Flood Tide

by Sara Ware Bassett

  CHAPTER IV

  THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER ENTERS

  Before the morning had passed Bob Morton was as much at home in thelittle cottage that faced the sea as if he had lived there all hisdays. His property was spread out in the old mahogany bureau upstairs;his hat dangled from a peg in the hall; and he had exchanged his "cityclothes" for the less conventional outing shirt and suit of blue serge,both of which transformed him into a figure amazingly slender andboyish. For two hours he and Celestina had rehearsed the familyhistory from beginning to end; and now he had left her to get dinner,and he and Willie had betaken themselves to the workshop where theywere deep in confidential conversation.

  "You see," the inventor was explaining to his guest, "it's like this:it ain't so much that I want to bother with these notions as that Ihave to. They get me by the throat, an' there's no shakin' 'em off.Only yesterday, fur example, I got kitched with an idee about a boat--"he broke off, regarding his listener with sudden suspicion.

  Bob waited.

  Evidently Willie's scrutiny of the frank countenance opposite satisfiedhim, for dropping his voice he continued in an impressive whisper:

  "About a motor-boat, this idee was."

  Glancing around as if to assure himself that no one was within hearing,he hitched the barrel on which he was seated nearer his visitor.

  "There's a sight of plague with motor-boats among these shoals," hewent on eagerly. "What with the eel-grass that grows along the inletsan' the kelp that's washed in by the tide after a storm, the propellerof a motor-boat is snarled up a good bit of the time. Now my scheme,"he announced, his last trace of reserve vanishing, "is to box thatpropeller somehow--if so be as it can be done--an'--," the voicetrailed off into meditation.

  Robert Morton, too, was silent.

  "You would have to see that the wheel was kept free," he mused aloudafter an interval.

  "I know it."

  "And not check the speed of the boat."

  "Right you are, mate!" exclaimed Willie with delight.

  "And not hamper the swing of the rudder."

  "You have it! You have it!" Willie shouted, rubbing his hands togetherand smiling broadly. "It's all them things I'm up against."

  "I believe the trick might be turned, though," replied young Morton,rising from the nail keg on which he was sitting and striding about thenarrow room. "It's a pretty problem and one it would be rather goodfun to work out."

  "I'd need to rig up a model to experiment with, I s'pose," reflectedWillie.

  "Oh, we could fix that easily enough," Bob cried with rising enthusiasm.

  "_We_?"

  "Sure! I'll help you."

  The announcement did not altogether reassure the inventor, and Boblaughed at the dubious expression of his face.

  "Of course I'm only a dry-land sailor," he went on to explaingood-humoredly, "and I do not begin to have had the experience withboats that you have. I did, however, study about them some at Tech andperhaps--"

  "Study about 'em!" repeated Willie, unable wholly to conceal hisscepticism and scorn.

  Again the younger man laughed.

  "I realize that is not like getting knowledge first-hand," he continuedwith modesty, "but it seemed the best I could do. As to this plan ofyours, two heads are sometimes better than one, and between us Ibelieve we can evolve an answer to the puzzle."

  "That'll be prime!" Willie ejaculated, now quite comfortable in hismind. "An' when we get the answer to the riddle, Jan Eldridge willhelp us. You ain't met Jan yet, have you? He's the salt of the earth,Janoah Eldridge is. Him an' me are the greatest chums you ever saw.He mebbe has his peculiarities, like the rest of us. Who ain't?You'll likely find him kinder sharp-tongued at first, but he don't meannothin' by it; and' he's quick, too--goes up like a rocket at aminute's notice. Folks down in town insist in addition that he'sjealous as a girl, but I've yet to see signs of it. Fur all his littlecrochets you'll like Jan Eldridge. You can't help it. We're none ofus angels--when it comes to that. Hush!" broke off Willie warningly."I believe that's him now. Didn't you see a head go past the winder?"

  "I thought I did."

  "Then that's Jan. Nobody else would be comin' across the dingle. Nownot a word of this motor-boat business to him," cautioned Willie,dropping his voice. "I never tell Jan 'bout my idees 'till I get 'emwell worked out, for he's no great shakes at inventin'."

  There was an instant of guilty silence, and then the two conspiratorsbeheld a freckled face, crowned by a mass of rampant sandy hair,protrude itself through the doorway.

  "Hi, Willie!" called the newcomer, unmindful of the presence of astranger. "Well, how do you find yourself to-day? Ready to tackleanother pump?"

  With simulated indignation Willie bristled.

  "Pump!" he repeated. "Don't you dare so much as to mention pumps in myhearin' fur six months, Janoah Eldridge. I've had my fill of pumps furone spell."

  The freckled face in the door expanded its smile into a grin thatdisplayed the few scattered teeth adorning its owner's jaws.

