Read The Launch Boys' Cruise in the Deerfoot Page 7


  CHAPTER VII

  ONE AUGUST DAY

  "Well, here we are!"

  It was Captain Alvin Landon who uttered the exclamation as the threecame to a halt on the shore at the point nearest the moorings of thegasoline launch _Deerfoot_, left there the night before.

  She made a pretty picture, with her graceful lines, shining varnish,polished brass work and cleanliness everywhere. The steersman in thecockpit was guarded by a wind-shield of thick glass. At the sternfloated a flag displaying an anchor surrounded by a circle of stars withthe stripes as shown in our national emblem. At the bow flew a burgee orsmall swallow-tailed flag of blue upon which was the word _Deerfoot_ ingold. The bunting was always taken in when the boat lay up for thenight, but in daytime and in clear weather it was displayed on thelaunch.

  Not only could one sleep with some comfort on such a craft by using theconvertible seats, but food could be prepared on an oil stove. Incruising, however, among the numerous islands and bays, it was so easyto go ashore for an excellent meal that Captain Landon followed therule.

  The water was so deep close to land that the three easily sprang aboard,the Captain being last in order to cast off the line that held the boatin place. It was the first time that Mike Murphy had ever placed foot ona craft of that nature. While Chester hustled about, Alvin quicklyjoining him, he gaped around in silent amazement. He felt that in hisignorance of everything the best course for him was to do nothingwithout the advice of his young friends. He sank down gingerly on one ofthe seats and watched them.

  He saw the Captain thrust the switch plug into place, though with noidea of what he meant by doing so, while Chester took a peep into thegasoline tank in the stern. Then Alvin opened the hinged deck whichcovered the big six cylinder motor, climbed forward to the fly-wheel,and swung it back and forth until it circled over. Instantly therefollowed a smooth whirr, and he closed the forward deck over the motorand took his seat behind the wind-shield where he grasped the wheelwhich, as on an automobile, controlled the steering gear. The controllever, as has been stated, was on his left. Alvin pushed this forwarduntil the clutch took hold, and with a churning of the screw at thestern the boat moved ahead and quickly attained a good degree of speed.The wind was so slight that the surface of the water was scarcelyrippled, and no motion could be felt except the vibration of thepowerful engine.

  The bow and stern lines having been neatly coiled down and everythingbeing adjusted, with Captain Alvin seated and loosely grasping thesteering wheel, the two mates took their places behind him, prepared toenjoy the outing to the full. Youth, high health, with every surroundingcircumstance favorable--what can bring more happiness to a human being?They come to us only once and let us make the most of them.

  "Is it permitted to spake to the man at the wheel?" called Mike to theCaptain, who, looking over his shoulder, nodded his head.

  "So long as you speak good sense."

  "Which the same is what I does always; why couldn't ye take a run overto Ireland this morning, now that ye are headed that way?"

  "It's worth thinking about, but we shall have to wait till another time.Better become acquainted with a part of the Maine coast first."

  The launch was speeding to the northeast in the direction of SquirrelIsland, which has long been one of the most popular of summer resorts.This beautiful spot is not quite a mile long and has a varied scenerythat surprises every one who visits the place. The deep water around thewharf is as clear as crystal, so that at high tide one can look down andsee clearly the rocky bottom twenty feet below. The coast abounds withprodigious rocks tumbled together by some stupendous convulsion ofnature and against which the waves dash with amazing power during astorm, and throw the spray high in air and far inland. There are shadywoods of balsam and fir where one may stroll in the cool twilight overthe velvet carpet, meandering along the bewitching "Lover's Walk," withwhich nearly every section is provided, or threading his way through thedense bushes which brush him lovingly as he follows the faintly markedpaths. Overhead, when the crow sentinels catch sight of him, they cawtheir warnings to their comrades. There are shadowy glens, gapingfissures, whose corresponding faces show that at some remote age theywere split apart by a terrific upheaval, a gray barn with its threshingmachine and air of quiet country life, rows of neat cottages, a littlewhite wooden church, perched like a rooster gathering himself and aboutto crow and flap his wings, the Casino, smooth, grassy slopes, and atthe northern end of the island, the roomy Squirrel Inn, crowded withvisitors attracted by the cool and bracing air, from the opening to theclose of summer.

  Our young friends had no intention of calling there, but, circling tothe westward of the island, headed for Boothbay Harbor nestling threemiles to the northward. A number of girls loitering on the broad porchof the hotel and a group playing tennis waved their handkerchiefs; theyoung Captain answered with a tooting of his whistle, and Mike Murphyrising to his feet swung his cap over his head.

