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Page 8
"He's bin favoured," said Disko, dryly.
"And if you don't know who Harvey Cheyne is, you don't know
much--that's all. Now turn her around and let's hurry."
Harvey had a notion that the greater part of America was filled
with people discussing and envying his father's dollars.
"Mebbe I do, an' mebbe I don't. Take a reef in your stummick,
young feller. It's full o' my vittles."
Harvey heard a chuckle from Dan, who was pretending to be busy
by the stump-foremast, and blood rushed to his face. "We'll pay for
that too," he said. "When do you suppose we shall get to New
York?"
"I don't use Noo York any. Ner Boston. We may see Eastern Point
about September; an' your pa--I'm real sorry I hain't heerd tell
of him--may give me ten dollars efter all your talk. Then o'
course he mayn't."
"Ten dollars! Why, see here, I--" Harvey dived into his pocket for
the wad of bills. All he brought up was a soggy packet of
cigarettes.
"Not lawful currency; an' bad for the lungs. Heave 'em overboard,
young feller, and try agin."
"It's been stolen!" cried Harvey, hotly.
"You'll hev to wait till you see your pa to reward me, then?"
"A hundred and thirty-four dollars--all stolen," said Harvey, hunting
wildly through his pockets. "Give them back."
A curious change flitted across old Troop's hard face. "What
might you have been doin' at your time o' life with one hundred
an' thirty-four dollars, young feller?"
"It was part of my pocket-money--for a month." This Harvey
thought would be a knock-down blow, and it was--indirectly.
"Oh! One hundred and thirty-four dollars is only part of his
pocket-money--for one month only! You don't remember hittin'
anything when you fell over, do you? Crack agin a stanchion,
le's say. Old man Hasken o' the East Wind"--Troop seemed to be
talking to himself--"he tripped on a hatch an' butted the
mainmast with his head--hardish. 'Baout three weeks afterwards,
old man Hasken he would hev it that the "East Wind" was a
commerce-destroyin' man-o'-war, an' so he declared war on Sable Island
because it was Bridish, an' the shoals run aout too far. They
sewed him up in a bed-bag, his head an' feet appearin', fer the
rest o' the trip, an' now he's to home in Essex playin' with
little rag dolls."
Harvey choked with rage, but Troop went on consolingly: "We're
sorry fer you. We're very sorry fer you--an' so young. We won't say
no more abaout the money, I guess."
"'Course you won't. You stole it."
"Suit yourself. We stole it ef it's any comfort to you. Naow,
abaout goin' back. Allowin' we could do it, which we can't, you
ain't in no fit state to go back to your home, an' we've jest come
on to the Banks, workin' fer our bread. We don't see the ha'af of
a hundred dollars a month, let alone pocket-money; an' with good
luck we'll be ashore again somewheres abaout the first weeks o'
September."
"But--but it's May now, and I can't stay here doin' nothing just
because you want to fish. I can't, I tell you!"
"Right an' jest; jest an' right. No one asks you to do nothin'.
There's a heap as you can do, for Otto he went overboard on Le
Have. I mistrust he lost his grip in a gale we f'und there.
Anyways, he never come back to deny it. You've turned up, plain,
plumb providential for all concerned. I mistrust, though, there's
ruther few things you kin do. Ain't thet so?"
"I can make it lively for you and your crowd when we get ashore,"
said Harvey, with a vicious nod, murmuring vague threats about
"piracy," at which Troop almost--not quite--smiled.
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