“Takin’ nothing!” interrupted the old man vehemently. “Didn’t you keep my horses from eating their heads off all year, and keep my trade from goin’ to some one else fer good? Besides, I can’t catch lobsters any more. Doc says that messin’ in the water’s bad for my rheumatiz. Goin’ to give up the hut after this year anyway; so if you want to stay and take it, you’re more’n welcome.”
They discussed the matter all the evening, until Simon got up to go to bed, and his daughter withdrew to her room which Desiré was to share. To Jack fell the big sofa in the living room. He and Desiré sat on beside the fire for a few minutes after they were left alone.
“What do you think of it, Dissy? Shall I take it or not?”
“I hardly know what to say; but there’s no reason I can think of why you shouldn’t, if it looks good to you.”
“Of course I have no other immediate prospects; but it would be rough and lonesome for you, I’m afraid—”
“Lonesome, with you around? As for being rough, it will be fun to try a different way of living for a few weeks.”
Secretly Desiré rather longed for the coziness of the Godet house, but she thought Jack felt he should make the most of every opportunity for earning money, and she wanted to make things as easy for him as possible.
The next morning, with a big basket of lunch in the back of the wagon, they all drove down to the hut, René wild with excitement. An hour’s drive brought them to the bleak, deserted coast. Nothing but sand, jagged rocks, coarse grass, and scattered huts met their eyes. They left the team just off the road beside a clump of juniper, and crossed the sand to the hut. When Simon unlocked the door, the interior seemed to be a jumble of lumber.
“Get all these pots out in a jiffy,” he said, picking up a couple of crate-like objects and depositing them outside.
They all helped, and soon the pots were piled up beside the hut.
The rooms were tiny, only two in number, a bedroom and a general room; and the furniture was scanty.
“You can’t possibly live here, Dissy,” whispered Jack.
“Go on and learn how to catch the beasts, and I’ll attend to the house,” she replied with forced cheeriness.
So Mrs. Chaisson and Desiré cleaned and set in perfect order the tiny wooden building, while Simon taught Jack how to make and repair lobster pots. They look like oblong crates, and are made of narrow strips of wood bent into a semi-circle and nailed onto a board. A couple of holes are left for the lobsters to crawl in, and the whole is lined with coarse net, and weighted with heavy stones.
At noon they spread the lunch on a huge flat boulder on the beach.
“Lots nicer than an old table,” René pronounced it.
“You’ll have no trouble in roughing it as far as he’s concerned,” laughed Mrs. Chaisson.
“No; he’s usually satisfied with what he has,” replied Desiré.
“No, I ain’t,” contradicted the child.
“Why, Renny,” said Jack in surprise.
“Well, Dissy said I was satisfied, and I ain’t. I want a dog.”
“Maybe when we go home you can have one,” said Jack, adding to Desiré, “It wouldn’t be a bad plan at all, if we stay in Wolfville.”
René, as happy as if the desired pet were to be forthcoming on the morrow, returned to his play in the sand.
“Now,” said Simon, when all traces of lunch had been cleared up, “we’ll all paint markers.”
The long stakes with big wooden knobs on the top were weather beaten, and their bands of orange and green were dim. Each fisherman has a different kind of marker, and sets one up beside each pot after it is sunk beneath the water. They serve two purposes: mark the place where the pot is located, and notify other fishermen of their ownership. It is a serious matter for anyone to touch lobsters guarded by the markers of another person. It is interesting to note the numberless varieties of color combinations, styles of banding, and shapes of knobs.
It was a tired crowd of workers that returned to Yarmouth that evening; for although everything was ready in the hut for the new occupants, Mrs. Chaisson insisted upon their going back for “one more really comfortable sleep” as she expressed it.
“How do we get back and forth from the huts?” inquired Desiré, the following morning.
“I’ll take ye out,” answered Simon, “and when you want to come in, you’ll have to walk until you meet somebody who’s goin’ your way and who will give you a lift.”
