this," added Dick Short, whose mother was worth money, and therefore he had less respect for forty-two dollars than most of the other members.
"But where did you get the forty-two dollars?" asked Thad, who had hardly ever possessed even half a dime at one time.
"Haven't I proved that the Goldwing is mine?"demanded Dory rather warmly; for he did not want his fellow-members of the Goldwing Club skirmishing about in the region of the great secret of his lifetime. "All I have to say about it is, that I came honestly by the money, and I don't want any more questions asked."
Dory Dornwood, though he was rather wild, scorned to invent a lie to explain where the money came from, as perhaps some of his companions might have done under similar circumstances.
The other members of the Goldwing Club looked at one another; and Nat Long winked at Corny Minkfield, as much as to say "There is a cat in the meal somewhere." After the imperative warning from the skipper that nothing more was to be said about the forty-two dollars, no more questions were asked; but it was evident that the members all kept up a tremendous thinking on the subject. But even this matter became stale in a few minutes in the excitement of the hour.
"Forty-two dollars is dirt cheap for a boat like the Goldwing," said Dory, breaking the silence. "I have no doubt she cost four or five hundreddollars; but I ought to tell you that she has a bad name."
"A bad name! The Goldwing?" exclaimed Thad; and all of the party seemed to think it quite impossible that such a splendid boat as the Goldwing could have any thing but a first-class reputation.
"She drowned the man that owned her. She upset, and then went to the bottom. Now, if any of you want to go on shore, you can."
The members of the Goldwing Club looked aghast at one another.
"Is the Goldwing in the habit of upsetting? Does she make a regular thing of it?" asked Thad Glovering.
"I have heard of her doing it twice before; though I believe she never drowned any one but her owner," replied Dory candidly and seriously. "But I don't want any fellow to sail in her that don't want to."
"We can stand it as well as you can, Dory," added Corny Minkfield. "I suppose she would drown you as easily as she would any of the rest of us."
"There is nothing to make any of us stand it if we don't want to," continued Dory. "I have told you the worst of it, and there isn't any law to make any of you sail in the Goldwing."
"But we want to sail in her; and this is the Goldwing Club now. But we don't want to bedrowned," said Thad. "I think my uncle would like to get rid of me, but I don't believe he would want to have me drowned."
"I don't want to be drowned any more than you do, and I know my mother wouldn't want any such thing to happen to me. Of course I wouldn't go out in the Goldwing if I thought she was going to spill me into the lake," added Dory. "I have told you the worst of it, and now you can go ashore at Plattsburgh if you want to."
"I am willing to take my chances if you are, Dory," replied Thad with some hesitation. "It is blowing a young hurricane to-day, and you said you should not go till the weather was fit."
"I am not going to drown myself or you either, if I can help it, fellows," Dory proceeded. "I heard about the Goldwing the last time I was up here. I asked all about the drowning of the man that owned her, and a boatman who saw the whole of it told me all about it."
"How long ago was it that the man was drowned?" asked Nat Long.
"It was about three weeks ago. The boat lay on the bottom a week before they raised her," replied Dory.
"Was it blowing hard when he was drowned?" inquired Corny.
"No: it was just a good sailing-breeze. I think I know what the matter was with the boat. I believe I can make her all right, if I have not already done it; for I have been at work on her this morning."
"What was the trouble with her?" asked Thad, who considered the skipper competent to put any thing to rights about a boat.
"She was ballasted so that she carried a lee helm," answered Dory, as solemnly as though he settled the fate of a nation by his words.
"Carried a lee helm!" exclaimed Dick Short. "Is that what the matter was?"
"Carried a lee helm!" repeated Thad. "That was bad!"
"Carried a lee helm! If it was bad for her, she ought to have left her lee helm on shore."
"What did she carry it for?" asked Nat Long.
"She carried it because she couldn't leave it behind," replied Dory. "It is a bad habit, such as some men carry with them through life, for the reason that they can't get rid of it."
"I say, Dory, what is a lee helm?" asked Thad. "You know that we don't know any thing more about sailing a boat than we do about making a watch."
"You used to sail Mr. Jones's boat: but we never went with you then, Dory; and we never had any chance to learn how to sail a boat," added Corny. "I have no more idea what a lee helm is than I have what the man in the moon had for dinner to-day."
"That's what's the matter with all of us," added Thad, laughing.
"I didn't mean to bother you, fellows; but that is just what ailed the Goldwing, and she had it bad. But any boat would have behaved in the same way if she was not properly trimmed. I don't think Mr. Lapham—that's the man that owned the Goldwing, and was drowned; I couldn't think of his name before—understood a boat very well. Look here, fellows!"
Dory Dornwood pointed to a mast-hole in the deck, which had been stopped. The foremast had been moved nearly two feet aft of the place where it had been stepped by the builder.
