CHAPTER IV.
IN THE CABIN OF THE GOLDWING.
"Here is the letter, Dory," said Mr. Hawlinshed when he had sealed anddirected the envelope. "You will have to go about a mile beyond theplace where we met last night. Mr. Pearl Hawlinshed," he added, readingthe address upon the letter.
"Pearl!" repeated Dory, as he took the letter and read the name forhimself.
"That is the name; and the person to whom it is addressed is my son,"replied the writer of the missive.
"Your son!" exclaimed Dory, looking intently into the face of his newfriend.
"Yes: is there any thing very strange about that? He is my only son, myonly child; and his mother has been dead many years."
"Your son!" repeated Dory, as though he was unable to comprehend therelation.
"Pearl Hawlinshed; and he is my son. Is there any thing very strangeabout it?" asked the father, looking anxiously at Dory.
"But he is the man who fired the gun at you, and then pitched into you,"added Dory.
Mr. Hawlinshed manifested a great deal of emotion. He dropped into hischair, from which he had risen when he finished his letter. He appearedto be greatly astonished that his companion had discovered therelationship between himself and the person to whom the letter wasaddressed.
"How do you know all that, Dory?" asked Mr. Hawlinshed, trying to calmhimself.
"I heard you call him 'Pearl' before I took a hand in the affair,"replied Dory candidly. "I don't know that I should ever have thought ofthe name again if you hadn't given me this letter."
"Then it is very unfortunate that I gave you the letter; but I wished tobe sure that it reached him," said Mr. Hawlinshed, very much perplexedat the situation. "You know more than I supposed, and I am very sorryfor it. The terrible truth is no longer a secret between my son andmyself."
"I ought not to have let on that I knew his name," added Dory, who feltthat he had made a mistake.
"Since you knew the fact, I am glad that you spoke. You know that it wasmy son that attacked me, and who attempted to take the money from me,"continued the poor father bitterly.
"But it shall be all the same as though I did not know any thing aboutit," protested Dory. "After one year or ten you will find that I cankeep a secret."
"I am willing to trust you, Dory; and I should be willing, even if Icould help myself, and were not entirely in your power," added theunhappy father. "Now you will want to know something about the reasonwhy he attacked me, and tried to get my money from me."
"No, sir: I will not ask any thing about the difficulty. I suppose youand your son could not agree, and I know another case just like it. Itis your family affair, and it is none of my business."
"It would take me hours to tell the whole story, and it is too painfulto dwell upon. You will keep the secret, Dory?"
"I will never hint that I ever heard your name. I will leave you now, sothat no one shall know that I ever saw you, or at least that I ever hadany thing to do with you."
"But, Dory, when you tell your mother about the money you have, you willhave to explain where you got it. I don't want you to tell any liesabout it."
"I shall not give her all the money, and perhaps not any of it," saidDory.
"Not give it to her? I have taken you for a boy who wanted to help hismother; and this view of your character has led me to trust you morethan I would if you had not told me your story."
"But I shall use the money for her benefit. I am not going to fool itaway. I shall make a business with it which will enable me to help her,"replied Dory with enthusiasm.
"What is the business, Dory?"
Dory hesitated. There was a contingency about it, and he was afraid thatMr. Hawlinshed would not approve his plan. He was not altogether clearin regard to it himself, and he did not care to commit himself.
"I should like to keep that as my secret. I am going to help my mother;but I am not sure that I can make the plan work, and I don't want to sayany thing about it yet."
"But you will have to explain where you got your money," suggested Mr.Hawlinshed.
"I will promise never to say one word about what happened in the woods.I will give this letter to your son to-morrow morning, and then I willbury the whole thing forever. No one shall ever know where the moneycame from."
Mr. Hawlinshed had a great many doubts, as well he might have had. Buthe was in a very trying situation himself. His relations with his sonwere unpleasant. He had no malice or ill feeling towards Pearl, and allhe wanted was to conceal the sad act of the young man.
Dory was very tired; and he could not help gaping, he was so sleepy. Heshook hands with his new friend, who said they might never meet again.If he returned to the vicinity of Burlington, he should certainly lookhim up; and he hoped he should find him an honest, industrious, andprosperous young man. Dory left the room.
