by Oliver Optic
"Five or six pounds."
"That's enough. Dress him, and cut him up to fry."
By the time the potatoes were cooked the fish was ready for the pan. The cook covered the pieces with Indian meal, and the dinner was soon ready. Bobtail had already set the table. He had put on plates, knives and forks, and glasses for two, a pitcher of water, a plate of pickles, and a dish of hard bread. The fish was placed on the casing of the centre-board, in the middle of the table, consisting of two leaves, which could be dropped down when not in use. Monkey was called, and the dinner proceeded in due form. The Darwinian did not seem to be quite so enthusiastic as at breakfast, perhaps because his table at home was oftener garnished with fish and salt pork than with any other food. However, he did ample justice to the bill of fare, and liberally praised the cook for his skill in the art.
While they were thus pleasantly engaged, they heard a slight bump against the side of the yacht, followed by the sound of voices. With the instinct of a genuine boatman, Bobtail rushed upon deck to assure himself that no harm befell the Skylark, when the other boat came alongside. He found that Prince, in the white sloop, had just put Captain Chinks on board, and had already shoved off. Bobtail looked at the captain, and thought he had taken a great deal of trouble to pay him this visit, for Prince had come about, and was standing up to the village. He felt as though he should now be called upon to give up the Skylark to her rightful owner.
"I'm glad to see you, Captain Chinks," exclaimed he; but what he said was rather complimentary than strictly true—a society fib.
"Won't you come below, and take some dinner with us?"
The captain had been to dinner, for it was now two o'clock in the afternoon, and he began to ask about the Skylark.
CHAPTER VII.
IN THE CABIN OF THE SKYLARK.
Little Bobtail was not particularly glad to see Captain Chinks when he boarded the Skylark, at her anchorage on the fishing-grounds. It seemed as though the captain had taken a great deal of trouble to come down several miles from the village, probably hiring Prince to put him alongside the yacht. Yet he could not help thinking that the slight uneasiness which disturbed him was very absurd. He had permitted himself to hope that the owner of the Skylark would not claim her, or, at least, would not claim her till he had the use of her for a season, the longer the better; but he felt that he had no right to hope any such thing. The yacht was a beautiful craft, and it was in the very height of the boating season. All his hopes, however, had been very vague, and were not founded on any reasonable basis. He had been considering the remotest of possibilities, rather than the slightest probabilities.
When Captain Chinks came on board, Bobtail felt that he had come to claim the yacht. According to the general "speech of people," this man of a doubtful reputation was, more likely than any other person in Camden, the owner of the twenty cases of brandy. If he claimed the yacht, he must claim the smuggled goods at the same time. Of course Bobtail would be expected to keep the secret, and thereby become a party to the fraud. He was not prepared for this issue. He did not want the confidence of any smuggler. Whatever his own views of the contraband trade, he would not break any law of the land himself, however leniently he was disposed to regard others who neglected to pay duties to the custom-house. He had always tried to be honest and upright, and he had a perfect horror of being anything else.
"How's this, Bobtail?" said Captain Chinks, casting his eyes about him, as if to examine the parts of the yacht. "This is a fine boat!"
"Tip-top, sir," replied the skipper, with proper enthusiasm.
"Some one up in the village said you picked her up adrift. Is that so?"
"That's so, Captain Chinks. I found her drifting out to sea, over near Blank Island. Does she belong to you, sir?"
"To me?" exclaimed the visitor, with a slight start, which did not escape the observation of Little Bobtail. "What makes you think she belongs to me?"
"I didn't say I thought so. I only asked you if she did. Captain Flipper, of the Islesboro' packet, said you might know something about her."
"What made him think I knew anything about her?"
"I don't know that he did think so; only he said you came over from Islesboro' with him this morning," Bobtail explained.
"What has that to do with it?"
"Nothing, that I know of. Captain Flipper said you knew about all the boats in these parts."
