"But birds have an influence in the world, I take it, like other folks.You wouldn't think, ma'am, how much store my brother Abe sets by oldJerry yonder."
Aunt Euphemia jumped up with an exclamation of relief. "Louise!" she uttered as she saw the girl, amusement in her eyes, standing in the doorway.
"I do not see how you can endure it, Louise! He is impossible—quite impossible! I never knew your tastes were low!"
Critical to the tips of her trembling fingers, Aunt Euphemia sat stiffly upright in Louise's bedroom rocking chair and uttered this harsh reflection upon her niece's good taste. Louise never remembered having seen her aunt so angry before. But she was provoked herself, and her determination to go her own way and spend her summer as she chose stiffened under the lash of the lady's criticism.
"What will our friends think of you?" demanded Mrs. Conroth. "I am horrified to have them know you ever remained overnight in such a place. There are the Perritons. They were on the train with me coming down from Boston. They are opening their house here at what they call The Beaches—one of the most exclusive colonies on the coast, I understand. They insisted upon my coming there at once, and I have promised to bring you with me."
"You have promised more than you can perform. Aunt Euphemia," Louise replied shortly. "I will remain here."
"Louise!"
"I will remain here with Cap'n Amazon. And with Uncle Abram when he returns. They are both dear old men——"
"That awful looking pirate!" gasped Mrs. Conroth.
"You do not know him," returned the girl. "You do not know how worthy and now kind he is."
"You have only known him a week yourself," remarked Aunt Euphemia. "What can a young girl like you know about these awful creatures—fishermen, sailors, and the like? How can you judge?"
Louise laughed. "Why, Auntie, you know I have seen much of the world and many more people than you have. And if I have not learned to judge those I meet by this time I shall never learn, though I grow to be as old as"—she came near saying "as you are," but substituted instead—"as Mrs. Methuselah. I shall remain here. I would not insult Cap'n Amazon or Cap'n Abe, by leaving abruptly and going with you to the Perritons' bungalow."
"But what shall I say to them?" wailed Aunt Euphemia.
"What have you already said?"
"I said I expected you were waiting for me at Cardhaven. I would not come over from Paulmouth in their car, but hurried on ahead. I wished to save you the disgrace—yes,disgrace!—of being found here in this—this country store. Ugh!" She shuddered again.
"I am determined that they shall not know your poor, dear father unfortunately married beneath him."
"Aunt Euphemia!" exclaimed Louise, her gray eyes flashing now. "Don't say that. It offends me. Daddy-prof never considered my mother or her people beneath his own station."
"Your father, Louise, is a fool!" was the lady's tart reply.
"As he is your brother as well as my father," Louise told her coldly, "I presume you feel you have a right to call him what you please. But I assure you, Aunt Euphemia, it does not please me to hear you do so."
"You are a very obstinate girl!"
"That attribute of my character I fancy I inherit from daddy-professor's side of the family," the girl returned bluntly.
"I shall be shamed to death! I must accept the Perritons' invitation. I already have accepted it. They will think you a very queer girl, to say the least."
"I am," her niece told her, the gray eyes smiling again, for Louise was soon over her wrath. "Even daddy-prof says that."
"Because of his taking you all over the world with him as he did. I only wonder he did not insist upon your going on this present horrid cruise.
"No. I have begun to like my comfort too well," and now Louise laughed outright. "A mark of oncoming age, perhaps."
"You are a most unpleasant young woman, Louise."
Louise thought she might return the compliment with the exchange of but a single word; but she was too respectful to do so.
"I am determined to remain here," she repeated, "so you may as well take it cheerfully, auntie. If you intend staying with the Perritons any length of time, of course I shall see you often, and meet them. I haven't come down here to the Cape to play the hermit, I assure you. But I am settled here with Cap'n Amazon, and I am comfortable. So, why should I make any change?"
"But in this common house! With that awful looking old sailor! And the way he talks! The rough adventures he has experienced—and the way he relates them!"
"Why, I think he is charming. And his stories are jolly fun. He tells the most thrilling and interesting things! I have before heard people tell about queer corners of the world—and been in some of them myself. Only the romance seems all squeezed out of such places nowadays. But when Cap'n Amazon was young!" she sighed.
"You should hear him tell of having once been wrecked on an island in the South Seas where there were only women left of the tribe inhabiting it, the men all having been killed in battle by a neighboring tribe. The poor sailors did not know whether those copper-colored Eves would decide to kill and eat them, or merely marry them."
"Louise!" Aunt Euphemia rose and fairly glared at her niece. "You show distinctly that association with these horrid people down here has already contaminated your mind. You are positively vulgar!"
She sailed out of the room, descended the stairs, and "beat up" through the living-room and store, as Betty Gallup said "with ev'ry stitch of canvas drawin' and a bone in her teeth." Louise agreed about the "bone"—she had given her Aunt Euphemia a hard one to gnaw on.
The girl followed Mrs. Conroth to the automobile and helped her in. Cap'n Amazon came to the store door as politely as though he were seeing an honored guest over the ship's side.
"Ask your A'nt 'Phemie to come again. Too bad she ain't satisfied to jine us here. Plenty o' cabin room. But if she's aimin' to anchor near by she'll be runnin' in frequent I cal'late. Good-day to ye, ma'am!"
Aunt Euphemia did not seem even to see him. She was also afflicted with sudden deafness.
"Louise! I shall never forget this—never!" she declared haughtily, asWilly Peebles started the car and it rumbled on down the Shell Road.
Unable to face Cap'n Amazon just then for several reasons, Louise did not re-enter the store but strolled down to the sands. There was a skiff drawn up above high-water mark and the hoop-backed figure of Washy Gallup sat in it. He was mending a net. He nodded with friendliness to Louise, his jaw working from side to side like a cow chewing her cud—and for the same reason. Washy had no upper teeth left.
"How be you this fine day, miss?" the old fellow asked sociably. "It's enough to put new marrer in old bones, this weather. Cold weather lays me up same's any old hulk. An' I been used to work, I have, all my life. Warn't none of 'em any better'n me in my day."
"You have done your share, I am sure, Mr. Gallup," the girl said, smiling cheerfully down upon him. "Yours is the time for rest."
"Rest? How you talk!" exclaimed Washy. "A man ought to be able to aim his own pollock and potaters, or else he might's well give up the ship. I tell 'em if I was only back in my young days where I could do a full day's work, I'd be satisfied."
