Little Bobtail

by Oliver Optic

  There was another person in the front room now, who had entered during this interview. In spite of the suspicion of the attorney, this person was Captain Chinks, who was promptly summoned to the private office, and the conference renewed.

  The ill-visaged person in the front room was probably a bank robber himself, though he was not yet implicated in the Buckingham affair. He was a friend of the robbers who had been arrested, and had employed Squire Gilfilian—who was as eloquent in speech as he was skilful in the intricacies of the law—to defend his unfortunate friends. The lawyer would not do so without a fee in advance; and the five hundred dollars had been sent in the letter which had so strangely disappeared. Either the sender knew no better than to trust so large a sum in the mail, or his criminal associations made him diffident about applying for a check or draft.

  Hearing nothing from the lawyer, he had written again, stating that he had sent the money at the time agreed upon. The squire had expected the letter, and intended immediately to start for the county town in the jail of which the robbers were confined, in order to examine his case. In reply to the second letter, he telegraphed to his correspondent in Portland that he had not received the first; and then the robbers' agent had come himself. There he was in the front room.

  CHAPTER VI.

  CAPTAIN CHINKS.

  "I'm very glad to see you, Captain Chinks," said Squire Gilfilian, as he conducted the gentleman of doubtful reputation into his private office.

  "Is my case likely to come up soon?" asked the captain.

  "No, I don't think it will ever come up," answered the lawyer.

  "Well, you have changed your tune since I was here before," added Captain Chinks, with a satisfied smile. "Then everything was going to be proved against me; now, nothing."

  "I have sifted down all the evidence the government has; and you needn't trouble yourself any more about that matter."

  "I suppose an innocent man never need fear," said the captain.

  Squire Gilfilian looked at the gentleman of doubtful reputation, opened his eyes with a jerk, and a faint smile played about the corners of his mouth. But professionally he dealt with evidence and questions of law, rather than with truth itself. He did not ask what was true, only what could be proved.

  Little Bobtail listened attentively to this conversation, though he had very little interest in it. But he could not help indorsing, in his own mind, the remark of Captain Chinks, that the innocent never need fear. He was under suspicion himself; but he was not afraid.

  "Ah, Bobtail! are you a witness for the prosecution?" said the captain, appearing now to see the youth for the first time.

  "No, sir. I'm the defendant myself," replied Bobtail, pleasantly; for the arrival of the captain seemed to settle all his trouble. "I am in stays just now, caught in going about, and there I hang. If you will just give me a pull on the lee side, I shall go about handsomely."

  "Certainly, my lad. If you miss stay in this law business, there's always a lee shore to drift on to, and no room to wear round."

  "Captain Chinks," interposed the lawyer, who did not so clearly comprehend the nautical view of the case, "I lost a letter the day you went away."

  "And Bobtail found it," suggested the captain.

  "Not exactly. I never received it."

  "Then I don't see how you lost it."

  "Little Bobtail and the post-master agree perfectly on one point—that two letters were given him, one to carry to you and the other to me, on the day you went away."

  "And I perfectly agree with Little Bobtail and the post-master. He gave me my letter in your front office, only two minutes after you told me that I was certain to be arrested in less than twenty-four hours for being concerned in that smuggling case, when it was as plain as the nose on a man's face that I had nothing whatever to do with it. He gave me that letter, and that letter called me on business down to Mount Desert. You see, squire, when a man is innocent—"

  "Exactly so," interposed Squire Gilfilian. "We will grant that you are entirely innocent. But the smuggling case is not before the court just now. We were speaking of the letters. We will grant that Bobtail delivered your letter to you all right. Do you happen to know anything about the other letter?"

  The squire glanced at Little Bobtail, to discover any evidences of guilt or confusion in his face. Certainly he was deeply interested, and even anxious; but, being young and inexperienced, he had an undoubting confidence in the ultimate triumph of truth and innocence.

  "I do happen to know all about it," replied Captain Chinks, after he also had glanced at the boy.

  "Well, what do you know about it?" demanded the lawyer, rather impatiently, as the captain paused, and looked again at the alleged culprit.

  "Bobtail gave me my letter, and I opened it at once, for I was expecting that letter, and had asked for it at the post-office, for it was getting rather late for the steamer, and I had some business in Rockland. I was expecting to meet a man down to Bar Harbor."

  "We will grant that your letter was all right, captain. We were speaking of the other letter."

  "I thought we were speaking of both of them," laughed the captain.

  "It is all settled in regard to your letter; and you have been to Rockland, Bar Harbor, and down into the provinces, for aught I know."

  "No, I haven't. I was in St. John—let me see—two years ago; and I haven't been there since. You seem to think I have business down in the provinces, squire."

  "I don't know anything at all about your business, captain. But they say that a great deal of brandy finds its way into the States without paying any duties," chuckled the squire.

  "You don't mean to say that I have anything to do with bringing it in—do you, Squire Gilfilian?" demanded the captain, who seemed to be damaged in his feelings by the lawyer's thrust.

  "Certainly not."

  "Because you have just proved that I have not."