"O, that's the reason he said I might know about her?" added Captain Chinks, apparently relieved by the explanation.
"Yes, sir, I suppose so. Now, do you know anything about her?" asked the young skipper, forcing the question home.
"Possibly I have seen her. I don't know."
"Then she don't belong to you?"
"Why do you keep asking me that question, Bobtail? Do you think I own her?" demanded the captain, rather sharply.
"I don't think anything at all about it. I don't know. I can't tell by the looks of a man whether he owns this boat or not. I'm looking for her owner, and so I asked you the question."
"Well, I don't own her," said Captain Chinks, with more earnestness than Bobtail thought the occasion required; but he could not help suspecting, from his manner, that Captain Chinks knew something about the Skylark.
"Do you happen to know who does own her?" continued Bobtail.
"No, I don't know anything at all about her."
The Darwinian had left his dinner when Bobtail did, and had come as far as the companion-way, where he stood listening to the conversation which took place while the parties stood on deck. Captain Chinks had discovered Monkey's presence only a moment before, and it was possible that his decided answers were called forth by the fact that a third person was near.
"Won't you take a bite with us?" continued Bobtail, when he happened to remember that he had not finished his dinner.
"No; I had my dinner just before I came from home; but I will go below with you," replied Captain Chinks, following Bobtail into the cabin.
The skipper and Monkey resumed their places at the table, and finished the meal. While he was eating, Bobtail related all the particulars of the finding of the Skylark, so far as the boat was concerned, but prudently repressed all allusion to the twenty cases of brandy. Captain Chinks appeared to be nervous and uneasy, though, as he did not own the boat, and knew nothing at all about her, Bobtail could not see why he should be so. The dishes were cleared away, washed, and carefully deposited in the lockers. The cook-room was put in order, the cabin floor swept, and every article of furniture put in its place. Bobtail seated himself on the transom, opposite Captain Chinks, and wondered more than ever why he had taken so much trouble to visit the Skylark when she lay so far from the town.
"What do you suppose this boat is worth, Bobtail?" asked Captain Chinks, as he glanced forward and then aft, as if to survey the quality and capacity of the yacht.
"I'm sure I have no idea," replied the young skipper.
"They asked me twelve hundred dollars for one about this size in Newport last year," added the captain.
"That's a big price for a boat."
"But it was three hundred dollars less than she cost her owner two years before. This don't look like an old boat."
"No, she's nearly new. I looked into the run this morning, and the timbers and plank are as fresh as though she had just been built."
"I reckon she is a year or two old," added the captain. "She isn't worth less than a thousand dollars, though you may buy such a boat sometimes for half that money."
"Five hundred dollars is about all any boat of this size is worth down here."
"By the way, Bobtail, did she have any sort of a cargo in her when you picked her up?" asked Captain Chinks, in a careless way, as he raised and lowered the table-leaf in front of him, just as though he was more intent on ascertaining how the leaf worked than in obtaining an answer to his question.
This was a very important interrogatory on the part of the visitor, notwithstanding the indifference with which it had apparently b
een propounded; and Bobtail had been expecting it. In spite of all the captain had said, and in spite of the fact that he had declared he knew nothing about the Skylark, our hero could not help connecting his visitor with the contraband cargo; perhaps because the captain was the only man in Camden who had the reputation of being concerned in this sort of business.
"This is a pleasure craft, and wasn't built to carry cargo," replied Bobtail, who had already decided how to meet the question.
"That may be; but such boats do sometimes carry a small cargo. For instance, you could put many thousand dollars' worth of some kinds of goods in this cabin," added the captain, still fumbling over the table-leaf, which seemed to be an inexplicable mystery to him, though it may be added in defence of a man of his intelligence, and a boat-builder, too, that he always built keel-boats, while the Skylark was a centre-board.
"I dare say she could carry a million dollars' worth of gold or diamonds," added Bobtail, cheerfully, for he felt that his wily visitor was not getting much ahead of him.
