Under the Great Bear

by Kirk Munroe

  CHAPTER X.

  CABOT ACQUIRES A LOBSTER FACTORY.

  The Baldwins were greatly pleased at Cabot's decision to wait over atrain; for, as Mrs. Baldwin said, a desirable guest in thatout-of-the-way corner of the world was the greatest of luxuries. Whitewas glad to prolong the friendship so strangely begun, and also toescape a present necessity for leaving his work to carry Cabot to thedistant railway station, while Cola was delighted to have found whatshe termed a geologic companion. After it was arranged that these twoshould set forth early the following day on a search for specimens,Cabot strolled down to the factory to learn something of the process ofcanning lobsters.

  He was amazed at the change effected in so short a time. When helanded at Pretty Harbour the factory had been closed, silent, anddeserted. Now it was a hive of bustling activity, in which everyavailable person of the village, including women and children, was hardat work. Fires were blazing under a number of great kettles halffilled with boiling water. Into these, green lobsters were tossed bybarrowfuls, to be taken out a little later smoking hot and coloured avivid scarlet. On the packing tables their shells were broken, and theextracted meat was put into cans, to which covers, each with a tinyhole in the middle, were soldered. Then the filled cans were steamed,by trayfuls, to exhaust their air; a drop of solder closed each vent,and they were ready for labelling and packing in cases. White Baldwin,in person, superintended all these operations, while David Gidge saw tothe unloading of the "Sea Bee," and kept sharp watch on a gang ofshouting urchins, who were withdrawing the live lobsters from theoutside salt-water pens, in which they had been kept while awaitingtheir fate.

  White was in high spirits, for the travelling agent of a St. Johnsbusiness house had just offered a good cash price for his entire pack.

  "Of course," the young proprietor said to Cabot, as they viewed thebusy scone, "we won't make anything like what we would if we wereallowed a whole uninterrupted season; but, if they will only let usalone for a week, I'll pack a thousand cases. Those will yield enoughto support us for a year, and before that is up I'm not afraid but thatI'll find some other way of earning a living. Now, if I can only getsufficient help, I'm going to run this factory night and day for thenext week, unless compelled by force to stop sooner."

  Cabot was already so interested that he promptly volunteered to aid inmaking the all-important pack.

  "I don't know anything about the business," he said, "but if you canmake use of me in any way, I shall be only too glad of a chance torepay a small portion of the great debt I owe you."

  "Nonsense!" laughed White. "You don't owe me a thing, and I don't wantyou to feel that way. At the same time I should be ever so glad ofyour help in getting things well started; for just now one strongfellow like you would be worth a dozen of those children."

  So, a few minutes later, Cabot, clad in overalls and an old flannelshirt of White's, was as hard at work as though the canning of lobsterswas the business of his life. Far into the night he laboured, onlypausing long enough to go up to the house for supper; and, on thefollowing morning, he was actually pleased that a heavy rain stormshould postpone the trip for specimens, furnish him with an excuse forprolonging his stay, and leave him at liberty to resume hisself-imposed task in the factory.

  The storm lasted for two days, at the end of which time half the packhad been made, and Cabot had become so familiar with all details of thework as to be a most valuable assistant. On the third day, the supplyof lobsters on hand being exhausted, operations were suspended untilthe boats could return with a new catch; and, as the weather was againfine, Cabot and Cola set forth on their geological exploration.

  It was a glorious day, with a sky of deepest blue; the hot sunshinetempered by a cool breeze pouring in from the sea, and all naturesparkling with joyous life. To Cabot, who had thought of Newfoundlandas a place of perpetual fog, and almost constant rain, the whole scenewas a source of boundless delight. As the two young people climbed thesteep ascent behind the village, new beauties were unfolded with eachmoment, until, when they reached the crest, and could look far out overthe islanded bay, with the placid cove and its white hamlet nestling attheir feet, Cabot declared his belief that there was not a moreexquisite view in all the world.

  After gazing their fill, the explorers plunged into a sweet-scentedforest of spruce and birches, threaded by narrow wood roads, andtramped for miles, stopping now and then to examine some outcroppingledge or gather a handful of snow-white capilear berries. But the mainobject of their quest, the copper-bearing serpentine, was not founduntil they had gained the summit of the Blomidon range and were in fullview of the sea. Then they came to a distinct outcrop ofmineral-bearing rock that caused the eyes of the young geologist toglisten with anticipation.

  While he chipped off specimens, studied the trend of the ledge, andmade such estimates of its character as were possible from surfaceindications, his companion climbed a rocky eminence that, short ofBlomidon itself, commanded the most extended view of any in thatregion. She had hardly gained the summit when she uttered a cry thatattracted Cabot's attention and caused him to hasten in her direction.In a few moments he met her running breathlessly down the hill.