"The boatman told me that Mr. Lapham hadchanged the place of the foremast, so that he could make room for a locker in the head. If she had a bigger jib, it would be all right. The ballast was badly stowed, and that is what made her carry a lee helm."
"Now we know all about what did it, but we don't know what a lee helm is," added Thad, laughing. "I wish you would tell us what the thing is before you say any thing else."
"A boat ought to carry a weather helm, though not too much of it," replied Dory, knitting his brow as though he was struggling with a big idea, though he was only thinking how he should make his companions understand him.
The other members of the Goldwing Club could pull an oar or handle a paddle; and that was really all they knew about boating, though they were very ambitious to learn.
"I believe that. A boat ought to carry a weather helm. I think the legislature ought to make a law that a boat should carry a weather helm, and make it a state-prison offence to carry a lee helm, which is very bad," said Corny Minkfield.
"If you are going to do all the talking, I haven't any thing more to say," replied Dory with dignity.
"Don't get mad, Dory. We don't know what a weather helm is any better than we do what a lee helm is," added Corny, as an apology for the interruption.
"I was going to tell you what a weather helm is; for, when you know what one is, you will understand the other: but you keep putting your oars in, fellows, so that I don't get a chance."
"We won't say another word until we know what a weather helm is, and what a lee helm is," said Thad. "Dry up, fellows! not another word."
"A boat ought to carry a weather helm," Dory began again; and then he paused to give his companions a chance to interrupt him.
Corny was just going to remind him that he had said this before, when Thad put his finger on his lips, and the remark was suppressed. Dory looked at them all, and found that they intended to "give him the floor;" and then he proceeded with his explanation.
"The wind don't always blow just the same," Dory proceeded; and Corny could hardly help making a comment on this sage remark. "I don't mean on different days, but within the same hour. In other words, the wind don't comesteady. To-day it comes down in heavy flaws. You can see the effect of the puffs on the top of the water. A vessel keeps tipping a little in almost any breeze."
The members of the Goldwing Club nodded all around to indicate that they understood the matter so far.
"When a flaw or puff comes," Dory continued, "it changes the course of the boat. The helm has to be shifted to meet this change. Almost always the tiller has to be carried to the weather side of the boat. Do you know which the weather side of the boat is, fellows?" asked the expounder of nautical matters.
"It is the side the weather is on, of course," replied Corny.
"It is the side from which the wind comes," added Thad, who thought it was not quite fair to make fun of the remarks of the skipper when he was doing his best to have them understand the difficulty with the Goldwing.
"And what do you call the other side?" asked Dory.
"The lee side, I think," answered Thad.
"Right, Thad; and Corny was not so far outof the way as he meant to be, for to a sailor the wind is about all there is of the weather. When a flaw comes, and you have to carry the tiller to the weather side of the boat to keep her on her course, that is a weather helm," Dory proceeded.
"I see it!" exclaimed Nat Long, as though he had made a great discovery.
"I don't believe you do, Nat," interposed the skipper. "Suppose you don't carry the tiller to the weather side, what will happen then?"
"I don't know that any thing will happen," answered Nat, rather abashed at his own ignorance.
"That's the point of all that has been said," added Dory.
"Well, what will happen? Will she tip over?" asked Nat.
"That is the very thing she won't do; and that's the reason why a boat ought to carry a weather helm, so that she won't tip over if the helmsman don't happen to have his eyes wide open tight. If you don't put the helm to the weather side, the head of the boat will come up to the wind. As she comes up into the wind, it spills the sail."
"Spills the sail!" exclaimed Corny, who could hold in no longer. "I have heard of spilling the milk, but not of spilling a sail."
"It means to spill the wind out of the sail," added Dory. "In other words, it takes the wind out of the sail, and it don't press against the sail any longer. And, if the wind don't press against the sail, of course it won't tip the boat over."
"That's plain enough. I understand that first-rate," said Thad. "If a puff brings the boat up into the wind, then the wind don't bear hard on the sail, and it won't upset the boat."
"Now let us see how it works when a boat carries a lee helm. Instead of coming up into the wind when a flaw strikes the sail, some boats go the other way. The flaw crowds them off from the wind. The more she falls off, the harder the wind presses against the sail. If the puff throws the head of the boat far enough from the wind, it will blow square against it; and, if there is enough of it, it will upset any boat. Then, if you have to put the helm away from the wind in order to keep the course, that's a lee helm; and it's a dangerous thing in any boat, though it can generally be easily corrected if the skipper understands the matter."
"I see it," said Thad. "I suppose the owner of this boat did not understand it."
"They say he was obstinate about it, and would not take the advice of those who did understand the matter," added Dory. "I have shifted the ballast; and I think the Goldwing will work all right now, though I wish the foremast was in the old hole."