Louise had turned up a fiddler with the toe of her boot. As the creature scurried for sanctuary, Washy observed:
"Them's curious critters. All crabs is."
"I think they are curious," Louise agreed. "Like a cross-eyed man. Look one way and run another."
"Surely—surely. Talk about a curiosity—the curiousest-osity I ever see was a crab they have in Japanese waters; big around's a clam-bucket and dangling gre't long laigs to it like a sea-going giraffe."'
Louise was thankful for this opportunity for laughter, for that "curiousest-osity" was too much for her sense of the ludicrous.
Like almost every other man of any age that Louise had met about Cardhaven—save Cap'n Abe himself—Washy had spent a good share of his life in deep-bottomed craft. But he had never risen higher than petty officer.
"Some men's born to serve afore the mast—or how'd we git sailors?" observed the old fellow, with all the philosophy of the unambitious man. "Others get into the afterguard with one, two, three, and a jump!" His trembling fingers knotted the twine dexterously. "Now, there's your uncle."
"Uncle Amazon?" asked Louise.
"No, miss. Cap'n Abe, I mean. This here Am'zon Silt, 'tis plain to be seen, has got more salt water than blood inhisveins. Cap'n Abe's a nice feller—not much again him here where he's lived and kep' store for twenty-odd year. 'Ceptin' his yarnin' 'bout his brother all the time. But from the look of Cap'n Am'zon I wouldn't put past him anything that Cap'n Abe says he's done—and more.
"But Abe himself, now, I'd never believed would trust himself on open water."
"Yet," cried Louise, "he's shipped on a sailing vessel, Uncle Amazon says. He's gone for a voyage."
"Ye-as. Buthashe?" Washy retorted, his head on one side and his rheumy old eyes looking up at her as sly as a ferret's.
"What do you mean?"
"We none of us—none of the neighbors, I mean—seen him go. As fur's we know he didn't go away at all. We're only taking his brother's word for it."
"Why, Mr. Gallup! You're quite as bad as Betty. One would think to hear you and her talk that Cap'n Amazon was a fratricide."
"Huh?"
"That he had murdered his brother," explained the girl.
"That's fratter side, is it? Well, I don't take no stock in such foolishness. Them's Bet Gallup's notions, Cap'n Am'zon's all right, tomyway o' thinkin'. I was talkin' about Cap'n Abe."
"I do not understand you at all, then," said the puzzled girl.
"I see you don't just foller me," he replied patiently. "I ain't casting no alligators at your Uncle Am'zon. It's Cap'n Abe. I doubt his goin' to sea at all. I bet he never shipped aboard that craft his brother tells about."
"Goodness! Why not?"
"'Cause he ain't a sea-goin' man. There's a few o' such amongst Cape Codders. Us'ally they go away from the sea before they git found out, though."
"'Found out?'" the girl repeated with exasperation. "Found out inwhat?"
"That they'rescare'to' blue water," Washy said decidedly. "Nobody 'round here ever seen Cap'n Abe outside the Haven. He wouldn't no more come down here, push this skiff afloat, and row out to deep water than he'd go put his hand in a wild tiger's mouth—no, ma'am!"
"Why, isn't that very ridiculous?" Louise said, not at all pleased. "Of course Cap'n Abe shipped on that boat just as Cap'n Amazon said he was going to. Otherwise he would have been back—or we would have heard from him."
"He did, hey?" responded Washy sharply, springing the surprise he had been leading up to. "Then why didn't he take his chist with him? It's come back to the Paulmouth depot, so Perry Baker says, it not being claimed down to Boston."
Washy Gallup's gossip should not have made much impression upon LouiseGrayling's mind, but it fretted her. Perhaps her recent interview withAunt Euphemia had rasped the girl's nerves. She left the old fishermanwith a tart speech and returned to the store.
There were customers being waited upon, so she had no opportunity to mention the matter of Cap'n Abe's chest to the substitute storekeeper at once. Then, when she had taken time to consider it, she decided not to do so.
It really was no business of hers whether Cap'n Abe had taken his chest with him when he sailed from Boston or not. She had never asked Cap'n Amazon the name of the vessel his brother was supposed to have shipped on. Had she known it was theCurlew, the very schooner on which Professor Grayling had sailed, she would, of course, have shown a much deeper interest. And had Cap'n Amazon learned from Louise the name of the craft her father was aboard, he surely would have mentioned the coincidence.
It stuck in the girl's mind—the puzzle about Cap'n Abe's chest—but it did not come to her lips. Looking across the table that evening, after the store was closed, as they sat together under the hanging lamp, she wondered that Cap'n Amazon did not speak of it if he knew his brother's chest had been returned to the Paulmouth express agent.
Without being in the least grim-looking in her eyes, there was an expression on Cap'n Amazon's face, kept scrupulously shaven, that made one hesitate to pry into or show curiosity regarding any of his private affairs.
He might be perfectly willing to tell her anything she wished to know. He was frank enough in relating his personal experiences up and down the seas, that was sure!
Cap'n Amazon puffed at his pipe and tried to engage the attention of Diddimus. The big tortoise-shell ran from him no longer; but he utterly refused to be petted. He now lay on the couch and blinked with a bored manner at the captain.
If Louise came near him he purred loudly, putting out a hooked claw to catch her skirt and stop her, and so get his head rubbed. But if Cap'n Amazon undertook any familiarities, Diddimus arose in dignified silence and changed his place or left the room.
"Does beat all," the Captain said reflectively, reaching for his knitting, "what notions dumb critters get. We had a black man and a black dog with us aboard the fo'masterSally S. Sternwhen I was master, out o' Baltimore for Chilean ports. Bill was the blackest negro, I b'lieve, I ever see. You couldn't see him in the dark with his mouth and eyes both shut. And that Newfoundland of his was just as black and his coat just as kinky as Bill's wool. The crew called 'em the two Snowballs."
"What notion did the dog take, Uncle Amazon?" Louise asked as he halted. Sometimes he required a little urging to "get going." But not much.
"Why, no matter what Bill did around the deck, or below, or overside, or what not, the dog never seemed to pay much attention to him. But the minute Bill started aloft that dog began to cry—whine and bark—and try to climb the shrouds after that nigger. Land sakes, you never in your life saw such actions! Got so we had to chain the dog Snowball whenever it came on to blow, for there's a consarned lot o' reefin' down and hoistin' sail on one o' them big fo'masters. The skipper't keeps his job on a ship like theSally S. Sternmust get steamboat speed out o' her.