Jack wrote to the judge, telling him of their plans and probable delay; both he and Desiré wrote short notes to Priscilla; and before noon they were settled in their temporary home, Desiré helping Jack get the lobster pots ready to sink, while René lay at full length in the sand poking at a jellyfish. None of them saw a figure walk along the road, stop, watch for a while, then move silently across the grass and along the sand until it stood directly back of the workers.
CHAPTER XXV
LOBSTER POTS
“What are you doing with those?” demanded a rough voice so suddenly that Desiré dropped the marker she held, and gave a little scream, while René rolled over and lay with his head on the unfortunate jellyfish. Jack, the only cool person of the group, replied quietly, “Getting them ready to sink.”
“You get yourself ready to go along with me. These belong to Simon Denard, and you’ve no right to touch ’em. So come along.”
The man laid a heavy hand on Jack’s arm, and attempted to jerk him off somewhere.
“I know they belong to Simon,” replied Jack. “We’re friends of his, and he has lent us the place for a few weeks. We’re going to live here, my sister and I.” Jack gazed calmly into the dark, determined face and keen black eyes confronting him.
Desiré was too frightened to utter a word, and stood at her brother’s other side, holding fast to his coat. René suddenly recovered his voice and began to cry.
“Hush your noise!” ordered the man, without turning his head; and so great was the child’s astonishment that he really did stop.
“There’s no need of getting excited about this,” said Jack. “You can easily prove that I’m telling the truth if you’ll ask Mrs. Chaisson, Simon’s daughter, and—”
“I’ve no time to be running to Yarmouth; and it’s a likely story anyway,” answered the man shortly.
None of them saw René get up and run toward the road, where he saw a man passing by; so when he now hurried across the sand as fast as his short legs could move, dragging his captive by the arm, they all looked up in astonishment.
“Hullo!” cried the newcomer, “what’s the matter here, Marvine?”
“The young fellow claims old Simon lent him the outfit. Did you ever hear—”
“Maybe he did,” interrupted the other man indifferently, his blue eyes roaming from one face to another. “Saw all these folks here yesterday with the old man and his daughter.”
“Did, eh? Well, maybe it’s as he says then,” letting go of Jack’s arm as he spoke. “How’d you happen to be stopping here?”
“The kid dragged me off the road saying someone was going to carry away his brother.”
“Well,” said the man called Marvine, turning to Jack and Desiré, “sorry to have bothered you. No harm meant. Was only looking out for Simon’s things.”
“Quite all right,” replied Jack. “I suppose you do have to be careful.”
The two strangers strode out to the road again without further farewell, and were soon lost to sight. Desiré sank down on the sand as if she could not stand another minute.
“I’m most awfully sorry you were so frightened, dear,” said Jack, sitting down beside her and taking her hand in his, while René piled on top of his brother, crying exultantly, “I saved you, Jack; didn’t I?”
Desiré soon recovered her composure and got up to continue her work; but although he did not comment on the fact, Jack saw that her hands were still a bit shaky. Presently he suggested—“Hadn’t you better go in and start supper, Dissy? René can h
elp me finish here.”
“Sure,” agreed the small boy importantly. “I can help Jack.”
Desiré went in, and the two boys sank the pots and set the markers, Jack of course doing most of the work, but René fully convinced that his brother could never have managed without his aid.
“There are some other pots right next to where Simon told me to put ours,” observed Jack, as they were finishing supper.
René was so sleepy that he had left the table and curled himself up in an old rocker to take a nap.
“Oh, I do hope that they don’t belong to either of those awful men who were here this afternoon,” said Desiré with a shudder.
“They’re rough, of course, but they weren’t really so bad, Desiré. They have to protect their interests, and of course were looking after Simon’s. I hardly think, though, that either of them is our next-door neighbor. The hut beyond here looks deserted, but the pots and markers are there all right.”
