"I can't really tell ye how it happened, Martha."
The captain was lying on the sofa in the sitting-room, with his injured foot resting on a pillow. His wife had applied hot cloths to the ankle, and rubbed it well with liniment.
"You must have tripped on something, Sam'l, as you were running," she remarked. "It's a wonder you weren't killed. I hope to goodness you won't get cold. Why, you were soaked to the skin."
"An' I might have been struck with lightnin', Martha. Jist think of that."
"Indeed you might. Or you might have broken your leg."
"Or cracked me rib," the captain growled. "But I didn't, so what's the use of worryin' about things that didn't happen. I'm here, with nuthin' worse than a sprained ankle. You an' Flo had better go to bed. I'm all right now. I want to stay right by this winder, so's I kin see the river as soon as it gits light enough. I'm anxious to know whar the 'Eb an' Flo' is aground. She must be hard on by this time. Wonder how Eben's makin' out."
"The poor boy must be greatly worried, Sam'l. Maybe he'll come home before morning."
"Mebbe he will, Martha. I never thought of that. But he'll not worry about the loss of the boat. Most likely he'll be glad, fer he doesn't take much to the water. I don't know what we're goin' to do with that boy."
"But what will you do without the boat, Sam'l? It's our only means of living, and with that gone we'll starve."
"Oh, I guess we'll pull through somehow. I'll git the boat afloat when her load's taken off, if she isn't too hard an' fast on them mud flats. My, it was sartinly some gale last night! I've been boatin' on this river fer over twenty-five years, an' I never saw anything like it. I thought mebbe you an' Flo intended to stay at the Hamptons all night. It was mighty lucky fer me, though, that ye didn't."
"Mrs. Hampton coaxed us to stay, but I wanted to get home. I had a peculiar feeling that something was the matter."
"An' didn't ye have a more peculiar feelin', Martha, when ye heard me yell? I imagined at first that ye didn't hear me."
"I really thought it was a dog howling, Sam'l. It was Flo who said it was a man calling for help. I then knew that it must be you. My, we had a job getting you to the house. We never could have done it if John hadn't been with us."
"It's a wonder he could leave his sweetheart long enough to come with ye, Martha. Did ye find out anything more about her?"
"Nothing. Mrs. Hampton banged on the piano, while John and the girl sang until my head ached. I believe they did it so I wouldn't ask any more questions. I really think there is something mysterious about Miss Bean. What was she doing at the quarry? How did she happen to get hurt? And how did John come to get so well acquainted with her? Mark my word, I shall find out all about her."
Little sleep came to the captain that night, and the hours wore slowly away. He had insisted that his wife and daughter should go to bed. Their presence annoyed him. He wanted to be alone that he might think, for he was more worried about the "Eb and Flo" than he would openly acknowledge. He was getting along in years, and boating was the only thing he could do to make enough to provide for his family. He could not afford to buy or build another craft for the season's work, not even a scow, so if the "Eb and Flo" could not be saved, he did not know what to do. His only hope lay in a heavy rain which would cause the river to rise enough to float the boat. That, however, was not a very bright outlook, for such a boon could hardly be expected during the summer. It was only in the fall when the heavy rains set in, and then it would be too late for much work. And besides, he would lose the carrying of the stones from the quarry. There was not much cordwood to be taken to the city, and most of the lumber from the mills was now being freighted in scows.
And thus he watched and waited, his anxious thoughts, and the pain in his foot driving all sleep from his eyes. Eagerly he listened to the clock as it ticked on the shelf across the room, and struck out the heavy-footed hours. Never did any night seem so long. Often he had sailed on the river from sunset to sunrise, and thought nothing of it. He had something to occupy his attention then. But now he had nothing to do but lie there and wait.
When at last the first faint signs of dawn began to steal into the room, the captain lifted himself to a sitting position and looked out of the window. But nothing could he see, for the river still lay enwrapped in the shadows of the hills beyond. Impatiently he waited, and at length he was enabled to view quite clearly the water as it stretched out before him. Eagerly his eyes searched for the "Eb and Flo," but not a sign of her could he behold. Nothing but the flats on the other side of the river met his view. What did it all mean? he asked himself. Where was the boat? A mingled feeling of curiosity, hope and anxiety possessed him, and only with the greatest difficulty could he restrain his impatience until his wife came downstairs.
"She's gone, Martha!" he shouted, as soon as his wife entered the room. "She's nowhere in sight."
"What! The boat?" Mrs. Tobin replied, as she hurried to the window and peered out. She stood for a few seconds, looking up and down the river. Then she turned to her husband with an anxious expression upon her face.
"Do you suppose she's sunk, Sam'l?"
"Sunk; no. If she'd gone down, Eben would have come ashore in the tender. Mebbe he's managed to git her under way, an' taken her down river. Ye kin never tell what that boy might do. Jist scoot over an' ask John to go to the store an' phone to the city. Tell him to call up Jimmy Gault at Injuntown. He's a good friend of mine, an' he'll know if the 'Eb an' Flo's' down."