"So, 'twas 'all hands to stations!' sometimes three and four times in a watch. Owners ain't overlib'ral in matter of crew nowadays. Think because there's a donkey-engine on deck and a riggin' to hoist your big sails, ye don't re'lly need men for'ard at all.
"That v'y'ge out in pertic'lar I remember that there was two weeks on a stretch that not a soul aboard had more'n an hour's undisturbed sleep. And that dog! Poor brute, I guess he thought Bill was goin' to heaven and leavin' him behind ev'ry time the nigger started for the masthead.
"I most always," continued Cap'n Amazon, "seen to it myself that the dog was chained when Bill was likely to go aloft. I liked that dog. He was a gentleman, if he was black. And Bill was a good seaman, and with a short tongue. The dog was about the only critter aboard he seemed to cotton to. Nothin' was too good for the dog, and the only way I got Bill to sign on was by agreeing to take the Newfoundland along.
"Well, we got around the Horn much as us'al. Windjammers all have their troubles there. And then, not far from the western end o' the Straits we got into a belt of light airs—short, gusty winds that blew every which way. It kept the men in the tops most of the time. Some of 'em vowed they was goin' to swing their hammocks up there.
"Come one o' those days, with the oldSallyjust loafin' along," pursued Cap'n Amazon, sucking hard on his pipe, "when I spied a flicker o' wind comin', and the mate he sent the men gallopin' up the shrouds. I'd forgot the dog. So had Nigger Bill, I reckon.
"Bill was one o' the best topmen aboard. He was up there at work before the dog woke up and started ki-yi-ing. He bayed Bill like a beagle hound at the foot of a coon tree. Then, jumping, he caught the lower shrouds with his forepaws.
"The new slant of the wind struck us at the same moment. The oldSally S.heeled to larboard and that Newfoundland was jerked over the rail."
"The poor thing!" Louise cried.
"You'd ha' thought so. I wouldn't have felt no worse if one of the men had gone over. Owner's business, or not, I sung out to the second to get his boat out and I kicked off my shoes, grabbed a life-ring, and jumped myself."
"You! Uncle Amazon?" gasped his niece.
"Yep. The mate had the deck and I was the only man free. There wasn't much of a sea runnin', anyway. No pertic'lar danger. That is, not commonly.
"But the minute I come up to the surface and rose breast-high, dashin' the water out o' my eyes so's to look around for the dog, I seen I'd been a leetle mite too previous, as the feller said. I hadn't taken into consideration one pertic'lar chance—like the feller't married one o' twins an' then couldn't tell which from t'other.
"I see Snowball the dog, all right; but headin' for him like a streak o' greased lightin' was the triandicular fin of a shark. I'd forgot all about those fellers; and we hadn't see one for weeks, anyway. In warmer waters than them theSally S. Sternwas then in, the sharks will come right up and stand with their noses out o' the sea begging like a dog for scraps. They'd bark, if they knew how, by gravy!
"Well," went on Cap'n Amazon while Louise listened spellbound, "that dog Snowball was in a bad fix. A dog's a dog—almost human as you might say. But I wasn't aimin' puttin' myself in a shark's mouth for a whole kennel full o' dogs.
"Mind you, not minutes but only seconds had passed since the dog shot outboard. The ship was not movin' fast. She heeled over again' and her spars and flappin' canvas was almost over my head as I glanced up.
"And then I seen a sight—I did, for a fact. I cal'late you never give a thought to how high the teetering top of a mast on such a vessel as theSally S. Sternis, from the ocean level. Never did, eh?
"Well," as the enthralled Louise shook her head, "they're taller than a lot of these tall buildings you see in the city. 'Skyscrapers' they call 'em. That's what the old Sally's topmasts looked like gazin' up at 'em out of the sea. They looked like they brushed the wind-driven clouds chasin' overhead.
"And out o' that web of riggin' and small spars, and slattin' canvas, and other gear, I seen a man's body hurled into the air. It was Snowball, the man. Bill his right name was.
"Flung himself, he did, clean out o' the ship and as she heeled back to starboard he shot down, feet first, straight as a die, and made a hole in the sea not ha'f a cable's length from me and nearer the dog than I was. And as he came down I seen his open knife flashing in his hand.
"Yes, my dear, that was a mem'rable leap. Talk about these fellers jumpin' off that there Brooklyn Bridge! 'Tain't much higher.
"The mate brought theSally S. Sternup into the wind, the second's crew got the boat over, and they picked me up in a jiffy. Then I stood up and yelled for 'em to pull on, for I could see the man, the dog, and the shark almost in a bunch together.
"But," concluded Cap'n Amazon, "a nigger ain't often much afraid of a shark. When we got to 'em there was a patch of bloody water and foam; but it wasn't the blood of neither of the Snowballs that was spilled. They come out of it without a scratch."
"Oh, Cap'n Amazon, what a really wonderful life you have led!" Louise said earnestly.
Cap'n Amazon's eye brightened, and he looked vastly pleased. Whenever he made a serious impression with one of his tales of personal achievement or peril, he was as frankly delighted as a child.
"Yes, ain't I?" he observed. "I don't for the life of me see how Abe's stood it ashore all these years. An' him keepin' a shop!" and he sniffed scornfully.
Before Louise could make rejoinder, or bolster up the reputation of the absent Cap'n Abe in any way, the noise of an automobile stopping before the store was audible,
"Now, if that's one o' them summer fellers, for gas I shall raise the price of it—I vow!" ejaculated Cap'n Amazon, but getting up briskly and laying aside his pipe and knitting.
The summons did not come on the store door. Somebody opened the gate, came to the side door and rapped. Cap'n Amazon shuffled into the hall and held parley with the caller.
"Why, come right in! Sure she's here—an' we're both sittin' up for comp'ny," Louise heard the captain say heartily.
He ushered in Lawford Tapp. Not the usual Lawford, in rough fisherman's clothing or boating flannels—or even in the chauffeur's uniform Louise supposed he sometimes wore. But in the neat, well-fitting clothing of what the habit-advertising pages of the magazines term the "up to date young man." His sartorial appearance outclassed that of any longshoreman she had ever imagined.