The members of the club declared that they understood the matter perfectly. They were willing to return to Burlington in the Goldwing if it could be shown that she carried a weather helm. When the skipper had finished his explanation, he went forward, and took another look at the hole which had been stopped. He found a shingling hatchet in the cuddy, and with this he attempted to drive out the filling of the mast-hole. After a deal of pounding, he succeeded in the attempt.
He lost no time in demolishing the locker in the head which Mr. Lapham had fitted there. For an hour he worked very diligently, assisted by all the other members of the club; and the foremast was transferred to the hole the builder had intended it should occupy. The stays were adjusted again with the greatest care on the part ofthe skipper, and made strong enough for the heavy weather that prevailed on the lake.
"Isn't there any thing to eat on board, Dory?" asked Thad. "We are almost starved."
There was not a morsel of food on board, but Dory said he would go over to the town if he could.
Of course Dory Dornwood had no suspicion of what had transpired on shore since he departed in the Goldwing. The hunger of the other members of the club reminded him that he might make a long passage to Burlington, or that he might be compelled to lie at anchor for a whole day before it was safe to cross the lake in the present state of the weather. He might be hungry himself as well as his companions, and he had not thought to lay in a stock of provisions for the voyage.
For this reason he was all the more willing to land at Plattsburgh. He hoisted the reefed mainsail again, and directed a couple of the party to get up the anchor. The Goldwing darted off at a furious rate, as she had before, when the fresh breeze filled her sails. She took the wind on her quarter at first; but Dory soon braced her up asshe rounded the southerly beacon at the end of the breakwater, and headed the boat for the main shore.
"How does she work now, Dory?" asked Thad when the boat was on her course. "Does she carry a lee helm?"
"Not at all. It takes all my strength to keep her from luffing up," replied the skipper.
"There's another new word," added Corny Minkfield. "What in the world does 'luffing up' mean?"
"'To luff' is to come into the wind. I mean by that, to turn the head of the boat in the direction from which the wind comes," replied Dory. "But what she does under her present sail don't settle the question. I took the bonnet off the jib before I left the wharf this morning."
"The bonnet!" shouted Corny. "Does the boat wear a bonnet?"
"Of course she does. You never made the mistake of putting a boat in the masculine gender. You always say 'she' in speaking of a boat; and of course she wears a bonnet when she goes out."
"But when the weather is bad you take the bonnet off; and that is not the way the ladies do," suggested Thad.
"In rough weather the bonnet makes it all the rougher," added Dory. "The bonnet is a continuation of the jib, laced to the lower part of the sail. Taking off the bonnet amounts to the same thing as reefing the sail."
"Reefing the sail is taking in a part of the sheet by tying it up in a fold," said Nat Long, looking very wise.
"Not much!" answered the skipper.
"That's what my father told me; and he is a deck-hand on board of the Champlain," persisted Nat.
"I don't believe he said any thing of the kind, Nat. Taking up a part of the sheet by tying it into a fold would be a queer operation. Do you run away with the idea that the jib is a sheet?"
"I don't run away with the idea; but of course a sail is a sheet."
"Not at all. This is a sheet," answered Dory, raising the main sheet, the end of which he held in his left hand, while he steered with his right.
"How can that be a sheet when it is a rope?" demanded Nat incredulously.
"You are thinking of the sheets between which you sleep. In a boat all sheets are ropes. Thisis the main sheet, because it is fastened to the main boom,—the stick at the lower part of the sail. This is the jib sheet," continued Dory, indicating the rope attached to the lower part of the jib, which led aft into the standing-room, where the helmsman could haul it in or let it off as occasion required.
"There is a man hailing us from the shore," said Thad, as Pearl Hawlinshed called to Dory from the railroad.
"I don't want to see that man," said Dory, recognizing the voice of the disagreeable man from whom he had fled when he left the wharf.
"Do you know him?" asked Thad.
"I never saw him until this morning. He bid against me for this boat, and he is mad because he didn't get it," replied the skipper. "I think he means to do me mischief if he can, and he can't if I keep out of his way."
He could not answer any questions without endangering his great secret. He was on the point of tacking when he heard the call. To go up to the wharf would be to fall into the company of Pearl, and he decided not to do it. Instead of coming about, he let off the sheets, and headed the Goldwing to the southward.
"You are going the wrong way, Dory," said Thad.
"I don't care about going on shore at Plattsburgh again, fellows; but we will get something to eat at Port Jackson," replied Dory, without explaining his reason for not wishing to land at the town.
"But we shall starve to death before you get there," protested Corny. "We have not had a mouthful of any thing to eat to-day. Captain Vesey said we might go with him if we would be on board at five o'clock in the morning, and we had no chance to get any breakfast."
