Under the Great Bear

by Kirk Munroe

  CHAPTER XI.

  BLUFFING THE BRITISH NAVY.

  Cabot was not long allowed to enjoy his sense of possession beforeexperiencing some of the anxieties of proprietorship; for, even as hestood overlooking his newly acquired factory, a clipper-built schooner,showing the fine lines and tall topmasts of an American, rounded theouter headland and entered the harbour. For a few minutes our youngengineer, who was learning to appreciate the good points of a vessel,watched her admiringly as she glided across the basin and drew near thefactory wharf. Then he was joined by White, who had been detained atthe house, and they went down together to greet the new-comer.

  She proved to be the fishing schooner "Ruth" of Gloucester, and herskipper, who introduced himself as Cap'n Ezekiel Bland, explained thathe had come to the coast after bait.

  "I 'lowed to get it in St. George," he said, "but there was a peskyFrench frigate that wouldn't allow the natives to sell us so much as aherring, though they had a-plenty and were keen to make a trade for thestuff I've got aboard."

  "What kind of stuff?" asked Cabot, curiously.

  "Flour and pork mostly. You see, I'm bound on a long trip, and beingobliged to lay in a big supply of grub anyway, thought I might as wellstow a few extra barrels to trade for bait; but now it looks like Icouldn't get rid of 'em unless I give 'em away."

  "There's plenty of bait in the bay," remarked White.

  "Yes, so I've heard, and a plenty of frigates, too. The Frenchy musthave suspicioned where I was bound, for he has followed us up sharp,and as we came by South Head I seen him jest a bilin' along 'bout tenmile astarn, and now he'll poke into every hole of the bay till hefinds us. Anyhow, there won't be no chance to trade long as he'sround, for you folks don't dare say your soul's your own when there's aFrenchy on the coast."

  "Nor hardly at any other time," remarked White, moodily.

  "There's another one, too--Britisher, I reckon--went up the bay towardsHumber Arm ahead of us. I only wish the two tarnal critters would getinto a scrap and blow each other out of the water. Then there'd besome chance for honest folks to make a living. Now I'm up a stump anddon't know what to do, unless some of you people can let me have a fewbarrels of bait right off, so's I can clear out again to-night."

  "There isn't any to be had here," replied White, "for this is a lobsterfactory, and the whole business of the place, just at present, iscatching and canning lobsters. You'll find some round at York Harbour,though."

  "No use going there now, nor anywhere else, long as that peskyFrenchman's on the lookout. Can't think what made him leave St. Pierrein such a hurry. Thought he was good to stay there a week longer atany rate. But say, who owns this factory?"

  "This gentleman is the proprietor," replied White, indicating hiscompanion as he spoke.

  "Hm!" ejaculated the Yankee skipper, regarding Cabot with an air ofinterest. "Never should have took you to be the owner of aNewfoundland lobster factory. Sized you up to be a Yankee same asmyself, and reckoned you was here on a visit. Seeing as you are theboss, though, how'd you like to trade your pack for my cargo--lobstersfor groceries? Both of us might make a good thing out of it. Eh?I'll take all the risks, and neither of us needn't pay no duty."

  "Can't do it," replied Cabot promptly, "because, in the first place,I'm not in the smuggling business, and in the second our whole pack isengaged by parties in St. Johns."

  "As for the smuggling part," responded Captain Bland, "I wouldn't letthat worry me a little bit. Everybody smuggles on this coast, which isneither British, French, nor Newfoundland. So a man wouldn't rightlyknow who to pay duties to, even if he wanted to pay 'em ever so bad,which most of us don't. If you have engaged your goods to St. Johns,though, of course a bargain is a bargain. Same time I could afford topay you twice as much as any St. Johns merchant. But it don't mattermuch one way or another, seeing as the idea of trading was only an ideaas you may say that just popped into my head. Well, so long. It'scoming on dark, and I must be getting aboard. See you to-morrow,mebbe."

  As the Yankee skipper took his departure, Cabot and White turned intothe factory, where all night long fires blazed and roared beneath theseething kettles.

  Until nearly noon of the following day the work of canning lobsters wascontinued without interruption, and pushed with all possible energy.Then a boy, who had been posted outside the harbour as a lookout, camehurrying in to report that he had seen a naval launch steaming in thatdirection.

  The emergency for which Cabot had been planning ever since he consentedto become the responsible head of the concern was close at hand, and heat once began to take measures to meet it.

  "Draw your fires," he shouted. "Empty the kettles and cool them off.Pass all cans, empty or full, up into the loft, and then every one ofyou clear out. Remember that you are not to know a thing about thefactory, if anybody asks questions, and you don't even want to give anyone a chance to ask questions if you can help it. Run up to thehouse," he added, turning to the boy who had brought tidings of theenemy's approach, "and tell Mrs. Baldwin, with my compliments, that thecarriage is ready for her drive."

