The Rival Campers Afloat; or, The Prize Yacht Viking

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XI. SQUIRE BRACKETT IS PUZZLED

  Henry Burns was up early the next morning, as he had planned. He rowedthe dory quickly in to the landing-place, and was in Harvey's room beforethat young gentleman was out of bed.

  "Why, I didn't hear you get up," said Harvey.

  "That's not so surprising," replied Henry Burns, "seeing as I got upaboard the _Viking_. I slept there."

  "Is that so?" exclaimed Harvey. "I wonder how Mr. Carleton would likethat if he knew it. He needn't have hired so big a room just for me. Say,but he's a jolly good fellow, though, isn't he?"

  "He is certainly a generous one," answered Henry Burns.

  Harvey smiled at his companion.

  "What is it you don't like about him, Henry?" he asked.

  "Why, nothing," replied Henry Burns. "Who said I didn't like him? I neverdid."

  "No, you didn't," admitted Harvey. "But I know you well enough by thistime to tell when you really like a person. Now, if I asked you if youlike George Warren, you'd come out plump and flat and swear he is a finechap, and all that. But you don't seem quite sure about Mr. Carleton. Ithink he's the best man that ever came down here. He likes to have a goodtime with us boys--which is more than most men do; he enters into things;he buys everything, and he tells good stories. What fault do you findwith him?"

  "Not any," laughed Henry Burns. "He's everything you say he is, and Ithink he is one of the most generous men I ever met. There, don't thatsatisfy you? But I'll tell you one thing, Jack. I was just thinking Ishouldn't want to be in Mr. Carleton's way if he had made up his mind todo a certain thing. He's the kind of a man that wouldn't be interferedwith when once he was decided."

  "How do you make that out?" asked Harvey.

  "Oh, just by a lot of little things," answered Henry Burns, "not any ofthem of any particular consequence of themselves. By the way, do youremember inviting him to sail down the river?"

  "Why, not exactly," replied Harvey, somewhat puzzled.

  "Well, you didn't," said Henry Burns, laughing quietly. "He invitedhimself. He said, 'I'll sail down with you,' or 'I'll go along with you,'or something of that sort.

  "And do you remember inviting him to go out sailing on this trip?"continued Henry Burns.

  "No," replied Harvey, a little impatiently.

  "That's because he invited himself," said Henry Burns, still smiling. "Iremember that he said, 'I'll go out sailing with you to-morrow.' Thatsettled it in his mind."

  "Well, what of it?" asked Harvey.

  "Nothing," replied Henry Burns. "I'm just as glad as you are that heproposed it. I've enjoyed his company and his generosity. I only say heis a man that I'd rather have for a friend than an enemy."

  Jack Harvey laughed.

  "Well, you may be right," he said. "I never think of looking at anybodyas deep as that. If a man comes along and wants a sail and wants somefun, and is willing to do his share, why, that's enough for me. And ifhe's up to any tricks, why, he and I'll fight and have it over with. Idon't worry about what might happen."

  "Did you ever see me worry about anything?" asked Henry Burns.

  "Why, no," said Harvey, emphatically, "I never did. I meant that I don'tthink about things just as you do."

  Which was certainly true.

  If Mr. Carleton had any notion in his head that he had, as Harvey hadsuggested, hired a larger room for him and Henry Burns than was reallyneeded--or if he had any notion in his head that he had wasted his moneyin hiring any rooms at all at the hotel--he showed no sign of it when heappeared in the office and they went into the dining-room. Indeed, hethought it a good joke on Henry Burns that he should have had to go offto the yacht for the night, and he laughed very heartily over it, behindhis big moustache.

  The wind was blowing fresh from the south as the party went out on thehotel piazza. It had started up early in the morning, along with thebeginning of the flood-tide, which meant, in all likelihood, that itwould blow fresher from now on until sundown. There were alreadywhitecaps to be seen over all the bay, and the yachts that were out undersail were lying over to it and throwing the spray smartly. It was a goodmorning to show the fine sailing qualities of a boat, and they were eagerto be off.

  They went down through the town, then, to where the dory was tied.

