CHAPTER XVIII.
MORE MISCHIEF.
ALL the way back to the island, Charley pondered over the mystifyingoccurrence.
"I don't understand it, I don't understand it at all," he said toCaptain Westfield whom he found sitting beside Walter who was stillsleeping soundly. "There is some mystery about this island that puzzlesme. If this sort of thing goes on I'll be converted to Chris' belief inspirits. One unexplainable thing after another happening so frequentlyis enough to make one lose his wits."
"I wouldn't worry my head about it," said the old sailor, placidly."The mysterious happenings have all been for our own good. Take thislast one. Walter would surely have died but for that liquor and thedoctor. I don't fear the kind of people or spirits that do that kind ofthing. It's the mean, sly tricks of those fishermen that's botheringme. I cannot help but worry as to what they will do next. Just how dowe stand now, do you calculate, lad?"
Charley figured rapidly. "Our two nights' fishing makes one hundred andeighty dollars coming to us. I guess our grocery bills amount to aboutthirty dollars, it will cost forty-five dollars to replace the skiff,that ruined net means fifty dollars more, and repainting the launchwill cost twenty dollars more. Our other three nets are as good as new.That brings our total expenses up to one hundred and forty dollars,leaving a balance of forty dollars to our credit."
"I wish it were a little more," said the captain, wistfully. "If itwas twenty dollars apiece, I would vote right now for giving up thisfishing business. I've got a feeling that those fishermen are goingto do us bad yet. They have pretty near succeeded a couple of timesalready. Next time we may not be lucky enough to escape. Bill Roberts'scheme might work all right, but it will take time and there's notelling what they may do to us while we are waiting."
"I hate to give up," Charley replied, "but I guess it is the wisestthing to do; so far, they have only injured our property, but there isno telling how soon they will do some one of us bodily injury, they aregetting desperate. This accident to Walt has made me see things in adifferent light. I would never forgive myself if one of you should bebadly injured by those scoundrels as a result of my being stubborn andrefusing to quit. If it were only myself it would be different, but,I do not want to drag the rest of you into the trouble. Walt's closeshave has taken all the fighting spirit out of me. I agree with youthat we had better quit. But we cannot strike out again with only fortydollars between us. It will be several days anyway before Walt is ableto travel and we might as well put in as much of the time as we canfishing. We can notify those fishermen that we are going to leave soonand perhaps they will let up on their persecutions."
"Where had we better go from here?" speculated the old sailor.
"Back to the East Coast, I guess," answered Charley, wearily. "It'spineapple season and we will be able to get work in the plantations,I guess. They only pay a dollar and a half per day and the work isvery hard. But this is the dull season in Florida now and we can't dobetter. I don't know as it much matters what we do," he concluded,bitterly. "We seem doomed to fail in all our undertakings."
"Get that idea out of your head, lad," said the old sailor, gently. "Ifone lacks confidence, he will never succeed. You are tired out and yournerves are all unstrung from worry and loss of sleep. Go take a walkon the beach and a dip in the surf then come back and catch a nap andthings will look brighter."
His eyes followed Charley's departing form with pitying fondness.
"Poor lad," he sighed, "he hates to give up, and he is thoroughlydiscouraged. It isn't often he gets that way though the good Lordknows he has but little to keep him bright and cheerful. No father, nomother, and his whole young life a constant battle against hardshipsand disappointments."
When Charley returned his gloominess had vanquished. "Nothing like goodsalt air and a long swim to get the best of the blues, Captain," heannounced, cheerfully. "I feel fit to do battle with the world againnow. How's the boy coming on?"
"Fine," the captain declared. "I'm expecting him to wake up hungry."
"I'll be fixed for him, sho'," declared Chris, eagerly. "Dis has beende longest day for dis nigger, he jus' seemed to be in the way an' obno account, so he's jus' been fixing up to feed you-all, dat does allde work, jus' de best he kin. Golly I got a supper dat will satisfyMassa Walt all right. I got fresh fish fried nice and brown, big fatoysters from off de rocks roasted in dere own juice, scallops choppedup fine and made inter meat balls, nice fresh corn bread an' plenty ofcoffee."
"It would kill Walt to eat all that," laughed Charley. "Make up alittle oyster soup and we will give him that when he wakes up. Yourfeast will not be wasted," he said hastily, as he saw the littlenegro's look of disappointment. "You want to remember that the captainand I haven't eaten since yesterday."
