The Merry Anne 4

The Merry Anne 4

"Was that all? Were you only thanking me?"

 

She nodded, and Dick's face fell into gloom. But when the _Captain_ was

beached, and Annie had leaped lightly over the rail, she turned and gave

him one merry blushing look that completely reversed the effect of her

reproof. And as she hurried up to the house, he could only gaze after

her helplessly.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER II--THE NEW MATE

 

[Illustration: 0046]

 

IN the morning the _William Schmidt_, Henry Smiley, Master, came in

from Chicago and tied up across the pier from the _Merry Anne_.

 

Henry, Dick's cousin, was a short, stocky, man, said to be somewhat of

a driver with his sailors. He seldom had much to say, never drank, was

shrewd at a bargain, and was supposed to have a considerable sum stowed

away in the local savings bank. Though he was wanting in the qualities

that made his younger cousin popular, he was daring enough in his quiet

way, and he had been known, when he thought the occasion justified it,

to run long chances with his snub-nosed schooner.

 

After breakfast Dick walked across the broad pier between the piles of

lumber, and found Henry in his cabin. They greeted each other cordially.

 

"Sit down," said Henry. "Did you come down through that nor'wester?"

 

Dick nodded.

 

"Have any trouble?"

 

"Oh, no. Lost some sleep--that's all. You aren't going down to the yards

to-day, are you?"

 

"Yes--I think likely. Why?"

 

"I 'll go along with you. I'm ready to make another payment on the

schooner. I've been thinking it over, and it strikes me I'm paying about

three times what she's worth. What do you think? Would it do any harm to

have a little talk about it with the Cap'n? You know him better than I

do."

 

Henry shook his head. "I wouldn't. He is too smart for you. He will beat

you any way you try it, and have you thanking him before he is through

with you. I have gone all over this ground before, you know. Of course

he is an old rascal--but I don't know of any other way you could even

get an interest in a schooner. You see, you haven't any capital. He will

give you all the time you want, and I don't know but what he's entitled

to a little extra, everything considered. But don't say anything,

whatever you do. You've got too good a thing here."

 

"You think I ought to just shut up and let him bleed me?"

 

"He isn't bleeding you. Just think it over, Dick. You are making a

living, and you already have a quarter interest in your schooner. You

couldn't ask much more at your age. Have you heard from him yet, by the

way?"

 

"No."

 

"He spoke to me the other day about wanting to see you when you came in.

There's another order to come down from Spencer."

 

"Where's that?"

 

"Up in the Alpena country."

 

"Lake Huron, eh? Oh--isn't that where you went in the spring?"

 

"Yes, I've been there. An old fellow named Spencer runs a little

one-horse mill, and he's selling timber and shingles. And from what

the Cap'n said, I don't think he'd care if you brought along a little

venture of your own. That's the way I used to do, when I was paying for

the _Schmidt_."

 

"How could I do that?"

 

"Spencer will give you a little credit. You can stow away a few thousand

feet, and clear twenty or thirty dollars. It helps along."

 

"All right, I 'll try it. Are you sure the old man won't care?"

 

"Oh, yes. He's willing enough to do the square thing, so long as it

keeps us feeling good and doesn't lose him anything."

 

"Say--there's another thing, Henry. I fired Roche, up at Manistee."

 

"Fired him?" Henry's brows came together.

 

"Yes, I had to. I had stood him as long as I could."

 

"I don't know what the Cap'n will say about that."

 

"I'd like to know what he can say. I was in command."

 

"Yes, I know--of course you had a right to; but the thing is to keep on

his good side. Suppose we go right down to the yards, and see if you can

get your story in before Roche's."

 

"What does the Cap'n care about my men, I'd like to know!"