  As they took hold to drag it down the beach, a fisherman, weather-beaten,and smoking a short stub of a clay pipe, approached them. Addressing Mr.Carleton, he said, good-naturedly, "Well, you got out and back safe, Isee. Found your own boat again all right, eh?"

  Mr. Carleton, glancing coolly at the man that had accommodated him thenight before, said, carelessly, "Guess you've got the advantage of me,captain. I'm afraid I haven't the pleasure of your acquaintance."

  The man slowly removed his pipe and stared at Mr. Carleton in amazement.

  "Wall, I swear!" he ejaculated. "D'yer mean to say it wasn't you thatborrowed my skiff last night to go out to your yacht?"

  Mr. Carleton laughed heartily.

  "Well," he replied, "seeing as I haven't any yacht to go out to, in thefirst place, and seeing as I was up at the hotel all last night, I thinkyou must indeed have me mixed up in your mind with somebody else.However, if anybody has been using my name around here to hire a boat,I'm willing to pay, if you're a loser."

  "Oh, no, sir," said the man, apologetically. "I don't want no pay. I justaccommodated somebody, and it looked surprisingly like you. Excuse me.Guess I must have made a mistake."

  "Ho! that's all right, no excuse needed," said Mr. Carleton, lightly."You're going to row us out, are you, Harvey? Well, I'll push her off andsit down astern. I'm the heaviest."

  They rowed out to where the _Viking_ was tossing uneasily at her line, asthough eager to be free and away from the lee of the land, amid thetumbling waves.

  It was quite rough outside, and the wind increasing every minute; so theyput a reef in the mainsail and set only the forestaysail and a singlejib. Then, with anchor fished, they were quickly in the midst of roughweather, with the spume flying aboard in a way that sent them scuttlingbelow for their oilskins.

  The harbour out of which they were now beating made inland for a mile ortwo. The waters ran back thence in a salt river for several miles more,before they grew brackish, and then were merged into a stream of freshwater that had its origin in a pond back in the country. It followed,that the waters of the harbour flowed in and out with much swiftness andstrength; and now, the flood-tide and the south wind being coincident,coming in together strongly, it was slow working out, even with as good aboat as the _Viking_. There was a heavy sea running, too, which served tobeat them back. They tacked to and fro, but they drew ahead of thelandmarks ashore very slowly.

  "I say, my lad," cried Mr. Carleton all at once, stepping aft to whereHarvey held the wheel, "let me take her a few minutes and see what I cando, will you? Oh, you needn't be afraid that I'll upset you," he added,as Harvey somewhat reluctantly complied. "I've owned boats and sailedthem, too,--as good as this one, if I do say it."

  It was clearly evident, as he seated himself astride the helmsman's seat,that he was no novice. He held the yacht with a practised hand, and,moreover, asserted himself with the rights of skipper.

  "Haul in on that main-sheet a little more," he said to Harvey.

  "She won't do as well with the boom so close aft in a heavy sea," repliedHarvey.

  "Oh, yes, she will," answered Mr. Carleton, coolly. "You are right as ageneral proposition, but I'll show you something. I've been watching therun of the tide."

  Harvey, not agreeing, still acquiesced in the order, and hauled the boomaft.

  "A little more," insisted Mr. Carleton. "There, that will do. Now youwill see us fetch out of the harbour."

  To Harvey's surprise, and that of the other boys, the yacht certainly wasdoing better. Mr. Carleton held her so close into the wind that the sailalmost shook. Every now and then it quivered slightly. But they surelywere making better progress.

  "
Well," admitted Harvey at length, "that goes against what I've beentaught about sailing. The sheet a little off in a heavy sea and keep herunder good headway is Captain Sam's rule."

  "Quite correct," said Mr. Carleton, smiling. "But, if you notice, thetide sets swift around that point ahead and we get the full force of it.Now, with the boat heading off as you had it, don't you see we weregetting the head wind and head tide both on the same side--both hittingthe port bow and throwing her back? Now, do you see what we are doing?She's heading up into the wind so far that the force of the tide hits thestarboard bow. So we've got the wind on one side and the tide on theother; and, between the two forces, we go ahead."

