Whether Captain Shivernock was sane or insane, Donald Ramsay was in possession of the Juno. Of course he did not consider himself the proprietor of the craft, if he did of the sixty dollars he had in his pocket. She had the wind over her port quarter, and the boat tore through the water as if she intended to show her new skipper what she could do. But Donald paid little attention to the speed of the Juno, for his attention was wholly absorbed by the remarkable events of the morning. Captain Shivernock had given him sixty dollars in payment nominally for the slight service rendered him. But then, the strange man had given a poor laborer a hundred dollars for stopping his horse, when the animal leisurely walked towards home from the store where the owner had left him. Again, he had given a[100] negro sailor a fifty-dollar bill for sculling him across the river. He had rewarded a small boy with a ten-dollar bill for bringing him a despatch from the telegraph office. When the woman who went to his house to do the washing was taken sick, and was not able to work for three months, he regularly called at her rooms every Monday morning and gave her ten dollars, which was three times as much as she ever earned in the same time.

Remembering these instances of the captain's bounty, Donald had no doubt about the ownership of the sixty dollars in his pocket. The money was his own; but how had he earned it? Was he paid to keep his tongue still, or simply for the service performed? If for his silence, what had the captain done which made him desire to conceal the fact that he had been to the island? The strange man had explicitly denied having killed, robbed, or stolen from anybody. All the skipper could make of it was, that his desire for silence was only a whim of the captain, and he was entirely willing to accommodate him. If there had been any mischief done on the island, he should hear of it; and in that[101] event he would take counsel of some one older and wiser than himself. Then he tried to satisfy himself as to why the captain had walked at least three miles to Turtle Head, instead of waiting till the tide floated the Juno. This appeared to be also a whim of the strange man. People in the city used to say it was no use to ask the reason for anything that Captain Shivernock did. His motive in giving Donald sixty dollars and his boat, which would sell readily for three hundred dollars, and had cost over five hundred, was utterly unaccountable.

Donald was determined not to do anything wrong, and if the captain had committed any evil deed, he fully intended to expose him; but he meant to keep still until he learned that the evil deed had been done. The money in his pocket, and that for which the Juno could be sold, would be capital enough to enable him to carry on the business of boat-building. But he was determined to see Captain Shivernock that very day in regard to the boat. Perhaps the strange man would give him a job to build a centre-board yacht, for he wanted one.

"Hallo! Juno, ahoy!" shouted Laud Cavendish.[102]

Donald threw the boat up into the wind, under the stern of Laud's craft.

"I thought you were going down to Camden," said he. "You won't get there to-day at this rate."

"I forgot some things I wanted, and ran up to Searsport after them. But what are you doing in the Juno, Don John?"

"She's going to be sold, Laud," replied Donald, dodging the direct question. "Didn't you say you wanted to buy a boat?"

"I said so; and I want to buy one badly. I'm going to spend my summer on the water. What does the captain ask for her?"

"I don't know what the price is, but I'll let you know on Monday," added Donald, as he filled away again, for the yacht fleet was now in sight.

"Hold on a minute, Don John; I want to talk with you about her."

"I can't stop now. I have to go up to the Head and measure the yachts."

"Don't say a word to anybody about my buying her," added Laud.

He was soon out of hearing of Laud's voice. He wondered if the swell really wished to buy[103] such a boat as the Juno, and could pay three hundred dollars for her. His father was not a rich man, and he was out of business himself. And he wanted Donald to keep still too. What motive had he for wishing his proposition to be kept in the dark? His object was not apparent, and Donald was obliged to give up the conundrum, though he had some painful doubts on the subject. As he thought of the matter, he turned to observe the position of the two boats to the southward of him. Directly ahead of Laud's craft was an island which he could not weather, and he was obliged to tack. He could not lay his course, and he had to take a short and then a long stretch, and he was now standing across the bay on the short leg. Captain Shivernock had run over towards the Northport shore, and Donald thought they could not well avoid coming within hailing distance of each other. But the Juno passed beyond the north-west point of the island, and he could no longer see them. He concluded, however, that the captain would not let Laud, or any one else, see him afloat that day. He was a very strange man.