 

[Illustration: 0051]

 

"Now, keep cool, Dick. Roche, you see, used to work for him,--I don't

know but what they're related,--and it was because the Cap'n spoke to

me about him that I recommended him to you when I did. And look here,

Dick,"--Henry smiled as he laid a hand on his cousin's shoulder,--"I'm a

good deal older than you are, and you can take my word for it. Don't get

sour on things. Of course people will do you if they can; but it's human

nature, and you can't change it by growling about it. You are doing

well, and what you need now is to keep your eyes open and your mouth

shut. Why should you want to hurry things along?"

 

A flush came over Dick's face. "There's a reason all right enough. You

see, Henry, there's a little girl not so very many miles from here--"

 

"Oho!" thought Henry, "a little girl!" But his face was immobile,

excepting a momentary curious __EXPRESSION__ that passed over it.

 

"Now don't get to thinking it's all fixed up, because it isn't--not yet.

But you see, I've been thinking that when I've got a little something to

offer--"

 

"There's another thing you can take my word for, my boy," said Henry,

with a dry smile; "don't get impetuous. Marrying may be all right, but

it wants to be done careful."

 

Captain Stenzenberger's lumber yard was a few miles away, at the Chicago

city limits. As the two sailors left the pier to walk up to the railway

station, Dick was glad to change the subject for the first one that came

into his head. "What do you suppose the _Foote_ has been doing here this

week, Dick? I heard she put in Tuesday or Wednesday."

 

"Looking for Whiskey Jim, I suppose."

 

"Oh, are they on that track again?"

 

"Haven't you seen the papers?"

 

"No--not for more than a week."

 

"Well, it's quite a yarn. From what has been said, I rather guess it's

the liquor dealers that are stirring it up this time. There is a story

around that he has been counterfeiting the red-seal label on their

bottles. I think they're all off the track, though. Anybody could

tell 'em that there's no such man. Every time a case of smuggling comes

up, the papers talk about 'Whiskey Jim,' no matter if it's up at the

straits or down on the St. Lawrence."

 

"But what's the trouble now?"

 

"Oh, they're saying that this fellow is a rich man that has a big

smuggling system with agents all around the Lakes and dealers in the

cities that are in his pay,--sort of a smuggling trust."

 

"Sounds like a fairy story."

 

"That's about what it is. The regular dealers have taken up the fight to

protect their trade, and one or two of the papers in particular have put

reporters on the case, and all that sort of thing. And as usual they're

announcing just what they've done and what they're going to do. The old

_Foote_ is to make a tour of the Lakes, and look into every port. And if

there is any Whiskey Jim, I 'll bet he's somewhere over in Canada by this

time, reading the papers and laughing at 'em." Captain Stenzenberger was

seated in his swivel chair in his dingy little one-story office at the

corner of the lumber yard. His broad frame was overloaded with flesh.

His paunch seemed almost to rest on his thighs as he sat there, chewing

an unlighted cigar in the corner of his mouth,--a corner that had been

moulded around the cigar by long habit and that looked incomplete

when the cigar was not there. His fat neck--the fatter for a large

goitre--was wider than his cheeks, and these again were wider than his

forehead, so that his head seemed to taper off from his shoulders. A

cropped mustache, a tanned, wrinkled face and forehead, and bright brown

eyes completed the picture. When his two captains came in, he rested

his pudgy hands on the arms of his chair, readjusted his lips around the

cigar, and nodded. "How are you, boys?" said he, in a husky voice. "Have

a good trip?" This last remark was addressed to Dick.

 

"First part was bad, but it cleared up later."

 

"Did you put right out into that storm from Manistee?"

 

"Yes--you see I had the wind behind me all the way down. Got to get a

new small boat, though."

 

The "Captain" did not press the subject. In return for the privilege

of buying the schooner by instalments he permitted Dick to pay for the

insurance, so the young man could be as reckless as he liked.

 

Dick now explained that he had come to make a payment, and the

transaction was accomplished.

 

"Step over and have a drink, boys," was the next formality; and the two

stood aside while Stenzenberger got his unwieldy body out of the chair, put on his hat, and led the way out.