  Harvey's respect rose for Mr. Carleton.

  "That's right," he said. "I've heard something of that kind, too. But Inever thought much about it."

  "Well, the tide is three-fourths of sailing," responded Mr. Carleton."Now as we clear this point we'll start the sheet off once more a little.It's rougher, and we'll need all the headway we can make."

  It was evident Mr. Carleton was no hotel piazza sailor. He was as happyas a boy out of school, as he held the wheel with a firm, strong hand,heading up for the deep rollers and pointing off again quickly, keepingthe yacht under good headway, and watching the water ahead, and thedrawing of the jib, with a practised eye. They had never seen him soenthusiastic.

  He was, somehow, a picture of particular interest to Henry Burns, who hada way of observing how persons did things, and who conceived someimpression of them accordingly, beyond a mere surface one.

  It being a fact, to a degree, that a boat has as many peculiarities--onemight almost say individualities--all its own as a human being, or ahorse, it was interesting to see how quickly Mr. Carleton took note ofthem and handled his boat accordingly. He seemed to realize at once justhow she would take the wind; how stiffly she would stand up in a flaw;just how much the jib and forestaysail needed trimming to be at theirbest; just how to humour the boat in several little ways to get the mostout of her. And he did it all very confidently.

  That he was a man of sharp discernment, and quick to learn things, wasthe impression he made on Henry Burns. And if there should come a timewhen Henry Burns, remembering many things which he now observed, butattached no particular importance to, should put them all together andform a conclusion regarding them and of Mr. Carleton, why certainly therewas nought of that in his mind now.

  He did observe one thing, however, in particular, and it was in accordwith what he had told Harvey concerning Mr. Carleton. The man hadaggressiveness and determination. Mr. Carleton surely believed in holdinga boat down to its work. There was no timidity, even to a point thatbordered on recklessness, in the way he met the heavier buffetings of thewind. Where a more cautious man would have luffed and spilled a little ofthe wind, Mr. Carleton held the wheel firm and let the _Viking_ heel overand take it, seeming to know she would go through all right; as though heshould say, "You can stand it. Now let's see you do it. I'll not indulgeyou. I know what you can stand. You can't fool me."

  Henry Burns rather liked him for this. There was something that headmired in his skill and courage.

  The yacht _Viking_ was weathering the seas grandly. She was a boat thatdid not bury deep in a smother, and flounder about and pound hard andlose headway, but rode the waves lightly and went easily to windward.

  "Works well, doesn't she?" cried Harvey, enthusiastically.

  "Splendid, better than ever--better than she did coming down the river,and yesterday," responded Mr. Carleton. "She'd almost stand agaff-topsail even with this breeze. That's a good clean stick, thattopmast. However, I guess we're doing well enough. We won't set it, eh?"

  "Here, you take the wheel," he said the next moment to Henry Burns, whomhe had observed eying him sharply. "Let's see what kind of a sailor youare."

  One might have thought it was Mr. Carleton's own boat. He said it withsuch an air.

  Henry Burns acquiesced calmly and with that confidence he had when heknew he could do a thing right. Here was another individual who couldlearn things quickly, too; and if Harvey had had more experience than hein actual sailing and handling a boat, Henry Burns more than matched himin coolness and resource.

  "You'll do," said Mr. Carleton at length. "I'll risk my life with you andHarvey any day. How's the crew--are they pretty good sailors, too?"

  "First class," said Henry Burns. "We'll show you there isn't a lubberaboard." And he turned the wheel over first to Tom and then to Bob, whoacquitted themselves very creditably, showing they had picked up theknowledge of sailing wonderfully well.

  "Good!" exclaimed Mr. Carleton. "That's the way to run a boat. Give everyman a chance to get the hang of it. One never knows what's going tohappen to a sailboat and who's going overboard, or get tangled up in asheet, or something the matter; and then it pays to have a crew any oneof whom can take hold at a moment's notice and lend a hand."

  So, having established himself in their confidence, and with mutual goodfeeling aboard, Mr. Carleton declared himself well pleased with theirtrip, as they beat up to Southport harbour. He hadn't enjoyed himself somuch in years, he said. And he thanked them cordially for his good time,as they rowed him ashore.