Desiré took the tiny bedroom, and the boys had a couple of cots in the other room. Everybody was tired out with the unaccustomed work and excitement, and slept heavily until far later than usual. Jack, who was the first to waken, looked across at the other cot to see if René was still asleep, and was astonished to see that the cot was empty.
“Now where is that rascal?” he thought, crossing the room to the outside door, which was ajar.
He glanced out and saw his brother calmly playing in the sand a short distance from the hut.
“Don’t go any farther away, Renny,” he called softly, hoping not to disturb Desiré.
“No,” replied the child, vigorously slapping the sand into shape.
“What’s the matter?” called Desiré, who had wakened instantly at the sound of his voice.
“Nothing at all. Renny got up ahead of us and went out to play in the sand. He’s quite all right.”
“But what time is it?”
“You’d never guess. It’s eight o’clock.”
“Why, Jack, how dreadful!”
“Not at all; it’s quite all right. There’s nothing to hurry us here. Take your time. I’ll set the coffee on.”
“We’re certainly fashionable folk this morning,” laughed Desiré when, half an hour later, the three sat down to breakfast. “Renny, your feet are all wet,” as the child’s foot touched her under the table. “Let me see.”
“No!”
“René,” ordered Jack, “turn and stick your feet out.”
Slowly, most reluctantly, the boy obeyed; and Desiré exclaimed with dismay. He was wet to the waist. Their backs had been turned when he came in, and he had slid into his place at the table with all possible haste.
“How did you get like that?” asked Jack, but René only hung his head.
“Answer me, Renny.”
“Went in the water.”
“But haven’t I told you never to go into the water alone?”
The child nodded.
“You’ll have to go back to bed,” decreed his brother sternly, getting up from the table. “Sit still,” he directed Desiré. “I’ll attend to him.”
“Hadn’t you better put him in my room?” she asked.
“If you don’t mind,” replied Jack, leading the reluctant youngster from the room.
After a short interval he returned to resume his interrupted breakfast, saying as he sat down, “After we finish I’ll take him something. It will do him no harm to wait a while. He’s certainly always getting into difficulties.”
“But it’s quite a while now since he has done anything really bad,” objected Desiré; “and he loves the water so, it must be quite a temptation.”
“I know, but his going in like this by himself might result in serious consequences; and I intend to keep him in bed most of the day. But you don’t need to stay in the house all the time. He’s perfectly safe here alone, and I’m sure he won’t get up without permission. I laid heavy penalties on such a procedure.”
At this point there was a sharp knock at the door, and when Jack opened it, a short, grey-bearded man stood before them. Not liking the look in the stranger’s eyes, Desiré crossed the room and stood beside her brother. Were all the people they were to meet on this venture undesirable? How she wished they had never heard of the lobster business!
CHAPTER XXVI
HANDS OFF!
“Good morning,” said Jack pleasantly, but looking questioningly at their caller.
“I’ve a serious charge to make,” answered the newcomer, without returning the greeting. “You’ve been trying to steal my lobsters. You know the penalty for that trick!”
“I most certainly have not done any such thing,” said Jack decidedly, while Desiré twisted her hands in dismay.
“No use denying it; I can prove it. Mine are right next to yours, and some of my markers have been pulled up and yours put in. Come out and see for yourself.”
Jack and Desiré followed the man quickly across the sand to the water.
“See? Here are five of my markers hidden under this old crate on your property, and five of your markers replacing those near-shore pots of mine. Facts don’t lie if folks do.”
“My brother never lies!” cried Desiré angrily. Jack had never heard her speak like that.
“Easy, Dissy,” he said softly.
“I certainly admit that it looks bad,” he said to the man; “but since I know the rules governing these things, I should hardly have been fool enough to do such a thing even if I had been so lacking in principle; and—”
“Jack!” interrupted Desiré. “René! Could a small boy have done this?” she asked, facing their neighbor eagerly.
“Might; early in the morning, before the tide came in so far.”
“Jack, go and get him and we’ll see if he knows anything about it.”