Louise gave him her hand with just a little apprehension. She realized that for a young man to make an evening call upon a girl in a simple community such as Cardhaven might cause comment which she did not care to arouse. But it seemed Lawford Tapp had an errand.
"I do not know, Miss Grayling, whether you care to go out in myMerry Andrewnow that your friends have arrived," he said. "But if you do, we might go on Thursday."
"Day after to-morrow? Why not?" she replied with alacrity. "Of course I shall be glad to go—as I already assured you. My—er—friends' coming makes no difference." She thought he referred to Aunt Euphemia and the Perritons. "They will not take up so much of my time that I shall have to desert all my other acquaintances."
Lawford cheered up immensely at this statement. Cap'n Amazon had gone into the store at once and now returned with, his box of "private stock two-fors," one of which choice cigars each of the men took.
"Light up! Light up!" he said cordially. "My niece don't mind the smell of tobacker." Cap'n Amazon was much more friendly with Lawford than Louise might have expected him to be. But, of course, hospitality was a form of religion with the Silt brothers. They could neither of them have treated a guest shabbily.
Indeed, under the influence of the cigar and the presence of another listener, the captain expanded. With little urging he related incident after incident of his varied career—stories of stern trial, of dangerous adventure, of grim fights with the ravening sea; peril by shipwreck, by fire, by savages; encounters with whales and sharks, with Malay pirates; voyaging with a hold full of opium-crazed coolie laborers, and of actual mutiny on the hermaphrodite brig,Galatea, when Cap'n Amazon alone of all the afterguard was left alive to fight the treacherous crew and navigate the ship.
Those two hours were memorable—and would remain so in Louise's mind for weeks. Lawford Tapp, too, quite gave himself up to the charm of the old romancer. To watch Cap'n Amazon's dark intent face and his glowing eyes, while he told of these wonders of sea and land, would have thrilled the most sophisticated listener.
"Isn't he a wonder?" murmured Lawford, as Louise accompanied him to the gate and watched him start the automobile engine. "I never heard such a fellow in my life. And good as gold!"
Louise had made up her mind to be distinctly casual with the young man hereafter; but his hearty praise of her uncle warmed her manner toward him. Besides, she had to confess in secret that Lawford was most likable.
She mentioned her aunt's arrival in the neighborhood and he asked, laughing:
"Oh, then shall we have her for our chaperon?"
"Aunt Euphemia? Mercy, no! I have chosen Betty Gallup and believe me,Mr. Tapp, Betty is much to be preferred."
It was odd that Louise had not yet discovered who and what Lawford Tapp was. Yet the girl had talked with few of the neighbors likely to discuss the affairs of the summer residents along The Beaches. And, of course, she asked Cap'n Amazon no questions, for he was not likely to possess the information.
After she had bidden her uncle good-night and retired, thoughts of Lawford Tapp kept her mind alert. She could not settle herself to sleep. With the lamp burning brightly on the stand at the bedside and herself propped with pillows, she opened the old scrapbook found in the storeroom chest and fluttered its pages.
Almost immediately she came upon a story related in the NewportMercury. It was the supposedly veracious tale of an ancient sea captain who had been a whaler in the old days.
There, almost word for word, was printed the story Cap'n Amazon had told her that evening about the black man and the black dog!
The finding of one of Cap'n Amazon's amazing narratives of personal prowess in the old scrapbook shocked Louise Grayling. The mystery of the thing made alert her brain and awoke in the girl vague suspicions that troubled her for hours. Indeed, it was long that night before she could get to sleep.
During these days of acquaintanceship and familiarity with the old sea captain she had learned to love him so well for his good qualities that it was easy for her to forgive his faults. If he "drew the long bow" in relating his adventures, his niece was prepared to excuse the failing.
There was, too, an explanation of this matter, and one not at all improbable. The reporter of theMercuryclaimed to have taken down the story of the black man who had fought a shark for the life of his dog just as it fell from the lips of an ancient mariner. This mariner might have been Cap'n Amazon Silt himself. Why not? The captain might have been more modest in relating his personal connection with the incident when talking with the reporter than he had been in relating the story to his niece.
Still, even with this suggested explanation welcomed to her mind, Louise Grayling was puzzled. She went through the entire scrapbook, skimming the stories there related, to learn if any were familiar. But no. She found nothing to suggest any of the other tales Cap'n Amazon had related in her hearing. And it was positive that her uncle had not read this particular story of the black man and the black dog since coming to the store on the Shell Road, for Louise had had possession of the book.
Therefore she was quite as mystified when she fell asleep at dawn as she had been when first her discovery was made. She was half determined to probe for an explanation of the coincidence when she came downstairs to a late breakfast. But no good opportunity presented itself for the broaching of any such inquiry.
She wished to make preparations for the fishing party in theMerry Andrew, and that kept her in the kitchen part of the day. She baked a cake and made filling for sandwiches.
Betty Gallup accepted the invitation to accompany Louise on the sloop without hesitation. She approved of Lawford Tapp. Yet she dropped nothing in speaking of the young man to open Louise's eyes to the fact that he was the son of a multi-millionaire.
The activities of the moving picture company increased on this day; but it was not until the following morning, when Louise went shoreward with the tackle and the smaller lunch basket, that she again saw Mr. Judson Bane to speak to. As she sat upon the thwart of the old skiff where Washy Gallup had mended his net, the handsome leading man of the picture company strolled by.
Bane certainly made a picturesque fisherman, whether he looked much like the native breed or not. An open-air studio had been arranged on the beach below the Bozewell bungalow, and Louise could see a director trying to give a number of actors his idea of what a group of fishermen mending their nets should look like.
"He should engage old Washy Gallup to give color to the group," Louise said to Bane, laughing.
"Anscomb is having his own troubles with that bunch," sighed the leading man. "Some of them never saw a bigger net before than one to catch minnows. Do you sail in this sloop I see coming across from the millionaire's villa, Miss Grayling?"
"Yes," Louise replied. "Mr. Tapp is kind enough to take us fishing."
"You are, then, one of these fortunate creatures," and Bane's sweeping gesture indicated that he referred to the occupants of the cottages set along the bluff above The Beaches, "who toil not, neither do they spin. I fancied you might be one of us. Rather, I've heard that down here."