  "No," went on the inventor, "I ain't attackin' no pumps to-day. I'msorter takin' a vacation. You see we've got company. Tiny's nephew,Bob Morton from Indiana, has come to stay with us. This is him on thenail keg."

  Shuffling further into the room Jan peered inquisitively at the guest.

  "So you're Tiny's nephew, eh?" he commented, examining the visitor'scountenance with curiosity. "Well, well! To think of some of Tiny'srelations turnin' up at last! Not that it ain't high time, I'll saythat. Now which of the Mortons do you belong to, young man?"

  "Elnathan."

  "I might 'a' known first glance, for you're like him as his tintype."

  Bob laughed.

  "Aunt Tiny thinks I am, too."

  "She'd oughter know," was the dry comment. "She had the plague ofbringin' him up from the time he could toddle. I'm glad some of youhave finally got round to comin' to see her. You've been long enoughdoin' it. I ain't so sure, though, but if I was in her place I'd--"

  "There, there, Jan," interrupted Willie nervously, "why go diggin' upthe past? The lad is here now an'--"

  "But they have been the devil of a while takin' notice of Tiny," Janoahpersisted, not to be coaxed away from his subject. "Why, 'twas onlythe other day when we was workin' out here that you yourself said theway her folks had neglected her was outrageous."

  "And it was, too, Mr. Eldridge," confessed Bob, flushing. "Our wholefamily have treated Aunt Tiny shamefully. There is no excuse for it."

  Before the honest admission of blame, Jan's mounting wrath grudginglycalmed itself.

  "Well," he grumbled in a more conciliatory tone, "as Willie says, mebbeit's just as well not to go bringin' to life what's buried already.Like as not there may have been some good reason for your folks nevercomin' back to Wilton after once they'd left the place. Indiana's thedevil of a distance away--'most at the other end of the world, ain'tit? You might as well live in China as Indiana. I never could seeanyway what took people out of Wilton. There ain't a better spot onearth to live than right here. Yet for all that, every one of theMortons 'cept Tiny (who showed her good sense, in my opinion) wentflockin' out of this town quick as they was growed, like as if they wasa lot of swarmin' bees. I doubt myself, too, if they're a whit betteroff for it. Your father now--what does he make out to do in Indiana?"

  "Father is in the grain business," replied Bob with a smile.

  "The grain business, is he? An' likely he sets in an office all daylong, in out of the fresh air," continued Jan with contempt. "Plumbfoolish I call it, when he could be livin' in Wilton an' fishin', an'clammin', an' enjoying himself. That's the way with so many folks.They go kitin' off to the city to make money enough to buy one of themautomobiles. You won't ketch me with an automobile--no, nor amotor-boat, neither; nor any other of them durn things that's goin' toset me livin' like as if I was shot out of the cannon's mouth. What'sthe good of bein' whizzed through life as if the old Nick himself wasat your he
els--workin' faster, eatin' faster, dyin' faster? I seenothin' to it--nothin' at all."

  At the risk of rousing the philosopher's resentment, Bob burst into apeal of laughter.

  "But ain't it so now, I ask you? Ain't it just as I say?" insistedJanoah Eldridge. "Argue as you will, what's the gain in it?"

  To the speaker's apparent disappointment, the citizen from Indiana didnot accept the challenge for argument but instead observed pleasantly:

  "I'll wager you will outlive all us city people, Mr. Eldridge."

  "Course I will," was the old man's confident retort. "I'll bea-sailin' in my dory when the whole lot of you motor-boat folks areunder the sod. You see if I ain't! An' speakin' of motor-boats,Willie--I s'pose you ain't done nothin toward tacklin' Zenas Henry'stribulations with that propeller, have you?"

  The question was unexpected, and Willie colored uncomfortably. He wasnot good at dissembling.

  "'Twould mean quite a bit of thinkin' to get Zenas Henry out of histroubles," returned he evasively. "'Tain't so simple as it looks."

  Moving abruptly to the work-bench he began to overturn at random thetools lying upon it.

  Something in this unusual proceeding arrested Jan's attention, causinghim to glance with suspicion from Robert Morton to the inventor, andfrom the inventor back to Robert Morton again. The elder man waswhistling "Tenting To-night," an air that had never been a favorite ofhis; and the younger, with self-conscious zeal, was shredding into bitsa long curl of shavings.

  Jan eyed both of them with distrust

  "I figger we're goin' to have a spell of fine weather now," remarkedWillie with jaunty artificiality.

  The offhand assertion was too casual to be real. Cloud and fog werenot dealt with in this cursory fashion in Wilton. It clinched Jan'sdoubts into certainty. Something was being kept from him, something ofwhich this stranger, who had only been in the town a few hours, wascognizant. For the first time in fifty years another had usurped hisplace as Willie's confidant. It was monstrous! A tremor of jealousrage thrilled through his frame, and he stiffened visibly.