"I am sorry I can't do any thing for you just now; but it is only six miles to Port Jackson, and I think we shall be there in about an hour," replied Dory. "I think the fellow that hailed me is wicked enough to get this boat away from me if he can; and I don't care about meeting him again."
The members of the Goldwing Club settled down in the most comfortable places they could find. A couple of them took possession of the berths in the cuddy, and two others stretched themselves on the seats in the standing-room.They were not so wild as Captain Vesey had reported them to be on the passage from Burlington. They were faint and hungry; for it was now nearly noon, and the voyagers in the Missisquoi had fasted the greater part of twenty-four hours.
The Goldwing was under the lee of the land, where there was no sea; but the wind came in very sharp puffs, as the openings in the shore exposed the boat to the unsteady blast. But she carried so little sail that she went along very easily, and showed no more tendency to upset than any well-built boat would in such puffy weather. The party on board saw nothing in her behavior to warrant the bad reputation she had established.
Three miles brought the boat to Bluff Point; and the shore was so elevated here, that the skipper stood farther out into the lake so that he might not lose the wind. The Goldwing behaved so well, that Dory was beginning to have a great deal of confidence in her, so that he did not hesitate to venture farther from the shore.
The schooner appeared to be making about six miles an hour. Passing between Valcour's Island and the main land, the Goldwing arrived atPort Jackson inside of an hour; but, before the boat entered the little bay on which the port is situated, the boys had another sensation. Dory had hardly thought of looking astern in the run of the Goldwing down from Plattsburgh.
"There's a steamer coming down the same way we did," said Dick Short, as he rose from his place on the seat, just as the schooner was going into the port. "It looks just like the Missisquoi."
"It is the Missisquoi," added Thad, after he had surveyed the boat.
"It certainly looks like her," said Dory, who was trying to make out what this appearance meant.
His companions had told him the destination of the Missisquoi; and he was satisfied that she could have no business in this part of the lake, as she was to be used in towing lumber in the north. He had seen the little steamer go up to the wharf where the Goldwing lay. He could not get rid of the idea that her present trip to the southward was in some way connected with him, and that Pearl Hawlinshed was on board of her.
But he could not disappoint the hungry clubbists again, and he ran the schooner into the bay.He immediately informed his passengers that he could remain at the port but a few minutes. He was going up to the store to obtain provisions for the boat, and would give them something to eat as soon as she was under way again. Then it appeared that only one of them had any money,—Corny Minkfield, whose mother had given him permission to make the trip over to Plattsburgh,—and he had only half a dollar.
Corny went with Dory to the store. They bought a large supply of bread and crackers, a salt fish, and finally the storekeeper offered to part with a ham he had cooked for the use of his own family. Half a small cheese was added to the stock of provisions, which Dory paid for, and they hastened back to the wharf.
"Have you seen any thing of that steamer?" asked Dory, as he came within hailing distance of his companions.
"She has not shown herself yet," replied Thad.
"We have been gone longer than I intended, for the boiled ham took more time than all the rest of the things," replied Dory, as he and Corny deposited their joint burden on the forward deckof the Goldwing. "The Missisquoi was this side of Crab Island when I saw her, and she can't be far off."
"What do we care for the Missisquoi now?" asked Corny.
"Cast off that bow line, Dick Short," added Dory, without answering the question.
The skipper shoved the schooner off from the wharf, and told Dick to hoist the jib. Heading the Goldwing to the eastward, Dory stood out of the harbor. The boat was hardly under way before the Missisquoi put in an appearance at the northern entrance of the bay. Dory kept on his course after he had calculated the point at which the steamer was likely to come nearest to him.
"There she is!" exclaimed several of the club in the same breath. "She is striking in ahead of us."
The Missisquoi was less than a quarter of a mile from the Goldwing. It could plainly be seen that there were two men in her pilot-house; and Dory was confident that Pearl Hawlinshed was one of them. His intentions were certainly very serious if he had gone to the expense of hiring a steamer to chase him. Probably he hadfound some way to break up the sale of the Goldwing. But, whatever his mission, the skipper did not want to see him. He was too closely connected with the secret of the night before to come any nearer to him. He decided, that, if the son of his liberal friend succeeded in "interviewing" him, he would have to run for it.
"I don't understand what that fellow wants of you, Dory," said Corny Minkfield.
"And I don't understand it any better than you do," replied Dory. "All I have to say about it is, that I don't like the looks of the fellow, and I mean to keep out of his way. Pass round the grub, Corny."
Dory thought the food would stop their mouths, and it did. His fellow-voyagers asked no more questions, for they were too busy with the provisions to give attention to any thing else.
As the Goldwing went out from the land, she began to feel the force of the wind, and she darted ahead under the influence of the sharp puffs. A few minutes later the Goldwing passed the bow of the Missisquoi not more than forty rods from her.