"Yes; but she might carry heavier goods, such as cigars, liquors, silks, and things of that sort, for it don't take a great lot to be worth a thousand dollars. Did she have anything of this kind in her when you picked her up, Bobtail?"
"Why should any one think of carrying cigars and liquors in such a craft as this?" asked the skipper, laughing.
"That wan't exactly the question. I say, Monkey, won't you go on deck, and see which way the wind is," added the captain, turning suddenly upon the Darwinian, who was listening to the conversation with his mouth wide open, and trying with, all his might to discover what Chinks was driving at. "I reckon it's hauling more to the southward."
"Sartin; I'll see," replied Monkey, hastening on deck through the cook-room.
"You don't answer the question, Bobtail," said the captain.
"What makes you think there was any cargo in her?" demanded the skipper.
"I didn't say I thought there was any; I only asked you if there was."
In spite of Little Bobtail's indefinite opinions in regard to the moral turpitude of smuggling, he had very decided views on the subject of lying. He believed in telling the truth, though, like most other boys, I am afraid he did not invariably do so; but he always felt mean and guilty when he told anything in the shape of a lie. In the present instance he had made up his mind either to tell the truth or to keep still, not only because it was wicked to tell a lie, but because, in a smuggling case in which the government officers might soon have a hand, it might prove extremely dangerous.
"Well, captain, I didn't say there was any cargo in her," answered Bobtail, cautiously.
"I know you didn't; but I want you to tell me squarely whether there was or not."
"Why do you want me to tell you?"
"No matter why. I want you to tell me: that's all."
"The wind's about nor'-west, Captain Chinks," said Monkey, crawling into the cabin from the cook-room.
"It hasn't changed, then," added the visitor, vexed at the return of the Darwinian, who seated himself near Bobtail, intent upon hearing the rest of the conversation.
"No, sir, not a bit; it's been nor'-west all day, and I don't believe its goin' to change afore night."
"I say, Monkey, I want some fish for breakfast. If you will catch me two or three, and dress them, I'll make it all right with you."
Monkey did not like to lose any of the conversation about the boat; but he reluctantly went on deck in the hope of making a trifle by the job.
"I want you to answer my question squarely, Bobtail," continued Captain Chinks, returning vigorously to the charge, so vigorously that the skipper was almost confirmed in his suspicion connecting his visitor with the contraband cargo.
"I don't say there was or was not any cargo in her," replied Bobtail.
"But I want you to say," persisted the captain, sharply and sternly.
"Do you own this yacht, Captain Chinks?"
"I don't say whether I own her or not."
"And I don't say whether there was any cargo in her or not."
"What do you mean, Bobtail?"
"That depends upon what you mean, Captain Chinks."
"I don't understand you, Bobtail," said the visitor, struggling to suppress his anger.
"That's just my trouble; I don't understand you," laughed the skipper. "I reckon we don't understand each other at all."
"I asked you a question, Bobtail, and I want an answer," added the captain, bringing his fist down upon the table-leaf, whose mysterious mechanism he had by this time fully mastered.
"I asked you a question, Captain Chinks, and I want an answer," replied Bobtail.
"I don't want any of your impudence, and I won't take any of it."
"I didn't mean to be impudent, sir."
"But you talk to me just as though I was a boy like yourself. Now, answer my question."
"I hope you will excuse me, sir, when I say I can't answer it. I mean to be respectful, sir."
"You can answer it, Bobtail."
"I mean that, for certain reasons, I must decline to answer it."
"You must, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"I didn't think this of you, Bobtail. This morning I got you out of a bad scrape. If I hadn't done so, you would have been taken up for stealing that letter, which contained five hundred dollars. Now, you go back on me the same day," added the captain, more gently.
"I don't go back on you, sir. If you own this boat, I'll tell you all I know about her."
"I don't say that I own her."
"I know you don't say so; and for that reason I can't say anything more about her. You only told the truth about the letter."
"But I might have held my tongue, and I'm sorry now I didn't."