  "Hardly; only failed to prove that you have. But the letter, captain. Bobtail says you were here when he brought it into the office."

  "I was here, squire," answered the captain, dropping into an arm-chair.

  "I asked you, Captain Chinks—" Little Bobtail began.

  "Never mind what you asked him," interposed the squire, sharply. "I have heard your story, and now I want to hear the captain's, without any leading questions."

  "Don't be so snappy with the boy, squire. I'll tell you all about the letter without any questions at all," added Captain Chinks.

  "Well, I really wish you would. I have been trying for some time to get at the facts, and you have talked about everything except the one thing I wish to know," said the lawyer, impatiently.

  "Steady as she is, squire, and I'll tell you all about it. When I came out of this office, the day I went away, I met Little Bobtail coming into the front one with two letters in his hand, he gave me mine, and then asked where you were, squire. I told him you were in this office, and that you were busy. Then Bobtail said he had a letter for you, and I told him to put it on your desk. He tossed it on your desk, and then left. I can tell you just where it lay on the cover."

  "So can I," said the boy, as cheerful as a lark now, for the captain had precisely confirmed all his story.

  "Can you? Come and show me, then.—Stay here a moment, captain," said the squire, as he conducted the boy to the front office, closing the door behind him.

  Little Bobtail indicated the precise spot where the letter lay when he had thrown it upon the desk. Captain Chinks was called in, and pointed to exactly the same place. There was not a variation of two inches between them.

  "I can swear that the letter lay on the desk after Bobtail went out of the office," said Captain Chinks, decidedly.

  "I am willing to grant that Little Bobtail has told the truth, and that he is entirely exculpated from the charge; for if either or both of you have been lying, your testimony would have conflicted in some point, as it does not now."

  "That's handsome, squire," added the captain.
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  "By the way, when did you see Bobtail last, captain?" asked the lawyer.

  "I haven't seen him since the day I went away."

  "You may go, Bobtail," added the squire.

  "I'm in no hurry, sir. Perhaps you will want to ask me some more questions," replied the boy.

  "If the letter was left on my desk, I ought to have found it there," continued the lawyer.

  "That's so. But you don't always find things where you put them," said Captain Chinks, sagely.

  A long conversation about the missing letter followed; but no clew to it was obtained. The ill-visaged man, who wished to save the Buckingham Bank robbers from a long term in the state prison, thought it was very hard that his friends should suffer because somebody had stolen the letter, or the squire had lost it by his carelessness. But the lawyer thought his correspondent was to blame for not sending a check or draft; to which the ill-visaged replied that a check or draft would have been lost in the same manner the money had been.

  Finally Squire Gilfilian agreed to defend the bank robbers, and their friend agreed to raise the money to pay him before the trial came on. He did defend them; but even he was not smart enough to save them from a long term in the state prison.

  Little Bobtail was entirely satisfied with the result of the examination, so far as he was personally concerned, though, as the squire seemed to be very fair about it, he was sorry that he should lose so large a sum of money. More than this, he had more respect than ever before for Captain Chinks, who, he was quite sure, had told the truth in this instance. He might have given him a world of trouble if he had simply declined to tell the truth, or had distorted it even a little. Bobtail was, therefore, very grateful to him for doing what it was plainly his duty to do. Still our hero could not help wondering, as hundreds of others wondered, whether or not the captain really smuggled goods into the state. Perhaps he would not have thought much the worse of him if he had known that such was the fact; for, as we have before stated, Bobtail's views of smuggling were not very definite. He had never considered the subject enough to have any fixed opinions.

  Captain Chinks was a thriving, driving, enterprising man, who did any kind of business which promised an adequate remuneration. He went a fishing, he traded horses, traded boats, traded vehicles. He had been in the salmon business, importing it from the provinces, and sending it to Boston; he had been in the pogy oil business; he had been in the staging business; he had been in the hotel business in a small way. He owned a farm, and was a mechanic besides. He sometimes built a boat during the winter season, and ran it during the summer, or sold it, if an opportunity presented. If there was a camp-meeting, he carried passengers in his craft to and from the grounds. He was, or had been, in all these occupations. They were visible and tangible; and some people insisted that he was engaged in other occupations which were not so visible and tangible.

  Little Bobtail left Captain Chinks in the lawyer's office, and walked down the shore road to the cottage. He went in and found Ezekiel drunk on the bed. He did not disturb him, but went up stairs to see if the boxes he had removed from the Skylark were still securely hidden from the observation of any one who might visit the upper part of the house. He adjusted the rubbish which covered them, and then left the cottage. Monkey was paddling about the harbor in the old dory, which he had borrowed at the head of the bay. The moment his grateful friend saw him, he pulled to the rocks where he stood, and they went on board of the yacht together. Little Bobtail looked her over again, and began to wonder that no one appeared to claim her. He could not help asking if any one would ever appear to claim her. Whoever did so would have to account for the presence of those cases of brandy in her cabin. If the owner had any regard for his reputation, he might choose rather to sacrifice the boat and her cargo, than to subject himself to the penalty of his transgression. If he claimed the boat, he was reasonably sure that both would be confiscated, and he would make nothing by doing so, pecuniarily, and was liable to punishment besides. Bobtail thought it would be a fine thing to own the Skylark, or even to have the use of her for a season or two; and hoped the legal owner of her would have a proper regard for his reputation, and not risk it by putting forward his claim to her.