  "We're much obliged to you, too," replied Harvey, "for the fun you'vegiven us."

  "Oh, that don't amount to anything," said Mr. Carleton.

  Mr. Carleton, oddly enough, had occasion to make Henry Burns and JackHarvey an apology not many hours afterward.

  The afternoon and evening had passed, and the two yachtsmen, leavingTom and Bob to spend the night ashore in their tent, had gone outaboard the _Viking_. They had sat up reading until about half-past teno'clock,--rather later than usual,--when a most unexpected visitorappeared. It was none other than Mr. Carleton, rowing alongside in asmall rowboat belonging to Captain Sam. He made this fast now and climbedaboard.

  "Really this is imposing on your hospitality," he said, appearing at thecompanionway. "But the fact is, I'm in a bit of a scrape. I've left mykey in another pair of trousers in Captain Curtis's house, and the dooris locked there, and they're evidently all fast asleep, as it's gettingon to eleven. I hated to wake them up, so I came down on the point andlooked in at your friends' tent. They were sleeping like good fellows,too, and I couldn't see any extra blanket to roll up in. Then I spiedyour light out aboard here. Do you think you can spare me a bunk and ablanket for a night?"

  "We'll be only too glad to return your favour of last night," repliedHenry Burns.

  "Though you didn't make use of it yourself, eh," said Mr. Carleton,smiling.

  They were off to sleep then in short order, Henry Burns and Harveyoccupying the cushioned berths amidships, and their guest one of the samejust forward, where Tom or Bob usually slept.

  There was really nothing of consequence occurring in the night, to berecorded, except a slight incident that showed Mr. Carleton to be a badsleeper.

  Perhaps it was the strange quarters he was in that made him restless, sothat he lay for an hour or two listening to the deep breathing of theboys, himself wide awake. Yet he was considerate, was Mr. Carleton, andmade no move to arouse them.

  Even when he sat up, after a time, and threw the blanket off, and lit amatch under the cover of the blanket to read the face of his watch by, hedid it very softly. Perhaps, even then, he was solicitous lest theirsleep be disturbed; for he stole quietly along to where they lay, andmade sure he had not aroused them.

  By and by, Mr. Carleton made another move. Taking the blanket that hadcovered him, he pinned it up so that it hung from the roof of the cabinas a sort of curtain. Then he lighted one of the cabin lamps, turning itdown so that it shone only very dimly.

  "Hang it, I don't know what makes me so wakeful," he said, in a lowvoice. "That light doesn't disturb either of you boys, does it?"

  There was no answer. But Mr. Carleton, apparently to make certain,repeated the question two or three times, very softly, so as not toarouse them if they were sleeping, but to be overheard in case one ofthe
m should be awake. And he repeated also the remark several times abouthis sleeplessness.

  And also did he mutter to himself, so that none other could by anypossibility have overheard, "Perhaps a light will show. I couldn't makeanything out by daylight."

  A moment or two after that, Henry Burns, opening one sleepy eye to anunusual though faint ray of light, escaping from behind the blanket,beheld the figure of Mr. Carleton moving about the forward part of thecabin. He lay still for a moment wondering, drowsily, what was thematter. Perhaps he might have observed the figure for some time insilence, but of a sudden he was seized of an overpowering impulse tosneeze, and did so lustily.

  The figure with the lantern jumped as though it had received a blow.Then, by the light of the lantern, the blanket being whisked aside, Mr.Carleton was revealed, with a paper-covered novel in one hand, seatinghimself in the attitude of one reading.

  "That's too bad," he said, softly. "I thought the blanket would hide mylight. I got restless, you see, and have been reading a bit. I'm allright now though, I think. I'll douse the light and try again. Sorry Idisturbed you."

  The light went out. Hence neither Henry Burns nor any one else could byany possibility have seen the look of anger and disappointment on theface of Mr. Carleton as he turned in and lay down to sleep--this time inearnest.