"Wait until after breakfast, Sam'l. The store won't be open yet. How's your foot?"
"Pretty bad, Martha. But I guess it'll be all right if the 'Eb an' Flo's' safe. Give me me pipe, will ye? I'd like a smoke to soothe me nerves."
It seemed to the captain that the time would never pass until John returned from the store and reported that Eben had reached the city early that morning, and all was well.
"Thank the Lord!" the captain fervently exclaimed. "I kin rest in peace now. But I wonder how the boy done it. How in time he histed that sail is a mystery to me."
"Perhaps it was never lowered," his wife suggested. "You left it up, didn't you?"
"I know I did, but I saw it go down as sure as I'm alive. Then when I looked agin, it was up, an' the boat was adrift, making fer them mud flats. What d'ye think of that?"
"What do you suppose saved her from going aground, Sam'l?"
"It must have been the Lord, Martha. It was nuthin' more'n a miracle that kept that boat from goin' on hard an' fast. That boy could never have histed that sail alone an' taken the 'Eb an' Flo' down the river in sich a gale."
"Maybe there was an angel with him, Sam'l, such as stood with St. Paul long ago."
"Mebbe so, Martha. I've been thinkin' of that, an' it gives one a kind of comfortin' feelin', doesn't it?"
All day long the captain remained upon the sofa. His foot pained him a great deal, but he never complained. His wife tended him most faithfully, and never scolded him once. She was more gentle than he had ever known her to be, and when the paper arrived from the post office she read to him the news of the day. An article about the unsuccessful search for the body of Miss Randall was of the greatest interest, and Mrs. Tobin read it through very carefully. The captain listened attentively, expecting every minute to hear an expression of doubt as to the girl's death. He lay staring straight before him when his wife had finished. A feeling possessed him that he should tell Martha what he knew. It would relieve his mind, and at the same time explain the presence of the girl across the way. But would she keep the secret? or would she consider it her bounden duty to send word to the girl's parents? He was almost certain that she would take the latter course, and this made him hesitate.
As he was pondering over this, Mrs. Hampton and Jess Randall came to the house to see him. They were anxious to know how he was getting along, and Mrs. Hampton had brought a bottle of her choicest jam for his special benefit.
"It is sartinly good of yez to come," he told them. "Martha was entertainin' me by readin' the paper. It helps pass the time."
"I was just reading about that poor girl who drowned herself," Mrs. Tobin explained. "Have you seen it, Miss?"
The girl's hands trembled slightly as she took the paper, and ran her eyes rapidly over the article. Her face turned somewhat pale as she read, and her heart beat fast. It was not the first time that the seriousness of the situation had come into her mind. But she had always excused herself by the justness of her cause. Any girl with the least spark of spirit would do the same, she reasoned. Her parents had no right to force her to marry a man she hated. But the thought of the men searching for her body was horrible. What would the papers say if the truth became known, as it surely would in time? She was much relieved, however, to learn that no one suspected that she was alive, not even her parents. Anyway, she had taken matters into her own hands, and she did not intend to turn back now. She longed to speak to the captain alone, and this opportunity was soon afforded when Mrs. Tobin took Mrs. Hampton into the garden to show her some special flowers. Thus the captain and Jess were left together for a few minutes.
"Oh, Captain, I want to thank you for your kindness," the girl impetuously began. "I was almost frightened out of my senses when I saw you last night."
"So I looked as bad as all that, did I?" The captain chuckled as he looked at his fair visitor. "No, Miss, I wouldn't give ye away. But I was afraid that Martha might pump the secret out of ye."
"And you will keep the secret, won't you?" the girl pleaded. "You will not tell anyone, not even your wife?"
"I'll try to, Miss," and the captain sighed. "But Eben knows, and I'm expectin' him home shortly. How did ye git that cut on yer head?" he suddenly asked.
"Why, don't you know?" and Jess looked her surprise. "A stone came through the window as John and I were sitting by that injured man at the quarry."
"But who threw the stone?"
"I have not the least idea. John wanted to have a search made at the quarry in order to find the one who did it. But I would not let him. I was afraid it would make too much talk, and it might get into the papers."
"D'ye intend to stay here, Miss?" the captain asked. "Yer dad's sure to know of yer whereabouts, even though ye call yerself Betty Bean. How in time did ye think of sich a name as that?"
Jess laughed, although her eyes expressed anxiety.
"I am afraid I cannot stay here long, Captain. But I wish I could. Mrs. Hampton seems just like my own mother, she is so kind and loving. Perhaps you will take me again on your boat. That is the safest place I can think of now."
"I guess ye wouldn't find it very safe thar, Miss. It served as a refuge fer a time, but please don't try it on agin, unless ye want to git me into trouble."
Jess smiled, more at the peculiar expression on the captain's face than at his words of warning. She understood perfectly well what he meant, for she had met his wife. For a few seconds there was silence. Then the captain looked into the bright face before him, and his eyes twinkled.