"That surmise gained coinage when I first arrived at Cardhaven," Louise said, dimpling. "I did nothing to discourage the mistake, and I presume Gusty Durgin still believes I pose before the camera."
"Gusty has aspirations that way herself," chuckled Bane. "She is a character."
"I wonder what kind of screen actress I would make?"
He smiled down at her rather grimly. "The kind the directors call the appealing type, I fancy, Miss Grayling. Though I have no doubt you would do much better than most. Making big eyes at a camera is the limit of art achieved by many of our feminine screen stars. I do not expect to put in a very pleasant summer amid my present surroundings."
"Oh, then you are here for more than one picture."
"Several, if the weather proves propitious. I shall play the fisherman hero, or the villain, until my manager has my new play ready in the fall. Believe me, Miss Grayling, I am not in love with this picture drama. But when one is offered for his resting season half as much again as he can possibly earn during the run of a legitimate Broadway production he must not be blamed for accepting the contract. We all bow to the power of gold."
Louise, whose gaze was fixed upon the approaching sloop, smiled. She was thinking; "All but Lawford Tapp, the philosophic fisherman!"
"I believe," Bane said, with flattery, "that I should delight to play opposite to you, Miss Grayling, rank amateur though you would be. This Anscomb really is a wonderful director and gets surprising results from material that cannot compare with you. I'll speak to him if you say the word. He'd oblige me, I am sure. One of the scripts he has told me about has a part fitted to you."
"Oh, Mr. Bane!" she cried. "I'd have to think about that, I fear. And such a tempting offer! Now, if you said that to Gusty Durgin——"
At the moment Betty Gallup came into view. Masculine in appearance at any time in her man's hat and coat, she was doubly so now. She frankly wore overalls, but had drawn a short skirt over them; and she wore gum boots. Bane stared at this apparition and gasped:
"Is—is it a man—or what?"
"Why, Mr. Bane! That is my chaperon."
"Chaperon! Ye gods and little fishes! Miss Grayling, no matter where you go, or with whom, you are perfectly safe withthatas a chaperon."
"How rediculous, Mr. Bane!" the girl cried, laughing. Betty strode through the sand to the spot where they stood. "This is Mr. Bane, Betty," Louise continued, "Mrs. Gallup, Mr. Bane."
The actor swept off his sou'wester with a flourish. Betty eyed him with disfavor.
"So you're one o' them play-actors, be you? Land sakes! And tryin' to look like a fisherman, too! I don't s'pose you know a grommet from the bight of a hawser."
"Guilty as charged," Bane admitted with a chuckle. "But we all must live, Mrs. Gallup."
"Humph!" grunted the old woman. "Are you sure that's so in ev'ry case? There's more useless folks on the Cape now than the Recordin' Angel can well take care on."
"Oh, Betty!" Louise gasped.
But Bane was highly amused. "I'm not at all sure you're not right, Mrs. Gallup. I sometimes feel that if I were a farmer and raised onions, or a fisherman and caught the denizens of the sea, I might feel a deeper respect for myself. As it is, when I work I am onlyplaying."
"Humph!" exploded Betty again. "'Denizens of the sea,' eh? New one on me. I ain't never heard ofthemfish afore."
The sail of the sloop slatted and then came down with the rattle of new canvas. Having let go the sheet, Lawford ran forward and pitched the anchor over. Then he drew in the skiff that trailed theMerry Andrew, stepped in, and sculled himself ashore, beaching the boat, just as Cap'n Amazon came down from the store with a second basket of supplies.
"Wish I was goin' with ye," he said heartily. "Would, too, if I could shut up shop. But I promised Abe I'd stay by the ship till he come home again."
Louise introduced her uncle to Mr. Bane; but during the bustle of getting into the skiff and pushing off she overlooked the fact that Lawford and the actor were not introduced.
"Bring us home a mess of tautog," Cap'n Amazon shouted. "I sartainly do fancy blackfish when they're cooked right. Bile 'em, an' serve with an egg sauce, is my way o' puttin' 'em on the table."
"That was Cap'n Abe's way, too," muttered Betty.
The cloud on Lawford Tapp's countenance did not lift immediately as he sculled them out to the anchored sloop. Louise saw quickly that his ill humor was for Bane.
"I must keep this young man at a distance," she thought, as she waved her hand to Uncle Amazon and Mr. Bane. "He takes too much for granted, I fear. Perhaps, after all, I should have excused myself from this adventure."
She eyed Lawford covertly as, with swelling muscles and lithe, swinging body, he drove his sculling oar. "But he does look more 'to the manner born'—much more the man, in fact—than that actor!"
Lawford could not for long forget his duty as host, and he was as cheerful and obliging as usual by the time the three had scrambled aboard theMerry Andrew.
Immediately Betty Gallup cast aside her skirt and stood forth untrammeled in the overalls. "Gimme my way and I'd wear 'em doin' housework and makin' my garding," she declared. "Land sakes! I allus did despise women's fooleries."
Louise laughed blithely.
"Why, Betty," she said, "lots of city women who do their own housework don 'knickers' or gymnasium suits to work in. No excuse is needed."
"Humph!" commented the old woman. "I had no idee city women had so much sense. The ones I see down here on the Cape don't show it."
The morning breeze was light but steady. TheMerry Andrewwas a sweetly sailing boat and Lawford handled her to the open admiration of Betty Gallup. The old woman's comment would have put suspicion in Louise's mind had the girl not been utterly blind to the actual identity of the sloop's owner.
"Humph! you're the only furiner, Lawford Tapp, I ever see who could sail a smack proper. But you got Cape blood in you—that's what 'tis."
"Thank you, Betty," he returned, with the ready smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "That is a compliment indeed."
The surf only moaned to-day over Gull Rocks, for there was little ground swell. The waves heaved in, with an oily, leisurely motion and, it being full sea, merely broke with a streak of foam marking the ugly reef below.
A little to the seaward side of the apex of the reef Betty, at a word from Lawford, cast loose the sheet and then dropped the anchor.
"Mussel beds all about here," explained the young man to his guest. "That means good feeding for the blackfish. Can't catch them anywhere save on a rock bottom, or around old spiles or sunken wrecks. Better let me rig your line, Miss Grayling. You'll need a heavier sinker than that for outside here—ten ounces at least. You see, the tug of the undertow is considerable."
Betty Gallup, looking every whit the "able seaman" now, rigged her own line quickly and opened the bait can.