  "What is it?" he asked. "Are you hurt?"

  "A warship coming up the coast," she panted. "I saw it plainly, and wemust get back with the news as quick as we can."

  Much as Cabot hated to give over the exploration of that wonderfulcopper-bearing ledge, he did not hesitate to obey the imperative callof friendship, and accompanied Cola with all speed back to the village.When they reached it they found White jubilant over the extraordinarycatch of lobsters that was even then being brought in.

  "Hurrah!" he cried, as Cabot appeared. "Biggest catch of the season,and you are just in time to help pack it away. But what brings youback so early? I thought you were off for all day."

  "Oh, White, they are coming!" gasped Cola.

  "Who are coming?"

  "A warship. I saw it from Maintop."

  "British or French?"

  "I don't know. I only knew it was a warship because it was so muchbigger than the 'Harlaw' and had tall masts."

  "Well, it don't make any difference," growled White, "one is just asbad as another, and our business is ruined anyway. Why couldn't theyhave kept away for three days longer?"

  "What will they do?" inquired Cabot, curiously.

  "I don't know," replied White, bitterly. "Either destroy or seize thewhole plant and leave us to starve at our leisure. Now, I suppose wemight as well go up to the house and tell mother. There's no use doingany more work under the circumstances."

  "I don't see why not," objected Cabot, who was not accustomed tothrowing up a fight before it was begun. "There is a possibility thatthe vessel may not be a warship after all, and another that she is notcoming to this place. Even if she does, you don't know that she hasany warrant for interfering with your business. So, if I were you, I'dgo right on with the work and keep at it until some one compelled me tostop. I say, though, speaking of warrants gives me an idea. All youwant is three days' delay, isn't it?"

  "That is what I want most just now," replied White.

  "Well, then, why not place this property in the name of somefriend--David Gidge, for instance--and when those men-of-war peoplebegin to make trouble let him ask them whose factory it is they areafter. They will say yours, or your mother's, of course. Then he'llspeak up and say in that case they've come to the wrong place, sincethis is the property of Mr. David Gidge, while their warrant onlymentions that of Mrs. Whiteway Baldwin. It'll be a big bluff, ofcourse, and won't work for very long, but it may puzzle 'em a bit andgive the delay of proceedings that you require."

  "I believe you are right about keeping on with the work," repliedWhite, thoughtfully; "though I am not so sure about the other part ofyour scheme. Anyway, I must run to the house for a little talk withmother, and if you'll just set things going in the factory I shall bemuch obliged."

  "All right," a
greed Cabot, "I'll shake 'em up."

  And he was as good as his word, for when, after an absence of more thanan hour, White reappeared on the scene he found the factory in fullblast, with its operatives working as they had never worked before, andCabot Grant, the most disreputable-looking of the lot, urging them onby voice and example to still greater exertions. He seemed to beeverywhere and doing everything at once.

  "Hello, old man! We've got greenbacks to burn, and we're a-burning'em," he cried cheerily as he paused to greet his friend, and at thesame time dash the streaming perspiration from his face with a grimyhand. "What's the news?"

  "The news is that you are a trump!" exclaimed White, "and that in spiteof all you are doing for us we want you to grant us still anotherfavour."

  "Name it, my boy, and if it is anything within reason, including adefiance of the whole British navy, I'll do it," laughed Cabot.

  "I hope you will, for it is something that we all want you to do verymuch," responded White. "You see it's this way. I spoke of yoursuggestion to mother, and she thought so well of it that I went to themagistrate and got him to draw up a deed transferring this property,for a nominal consideration, to a friend. Now it is all ready forsignatures, and we want you to be that friend."

  "Me!" cried Cabot, completely staggered by this unexpected result ofhis own planning. "You can't mean that. Why, you don't know anythingabout me. For all you know I might never give the property back toyou."

  "We are willing to risk that," replied White, "and would rather trustyou to act for us in this matter than any one else we know. It is abig favour to ask, I know; but you said you felt indebted to me andonly wanted a chance to pay off the debt, so I thought perhaps--but ifyou don't want to do it, of course----"

  "But I will, if you really want me to," cried Cabot. "I have alwayslonged to own a lobster factory. It never entered my head when Iproposed the plan that I would help carry it out; but if you think Ican be of the slightest assistance in that way, why of course I am onlytoo glad."

  So the papers constituting Cabot Grant, Esq., sole owner of the PrettyHarbour lobster factory were duly signed and recorded; and at sunset ofthat very evening our hero stood regarding his suddenly acquiredproperty with the air of one who is dubiously pleased at a prospect.