  While thus living his boyhood over again with his new youthfulacquaintances, Mr. Carleton did not neglect to establish friendlyrelations with older persons. Squire Brackett admired him greatly. Asmatter of fact, to a designing person, the squire was the easiest man inthe world to win admiration from.

  He had an inordinate vanity and love of flattery, which, united with apompous manner, made him unbearable to those of discrimination; and thisentrance to his good graces was quickly espied by Mr. Carleton. Thesquire liked that quiet, but perceptible, deference that came to him froma person of such apparent means.

  There was, however, another reason that appealed even more strongly tothe squire why he should cultivate Mr. Carleton, and that was a hint thesquire had gained that his new acquaintance might prove profitable tohim.

  "Squire Brackett," said Mr. Carleton, seated for the evening on thesquire's front porch, "that's a pretty little island just below here,close to shore, between here and where those four boys are camping. Doyou know, I'd like to own that. I have an idea a man could throw out aneat, rustic bridge from shore, just big enough to take a horse andcarriage across, build a cottage out there, and have the most beautifulplace about here."

  "Well, why don't you buy it?" replied the squire. "It would, indeed, be arare cottage site--prettiest spot around here, I say."

  "I think perhaps I will," said Mr. Carleton; "that is, if it is for sale.Do you know anything about that?"

  "Why," answered the squire, "I guess I come about as near as anybody toowning it. You see, I hold a mortgage on it."

  "How much do you value it at?" asked Mr. Carleton.

  "Why, let me see," said the squire; "about twenty-five hundred dollars, Ishould say."

  "Cheap enough!" exclaimed Mr. Carleton. "I'll just write up to my lawyersand see how some investments I have are turning-out. I think we can makea trade later on."

  He said it as though it was a trifling matter, and the squire, who hadnamed an exorbitant figure, was sorry he had not put it higher. He alsohad neglected to explain that his hold on the land was of the slightest,consisting, as it did, of a mortgage of eight hundred dollars againstBilly Cook, the owner, who had paid off all but two hundred dollars ofthe incumbrance. However, he had no doubt he could easily buy it of BillyCook--indeed, he had had it offered to him for only four hundred dollarsabove the entire mortgage the year before.

  "You ought to have a good boat to cruise around here with," said thesquire. "You're fond of sailing, I see. Reckon you know how to handle aboat pretty well yourself."

  The squire knew he hadn't any boat to sell that would suit Mr. Carleton,calling to mind his son's letter from him about the _Viking_; but he hada purpose in suggesting the buying of one. He considered that if Mr.Carleton should make such a purchase, and become fascinated with thesailing about Southport, he would be more likely to want the land tobuild a cottage on.

  "Yes, I am very fond of sailing," responded Mr. Carleton, "but I haven'tgot so far as to think about buying a boat just yet."

  "Oh, ho! you haven't, eh?" said the squire to himself. "Reckon I knowsomething about that."

  The squire was vastly tickled. Here was a position that just suited hiscrafty nature. It didn't signify anything, to be sure, Mr. Carleton'sdissembling,--probably that he might get a better bargain by keepingquiet and not seeming anxious to buy,--but it pleased the squire to havethis little advantage in the situation.

  "I think you might buy the _Viking_," he suggested.

  Mr. Carleton had his own doubts about this, having been informed by HarryBrackett of the failure of his attempt, but he merely said, "That so?Well, she might do. Ever hear of anything queer about her--any outs abouther?"

  "No," replied the squire, "nothing queer about her, except the way theygot her. I don't know of any faults that she has."

  "Well, I might buy her if they didn't hold her too high," said Mr.Carleton, meditatively. "I suppose she's worth fifteen hundred dollarseasy enough."

  "Yes, and more if you had her up Boston way," answered the squire. "Youhaven't had any idea of buying her, then?"

  "No," responded Mr. Carleton. "Still, I might like to. But please don'tsay anything about it."

  "Oh, no," replied the squire, chuckling to himself. Mr. Carleton, biddinghim good night and taking his departure, was more than ever an object ofinterest to the squire. Here was a man that spoke in the most casual andnonchalant way of investing twenty-five hundred dollars in a piece ofland that he liked, and of buying a fifteen-hundred-dollar boat. Thesquire's curiosity, always keen in other persons' affairs, was aroused.He wondered--in the usual trend of such personal curiosity--how the otherman had made his money.