"Land sakes!" she exclaimed. "Where'd you get scallop bait this time o' year, Lawford? You must be a houn' dog for smellin' 'em out."
"I am," he laughed. "I know that tautog will leave mussels for scallop any time. And we'll have the eyes of the scallops fried for lunch. They're all ready in the cabin."
The pulpy, fat bodies of the scallop—a commercial waste—were difficult to hang upon the short, blunt hooks; but Lawford seemed to have just the knack of it. He showed Louise how to lower the line to the proper depth, advising:
"Remember, you'll only feel a nibble. The tautog is a shy fish. He doesn't swallow hook, line, and sinker like a hungry cod. You must snap him quick when he takes the hook, for his mouth is small and you must get him instantly—or not at all."
Louise found this to be true. Her hooks were "skinned clean" several times before she managed to get inboard her first fish.
She learned, too, why the tackle for tautog has to be so strong. Once hooked, the fish darts straight down under rocks or into crevasses, and sulks there. He comes out of that ambush like a chunk of lead.
The party secured a number of these dainty fish; but to lend variety to the day's haul they got the anchor up after luncheon and ran down to the channels there to chum for snappers. Lawford had brought along rods; for to catch the young and gamey bluefish one must use an entirely different rigging from that used for tautog.
Louise admired the rod Lawford himself used. She knew something about fancy tackle, and this outfit of the young man, she knew, never cost a penny less than a hundred dollars.
"And this sloop, which is his property," she thought, "is another expensive possession. I can see where his money goes—when he has any to spend. He is absolutely improvident. Too bad."
She had to keep reminding herself, it seemed, of Lawford Tapp's most glaring faults. Improvidence and a hopeless leaning toward extravagance were certainly unforgivable blemishes in the character of a young man in the position she believed Lawford held.
The sport of chumming for snappers, even if they hooked more of sluggish fluke than of the gamier fish to tempt which the chopped bait is devoted, was so exciting that Betty, sailing the sloop, overlooked a pregnant cloud that streaked up from the horizon almost like a puff of cannon smoke.
The squall was upon them so suddenly that Louise could not wind in her line in good season. Lawford was quicker; but in getting his tackle inboard he was slow to obey Betty's command:
"Let go that sheet! Want to swamp us, foolin' with that fancy fish rod?"
"Aye, aye, skipper!" he sang out, laughing, and jumped to cast off the line in question just as the sail bulged taut as a drumhead with the striking squall.
There was a "lubber's loop" in the bight of the sheet and as the young man loosed it his arm was caught in this trap. The boom swung viciously outboard and Lawford went with it. He was snatched like some inanimate object over the sloop's rail and, the next instant, plunged beneath the surface of the suddenly foam-streaked sea.
Lawford came up as the sloop swept by on her new tack, his smile as broad as ever. He blew loudly and then shouted:
"Going—-too—fast—for—me! Whoa! Back up a little, ladies, and let me climb aboard."
"Well, of all the crazy critters!" the "able seaman" declared. "Stand by with that boathook, Miss Lou, and see if you can harpoon him."
Louise swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to laugh too. To tell the truth, the accident to Lawford Tapp had frightened her dreadfully at the moment it occurred.
Betty Gallup put over the wheel and theMerry Andrew, still under propulsion of the bursting squall, flew about, almost on her heel. Louise, who was shielding her eyes from the flying spray under the sharp of her hand and watching the head and shoulders of Lawford as he plowed through the jumping waves with a great overhand stroke, suddenly shrieked aloud:
"Oh, Betty!"
"What's the matter? Land sakes!"
Both saw the peril threatening the swimmer. The light skiff at the end of the long painter whipped around when the line tautened. As Betty cried out in echo to Louise's wail, the gunnel of the skiff crashed down upon Lawford's head and shoulders.
"Oh! Oh! He's hurt!" cried Louise.
"He's drowned—dead!" ejaculated Betty Gallup. "Here, Miss Lou, you take the wheel——"
But the girl had no intention of letting the old woman go overboard.Betty in her heavy boots would be wellnigh helpless in the choppy sea.If it were possible to rescue Lawford Tapp she would do it herself.
The human mind is a wonderfully constituted—mechanism, may we call it? It receives and registers impressions that are seemingly incoordinate; then of a sudden each cog slips into place and the perfection of a belief, of an opinion, of a desire, even of a most momentous discovery, is attained.
Thus instantly Louise Grayling had a startling revelation, "Handle the boat yourself, Betty!" she commanded. "I am going to get him."
Her skirt was dropped, even as she spoke. She wore "sneaks" to-day instead of high boots, and she kicked them off without unlacing them. Then, poising on the rail for a moment, she dived overboard on a long slant.
She swam under the surface for some fathoms and coming up dashed the water from her eyes to stare about.
The black squall had passed. The sea dimpled in blue and green streaks as before. A few whitecaps only danced about the girl. Where Lawford had gone down——
A round, sleek object—like the head of a seal—bobbed in the agitated water. It was not ten yards away. Had she not been so near she must have overlooked it. He might have sunk again, going down forever, for it was plain the blow he had suffered had deprived Lawford of consciousness.
Louise wasted no breath in shouting, nor moments in looking back atBetty and the sloop. All her life she had been confident in the water.She had learned to ride a surfboard with her father like the natives inHawaii. A comparatively quiet sea like this held no terrors for LouiseGrayling.
She dived in a long curve like a jumping porpoise, and went down after the sinking man. In thirty seconds she had him by the hair, and then beat her way to the surface with her burden.
Lawford's face was dead white; his eyes open and staring. There was a cut upon the side of his head from which blood and water dribbled upon her shoulder as she held him high out of the sea.
There sounded the clash of oars in her ears. How Betty had lowered the jib, thrown over the anchor, and manned the skiff so quickly would always be a mystery to Louise. But the "able seaman" knew this coast as well, at least, as Lawford Tapp. They were just over a shoal, and there was safe anchorage for a small craft.
"Give him to me. Land sakes!" gasped Betty over her head. "I never see no city gal like you, Miss Lou."
Nor had Louise ever seen a woman with so much muscular strength and the knowledge of how to apply it as Betty displayed. She lifted Lawford out of the girl's arms and into the skiff with the dexterity of one trained in hauling in halibut, for Betty had spent her younger years on the Banks with her father.