  Certainly for the present Bobtail was in charge of her, and there was no one to dictate what he should or should not do with her. He was willing that everybody should see the boat; and, to enable any one who might possibly throw light upon her ownership to do so, he thought it best to sail her about the harbor. The tide was up now, and, with the assistance of Monkey, he hoisted the mainsail and got up the anchor.

  "Now, stand by the jib-halyards, Monkey," shouted the skipper, as he took the helm.

  "All clear, Bob," replied the hand before the mast.

  "Hoist the jib."

  Monkey knew all about a boat, and did his work well. The Skylark went off with the fresh breeze on her quarter, and Bobtail felt like a lord at the helm.

  "Don't she spin!" said Monkey, as he seated himself in the standing-room, and fixed his gaze on the swelling sails.

  "She goes it like a locomotive," replied the skipper. "Now haul in on the main sheet, and we will run up the harbor."

  The Skylark, close-hauled, ran up to the head of the little bay, and coming about, stood over close to the wharf, at the head of which the fish market and several stores were located.

  "Hollo, Bobtail!" shouted the skipper of the Islesboro' packet, which had come in that morning, and lay alongside the wharf. "What boat's that?"

  "The Skylark," replied the skipper.

  "Where did she come from?"

  "I don't know. I picked her up yesterday, and want to find the owner," replied Bobtail, who, while he was looking for an owner, did not really wish to find one, though he was prepared to do all that was fair and right in the premises.

  "Where did you pick her up?" asked the skipper of the packet.

  As the Skylark was now almost out of hailing distance, Bobtail came about, and ran up alongside the packet, skilfully spilling the sail at the right moment, so that she hardly bumped against the other vessel, though Monkey stood ready with the fenders.

  "I picked her up near Blank Island," replied Bobtail.

  "I seen a boat like her just about sundown last night. I couldn't make her out, but I cal'late that's the craft I see," added the skipper. "But how on airth came she adrift?"

  "That's more than I know."

  "Don't Captain Chinks know nothin' about her? He come over with me from Isleboro' this mornin'."

  "I saw him up in town this morning, but he didn't say anything about her," answered Bobtail.

  "I don't know's he knows anything about her; but he's pooty well acquainted with all the boats in these parts. Was there anything on board of her?"

  "She's a pleasure craft. Come on board and look at her," replied Bobtail, evasively.

  The skipper of the packet accepted the invitation, and looked over the Skylark. He was critical in his observations, and did not believe that any of these fancy craft amounted to much in heavy weather. She was "fixed up smart," and was "handsome's a picture;" but "he'd rather have his homely boat when it blowed than a thousand sech highflyers." They could "chalk a line up in to the wind in light weather, but they wan't nothin' in a sea."

  Bobtail did not indorse these critical remarks, for he had tried the Skylark in a sea, and knew that she was equal to anything.

  "I hope you'll find the owner, and I ca'late you'll make somethin' out of the job," said the skipper, as he returned to his vessel.

  Bobtail did not particularly hope so, for even if he made something out of the job, he was afraid he should never be satisfied with the old tub in which he had sailed the day before, if he bought her, now that he had realized the glories of the Skylark.

  "Shove her off, Monkey," said he, as he resumed his place at the helm.

  Running along close to the wharves, he answered several hails of persons who wished to know about the boat. It would soon be all over town that
he had picked up the yacht; and having in this manner sufficiently advertised her, he stood off towards the open bay, passing between the Spindles off the point.

  "Where are you going to now, Bob?" asked Monkey.

  "We will take a little sail, just to see how the boat works."

  "She works fust rate, and no mistake," added Monkey, with admiration.

  "I'd give more to own this boat than I would to be one of the selectmen," continued Bobtail. "She's a tip-top sea boat. Take the helm, Monkey, and see how nice she steers."

  The Darwinian opened his mouth from ear to ear with pleasure as he complied with the request. Of course he fully agreed with all the skipper said. Bobtail walked forward, and then went below. It was about time to be thinking of dinner, though he was not very hungry yet. He looked over the stores of the yacht, to see if there was anything besides bacon for the meal. In a small tub he found some salt pork. One of the lockers under the transom was half full of potatoes; but he discovered no other meat. After this survey he concluded to dine on fish, for he had his lines and salt clams on deck. Returning to the helm, he put the yacht about, and stood up to one of the best of the fishing-grounds.

  "Lower the jib," he called to his crew; and when this was done, he directed him to throw over the anchor. "Now, Monkey, catch some fish while I go below and make a fire."

  In a few moments Bobtail had a fire in the stove. Washing some potatoes, he pared and sliced them. Three big slices of salt pork in the pan soon produced fat enough to fry them. By this time there was a movement on deck. The Darwinian was pulling in a fish.

  "A cod!" shouted Monkey. "He's a nice one, too."

  "How big is he?" asked Bobtail.