  This curiosity was not abated, to say the least, by a comparativelytrifling incident that occurred a day or two following. The squire had,in the cupola of his house, which he used as a vantage-point forsurveying the bay far out to sea, and the surrounding country up and downthe island, a large telescope. It was a powerful glass, with which hecould "pick up" a vessel away down among the islands, and read the nameon the stern of one a mile away. The squire had some interests in severalsmall schooners plying between the coast cities and Benton, and was inthe habit of going up to his lookout two or three times each day.

  On this particular occasion, the squire, after sweeping the bay with theglass, turned it inland and took a look down the island. He coulddistinguish several familiar wagons passing along the main road, butnothing unusual. But, when he happened to turn the glass almost directlyback inland from the direction of the town, he caught an object in itssweep that arrested his attention. It was the figure of his newacquaintance, Mr. Carleton, leaning against some pasture bars about aquarter of a mile away, intently reading a letter.

  There was surely nothing unusual nor exciting about this, and yet thesquire was interested. Perhaps it was due just to the novelty ofobserving a man a quarter of a mile away, reading a letter, when he couldby no possibility be aware that he was being observed.

  But if the squire's attention was drawn to Mr. Carleton in the act ofreading the letter, it was certainly doubled and trebled when the latter,having finished his perusal of it, waved the letter in a seeminglytriumphant manner about his head and then tore it into many little piecesand dropped the pieces at his feet. Squire Brackett, through thespy-glass, watched Mr. Carleton come down through the fields toward thevillage.

  He knew the exact spot to the inch where Mr. Carleton had stood. It wasat the bars that divided a pasture belonging to the postmaster and apiece of town property. The squire shut the sliding glass windows thatprotected his lookout, hurried out-of-doors, walked briskly up throughthe fields, making a detour to avoid meeting Mr. Carleton, and
arrived,somewhat short of breath, at the bars. He gathered up the pieces of theletter carefully. He put them into his coat-pocket, and walked brisklyback to his house.

  He hadn't got them all, for the wind had carried some away. But theletter had evidently been a brief one. When the squire took the piecesout that afternoon at his desk in a little room that he called hisoffice, there were only eleven scraps that he could assemble. Mr.Carleton had torn the letter into small bits.

  The squire was disappointed. He had hoped to gratify his curiosity and beable to pry into Mr. Carleton's private affairs a little. And withal,there were two words that interested him greatly and made hisdisappointment all the more keen. These were two words that followed, onethe other, in the sequence in which they had been written. They were thewords, "aboard yacht." All the others had been so separated in thedestruction of the letter that the squire despaired of ever being able tomake anything out of them, or to restore them to anything like theiroriginal consecutive form.

  However, he arranged the words and scraps of words by pasting them on asheet of paper, as follows:

  lock ey must be sound mbers aboard yacht starboa still under ays third

  "Well, there's a puzzle for you!" he exclaimed, dubiously. "How in theworld shall I ever be able to make anything out of that?" But the nextmoment he gave a chuckle of exultation. "I've got part of it already!" hecried. "Lucky I happened to set them down just this way. Those letters,'mbers' must have been part of the word 'timbers.' So that, after thefirst three scraps that I have put down, it reads, 'sound timbers aboardyacht.' I'll get something out of this yet. There's 'starboa,' too.That's 'starboard,' of course. And 'ays' below may be 'stays.' That mightmake 'starboard stays.'"

  A look of perplexity came over the squire's face the next moment.

  "The queer thing about this," he said, reflectively, "is that somebodyaway from here is writing him about this yacht. Perhaps they don't meanthe _Viking_. However, I believe that is the boat referred to. Well, hemay be only getting advice from some one as to how to examine theyacht--how to look her over. The remark about 'sound timbers' sounds likethat, anyway. So ho! he isn't thinking about buying a yacht, eh?"

  The squire chuckled.

  "I'll study this over at my leisure," he said, as he placed the paperwith the letters pasted on it carefully away in a drawer. "I'll figure itout."