Louise scrambled into the skiff without assistance. Betty was already at the oars and Louise took the injured head of the man in her lap. He began to struggle back to life again.
"I—I'm all right," he muttered. "Sorry made such a—a fool—of—myself."
"Hush up,you!" snapped Betty. "I'd ought to have seed to this skiff. Then you wouldn't have got battered like you did." A tear ran frankly down Betty's nose and dripped off its end. "If anything really bad had happened to you, Lawford, I'd a-never forgive myself. I thought you was a goner for sure."
"Thanks to you, I'm not, I guess, Betty," he said more cheerfully. He did not know who had jumped overboard to his rescue.
For some reason the girl was suddenly embarrassed by this fact.
The skiff reached the plunging sloop and Louise got inboard and aidedBetty to get Lawford over the rail. Then she slipped on her skirt.
Lawford slumped down in the cockpit, saying he was all right but looking all wrong.
"Going to get him back to Tapp Point just as quick as I can," declared the "able seaman" to Louise. "Doctor ought to see that cut."
"Oh, Betty!"
"Now, now, Miss Lou," murmured the old woman with the light of sudden comprehension in her eyes. "Don't take on now! You've been a brave gal so fur."
"And I will keep my courage," Louise said with tremulous smile.
"Go right over there an' hold his head, Miss Lou. Pet him up a leetle bit; 'twon't hurt a mite."
The vivid blush that dyed the girl's cheeks signaled the fact that Betty had guessed more of the truth than Louise cared to have her or anybody know. She shook her head negatively to the keen-eyed old woman; nevertheless she went forward, found one of Lawford's handkerchiefs and bound up his head. The cut did not seem very deep; yet the shock of the blow he had suffered certainly had dulled the young man's comprehension.
"Thank you—thank you," he muttered and laid his head down on his arms again.
Betty rounded the end of the Neck where the lighthouse stood. One of the lightkeepers was on the gallery just under the lamp chamber and had been watching them through his glasses. He waved a congratulatory hand as theMerry Andrewshot along, under the "able seaman's" skillful guidance.
"I'm goin' to put you ashore in the skiff right there by the store,Miss Lou," Betty said.
"Shouldn't I get a doctor and send him over to the Point?"
"They've got a telephone there," Betty told her.
"I—I hope they'll take good care of him."
"They ought to," sniffed Betty. "I'll see to it he's all right, MissLou, before I leave him."
"Thank you, Betty," returned the girl, too honest to make any further attempt to deny her deep interest in the man.
When the sail rattled down and Louise tossed over the anchor, Lawford roused a bit. "Sorry the trip turned out so rotten bad, Miss Grayling," he mumbled. "I—I don't feel just right yet."
Louise patted his shoulder. "You poor boy!" she said tenderly. "Don't mind about me. It's you we are worrying about. But I am sure you cannot be seriously injured. Betty will take you directly over to the Point and the folks there will get a doctor for you. Next time we'll have a much nicer fishing trip, Mr. Tapp. Good-bye."
He muttered his adieu and watched her get into the skiff after Betty and the baskets. The "able seaman" rowed quickly to the beach. The sharp eyes of Mr. Bane noted their arrival, and he strode over to the spot where the skiff came in, to help Louise out of the boat and bring the baskets ashore.
"You need a handy man, I see," the actor observed. "What a fine catch you have had—blackfish, snappers, and fluke, eh? I'll carry the baskets up to your uncle's store for you. Fine old man, your uncle, Miss Grayling. And what stories he can tell of his adventures—my word!"
"Come over to-night and tell me how he is, betty, won't you?" the girl whispered to the "able seaman" and the latter, nodding her comprehension, pulled back to the sloop. Neither of them saw that Lawford was watching the little group on shore and that when Bane and the girl turned toward the store the young man looked after them with gloomy visage.
The girl's replies to Bane's observation were most inconsequential. Her mind was upon Lawford and his condition. She was personally uncomfortable, too; for although the sun and wind had dried her hair and her blouse, beneath the dry skirt her clothing was wet.
As they came to the Shell Road the long, gray roadster Louise had seen before came down from town. L'Enfant Terrible was at the wheel while her two older sisters sat in the narrow seat behind. Cecile tossed a saucy word over her shoulder, indicating Louise and Bane, and her older sisters smiled superciliously upon the two pedestrians. Louise was too deeply occupied with thoughts of the injured man to note this by-play.
"Horrid taste she has, I must say," drawled Marian. Marian was the eldest of the Tapp girls. To tell the truth (but this is strictly in confidence and must go no further!) she had been christened Mary Ann after Israel Tapp's commonplace mother. That, of course, was some time before I. Tapp, the Salt Water Taffy King, had come into his kingdom and assumed the robe and scepter of his present financial position.
"Oh!" ejaculated Cecile. "That's Judson Bane, the Broadway star, she's walking with. I'd like to know him myself."
"You coarse little thing!" drawled Marian.
"And you not out yet!" Prue, the second sister, observed cuttingly."You're only a child. I wish you'd learn your place and keep it."
"Oh, fudge!" responded L'Enfant Terrible, not deeply impressed by these sisterly admonitions.
Marian was twenty-six—two years Lawford's senior. She was a heavy, lymphatic girl, fast becoming as matronly of figure as her mother. She still bolstered up her belief that she had matrimonial prospects; but the men who wanted to marry her she would not have while those she desired to marry would not have her. Marian Tapp was becoming bored.
Prue was a pretty girl. She was but nineteen. However, she had likewise assumed a bored air after being in society a single season.
"That big actor man will put poor Fordy's nose out of joint with the film lady," Prue said. "Look out for that dog, Cis. It's the Perritons'. If you run over him——"
"Nasty little thing!" grumbled Cecile.
"And the apple of Sue Perriton's eye," drawled Marian. "Be careful what you are about, Cecile. It all lies with the Perritons whether we get into society this season or not."
"And that Mrs. Conroth who is with them," put in Prue. "Sheis the real thing—the link between the best of New York and Albany society. Old family—away back to the patroons—so old she has to keep moth balls hung in her family tree. My! if mother could once become the familiar friend of miladi Conroth——"
"No such luck," groaned Marian. "After all's said and done, mother can't forget the candy kitchen. She always looks to me, poor dear, as though she had just been surreptitiously licking her fingers."