  "I reckon I'll be joggin' along home," said he, moving with dignitytoward the door.

  "But you've only just come, Jan," protested Willie.

  "I didn't come fur nothin' but to leave this hammer," Jan answered,placing the implement on the long bench before which his friend wasstanding.

  "Maybe there was something you wanted to see Mr. Spence about,"ventured Bob. "If there was I will--"

  "No, there warn't," snapped Janoah. "Mister Spence ain't got nothin'confidential to say to me--whatever he may have to say to other folks,"and with this parting thrust he shot out of the door.

  Bob gave a low whistle.

  "What's the matter with the man?" he asked in amazement.

  Willie flushed apologetically.

  "Nothin'--nothin' in the world!" he answered. "Jan gets like thatsometimes. Don't you remember I told you he was kinder quick. It'sjust possible it may have bothered him to see me talkin' to you. Don'tmind him."

  "Do you think he suspected anything?"

  "Mercy, no! Not he!" responded Willie comfortably. "He's liable tofly off the handle like that a score of times a day. Don't you worry'bout him. He'll be back before the mornin's over."

  Nevertheless, sanguine as this prediction was, the hours wore on, andJanoah Eldridge failed to make his appearance. In the meantime Bob andWillie became so deeply engrossed in their new undertaking that theywere oblivious to his absence. They worked feverishly until noon,devoured a hurried meal, and returned to the shop again, there toresume their labors. By supper time they had made quite an encouragingstart on the model they required, their combined efforts havingaccomplished in a single day what it would have taken Willie many anhour to perfect.

  The inventor was jubilant.

  "Little I dreamed when you came to the front door, Bob, what I wasnettin'!" he exclaimed, clapping his hand vigorously on the young man'sshoulder. "You're a regular boat-builder, you are. The moon might 'a'pogeed an' perigeed before I'd 'a' got as fur along as we have to-day.How you've learned all you have about boats without ever goin' near thewater beats me. Now you ain't a-goin' to think of quittin' Wilton an'leavin' me high an' dry with this propeller idee, are you? 'Twould bea downright shabby trick."

  Bob smiled into the old man's anxious face.

  "I can't promise to see you to the finish for I must be back homebefore many days, or I'll have my whole family down on me. Besides, Ihave some business in New York to attend to," he said kindly. "But Iwill arrange to stick around until the job is so well under way thatyou won't need me. I am quite as interested in making the scheme asuccess as you are. All is you mustn't let me wear out my welcome andbe a burden to Aunt Tiny."

  "Law, Tiny'll admire to have you stay long as you can, if only becauseyou drag me into the house at meal time," chuckled Willie.

  "At least I can do that," Bob returned.

  "You can do that an' a durn sight more, youngster," the inventordeclared with earnestness. "I ain't had the pleasure I've had to-dayin all my life put together. To work with somebody as has learned theright way to go ahead--it's wonderful. When me an' Jan tackle a job,we generally begin at the wrong end of it an' blunder along, wastin'time an' string without limit. If we hit it right it's more luck thananything else."

  Robert Morton, watching the mobile face, saw a pitiful sadness stealinto the blue eyes. A sudden shame surged over him.

  "I ought to be able to do far more with my training than I have done,"he answered humbly. "Dad has given me every chance."

  "Think of it!" murmured Willie, scrutinizing him with hungering gaze."Think of havin' every chance to learn!"

  For an interval he smoked in silence.

  "Well," he asserted at length, "you've sure proved to-day that brainswith trainin' are better'n brains without. Now if Jan an' me--" hebroke off abruptly. "There! I wonder what in tunket's become of Jan,"he speculated. "We've been so busy that he went clean out of my mind.It's queer he didn't show up again. He ain't stayed away for a wholeday in all history. Mebbe he's took sick. I believe I'll trudge overthere an' find out what's got him. I mustn't go to neglectin' Jan,inventin' or no inventin'."

  He rose from his chair wearily.

  "I reckon a note would do as well, though, as goin' over," he presentlyremarked as an afterthought. "I could send one in the box an' ask himto drop round an' set a spell before bedtime."

  He caught up a piece of brown paper from the workbench, tore a raggedcorner from it, and hastily scrawled a message.

  Bob watched the process with amusement.

  "There!" announced the scribe when the epistle was finished. "I reckonthat'll fetch him. We'll put it in the box an' shoot it across to him."

  Notwithstanding the dash implied in the term, it took no small lengthof time for the diminutive receptacle to hitch its way through thefields. The two men watched it jiggle along above the bushes of wildroses, through verdant clumps of fragrant bayberry, and disappear intothe woods. Then they sat down to await Jan's appearance.