"Dat's so," agreed Chris, brightening. "Hit's all ready when you is."
He had little cause for complaint for when the two had finished therewas little but crumbs left of the delicious meal.
"Now I am ready to sleep," Charley announced, with a sigh of content.
Walt was resting so easily that both Charley and the captain stretchedout on their couches leaving Chris to watch and to call one of them totake his place when he became sleepy.
The captain relaxed his tired muscles with a sigh of relief.
"There's one thing that's been puzzling me a little, Charley," heobserved, as he settled into a comfortable position. "How did it happenthat Walt caught all those critters while you and I got nothing butholes."
"I hadn't thought of that," admitted Charley, thoughtfully. "It is kindof queer; something jumped up, fish all bore down on one net, but,while that would account for Walt getting them all in his net, it doesnot explain all the holes in ours."
It was a trifling circumstance but he puzzled over it a long time afterhis companion had fallen asleep.
The sun was shining brightly when the two awoke for Chris, withunselfish kindness, had watched the night through rather than disturbthem.
They found Walter awake and greatly improved, the swelling in his armand hand was subsiding rapidly. He was very weak and was shaky from theeffects of the drugs and liquor but that would soon wear off.
They were hardly dressed when the Roberts arrived in their launch.They had heard of Walter's accident in Clearwater and had come over toinquire after him and offer any assistance they could give.
"Too bad," said Bill, regretfully, when the captain told him of theirnewly-formed resolve to leave the Island. "We Roberts are sorry to loseyou folks. I wish you could stick it out, but, of course, you know yourown business best. We will not only miss you but we hate to see thatHunter gang win another underhand victory. With you gone they will takeup their old trade of smuggling in booze and making beasts of theirfellow fishermen."
"It is too bad," the old sailor agreed, "but it is best for us to gobefore they do us any more harm. We have more coming to us than we owenow, but if they got to us with many more of their tricks, we would bebehind with the fish house and then of course we could not go."
"Well," Bill Roberts offered, as they were leaving, "if you are goingout fishing to-night I'll come over and stay with the boy."
Our friends accepted his offer gratefully, for they had been loath tothink of leaving their chum alone with Chris, only. It was true he wasdoing finely but there might come a change for the worse and the littlenegro would be helpless to get word to them.
True to his promise, Bill appeared before sundown and they were freefor another hunt for the finny prizes.
They were not long in coming upon a promising-looking school of fishwhich Charley decided to run.
Walter's absence made a slight difference in the mode of making thecircle, but they got around most of the bunch in good shape.
"I believe we are going to make a good haul," Charley declared, withsatisfaction, as they rested after drumming up. "There's a lot of fishin the circle and they seem to be hitting the net good."
But his hopes gave way to dismay as he pulled in
yard after yard ofhis net without getting a fish. Instead the net seemed riddled with amultitude of holes.
"Get anything, Captain," he paused to shout.
"Nothing but holes," said the old sailor, disgustedly. "Got a hundredof them."
"Queer," Charley muttered. He gathered up some of the loose webbingin either hand and pulled gently. The tested part broke as easily asa spider's web. Every few yards for the entire length of the net herepeated the operation. The result was always the same. He finishedpicking up and, sitting down, waited dejectedly for the old sailor.
"We might as well go home," he said wearily, as the captain pulledalongside. "My net is rotten from end to end. It would not hold aminnow."
"Mine is in the same fix," his companion agreed, sadly. "Now, we arein a bad fix. One hundred dollars' worth more nets to be charged upagainst us, and nothing to fish with."
"We are in a bad fix," Charley agreed. "I don't understand it. Thosewere both new nets, and of the highest grade of twine. They should havelasted for at least three months and here they are gone after only afew nights' fishing. There is something wrong somewhere. Well, come on,let's go home. There is nothing to be gained trying to fish with thesenets, they will not hold anything."
The trip back to camp was made in silence; they were too utterlydiscouraged for speech.
They found Walter sleeping peacefully and Bill Roberts sitting by hiscouch reading by the light of a lantern.
The big fishermen listened in wondering sympathy to the recital oftheir experiences.
"Those nets should have lasted at least three months," he declared,confirming Charley's statement. "They are good nets. Mr. Daniels is asquare fish boss and does not give his fishermen anything but the best.Let's see if we can find out what has happened to them. That will notmake them strong again, but it will be of some little satisfaction."