Donald ran the Juno around the point, and[104] anchored her under the lee of Turtle Head. The fleet was still a couple of miles distant, and after he had lowered and secured the mainsail, he had nothing to do but examine the fine craft which had so strangely come into his possession. He went into the cuddy forward, and overhauled everything there, till he was fully qualified to set forth the merits of her accommodations to a purchaser. The survey was calculated to kindle his own enthusiasm, for Donald was as fond of boating as any young man in the club. The idea of keeping the Juno for his own use occurred to him, but he resisted the temptation, and determined not even to think of such an extravagant plan.

The yacht fleet was now approaching, the Skylark gallantly leading the way, and the Christabel, with a reef in her mainsail, bringing up the rear. The Sea Foam did not seem to hold her own with the Skylark, as she had done before, but she was the second to drop her anchor under the lee of Turtle Head.

"I cam glad to see you, Don John," said Commodore Montague, as he discovered Donald in the Juno. "I was afraid you were not com[105]ing, and I went up to the shop to look for you. But how came you in that boat?"

"She is for sale," replied Donald, as the tender of the Skylark came alongside the Juno, and he stepped into it. "Do you know of anybody that wants to buy her?"

"I know three or four who want boats, but I am not sure the Juno would suit either of them," replied the commodore.

The boat pulled to the shore, and no one asked any more questions about the Juno, or her late owner. The members of the club on board of the several yachts landed, and Donald was soon in earnest conversation with Samuel Rodman.

"What does your father say?" he asked.

"He wants to see you," replied Samuel.

"Does he think I can't do the job?"

"He did not think so at first, but when I told him you would employ one or two regular ship carpenters, he was satisfied, and I think he will give you the job."

"I hope he will, and I am sure I can give him as good work as he can get anywhere."

"I haven't any doubt of it, Don John. But the Sea Foam isn't doing so well as she did the[106] first day you had her out. The Skylark beats her every time they sail."

"Ned Patterdale hasn't got the hang of her yet."

"Perhaps not."

"I should like to have Bob Montague sail her, and Ned the Skylark; I think it would make a difference," added Donald. "Ned does very well, but a skipper must get used to his boat; and he hasn't had much experience in yachts as large as the Sea Foam. I spoke to you of a change in the model for the Maud; and if I'm not greatly mistaken, she will beat both the Sea Foam and the Skylark."

"I would give all my spending-money for a year, over and above the cost, if she would do that," replied Rodman, with a snap of the eye.

"Of course I can't promise that she will do it, but I expect she will," said Donald.

The club assembled under the trees, and the members were called to order by the commodore. The first business was to hear the report of the Regatta Committee, which proved to be a very interesting document to the yachtmen. The race was to take place the next Saturday, and[107] was open to all yachts exceeding twenty feet in length, duly entered before the time. All were to sail in the same class; the first prize was a silver vase, and the second a marine glass. The course was to be from the judge's boat, in Belfast harbor, by Turtle Head, around the buoy on Stubb's Point Ledge, leaving it on the port hand, and back to the starting-point. The sailing regulations already adopted by the club were to be in full force. The report was accepted, and the members looked forward with eager anticipation to what they regarded as the greatest event of the season. Other business was transacted, and Donald, who had brought with him a measuring tape and plummet, measured all the yachts of the club. Dinner was served on board of each craft, and the commodore extended the hospitalities of the Skylark to Donald.

In the afternoon, the fleet made an excursion around Long Island, returning to Belfast about six o'clock, Donald sailing the Juno, and catching a mess of fish off Haddock Ledge. He moored her off the shop, and was rather surprised to find that his own boat had not yet been returned. After supper he hastened to the house[108] of Mr. Rodman, with whom he had a long talk in regard to the building of the Maud. The gentleman had some doubts about the ability of the young boat-builder to do so large a job, though he desired to encourage him.