  So thoroughly had everything been explained and understood beforehand,and so promptly were these orders obeyed, that, half an hour later,when a jaunty man-of-war's launch, flying a British Jack, entered thelittle harbour, every preparation had been made for her reception. Thefactory, closed and silent, presented no outward sign that it had beenin operation for months. Those who had recently worked soindustriously within its weather-stained walls now lounged about theirown house doors, or on the village street, as though they had nothingto do, and limitless leisure in which to do it. White Baldwin, withhis mother and sister, had driven away in a cart, leaving theirtenantless house with closed doors and tightly shuttered windows.Cabot Grant, with hands thrust into his trousers pockets, leanedagainst a wharf post and surveyed the oncoming launch with languidcuriosity. The Yankee schooner swung gracefully at her moorings, andfrom her a boat was pulling towards shore; while on the deck of the"Sea Bee," also anchored in the stream, David Gidge placidly smoked apipe.

  The launch slowed down as it neared him, and an officer inquired in thecrisp tones of authority:

  "What place is this?"

  Deliberately taking the pipe from his mouth, and looking about him asthough to refresh his memory, Mr. Gidge answered:

  "I've heard it called by a number of names."

  "Was one of them Pretty Harbour?"

  "Now that you mention it, I believe it were."

  "What kind of a building is that?" continued the officer, sharply,pointing to the factory as he spoke.

  David gazed at the building with interest, as though now seeing it forthe first time.

  "Looks to me like a barn," he said at length. "Same time it might be achurch, though I don't reckon it is."

  "Isn't it a lobster factory?"

  "They might make lobsters in it, but I don't think they does. Mebbethat young man on the wharf could tell ye. He looks knowing."

  Disgusted at this exhibition of stupidity, and muttering somethingabout a chuckle-headed idiot, the officer motioned for his launch tomove ahead, and, in another minute, it lay alongside the wharf.

  "Is this the Pretty Harbour lobster factory?" demanded the officer ashe stepped ashore.

  "I believe it was formerly used as a lobster cannery," replied Cabot,guardedly, "but no business of the kind is being carried on here atpresent."

  "It is owned by the family of the late William Baldwin, is it not?"

  "No, sir."

  "Who then does own the property?"

  "I do."

  "You!" exclaimed the officer. "And pray, sir, who are you?"

  "I am an American citizen named Grant, and have recently acquired thisproperty by purchase."

  "Indeed. Then of course you possess papers showing the transfer ofownership."

  "Certainly."

  "I should like to look at them."

  "They have been sent for record to the county seat, whe
re any one whochooses may examine them."

  "Where shall I find a person by the name of Whiteway Baldwin?"

  "I can't tell you, as he has left the place."

  "Is any member of his family here?"

  "No. All of them went with him."

  "Have you the keys of this factory?"

  "I have."

  "Then I must trouble you to open it, as I wish to look inside."

  As the two entered the building, and the officer caught sight of themachinery used in canning lobsters, he said:

  "I am very sorry, Mr. Grant, but I have orders to destroy everythingfound in this factory that has been, or may be, used in the canning oflobsters."

  "Those orders apply to the property of Mrs. William Baldwin, do theynot?"

  "They do."

  "Then, sir, since she no longer owns this building, and I do, togetherwith all that it contains, I warn you that if you destroy one penny'sworth of my property I shall at once bring suit for damages againstboth you and your commanding officer. I can command plenty of moneyand a powerful influence at home, both of which shall be brought tobear on the case. If it goes against you my claim will be pressed bythe American Government at the Court of St. James. Moreover, articlesconcerning the outrage will be published in all the leading Americanpapers. Public sentiment will be aroused, and you doubtless know aswell as any one whether England, with all the troubles now on herhands, can afford to incur the ill will of the American people for thesake of a pitiful lobster factory. You can see for yourself that noillegal business--nor in fact business of any kind--is being carried onhere at present, and, under the circumstances, I would advise you totake time for serious reflection before you begin to destroy theproperty of an American citizen."

  Bewildered by this unexpected aspect of the situation, and rememberinghow a suit brought by the proprietors of that same factory had goneagainst a former British commander who had interfered with itsoperations, the officer hemmed and hawed and made several remarksuncomplimentary to Americans, but finally decided to lay the casebefore his captain. As he reentered his launch he said:

  "Of course you understand, sir, that no work of any kind is to be donein this building between this and the time of my return, nor mayanything whatever be removed from it."

  "I understand perfectly," replied Cabot. Yet within half an hour theemployees of the factory had returned to their tasks, fires had beenre-lighted, kettles were boiling merrily, and the place again hummedwith busy activity.

  "Young feller, it was the biggest bluff I ever see, and it worked!"exclaimed Captain Ezekiel Bland a few minutes earlier, as he stood onthe wharf with Cabot watching the departing launch.