  The twilight was rarely beautiful. In a sky of palest turquoise acrescent moon hung low, its arc of silver poised above the tips of thestunted pines, whose feathery outlines loomed black in the dusk. Fromout the dimness the note of a vesper sparrow sounded and mingled itssweetness with the faintly breathing ocean.

  The men on the doorstep smoked silently, each absorbed in his ownreveries.

  How peaceful it was there in the stillness, with the hush of eveningdescending like a benediction on the darkening earth!

  Bob sighed with contentment. His year of hard study was over, and nowthat his well-earned rest had come he was surprised to discover howtired he was. Already the peace of Wilton was stealing over him, itsdreamy atmosphere almost too beautiful to be real. From where he sathe could see the trembling lights of the village jewelling the rim ofthe bay like a circlet of stars. A man might do worse, he reflected,than remain a few day
s in this sleepy little town. He liked Willie andCelestina, too; indeed, he would have been without a heart not to haveappreciated their simple kindliness. Why should he hurry home? Wouldnot his father rejoice should he be content to stay and make his aunt ashort visit? There was no need to bind himself for any definite lengthof time; he would merely drift and when he found himself becoming boredflee. To be sure, about the last thing he had intended when settingforth to the Cape was to linger there. He had come hither withunwilling feet solely to please his parents, and having paid hisrespects to his unknown relative he meant to depart West as speedily asdecency would permit, reasoning that it would be a mutual relief whenthe visit was over.

  But a single day in the cozy little house at the water's edge hadserved to convince him how erroneous had been his premises. Instead ofbeing tiresome, his Aunt Celestina was proving a delightfulacquisition, toward whom he already found himself cherishing a warmregard. And what a cook she was! After months of city food her bread,pies, and cookies were ambrosial.

  As for Willie--Bob had never before beheld so gentle, ingenuous andlovable a personality. Undoubtedly the little inventor had genius.What a pity he had been cheated of the opportunity for cultivating it!There was something pathetic in the way he reached out for theknowledge life had denied him; it reminded one of a patient child whoasks for water to slake his thirst.

  If, for some inscrutable reason, fortune had granted him, RobertMorton, the chance denied this groping soul, was it not almost anobligation that, in so far as he was able, he should place at theother's disposal the fruits of the education that had been his?

  Presumably this motor-boat idea would not amount to much, for if suchan invention were plausible and of value, doubtless a score of nauticalauthorities would have seized upon it long before now. But to work atthe plan would give the gentle dreamer in the silver-gray cottagehappiness, and after all happiness was not to be despised. If togetherhe and Willie could make tangible the notion that existed in thelatter's brain, the deed was certainly worth the doing. Moreover theprocess would be an entertaining one, and after its completion he mightgo away with a sense of having brightened at least one horizon by hiscoming.

  Thus reasoned Robert Morton as in the peace of that June evening hecasually shuffled the cards of fate, little suspecting that already afactor in his destiny stronger than any of his arguments was soon tomake its influence felt and transform Wilton into a magnet so powerfulthat against its spell he would be helpless as a child.

  He was aroused from his meditations by the voice of Willie.

  "Didn't you hear a little bell?" demanded the inventor. "A sort oftinklin' noise?"

  "I thought I did."

  "It's the box comin' from Jan's," explained he. "Can you kitch a sightof it?"

  "I see it now."

  Rising, the old man tugged at the string, urging the reluctantmessenger through the tangle of roses.

  "By his writin' a note, I figger he ain't comin' over," he remarked, asthe object drew nearer. "I wonder what's stuck in his crop! MebbeMis' Eldridge won't let him out. She's something of a Tartar--Arabellais. Jan has to walk the plank, I can tell you."

  By this time the cigar box swaying on the taut twine was within easyreach. Willie raised its cover and took from its interior a crumpledfragment of paper.

  "Humph! He's mighty savin'!" he commented as he turned the missiveover. "He's writ on the other side of my letter. Let's see what hehas to say:

  "'Can't come. Busy.'

  "Well, did you ever!" gasped he, blankly. "_Busy_! Good Lord! Jan'snever been known to be busy in all his life. He don't even know thefeelin'. If Janoah Eldridge is busy, all I've got to say is, theworld's goin' to be swallered up by another deluge."

  "Maybe, as you suggested, Mrs. Eldridge--"

  "Oh, if it had been Mis' Eldridge, he wouldn't 'a' took the trouble tosend no such message as that," broke in Willie. "He'd simply 'a' writ_Arabella_; there wouldn't 'a' been need fur more. No, sir!Somethin's stepped on Jan's shadder, an' to-morrow I'll have to gostraight over there an' find out what it is."