"I am willing to give you the work, and to pay you the same price your father had for the Sea Foam; but I don't like to pay out money till I know that you are to succeed," said he.

"I don't ask you to do so, sir," replied Donald, warmly. "You need not pay me a cent till you are perfectly satisfied."

"But I supposed you would want money to buy stock and pay your men, even before you had set up your frame."

"No, sir; we have capital enough to make a beginning."

"I am satisfied then, and you shall have the job," added Mr. Rodman.

"Thank you, sir," replied Donald, delighted at his success.

"You may go to work as soon as you please; and the sooner the better, for Samuel is in a great hurry for his yacht."

"I will go to work on Monday morning. The[109] model, moulds, and drawings are all ready, and there will be no delay, sir," answered the young boat-builder, as he took his leave of his considerate patron.

Perhaps Mr. Rodman was not satisfied that the young man would succeed in the undertaking, but he had not the heart to discourage one who was so earnest. He determined to watch the progress of the work very closely, and if he discovered that the enterprise was not likely to be successful, he intended to stop it before much time or money had been wasted. Donald had fully detailed the means at his command for doing the job in a workman-like manner, and he was well known as an ingenious and skilful mechanic. Mr. Rodman had strong hopes that the young man would succeed in his undertaking.

Donald walked toward the house of Captain Shivernock, congratulating himself on the happy issue of his interview with Mr. Rodman. As he passed the book and periodical store, he saw Lawrence Kennedy, a ship carpenter, who had formerly worked with Mr. Ramsay, standing at the door, reading the weekly paper just from the press. This man was out of work, and was talk[110]ing of going to Bath to find employment. Donald had already thought of him as one of his hands, for Kennedy was a capital mechanic.

"What's the news?" asked Donald, rather to open the way to what he had to say, than because he was interested in the latest intelligence.

"How are you, Donald?" replied the ship carpenter. "There's a bit of news from Lincolnville, but I suppose you heard it; for all the town is talking about it."

"I haven't heard it."

"A man in Lincolnville was taken from his bed in the dead hour of the night, and beaten to a jelly."

"Who was the man?"

"His name was Hasbrook."

"Hasbrook!" exclaimed Donald.

"Do you know him, lad?"

"I know of him; and he has the reputation of being anything but an honest man."

"Then it's not much matter," laughed the ship carpenter.

"But who beat him?" asked Donald.

"No one knows who it was. Hasbrook couldn't make him out; but likely it's some one the rogue has cheated."[111]

"Hasbrook must have seen him," suggested Donald.

"The ruffian was disguised with his head in a bit of a bag, or something of that sort, and he never spoke a word from first to last," added Kennedy, looking over the article in the paper.

Donald wondered if Captain Shivernock had any dealings with Hasbrook. He was just the man to take the law into his own hands, and assault one who had done him a real or a fancied injury. Donald began to think he understood why the captain did not wish it to be known that he was on Long Island the night before. But the outrage had been committed in Lincolnville, which bordered the western arm of Penobscot Bay. It was three miles from the main land to the island. If the captain was in Lincolnville in "the dead of night," on a criminal errand, what was he doing near Seal Harbor, where the Juno was aground, at four o'clock in the morning? If he was the guilty party, he would naturally desire to get home before daylight. The wind was fair for him to do so, and there was enough of it to enable the Juno to make the run in less than two hours. It did not seem probable,[112] therefore, that the captain had gone over to the other side of the bay, three miles off his course. Besides, he was not disguised, but wore his usual gray suit; and Hasbrook ought to have been able to recognize him by his form and his dress even in the darkest night.

Donald was perplexed and disturbed. If there was any probability that Captain Shivernock had committed the crime, our hero was not to be bribed by sixty or six thousand dollars to keep the secret. If guilty, he would have been more likely to go below and turn in than to walk three miles on the island for assistance, and he would not have gone three miles off his course. But Donald determined to inquire into the matter, and do his whole duty, even if the strange man killed him for it. Kennedy was reading his paper while the young man was thinking over the case; but, having decided what to do, he interrupted the ship carpenter again.