"Wedohave the worst luck!" groaned the second sister. "There's that Dot Johnson coming. Mother says daddy insists, and when I. Tapp does put down his foot——Well!"
"We'll put her off on Fordy," suggested, the brighter-witted Cecile."She rather fancies Ford, I think."
"Dot Johnson!" chorused the older girls, in horror. "Not really?"Marian continued. "The Johnsons are impossible."
"They've got more money than daddy has," said Prue.
"But they have no aspirations—none at all," murmured Marian, in horror. "If Lawford married Dot Johnson it would be almost as bad as his being mixed up with that picture actress."
"For him; not for us," said Prue promptly. "Of course, as far as theJohnsons go, they are too respectable for anything. Poor Fordy!"
"Goodness!" snapped Cecile. "It's not all settled. The banns aren't up."
The girls wheeled into the grounds surrounding the Tapp villa just as Betty Gallup guided theMerry Andrewto the dock and leaped ashore with the mooring rope.
Tapp Point consisted of about five acres of bluff and sand. At great expense the Taffy King had terraced the bluff and had made to grow several blades of grass where none at all had been able to gain root before.
The girls saw the queer-looking Betty Gallup helping their brother out of the sloop.
"Say! something's happened to Ford, I guess," Cecile cried, stopping the car short of the porte-cochere.
"Run down and see," commanded Marian languidly.
But Prue hopped out of the roadster and started down the path immediately. She and Lawford still had a few things in common. Mutual affection was one of them.
"What's happened to him?" she cried. "You're Mrs. Gallup, aren't you?"
"I'm Bet Gallup—yes. You run call up Doc Ambrose from over toPaulmouth. Your brother's got a bad knock on the head."
"And he's been overboard!" gasped Prue.
"I—I'm all right," stammered Lawford. "Let me lie down for a little while. Don't need a doctor."
"You're as wet as a drowned rat," his sister said. "Come on up and get some dry clothes, Ford. I'm sure you're awful kind, Mrs. Gallup. I will telephone for the doctor at once."
"You bet she's kind! Good old soul!" murmured Lawford. "I'd have been six fathoms deep if it hadn't been for Betty."
"She hauled you into the boat, did she?" Prue said in a sympathetic tone. "Well, we won't forgetthat."
Betty had stepped aboard the sloop again to reef down and make all taut. Her sailor-soul would not allow her to leave the lapstreak in a frowsy condition.
Meanwhile Cecile came flying down from the garage, and between his two sisters Lawford was aided up to the house. Despite the young man's protests, Dr. Ambrose was called and he rattled over in what the jolly medical man termed his "one-horse shay." That rattletrap of a second-hand car was known in every town and hamlet for miles around. Sometimes he got stalled, for the engine of the car was one of the crankiest ever built, and the good physician had to get out and proceed on foot. When this happened the man who owned a horse living nearest to the unredeemed automobile always hitched up and dragged the car home. For Dr. Ambrose was beloved as few men save a physician is ever loved in a country community.
"You got a hard crack and no mistake, young man," the physician said, plastering his patient's head in a workmanlike manner. "But you've a good, solid cranium as I've often told you. Not much to get hurt above the ears—mostly bone all the way through. Not easy to crack, like some of these eggshell heads."
Lawford felt the effects of the blow, however, for the rest of the evening. His father was away and so he had no support against the organized attack of the women of the family. Although it is doubtful if I. Tapp would have sided with his son.
"It really serves you right, Ford, for taking that movie actress sailing," drawled Marian.
"It is a judgment upon him," sighed their mother, wiping her eyes."Oh, Ford, if you only would settle down and not be so wild!"
"'Wild!' Oh, bluey!" murmured L'Enfant Terrible, who considered her brother a good deal of a tame cat.
"At least," Marian pursued, "you might carry on your flirtation in a less public manner."
"'Flirtation!'" ejaculated Lawford, with a spark of anger—and then settled back on the couch with a groan.
"My goodness me, Ford!" gasped Prue. "You're surely not in earnest?"
"I should hopenot," drawled Marian.
"Oh, Ford, my boy——"
"Now, mother, don't turn on the sprinkler again," advised L'Enfant Terrible. "It will do you no good. And, anyway, I guess Ford hasn't any too bright a chance with the Grayling. You ought to have seen that handsome Judson Bane lean over her when they were walking up to Cap'n Abe's. I thought he was going to nibble her ear!"
"Cecile!"
"Horrid thing!" Prue exclaimed. "I don't know where she gets such rude manners."
"That boarding school last winter completely spoiled her," complained the mother. "And I sent her to it because Sue Perriton and Alice Bozewell go there."
"And I had a fine chance to get chummy withthem!" snapped Cecile."They were both seniors."
"But really," Marian went on, "your entanglement with that movie actress is sure to make trouble for us, Ford. You might be a little more considerate. Just as we are getting in with the Perritons. And their guest, Mrs. Conroth, was really very nice to mother this morning on the beach. She has the open sesame to all the society there is on this side of the Atlantic. It's really a wonderful chance for us, Ford."
"And—he's bound—to spoil—it all!" Mrs. Tapp sobbed into an expensive bit of lace.
"You might be a good sport, Fordy, dear," urged Prue.
"Yes, Fordy; don't crab the game," added the vulgar Cecile.
"You know very well," said the elder sister, "how hard we have tried to take our rightful place here at The Beaches. We have the finest home by far; daddy's got the most money of any of them, and let's us spend it, too. And still it's like rolling a barrel up a sand bank. Just a little thing will spoil our whole season here."
"Do, do be sensible, Ford!" begged his mother.
"Sacrifice yourself for the family's good," said Prue.
"Dear Ford," began Mrs. Tapp again, "for my sake—for all our sakes—take thought of what you are doing. This—this actress person cannot be a girl you could introduce to your sisters——"
"No more of that, mother!" exclaimed the young man, patience at last ceasing to be a virtue. "Criticise me if you wish to; but I will hear nothing against Miss Grayling."
"Oh, dear! Now I have offended him again!" sobbed the matron.
"You are too utterly selfish for words!" declared Marian.
"You're a regularpig!" added Prue.
"If you get mixed up with an actress, Fordy, I'll have a fine time whenI come out, won't I?" complained Cecile.
"Caesar's ghost!" burst from the lips of the badgered young man. "I wish Betty Gallup had let me drown instead of hauling me inboard this afternoon!"