He kept one hand in his pocket on the wallet which contained thetreasure that was to open up the brilliant scheme by which he hoped tosupport his mother and sister. He went out of the hotel without anydefinite idea of where he intended to go. It was ten o'clock by thistime. He was not penniless now, as he had been before. He was richenough to spend the night, or even a week or a month, at the WitherillHouse; but the idea of going there, or to any other public house, didnot occur to him.
Though he had five dollars for "expenses," he could not think of payingout a dollar, or even half a dollar, for a night's lodging. That woulddo very well for Mr. Vanderbilt, but not for him. It would be throwingmoney away. He walked down to the lake. He was not so sleepy as he hadbeen. Stirring himself had waked him up. As he came to the wharf, hisbrilliant scheme leaped into his head again.
During his stop at Plattsburgh the day before, he had seen a sailboat,which was to be sold at auction with other effects of its deceasedowner. He had looked the craft over, and asked a great many questionsabout her. Though she was twenty-five feet long, and was handsomelyfitted up, the knowing ones said she would not bring a hundred dollarsat auction.
She could not have cost less than five or six hundred, but she had a badname. Her late owner had been drowned in consequence of her upsetting.People said it was the fault of the boat. She carried a lee helm, andupset when there was no excuse for her doing so. She had been known totip over three times, and she was sure to drown whoever bought her.
Dory looked her over very carefully. He had been about all sorts ofboats ever since he was a small boy. In fact, he was a naturalwater-bird, almost as much so as a duck. He was a born mechanic, and histaste not less than his associations had led him to apply his mechanicalgenius to boats and boating.
The name of the boat was the Goldwing. Dory had examined her the daybefore, and he "took no stock" in her bad name. He was very sure thatany boat would behave badly if rigged and ballasted as the Goldwing was.He wished he owned her, or that he could obtain the use of her for theseason. He was confident that he could redeem her reputation.
In connection with this boat had bubbled up his brilliant scheme. If hehad her at Burlington, or at several other points on the lake, he couldmake five dollars a day, if not six or eight, by taking out parties.Such a business was more to his taste, and afforded a better field forhis talents, than tending table in the cabin of a steamer.
But it was no use to think of the Goldwing. If five dollars would havebought her, he had not the money to invest in the enterprise. He had nofriend upon whom he could call for aid in such a speculation. He mightas well think of buying and running one of the large steamers on thelake.
But since dark that evening the whole aspect of his fortunes hadchanged. He had over a hundred dollars in his pocket, and the Goldwingwas to be sold the next day. He did not wish to put all his littlefortune into a boat; but he was determined to have the boat, if she wasknocked down for a sum within his means.
The Goldwing lay at the wharf. Dory surveyed her as well as he could inthe darkness, and then he stepped on board of her. She had been builton purpose for her late owner, on a model somewhat different f
rom herclass of boats on the lake; and this created a prejudice against her inthe boating fraternity. Dory had seen her frequently under sail, and hewas delighted with her.
She was decked over forward, and had a little cabin in this part of thecraft. The doors which opened into this apartment were not locked, andDory went into it. He lighted a match, and discovered a lantern hangingfrom a deck-beam. He lighted it, and found that the cabin was furnishedwith two berths, in each of which was a berth-sack. As he looked overthis part of the fitting-up of the boat, he gaped again.
He might as well sleep there as in any other place. He had no fear thatthe ghost of the late owner would disturb him. He arranged the doors sothat they could not be opened without waking him, and then lay down inone of the berths. He was going to think over his brilliant scheme; but,before he had done much thinking, he fell asleep.
He did not wake till the swash of the night boat from the south causedthe Goldwing to bump against the wharf. It was five o'clock in themorning. He felt in his pocket, and found that his money was safe. Heslept another hour after this, and then went on shore. He got hisbreakfast at a restaurant, and then started to deliver the letter.
He reached his destination in about an hour. He inquired for PearlHawlinshed, and found him without any difficulty. He was abouttwenty-two years old. He did not look like the ferocious being heexpected to find in a man who was wicked enough to fire a gun at hisfather. He was pale, thoughtful in his look, and was rather inclined tomelancholy. Dory thought he had enough to think about, and that it washis duty to be melancholy.
Pearl asked him where he got the letter, and Dory said it had been givenhim by a man in Plattsburgh to bring out to him. He did not wait toanswer any questions; and he felt in honor bound not to inquire into anything relating to Mr. Hawlinshed, father or son.
He returned in season to attend the auction. It was like a funeralparty. Dory made the second bid for the boat.