While Jack was gone, Desiré explained to the man their presence in old Simon’s hut, and her reasons for suspecting that her younger brother had been responsible for the morning’s difficulties. Soon Jack returned, and led René directly to the man, who regarded him gravely.
“Tell this man, René,” directed his brother, “just exactly what you did when you were out here alone on the beach early this morning.”
“Pulled up dirty old markers and hid ’em, and pushed down nice ones we painted.”
René was obviously rather proud of his achievement, and quite puzzled as to the serious manner of his elders.
“Why did you do that?” asked the man, the suggestion of a twinkle appearing in his blue eyes.
“Wanted Jack’s lobster bed to look nice.”
“But those weren’t his; they were mine.”
“Everything’s Jack’s!”
Their neighbor smiled, and held out his hand to Jack.
“My mistake,” he said. “I didn’t know what a grasping partner you had.”
“He means well, but makes trouble sometimes. Take him back to bed; will you, Dissy?”
While Desiré put the little boy in bed again, and tried to impress upon him the seriousness of his mistake, Jack and his neighbor worked amiably side by side.
The days passed quickly, one very much like all the others which had preceded it; and at last they found themselves on the train, bound for home, with a fair sum of money in return for several weeks of hard work.
CHAPTER XXVII
JACK’S JOBS
The summer days which followed were delightful ones. Priscilla reminded Jack of his promise to help her make a garden; so he worked hard, clearing the ground back of the cabin, and spading up beds under her directions. She planted very carefully the seeds given her by Madam Lovemore, and waited impatiently for the first bits of green to appear.
“Guess while I’m at it, I’ll make a vegetable garden too,” announced Jack, after he had finished the flower beds. “A bit late, perhaps, but we’ll get something out of it.”
“A good idea,” approved Desiré. “I’ll help you.”
She caught up the rake and followed him to the end
of the property.
“I love to work out-of-doors,” she said, “and after you get a job I can attend to the vegetables while Prissy takes care of her flowers.”
“An’ I ain’t got nuthin’ to take care of,” sighed René, feeling that he had been left out of all these new plans.
“Should you like a garden, darling?” asked Desiré, her sympathy immediately aroused by his mournful tones.
“No, no old garden. Want a dog to take care of; ’n’ Jack promised me one, too.”
Desiré glanced up at her older brother who was leaning on his spade figuring out just where he would begin to dig.
“You did promise him, Jack, or practically so,” she said.
“No chance of being allowed to forget anything in this family,” he smiled. “I’ll see what I can do for you, René.”
The next day Jack went up alone to see Judge Herbine. “Don’t worry if I don’t show up for dinner,” he said to Desiré before leaving. “The judge told me yesterday that he had heard of two or three places where I might get a job, and to come up and see him today. I’ll keep going until I’ve investigated all the possibilities.”
“All right, dear; and the best of luck.”
They had had many talks on the drive to Yarmouth, and on the beach in front of the hut, as to the advisability of remaining in the Godet house.
“It’s simply living from hand to month,” Jack had said gravely; “but there seems to be nothing else in sight just now.”
“Even so, we’re certainly some better off than we should have been in Sissiboo,” Desiré said consolingly.
“But what would you do,” suggested Jack, “if somebody came along and wanted the cabin some day?”
“Let them have it, if they could prove they owned it; but Judge Herbine seems to think such a thing most unlikely. He said, you know, that they couldn’t get a clear title when that American wanted to buy it. But why, Jack, does somebody want it now?”
“No, not that I know of; but one can never tell what might happen. The bus line will run along the main road past our lane this summer, I understand; and some tourist might take a fancy to the little cabin and want to buy it. I suppose if enough money were spent on a search, it might be possible to establish the title; or someone who wanted it badly enough might be willing to take a chance. I don’t mean to worry you unduly, Desiré, but we mustn’t get so attached to the place that having to give it up sometime will come as a great shock.”
The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 54