After this speech, Little Bobtail had no doubt that Captain Chinks was a bad man, and he felt the necessity of extreme caution in dealing with him.
"I don't see how you could keep still when Squire Gilfilian asked you the question," added Bobtail, in his simplicity.
"If I had done by you as you are doing by me when I ask you a question, I should have kept still, as you do."
"But I don't want to get any one into a scrape," pleaded the skipper.
"What do you mean by that? I only ask you to tell the truth, as I did for you this morning," said the captain, in a coaxing tone.
"Squire Gilfilian owned that letter, and he had a right to ask about it. If you say you own this boat, I shall feel that I am perfectly safe in answering your questions."
"Perfectly safe! Then of course there was a cargo in her," added the visitor.
"I don't say there was. Have you lost a cargo, Captain Chinks?"
The captain mused. To say that he had lost a cargo would be to acknowledge that he was a smuggler, and he could not trust the secret to a boy like Little Bobtail, who had the reputation of being an honest and truthful boy. If called upon to give evidence, the boy would tell the whole truth. He would rather lose both the cargo and the boat than be convicted of smuggling.
"If there was no cargo in her, you would say so, Bobtail; so I have no doubt there was a cargo in her," continued Captain Clunks, after a silence of a few moments. "I take it for granted there was some sort of goods in her."
"What makes you think so, sir?"
"I have a notion of my own on that subject. If I'm not greatly mistaken, I saw this boat down to Bar Harbor. My idea is, that she went out to sea somewhere, and took a lot of goods from some fishing vessel, and tried to run them up to Camden, or some other port. I don't say it is so, but it might be. Very likely some of those custom-house officers got wind of the affair, and were on the lookout for the boat. Very likely the men in charge of her abandoned her, and cleared out to save themselves."
"I wonder if they went over to Camden in the Islesboro' packet this morning," suggested Bobtail, innocently.
"What do you mean, you young villain!" cried Captain Chinks, springing forward over the table, and seizing the skipper by the throat. "Do
you mean to say I'm one of them?"
"Let me alone!" yelled Bobtail, struggling to shake off the hard gripe of the visitor.
Our hero had a hard fist, if it was a small one, and he used it vigorously upon the head and face of his assailant. He pounded so hard that the captain, holding him at a disadvantage across the table and centre-board, was compelled to release his hold.
"I am not to be trifled with," gasped Captain Chinks, panting from his exertions, and smarting from the heavy blows which Bobtail had inflicted upon his face.
"Nor I, either!" yelled the skipper, seizing a spare tiller which lay on the transom. "If you put your finger on me again, I'll break your head!"
"What's the row?" shouted Monkey, rushing down into the cabin, his round eyes distended to their utmost.
"I don't let anybody take me by the throat," replied Bobtail, shaking his head, and adjusting his shirt collar at the same time.
"It's all right now, Monkey, go and catch your fish," added Captain Chinks, mildly, feeling that his wrath had got the better of him, and induced him to commit an imprudent act.
"It won't be all right if you put your hand on me again," said Bobtail, still holding the spare tiller in his hand.
"You knew that I came over in the Islesboro' packet this morning."
"I wasn't thinking of you when I spoke," muttered Bobtail, who for the first time saw the force of the suggestion he had made.
"I was only supposing a case," said the captain.
"What? when you caught me by the throat? I don't want you to suppose any more cases, then."
"I won't, Bobtail. Perhaps the men had run the boat ashore, and were looking for a place to hide the goods, when the wind blew her off, and sent her adrift."
"Perhaps it was so; I don't know," answered the skipper, coldly.
"If she had a cargo in her, what have you done with it?"
"I didn't say she had any cargo, and I'm not going to say anything more about it till the owner claims the boat. That's the end of it."
Little Bobtail rose from the transom, and walked towards the companion-way. Captain Chinks looked very savage. He was evidently in a dilemma, from which he could not extricate himself.