"Say, Miss," he began, "I know a fine way out of yer difficulty. It's a great one, an' jist stuck me all of a sudden."
"You do! Oh, I knew you would help me."
"Yes, it's the only way I kin see," the captain continued. "It will keep yer parents from forcin' ye to marry that Lord's son. They can't touch ye if ye jist foller my advice."
"I will, Captain. Just tell me what to do."
"Git married."
"Oh!" The girl gave a great start, while her face crimsoned.
"Didn't expect that, eh?" and the captain chuckled. "Took ye kinder by surprise?"
"Indeed it did. And I'm afraid I can't take your advice. Why, I've run away to escape getting married."
"Ah, that's all right, Miss. Ye ran away to escape one man, but I guess thar's another ye won't run away from. Isn't that true? Thar now, ye needn't blush an' git all confused. I'm old enough to be yer grandfather, so ye needn't git upsot at what I say. I'm only speakin' fer yer good. Marry John Hampton, an' then ye won't have to worry any more about marryin' that Lord Stick-in-the-Mud. John's a real nice feller, an' I guess you like him as well as he likes you."
"But, Captain, I couldn't marry John," Jess protested. "In fact, he hasn't even asked me to marry him."
"He hasn't! John hasn't asked ye to marry him?" The captain's surprise and indignation were so great that he sat bolt upright. Then he sank back with a groan. "Blame that foot!" he growled. "I fergot all about it. An' no wonder. To think that John hasn't asked ye to marry him. What in thunder has he been doin', then?"
Before the girl could reply, the women returned, and in a few minutes she and Mrs. Hampton left the house. Jess was pleased at the interruption, for the conversation was becoming embarrassing. Nevertheless, she thought more of the captain for his friendly words of advice, and cherished them in the depth of her heart. She knew that they were true, and that to marry the man she loved would free her from all annoyance of Donaster.
There was great excitement the next day in the Tobin family when "The Daily Courier" arrived. It had a full account of the thrilling experience of rescuing the "Eb and Flo" at the brink of the falls. Mrs. Tobin read it aloud, while the captain and Flo listened with intense interest. At times the former interrupted with exclamations of surprise. He was more excited than his wife had ever seen him, and he could hardly restrain himself from leaping from the sofa and prancing around the room.
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" he thundered, when his wife had finished, and laid aside the paper. "Why in time didn't Eben tie up at some wharf instead of goin' through the Narrows when the tide was runnin' down? That boy hasn't enough brains to last him over night."
"Don't talk that way, Sam'l," his wife chided. "No doubt the poor boy was doing the best he could. He must have used his brains when he saved the boat from going on the mud flats."
"Sure, sure, Martha. Yer quite right. But, say, what a narrow squeeze that was! In another minute Eben an' the boat would have been into the falls, an', then, Good Lord!"
"Doesn't the paper say there were two men with him?" Flo asked. "Who were they, do you suppose?" The girl's face was pale, and she was greatly agitated.
"Yes, yes, it does say thar were two men, who left in a motor-boat," the captain replied. "Now, who were they? D'ye s'pose they were on the boat when the storm struck, an' helped Eben hist the sail? They must have been thar, fer that boy could never have histed that sail alone. Read it all over agin, Martha."
The Tobin family had now a great subject for conversation, which kept them talking and speculating for the rest of the day. Mrs. Tobin carried the paper to her neighbours across the way, and discussed it with them. Jess said very little, although she was doing some serious thinking. Two men were with Eben, and they had evidently been with him during the storm. Fearful as she was of being followed, she naturally concluded that they were in search of her. Perhaps there was a suspicion abroad that she had taken refuge on the "Eb and Flo," and had not drowned herself. She said nothing, however, about her fears, but listened to Mrs. Tobin as she enlarged upon the danger through which her son had passed.
All through the afternoon the captain kept a close watch upon the river. He felt sure that Eben would bring the boat back that day. His foot was not giving him so much trouble, and he longed to be up and doing. But his wife and daughter would not allow him to leave the sofa, notwithstanding his vigorous protests.
"I must git around, Martha," he said after a special rebuke by his wife for his lack of patience. "Me foot needs to be moved, or it'll be stiff to the end of me days."
"Don't you worry about that, Sam'l. A sprain needs rest, and you're going to stay right where you are."
The captain sighed as he tried to possess his soul in patience. But the time dragged heavily, and the "Eb and Flo" was nowhere in sight.
Supper was almost ready when Flo, happening to glance out of the window, gave a cry of joy.
"The boat's coming now, daddy!" she announced. "I'm sure it's the 'Eb and Flo.'"
"Is thar a big patch in the sail?" her father asked.
"Yes, I can see it quite plainly."
"Then it's her, Flo. Thank the Lord Eben's come at last. He's a great boy, that. Guess he'll amount to something after all. Ye'd better cut an extry slice of that ham, fer Eben'll have an appetite like a bear when he gits home."