  To the right stretched Linekin Bay, to the head of Linekin Neck, beyondwhich courses the Damariscotta River, bristling with islets, picturesqueand beautiful beyond compare. Captain Landon turned slightly to theleft, still heading with unabated speed for Boothbay Harbor. He sawcoming toward him a little steamer from whose bow the water spread in afoaming wake. It was the craft which makes regular trips betweenBoothbay Harbor and Squirrel Island through the summer season, stoppingat other places when passengers wish it. One of these is Spruce Point,where little parties often go ashore over the rickety dock, and,striking into the shady woods, follow the winding path along the rockycoast known as the "Indian Trail," for more than two miles, when, afterpassing Mount Pisgah and crossing a long bridge, they find themselves inthe town of which I have spoken.

  As the two boats rapidly approached, passing within a short distance ofeach other, the head and shoulders of the captain of the _Nellie G._showed in the pilot-house. He was a tall, handsome man with darkwhiskers, who, when saluted by the _Deerfoot_, reached up and pulled thewhistle cord of his own craft. Every one knows Captain Williams ofBowdoinham and is glad to see him turn an honest penny each summer. Hisboat, one of the prettiest in those waters, had been built wholly byhimself, and the name painted in big letters on the front of thewheelhouse is that of his wife.

  To the left and almost touching Southport is Capitol Island, a littlenearer, Burnt, and then Mouse, all as picturesque as they can be. Thepathway arched with trees completely shades the sloping walk that leadsto the hotel on Mouse Island. A government light on Burnt Island throwsout its warning rays at momentary intervals through the night. When fogsettles down, the light gives place to a tolling bell.

  Entering the broad harbor, our friends saw a score or more of vesselsgrouped around at anchor, or moored at the wharves. There was amagnificent yacht, the property of a multimillionaire of nationalreputation; another luxurious craft, the representative of a Bostonclub, a five-masted schooner, veteran ships, two of which had voyagedfrom the other side of the world, a decayed and rotting hull near thelong bridge, where it tipped a little to one side in the mud, and waswholly under water when the tide was in, as it had been for years. Anexcursion steamer from Bath was just arriving, while others were takingon passengers for some of the towns not far off.

  Alvin, having slowed down by lessening the amount of gas admitted tothe cylinders with the throttle lever on the wheel, rounded to at one ofthe floats, where a man who had noted his approach caught the loop ofrope tossed to him and slipped it over the mooring pile set in place forthat purpose. The steersman pulled the control lever back to thevertical position, releasing the propeller shaft from connection withthe motor. A further pull backward threw in the reverse gear, and thelaunch came to rest beside the float and the lever was returned to thevertical position.

  "I'll look after it while you are gone," he said and Alvin nodded.Captain and crew then attended to stopping the motor by turning theswitch to the "off" position, putting out fenders to avoid scratching,making bow and stern lines fast to deck cleats and
putting everything inshipshape order.

  The three then climbed the steps to the upper level, passed thestorehouses and ascended the moderate hill to the principal street ofthe well-known town of Boothbay Harbor. There was little that wasnoteworthy in the rather long avenue, lined with the usual stores, abank and amusement hall and a number of pretty residences, and I shouldmake no reference to it except for an incident that befell the visitors.

  Having gone to the end of the street, that is, until the easternterminal gave way to the open country, they turned about to retracetheir steps to the boat, for it was much more pleasant to be skimmingover the water. The temperature at Boothbay Harbor is generally five orten degrees higher than at Squirrel Island.

  The three sauntered along, pausing now and then to look into the storewindows, admiring the displays of Indian trinkets offered for sale, andapproached the corner where they were to turn down the hill to thewharf. At that moment they saw a man of dark complexion, with a bigmustache, and accompanied by a large lad, both in yachting costume, comeout of Hodgdon's store, which is devoted to the sale of hats, caps,boots, shoes, clothing and other necessities. The two took the oppositecourse, following the main street in the direction of the ball grounds.

  Neither Alvin nor Chester did more than glance at the couple, for therewas nothing unusual in their appearance, but Mike started.

  "Did ye obsarve thim?" he asked, lowering his voice.

  "Yes; but there are plenty others on the street that are asinteresting."

  "Come wid me," whispered Mike, "say nothing."

  He whisked into the store, his wondering companions at his heels. Theyleft the situation to him.

  "Will ye oblige me by saying whither the two that has just passed outbought anything of ye?" asked Mike of the rotund, smiling clerk, who,hesitating a moment, answered:

  "The younger one bought a yachting cap, or rather traded one for his oldstraw hat, for which I allowed him a nickel, which is all it's worth andmore too, I'm beginning to think."

  He held up the dilapidated headgear which he caught up from under thecounter.

  "Do ye recognize the same?" asked Mike, in a whisper of Alvin.

  "Can it be possible!" exclaimed the young Captain.

  "It's the identycal hat I wore last night whin we had our ilegantshindy!"