"Are you still out of work, Mr. Kennedy?" he asked.

"I am; and I think I shall go to Bath next week," replied Kennedy.

"I know of a job for you."
The News from Lincolnville. Page 110. The News from Lincolnville. Page 110 .

[113]

"Do you, lad? I don't want to move away from Belfast, and I should be glad to get work here. What's the job?"

"We are going to build a yacht of the size of the Sea Foam."

"Who?" inquired the workman.

"My mother and I intend to carry on my father's business."

"And you wish me to manage it for you?"

"No; I intend to manage it myself," added Donald, confidently.

"Well, lad, you are clever enough to do it; and if you are like your father, I shall be glad to work for you."

The wages were agreed upon, and Kennedy promised to be at the shop on Monday morning, to assist the young boat-builder in selecting the stock for the Maud. Donald walked to the house of Captain Shivernock. In the yard he found Sykes, the man who did all sorts of work for his employer, from taking care of the horses up to negotiating mortgages. Donald had occasionally been to the house, and he knew Sykes well enough to pass the time of day with him when they met in the street.[114]

"Is Captain Shivernock at home?" asked the young man, trying to appear indifferent, for he wanted to get as much information in regard to the strange man's movements during the last twenty-four hours as possible.

"No, he is not," replied Sykes, who to some extent aped the manners of his eccentric employer.

"Not at home!" exclaimed Donald, who had not expected this answer, though he had not found his own boat at her moorings on his return from the excursion with the fleet.

"Are you deaf, young man?"

"No, sir; not at all."

"Then you heard me say he was not at home," growled Sykes.

"I want to see him very much. Will he be long away?" asked Donald.

"I can't tell you. He won't come back till he gets ready, if it isn't for a month."

"Of course not; but I should like to know when I can probably see him."

"You can probably see him when he comes home. He started in his boat for Vinal Haven early this morning."[115]

"This morning?" repeated Donald, who wished to be sure on this point.

"Didn't I say so? This morning. He comes back when he pleases."

"When do you expect him?"

"I don't expect him. I never expect him. He may be home in five minutes, in five days, or five weeks."

"At what time this morning did he go?"

"He left the house at five minutes after four this morning, the last that ever was. I looked at my watch when he went out at the gate; for I was thinking whether or no his boat wasn't aground. Do you want to know what he had for breakfast? If you do, you must ask my wife, for I don't know," growled Sykes.

"I am very anxious to see him," continued Donald, without heeding the sulky tones and manner of the man. "Perhaps he told Mrs. Sykes when he should return."

"Perhaps he did, and perhaps he told her how much money he had in his pocket. He was as likely to tell her one as the other. You can ask her," sneered Sykes.

As the housekeeper sat on the piazza enjoying the cool evening breeze, Donald decided to avail[116] himself of this permission, for he desired to know how well the two stories would agree. He saluted the lady, who gave him a pleasanter reception than her bearish husband had accorded to him.

"Mr. Sykes told me that Captain Shivernock was away from home," said Donald. "Can you tell me when he is likely to return?"

"He intended to come back to-night if the wind favored him. He went to Vinal Haven early this morning, and as you are a sailor, you can tell better than I whether he is likely to return to-night," replied Mrs. Sykes.

"The wind is fair, and there is plenty of it," added Donald. "What time did he leave?"

"About four o'clock. I gave him his coffee at half past three, and it must have been about four when he went away."

If the outrage at Lincolnville had been committed in "the dead of the night," it was perfectly evident to Donald that Captain Shivernock had had nothing whatever to do with it. This conclusion was a great relief to the mind of the young man; but he had hardly reached it before the captain himself passed through the gate, and fixed a searching gaze upon him, as though he regarded him as an interloper.